WILL SUCCESS SPOIL ROCK HUNTER?: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1957) Twilight Time

From its zany impressions on crass commercialism, circa the 1950’s, to Jayne Mansfield’s lusciously on-point spoof of Fox’s most easily trademarked resident blonde – Marilyn Monroe, director, Frank Tashlin’s Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957) remains a tart and tantalizing dark comedy, light years ahead of its time in its spot-on critique of celebrity culture and humanity’s mad inhuman pursuit to be famous just to be famous.  The picture is at once a commentary and a conflagration of vices and in-jokes about the television age, advertising, and Hollywood hype; Tashlin, taking the title and leading lady from George Axelrod’s hit Broadway play, but pretty much scrapping everything else in favor of his own original screenplay. As on the stage, Mansfield plays Rita Marlowe herein, an over-the-top bombshell/sexpot who concocts an implausible scenario to ensnare a middle-aged man after her studio-crafted romance with a Hollywood hunk is a bust. The inside joke here is that the hunk du jour Rita endeavors to make jealous just happens to be Mickey (Miklós) Hargitay, 1955’s Mr. Universe, and, Mansfield’s real-life hubby at the time. Along with Steve Reeves, Hargitay is largely acknowledged today as being one of the first ‘muscle men’ to kick start the ‘body beautiful’ fitness craze – bodybuilding, pre-Hargitay, considered an unnatural, narcissistic and thoroughly freakish pursuit. Gotta hand it to Mickey – even with fake fuzz glued to his pecs, he cuts an indelible beefcake.

Not surprising, Axelrod’s stagecraft owes a lot thematically to his other big smash from the period, The Seven Year Itch (brought to the stage in 1952, and made into a memorable Monroe movie in 1955, costarring Tom Ewell). Interestingly, Tashlin considered Ewell for the part of harried ad man, Rockwell P. Hunter, before settling on the nebbish Tony Randall instead. In Tashlin’s plasticized world, slogans, sensationalism, and superficial sex appeal supersede class, culture and common sense; Tashlin’s astute observations, devious in exposing and undercutting the post-war, decade-long rabid fascination with ‘pop culture’ – indeed, about to go pop under pressure. There is even a clever moment where Tashlin takes this literally, as Mansfield’s undulating sex kitten plants a wet one on Randall’s naïve numbskull, only to make the bag of theater popcorn tucked in his side coat pocket explode. Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? is joyously obscene in its double entendre; Tashlin, somehow skirting Hollywood’s then iron-clad production code and getting away with murder, lampooning the industry and its aversion to sex. That Mansfield, an ex-Playboy model, ought to have ascended from centerfold to star – however brief her tenure on the screen – is a one-off Tashlin exploits with relish; the glamorous Rita Marlowe, dripping in white fur and high heels, stepping off a TWA flight into a throng of sycophantic worshipers, only to tear open her coat and reveal her torpedo-shaped bosoms, barely contained inside a leopard-print one-piece bathing suit. Yeow!

And it isn’t only Randall’s adventurous ad man who gets tongue-tied and giddy around our Rita’s cartoonish sexual anarchy, striking a détente to preserve the integrity of his advertising firm and carry the company into even greater fiscal profitability. The women here are as enamored of Rita’s charms; some, like Rockwell’s niece,  April (Lily Gentle), in absolute awe of her spectacular ‘inflatable doll-like’ demeanor, while others - in particular, Rockwell’s betrothed ‘plain Jane’ secretary, Jenny Wells (Betsy Drake), somewhat desperate to rival Rita’s ravenous sex appeal, down to buying rubber inserts for her bra and nailing Rita’s bubble-headed squeakle in a thoroughly wicked lampoon. My, isn’t it marvy? Tashlin’s cynical satire hits the ground running with his mockery of the iconic 2oth Century-Fox Cinemascope fanfare; Rockwell P. Hunter appearing in the bottom left of the screen, to ever-so-slightly bastardize Alfred Newman’s iconic anthem with his trumpet and bass fiddle. In place of a pop song (although one is afforded later on: You Got It Made, written by Bobby Troup and performed by Georgia Carr) – virtually all Fox ‘scope’ movies usually began with a tune targeted squarely at the hit parade. Tashlin, instead fills the screen with consumerism run amok - ridiculous ‘commercial’ endorsements for products that fail to live up to their hype (beer that is all foam, bargain used cars with doors falling off, and cereal – billed as nutritious – but when plied with milk, invigorated into an atomic explosion).

