UNDER THE YUM YUM TREE was one of three films in the middle 1960s that Jack Lemmon starred in that he despised. He had shown in THE APARTMENT and THE DAYS OF WINE AND ROSES that he was a gifted dramatic actor - an everyman fighting the pressures of modern society, be they big business bosses or alcoholism. Then he did GOOD NEIGHBOR SAM, HOW TO MURDER YOUR WIFE, and UNDER THE YUM YUM TREE. The first two films had good scripts and good productions. He was wrong about them, failing to see they were excellent entertaining (but minor) films. But his contempt for YUM YUM TREE is correct.
Based on a moderately successful play, it was a sex farce. Set in a California motel, Lemmon's character (Hogan) is a letch. All he does is think of going to bed with the young ladies who make the mistake of checking into his motel. If they have boy friends or husbands, he sidetracks the males as quickly as possible. He has a machine that makes copies of every key to every suite in the motel, and in one scene (which I always found very detestable) we see him humming happily to himself as he manufactures a new set of keys. When questioned about his still having a key after apparently giving it up to Dean Jones, he tells Jones glibly (and quickly - his delivery is quite fast and annoying in this movie) that he has an unlimited supply of keys.
In a sense, the eavesdropping Lemmon, so casually violating the privacy of his customers, is an attempt at a comic Norman Bates. Here, supposedly, the situation is all in good sexy fun. But one can make a case that Norman's attacks on young women in bathtubs were also done out of a sense of sexual fun - only a sadistic one. That Lemmon's character gets a good comeuppance at the end does not help this film at all. It still quite lousy. I don't think Lemmon ever played a less likable character or appeared in a worse movie part.
Based on a moderately successful play, it was a sex farce. Set in a California motel, Lemmon's character (Hogan) is a letch. All he does is think of going to bed with the young ladies who make the mistake of checking into his motel. If they have boy friends or husbands, he sidetracks the males as quickly as possible. He has a machine that makes copies of every key to every suite in the motel, and in one scene (which I always found very detestable) we see him humming happily to himself as he manufactures a new set of keys. When questioned about his still having a key after apparently giving it up to Dean Jones, he tells Jones glibly (and quickly - his delivery is quite fast and annoying in this movie) that he has an unlimited supply of keys.
In a sense, the eavesdropping Lemmon, so casually violating the privacy of his customers, is an attempt at a comic Norman Bates. Here, supposedly, the situation is all in good sexy fun. But one can make a case that Norman's attacks on young women in bathtubs were also done out of a sense of sexual fun - only a sadistic one. That Lemmon's character gets a good comeuppance at the end does not help this film at all. It still quite lousy. I don't think Lemmon ever played a less likable character or appeared in a worse movie part.