This is a depressing exercise of that mid-sixties genre in which the Greatest Generation skewers the Swinging Sixties and its own middle age at the same time. You've seen it plenty: Mom or Pop makes the scene, does the Frug, and flirts with infidelity, embarrassing the teenage daughter, while humoring her pretentious boyfriend as he spews pseudo-modern, pseudo-intellectual psychobabble. The marriage is in some kind of mid-life jeopardy and we get lots of racy dallying with modern morality before- (surely this is not a genre-wide spoiler!)- reaffirming traditional values in a final clinch. Actually, some of these are kind of fun, and they're nearly always fun to look at and listen to.
Not this one.
The comic situation here takes way too long to develop, spends a great deal of that time telling you exactly what's going to happen before it happens, and isn't even a little bit funny or believable. Whatever comic opportunities are there just aren't delivered upon, and the pacing is excruciating. The characters are such loose sketches that we aren't tempted to buy them either. Perhaps worst of all, the comic talents of a great cast are wasted, and not just the principles- while Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and a very game Deborah Kerr are striking out, great talent like Reta Shaw, Kathleen Freeman, John McGiver, and Parley Baer are left to ride the bench in a film that's thirty minutes too long.
The Scottish mother-in-law and Cesar Romero's shyster, both broadly stereotyped, bring the only really lively support, and it's mostly just bellowing and posturing.
The only redemption here, if any, is Dean Martin's bachelor pad, a wonderful set on which nothing really happens. And the color is pretty nice and lively for the most part, as per the period. And brunette Nancy Sinatra gives it her best and is always fun to watch. She has great chemistry with her dad and Dean.
To cleanse your soul of this, pull out Preston Sturges' immortal "The Palm Beach Story" and see how a marriage comedy should move and breathe.
Not this one.
The comic situation here takes way too long to develop, spends a great deal of that time telling you exactly what's going to happen before it happens, and isn't even a little bit funny or believable. Whatever comic opportunities are there just aren't delivered upon, and the pacing is excruciating. The characters are such loose sketches that we aren't tempted to buy them either. Perhaps worst of all, the comic talents of a great cast are wasted, and not just the principles- while Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and a very game Deborah Kerr are striking out, great talent like Reta Shaw, Kathleen Freeman, John McGiver, and Parley Baer are left to ride the bench in a film that's thirty minutes too long.
The Scottish mother-in-law and Cesar Romero's shyster, both broadly stereotyped, bring the only really lively support, and it's mostly just bellowing and posturing.
The only redemption here, if any, is Dean Martin's bachelor pad, a wonderful set on which nothing really happens. And the color is pretty nice and lively for the most part, as per the period. And brunette Nancy Sinatra gives it her best and is always fun to watch. She has great chemistry with her dad and Dean.
To cleanse your soul of this, pull out Preston Sturges' immortal "The Palm Beach Story" and see how a marriage comedy should move and breathe.