Later, Tashlin will take TV to task, shrinking the full-color Cinemascope image down to an almost microscopic B&W blip that crops Rockwell’s head off in mid-commentary, merely to fit it within the limitations of TV’s 21-inch screen. Curiously, the TV broadcasts viewed from the comfort of Rockwell’s apartment, documenting Rita Marlowe’s arrival in New York, are all in color. While color broadcasting was available in the U.S. by 1953, it was accordingly very expensive and not widely used – the first TV show to be actually broadcast ‘in living color’, not appearing until 1966! So, either Rita’s arrival is truly an earth-shattering event, worthy of the effort to be a forerunner in the medium, or Tashlin is applying even more facetious artistic license to prove his point about the total market saturation of navel-gazing pop culture into our collective sub-consciousness. Whatever his motives, immediately following the main titles, Tashlin arrives, via a few impressive overheads of New York City and Tony Randall’s voice-over, to Madison Avenue and the advertising firm of LaSalle Jr. Raskin, Cooley and Crocket. We meet Rockwell P. Hunter, a lowly cog in the big wheel, just another ad-agency lackey, virtually ignored by the company’s austere president, Irving LaSalle Jr. (John Williams); Tashlin, applying the cliché of the resolute, if isolated exec in his grey flannel suit and ivory tower; an archetype that uncannily populated a good many Fox films throughout the 1950’s. Informed by his middling exec/boss, Henry Rufus (Henry Jones) the firm is about to lose their plush Stay-put Lipstick account, certain to spell disaster and layoffs, Rockwell turns himself inside out to hand-craft a new campaign to keep the client happy – and paying!

In the meantime, we cut away to Rockwell’s home life; uncle to the headstrong, April who, as President of the local chapter of the Rita Marlowe fan club, thinks nothing of sneaking out at the crack of dawn to meet Marlowe’s plane at the airport. Inadvertently, this gives Rockwell the nugget of an idea for his marketing ploy. Rita, known throughout the industry as the most ‘kissable’ star, will endorse Stay-Put as her lipstick of choice, certain to send sales skyrocketing. Alas, by the time Rockwell gets to the office, Rufus and the rest of the ad men are already embroiled in a dead-end meeting with LaSalle, who not only despises virtually all of the promos Rufus has already pitched, but is about to dismiss everyone from the office before Rockwell can even make his pitch to the group. Confronting LaSalle with his shortsightedness, Rockwell is promptly sacked. While leaving the office in a huff, Rockwell inadvertently bumps into Stay-Put’s President, who absolutely loves his concept drawings for the ad campaign. One problem: Rockwell has yet to secure Rita’s endorsement. Learning from April where Rita and her private secretary, Violet (Joan Blondell) are staying, Rockwell heads off to spearhead the pitch and hopefully secure Rita’s participation. Of course, he does, though not without a few concessions and caveats to consider. It seems Rita has just separated from her long-time boyfriend and Hollywood hunk/bad boy, Bobo Branigansky (Mickey Hargitay) – the hulking star of TV’s Tarzan-esque jungle adventure series – over an affair he supposedly had with an undisclosed starlet.

