“In front of Lubitsch every conscientious musician breaks out in a cold sweat and runs his fingers through his hair, if he has any, because a Lubitsch film is always endowed with a rhythm so brilliant and so precise that the absence or excess of just one note inexorably risks to shatter its sophisticated equilibrium. At the screening of Romeo und Julia im Schnee I immediately felt useless, in fact for ten long days my head was totally empty, leaving me unable to withdraw the notes that I sought. Until one morning, from one second to the next, the score came down like a single ray of golden sunlight, as though it had been composed in my head during the disheartening vigils spent in front of the film. It was as if Lubitsch’s soul had seized my unconscious and had composed it in my place, so if the piece should not be pleasing to you, don’t take it up with me, I only copied it!”. (Antonio Coppola)

“In the snow of the winter 1919-1920, Lubitsch directed two films adapted from Shakespeare, Kohlhiesels Töchter (Lubitsch: ‘The Taming of the Shrew moved to the Bavarian mountains’) and Romeo und Julia im Schnee (the tragedy transformed into comedy in the Black Forest); it seems that Lubitsch wanted to combine winter sport and work. In any case the season plays an important role for the climate of both films. The action and the humor are determined by temperatures below zero and culminate in a general slipping and sliding forcing the bodies into pleasurable awkwardness. One year later, in Bergkatze, the same effect was repeated. Romeo und Julia im Schnee is the smaller and perhaps also the more beautiful winter film made during this short time. […] Lubitsch enjoyed giving the theatrical elements of the text a burlesque twist, using carnavalesque travesties and exagerated body gestures. He avoids simple derision of the country bumkin, and through sophisticated editing achieves an ironic analysis of intentions instead of a banal clash of characters. His direction of the actors results in body language which functions as the essential means of expression, simultaneously exposing the decay of the competence of language. […] In the prologue, executed in the style of Kammerspiel, another type of talent is displayed: the subtle mimic nuances of the face of the judge and of clerk sketch a satiric portrayal of a society whose practice of law has absolutely nothing to do with the idea of justice. If this story would have developed further a very different film would have resulted”. (H.H. Prinzler- W. Sudendort, in H.H. Prinzler- E. Patalas, Lubitsch, 1984)