It's a super-dated fluff story about an ambitious advertising man named Rock Hunter (Tony Randall) who finds a way to climb the corporate ladder with the help of a bleach-blonde bimbo with big lips named Rita Marlowe (Jayne Mansfield). She coos and squeals, and poses in front of a camera, on her way up Hollywood's stardom ladder. I have seen silent-era films that had more depth, entertainment value, heart, and contemporary relevance than this atrocity.
Characters are as shallow as they are silly, as superficial as they are stereotyped. The only thematic message is contained in the film's title. And guess how the film defines "success"; materialistic values, here we come. Aside from this odious theme, there is no message. Viewers back in 1957 must have been easy to please and free from the burdens of critical thinking to enjoy such a nothing movie.
Each main actor gets his or her own long monologue, no doubt a selling point to lure in the principal performers. I didn't like the way Tony Randall breaks the fourth wall and talks directly to viewers, corn pone savoir-faire straight from Hollywood. Script dialogue lacks subtext. And the plot flows straight from point A to point Z with nary a zigzag to interfere with viewers' minimal comprehension skills.
Background music is standard 1950's nondescript. Casting is acceptable except for Tony Randall, a mouse who couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag, much less able to take on the rigors of cold, in-house corporate politics. The one really fine performance is from reliable Joan Blondell, as companion to dimwit Rita Marlowe. Joan Blondell and a few funny lines save this antique from being a total cinematic misdemeanor.
Apparently aimed at an audience of giggly 16-year-old females, this popcorn and candy flick is pure diversionary fluff, and embarrassingly dated, a time capsule of horrid mainstream American pop culture during the stodgy Eisenhower era. No wonder juveniles back then were driven into delinquency.
Characters are as shallow as they are silly, as superficial as they are stereotyped. The only thematic message is contained in the film's title. And guess how the film defines "success"; materialistic values, here we come. Aside from this odious theme, there is no message. Viewers back in 1957 must have been easy to please and free from the burdens of critical thinking to enjoy such a nothing movie.
Each main actor gets his or her own long monologue, no doubt a selling point to lure in the principal performers. I didn't like the way Tony Randall breaks the fourth wall and talks directly to viewers, corn pone savoir-faire straight from Hollywood. Script dialogue lacks subtext. And the plot flows straight from point A to point Z with nary a zigzag to interfere with viewers' minimal comprehension skills.
Background music is standard 1950's nondescript. Casting is acceptable except for Tony Randall, a mouse who couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag, much less able to take on the rigors of cold, in-house corporate politics. The one really fine performance is from reliable Joan Blondell, as companion to dimwit Rita Marlowe. Joan Blondell and a few funny lines save this antique from being a total cinematic misdemeanor.
Apparently aimed at an audience of giggly 16-year-old females, this popcorn and candy flick is pure diversionary fluff, and embarrassingly dated, a time capsule of horrid mainstream American pop culture during the stodgy Eisenhower era. No wonder juveniles back then were driven into delinquency.