Bobo is unnerved by this momentary hiccup in their relationship. In fact, he all but suggests Rita will get over it and come running back to him once she regains her sanity from the little green-eyed monster. Incensed by his chest-thumping egotism, Rita agrees to lend her support to Rockwell’s ad campaign, but only if he pretends to be her new ‘Lover Doll.’ Under Tashlin’s celebrity-saturated pretext, this apparently becomes instant and overnight ‘front page’ news; international headlines touting this totally concocted ‘whirlwind romance’. Irving could not be happier. Indeed, with Rita’s endorsement, his firm is flush with publicity and profits.  Naturally, however, this ruse incurs the displeasure of Rockwell’s mainstay and private secretary, Jenny Wells. Usually not the jealous type, even Jenny concedes Rita possesses certain ‘assets’ she can only guess at, much less hope to compete with in order to keep Rockwell at home.  As the deal with Rita also includes a prime time television spectacular to be sponsored by Stay-Put, Rockwell is elevated to Vice President and given the keys to the executive washroom. Rita, however, remains quite forlorn. Bobo was just a passing fancy. Her heart has always belonged to the first fellow who broke it: George Schmidlap (Groucho Marx).

As Rita and Violet exchange sob stories about the proverbial ‘one that got away’, Rita begins to transfer her affections to Rock, only further complicating his relationship with Jenny. At first, embracing his newfound fame and stature among the ladies as amiable eye candy, Rockwell soon realizes fame is a double-edged sword. Teenage girls chase him through the streets, tearing at his clothes for a souvenir. Meanwhile Jenny, having invested in a nightmarish exercise program to will herself into what she believes to be Rockwell’s ‘kind of woman’, arrives at the office wearing a rubberized bra in a tight-fitting sweater, having perfected Rita’s walk, talk and squeakle. Only Rockwell doesn’t want a knock-off of Rita, or even Rita herself. He just wants his old life and girlfriend back. When Irving confides in Rockwell, he never wanted to be an executive, but a horticulturalist – and resigns – leaving the future of the company to his best ad man, Rockwell too quickly discovers the things he once thought of as truly important to him, in reality, have no basis in achieving personal happiness. Nothing matters without love. So, after Rockwell arranges for Rita’s big televised Stay-Put spectacular, featuring a ‘surprise guest’ – none other than George Schmidlap – the reconciled couple, Rita and George, find true love at long last. Rockwell, who always dreamed of raising chickens, uses his newfound wealth to do just that, buy a farm and move April and Jenny to the country. In the penultimate end titles, we learn that Irving has since become a skilled botanist, engineering a new strain or roses he has named after himself. Violet and Rufus have also become a couple, and, Rockwell has, at last made an honest woman of Jenny.     

Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? is as ebullient as it remains sharp-witted and good humored; Tashlin, keeping all the variables in play, taking his potshots at the superficial, vain, and transparently phony, right up until the proverbial ‘happy ending’.  Tashlin’s cynicism is on full display here, illustrating further to the point that raw talent, however motivated, is not enough. It comes secondary to success, or rather, the superficial appearance of it, thinly hinged on nothing more or better than blind luck, chutzpah and the right connections. And Tashlin is quick to dash to bits corporate ethics when climbing up the proverbial ‘ladder’ – success viewed, either as toxic to the soul, or an embalming influence. Fleeting fame and vacuous wealth, or ‘the art of being truly happy’? The choice is up to Rockwell. And, mercifully, he chooses wisely in the end. Tashlin’s razor-sharp jibes are morality-based; finding their kernel of genuine sincerity in the buxom, but bored blonde who never realizes as much for herself. Jayne Mansfield’s enterprising airhead is an outrageous and gaudy delight.  And Tashlin’s flick unravels as pure pun-laden lunacy. That the movie belly-flopped at the box office is somewhat disappointing, because there is so much loosey-goosey, and, thoroughly juicy material here to unpack; the plot – a threadbare excuse for Tashlin to pontificate, with riotous effect, on the foibles and follies of fifties pop culture and its runaway derailment of the nation’s sanity - all fizz, but no Coke.

