Joan Collins, Jayne Mansfield and Dan Dailey star in this engaging drama based on a novel by John Steinbeck. Three strangers - a stripper (Mansfield), an alcoholic wife (Collins) and a ... See full summary »
According to Joselyn Faris's book, Jayne Mansfield: A Bio-bibliography, "This documentary on the nightlife of Las Vegas was filmed primarily at the Topicana and Dunes Hotels, respectively, ... See full summary »
In this spoof of the TV advertising industry, Rockwell Hunter is the low man on the totem pole at the advertising company where he works. That is, until he finds the perfect spokes model for Stay-Put lipstick, the famous actress with the oh-so-kissable lips, Rita Marlowe. Unfortunately, in exchange, Rock has to act publicly as Rita's "Loverdoll", and Rock's fiancée Jenny isn't too happy about it either. Written by
Syam Gadde <email@example.com>
At the very start, Tony Randall appears on-screen before the 20th Century Fox logo, with musical instruments, and plays part of the fanfare himself. He then complains about "the fine print" in his contract, before introducing the cast and the movie. As he introduces the film, he forgets the title, first calling it The Girl Can't Help It (1956). Then he says "no we made that one already", and then he rummages through his pockets for his notes and comes up with a girl's name and phone number. Finally, his three female co-stars appear to announce the film's correct title. See more »
Frank Tashlin's brilliantly sardonic romantic satire remains his best film, one of many forgotten Tashlin masterpieces of the 1950s. Jayne Mansfield shines as the larger-than-life comic relief, Tony Randall is Tashlin's troubled alter ego, torn between corporate "success" and personal satisfaction, Henry Jones is his tragic, pill-popping, excessively phlegmatic executive co-worker , Joan Blondell a washed-up, lovelorn, milk-obsessed (!) variation on the Mansfield-type. The color, the Cinemascope, the set design all produces a cartoon-like visual magic which makes the deeply serious subject matter not only palatable but highly entertaining. Never mind Tashlin's mastery of Brechtian distanciation...
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