Jerry Lewis made some of his best films with Frank Tashlin, of which this is one. He plays dog walker 'Norman Phiffier', one of nature's dorks, with whom the lovely Barbara Tuttle ( Jill St.John ) is hopelessly besotted. Bab's mother is the fearsomely rich Phoebe Tuttle ( Agnes Moorehead ), owner of Tuttle's world-famous department stores. Not wishing this idiot to become one of her relatives, she arranges for Norman to work in one such store. He is given a succession of dirty, dangerous jobs by manager Mr.Quimby ( Ray Walston ) in the hope that he will quit and leave Barbara alone...
The first twenty or so minutes are virtually laugh-free, but then something marvellous happens. Jerry wanders into an empty office and begins tapping an imaginary typewriter to the sound of Leroy Anderson's 'Typewriter Song'. The idea is not brilliant, but the execution is. Lewis' facial expressions are a joy to behold. From this point on, the film does not put a foot wrong, as with each new job Norman screws up big time. Tashlin's background as a cartoonist is evident in these scenes. When demonstrating a golfing game, Norman sends the ball crashing through the window, beginning a long journey that sends it around the street ( knocking out a traffic cop along the way ) and right back where it started. Working in the shoe department, he tries to fit shoes on a lady wrestler. Thinking he is trying to get fresh with her, she belts him one. He is not totally stupid though - required to paint the ball on the end of a flagpole at the top of the store, he finds a way to do the job without endangering his life. The surreal climax has Norman attempting to deal with an out-of-control vacuum cleaner which is behaving like a '50's sci-fi movie monster.
Despite the slapstick tone, the script manages a neat dig or two at our consumerist society, most notably in the sequence where Norman has to deal with dozens of women out to take advantage of a sale. Its like watching the Sack of Carthage in Technicolour.
Barbara's infatuation with Norman is hard to understand, but then this is a comedy, after all. As ever, Jerry is surrounded by top-notch comic talent, including John McGiver ( as Barbara's Dad ) and the ever-reliable Kathleen Freeman.
This is an engaging, wacky farce, and worth catching for the aforementioned 'typewriter' mime which is comedy gold.
The first twenty or so minutes are virtually laugh-free, but then something marvellous happens. Jerry wanders into an empty office and begins tapping an imaginary typewriter to the sound of Leroy Anderson's 'Typewriter Song'. The idea is not brilliant, but the execution is. Lewis' facial expressions are a joy to behold. From this point on, the film does not put a foot wrong, as with each new job Norman screws up big time. Tashlin's background as a cartoonist is evident in these scenes. When demonstrating a golfing game, Norman sends the ball crashing through the window, beginning a long journey that sends it around the street ( knocking out a traffic cop along the way ) and right back where it started. Working in the shoe department, he tries to fit shoes on a lady wrestler. Thinking he is trying to get fresh with her, she belts him one. He is not totally stupid though - required to paint the ball on the end of a flagpole at the top of the store, he finds a way to do the job without endangering his life. The surreal climax has Norman attempting to deal with an out-of-control vacuum cleaner which is behaving like a '50's sci-fi movie monster.
Despite the slapstick tone, the script manages a neat dig or two at our consumerist society, most notably in the sequence where Norman has to deal with dozens of women out to take advantage of a sale. Its like watching the Sack of Carthage in Technicolour.
Barbara's infatuation with Norman is hard to understand, but then this is a comedy, after all. As ever, Jerry is surrounded by top-notch comic talent, including John McGiver ( as Barbara's Dad ) and the ever-reliable Kathleen Freeman.
This is an engaging, wacky farce, and worth catching for the aforementioned 'typewriter' mime which is comedy gold.