Red Skelton's Ben Dobson is one manipulated man: by boss Charles Dingle, wife Polly Bergen and the rather cumbersome neighbors who outside a few (like delightful old curmudgeon Burt Mustin) are genuinely boring and predictable. Dingle reminds me of the "Twilight Zone" boss barking "Push, push, push!" to his passive employees.
It seems with every scene, a familiar face pops up for an analogy of suburban staidism, starting with pushy female door to door saleswoman Kathleen Freeman and continuing with neighbors Dabbs Greer and Dorothy Patrick. The story focuses on how Skelton writes a scathing article on the peaceful family neighborhood. Willard Waterman as the real estate rep brings Mary Wickes and Frank Cady as possible buyers of their house, hysterically tearing down everything that Skelton and Hagen have done to fix it up.
Amusing but cynical (and obviously something that recently exited MGM executive Louis B. Mayer would have not approved of. Maybe ahead of its time in an ensemble of basically unlikable common folk, and for me, it presented mixed messages. It's a completely different role for Skelton, lacking his typical schtick and far more serious. In a sense, it's an art film that comments on the foibles of the modern world. A young Polly Bergen appears as herself, singing "Love" almost winning lyrics as Lena Horne did in "Ziegfeld Follies" and Judy Garland did in a Capitol album.
It seems with every scene, a familiar face pops up for an analogy of suburban staidism, starting with pushy female door to door saleswoman Kathleen Freeman and continuing with neighbors Dabbs Greer and Dorothy Patrick. The story focuses on how Skelton writes a scathing article on the peaceful family neighborhood. Willard Waterman as the real estate rep brings Mary Wickes and Frank Cady as possible buyers of their house, hysterically tearing down everything that Skelton and Hagen have done to fix it up.
Amusing but cynical (and obviously something that recently exited MGM executive Louis B. Mayer would have not approved of. Maybe ahead of its time in an ensemble of basically unlikable common folk, and for me, it presented mixed messages. It's a completely different role for Skelton, lacking his typical schtick and far more serious. In a sense, it's an art film that comments on the foibles of the modern world. A young Polly Bergen appears as herself, singing "Love" almost winning lyrics as Lena Horne did in "Ziegfeld Follies" and Judy Garland did in a Capitol album.