Tashlin’s cartoon background gets transplanted into this free-wheeling/live-action milieu. It’s all madness and mirth. The allure of CinemaScope adds girth to the satire, as Tashlin’s inventive use of the ‘scope’ frame becomes ever more audacious, ripened fully in the scene when he inexplicably pauses the story to illustrate the superiority of movies in general, and, Fox’s patented widescreen process in particular, vs. ‘your big 21-inch screens’ at home; using Tony Randall to ‘pitch’ a commercial endorsement for Cinemascope; another sincere poke in the eye of the all-pervasive TV age. But it is Jayne Mansfield’s Monroe knock-off that remains the cream of the jest – her bosoms pointed outward like a pair of telescopic searchlights in profile, her prissy-fied poodle following her every kitsch and coo.  Taking Monroe’s ditz to the nth degree, Mansfield is a turbo-charged sexy hoot, extolling her own rare gift for caricature that constantly teeters, though never entirely transgresses across the line into flaming vulgarity and bad taste. Tashlin is fearless in his mockery of our celebrity adulation for such vacuous creatures, even more contemptuous of advertising’s shameless verve to market them, or any product – including pre-processed faux celebrity – as its own reward. Only in America in general, Madison Ave. in particular, and, in the movies, most specifically of all, can a milquetoast lump like Rockwell P. Hunter be transformed from a nondescript ad man into the infamous ‘Lover Doll’, to leave hormonal bobbysoxers screaming for his autograph.  

And, only in a movie like Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? do we see Tashlin’s moral compass spinning so wildly out of control as his reckless/feckless characters bump into each other like idiots trapped in an animated cartoon. Tashlin’s Freudian symbolism runs aground whenever Mansfield’s chassis hip-swivels into view, the sight of an inebriated Tony Randall being dragged from beneath a pub table, still quite unable to get his pipes lit (and yes, pipe here is code for penis), yields to Tashlin’s ribald subtext as he pours over, with even more insanely sexualized references, indiscriminately strewn about the proscenium like an uncontrollable expenditure of potent prophylactics.  Tony Randall’s fop is the perfect foil to Mansfield’s hyper-contorting vixen; squeamish about her sex appeal at one moment, then sashaying the buxom beauty about the dance floor in the next.  This is farce at its finest, and, juicily tinged in some erotic wigwagging, sure to cause a congenial brow sweat to intrude on our polite smiles.

Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? was previously released on Blu-ray in a ‘region B’ locked disc from Masters of Cinema in the UK. And while that 1080 transfer suffered from severe color fading and less than ample contrast, this newly remastered ‘region A’ Blu from Twilight Time in the U.S. is a major travesty. Contrast appears to have been artificially bumped, resulting in a grittier, darker image, with exaggerated black levels. Worse, certain scenes still look faded beyond repair – the Fox ‘scope’ titles, very anemic; the overhead shots of New York City, a brown/beige mess with zero sparkle. But most egregious than anything else is the teal-leaning bias in this remastered color palette. At one point in his audio commentary, historian, Dana Polan comments on Tashlin’s extraordinaire use of the color ‘grey’ to illustrate the uninspired nature and lack of collective creative motivation afflicting Irving’s ad agency during his initial meeting regarding the Stay-Put campaign. Polan points to the fact that everything from the walls in Irving’s office, to the plush seats of his executive suite, and, all of the ad men’s flannel suits are designed in a drab grey. Problem: what we are seeing on the screen is muddy garish teal with bilious yellow flesh tones to boot. Further evidence that some egregious error has been created during the picture’s color timing: virtually all reds register a ruddy brown/orange. Whites adopt a blue-ish tint.  And every spectral highlight is teal-based, so as to belie cinematographer, Joseph MacDonald’s expert use of the once vibrantly garish DeLuxe color spectrum. An uglier looking transfer I have yet to see in 1080p. What a disappointment! The 5.1 DTS audio is solid, but why even bother? Extras include an isolated score and Polan’s audio commentary, plus some vintage Fox Movietones newsreels and a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: while Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? has its pleasures to be mined, this 1080p transfer is such a train wreck, I strongly suggest that you pass, and be very – VERY – glad that you did!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

0

EXTRAS

2