Eugene and Rick are two struggling artists who share apartment. However, Rick has problems with that, because Eugene is obsessed with pulp fiction comic books and has nightmares because of that. However, Rick soon finds that those nightmares could be excellent material for his own comic books. Written by
Dragan Antulov <firstname.lastname@example.org>
I had never seen a Jerry Lewis vehicle before this one (not counting Scorsese's King of Comedy), and I was annoyed as hell for the first fifteen minutes. I even considered walking out, that's how irate I was getting at Lewis' mugging. But then there was a scene in which he was hilarious, so I hung onto it a bit. And it got funnier and funnier. Jerry Lewis isn't getting a clean bill of health from me; he still annoyed me once in a while. But in at least an equal amount of scenes, and probably a bit more, he was very funny. He and Dean Martin play "roommates" who met each other way back when they were Boy Scouts, sleep in separate twin beds in the same room, take baths with the door open, and at one point talk about getting a divorce. At one point the semi-retarded Lewis (and he admits as much himself) says to Martin: "I can't keep my dickie down, Ricky." Um, he's putting on a tuxedo I think. Similarly, Dorothy Malone lives in the apartment directly above them, unmarried with thick, black glasses and earning a good living on her own. She spends her time dressing the barely adult Shirley MacLaine, who has a cute little butch cut, up as the Bat Lady. The homosexual content seems to me almost too obvious to be meant. It's usually much subtler in Hollywood movies of the era. Then again, it's impossible to miss it, even you're a 1950s housewife. Eventually, the two gay couples meet and change partners, Martin getting Malone and Lewis MacLaine. MacLaine, in her second (or maybe third) role, is probably the film's standout, but Eddie Mayehoff, playing a comic book publisher who wants ever more violent comic books to sell, lands the highest percentage of the laughs. Eva Gabor has a decent part as a Soviet spy (a Cold War plotline appears out of thin air in the latter half of the film), and Anita Ekberg, later to co-star in Fellini's La Dolce Vita, also has a tiny role as a model. The non-Lewis related comedy is frivolous but excellent. The film also contains several great musical numbers. Dean Martin at one point starts dancing with a little girl on the street in a scene stolen from An American in Paris. The girl, though, is an excellent back-up singer and the song itself - I believe it's called "The Lucky Song" - is quite entertaining. 8/10.
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