Retro Review by Joseph Bullock
Frank Tashlin has always been something of an outsider amongst critics. While acclaimed by the writers at Cahiers du Cinéma as early as the 1950s, many proponents of the auteur theory have excluded him from discussions of great Hollywood directors – perhaps not finding enough distinction in his work, perhaps not deeming the lightness of his comedy an apt context for claims of artistic greatness. Still, it’s safe to say that he wouldn’t have given much thought to evaluations of this kind, and it is his brazen, seemingly effortless sense of levity and invention that makes his work so enjoyable.
This is not to say that his movies aren't about anything. Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?, often considered his best film, operates simultaneously as a satire on New York’s advertising industry, Hollywood stardom, and the act of filmmaking itself. The titular hero (played with excellent, naive eccentricity by Tony Randall) immerses himself into these worlds not without sacrifice, risking his sense of self-worth and his relationships. Yet it is clear that most conflicts, especially with his fiance, arise from misunderstandings rather than genuine heartache. While Tashlin can be cynical, there is always an easy way out for his protagonists.
Rock’s success and possible downfall come almost by accident. Searching to secure an advertising deal for ‘Stay-put Lipstick,’ he recognises the selling power of his niece’s favourite star, who happens to be in New York keeping away from the press and her macho boyfriend (who stars in a TV jungle show). Rita Marlowe, a platinum blonde so obviously a parody of Marilyn Monroe that it hurts, gains her own ambition to fashion Rock into her “Lover Doll,” sustaining a fake relationship to generate press and make her partner jealous.
It’s worth exploring why her performance doesn’t feel excessively mean-spirited or misogynistic, because the stereotype of “the busty dumb blonde” was rife in Hollywood at the time, and it was something that even a very intelligent comedic presence like Monroe could be burdened with. Firstly, I think the fact that Jayne Mansfield (who plays Rita Marlowe) operated as Fox’s version of Monroe lends a sense of petty rivalry that never punches down, instead wallowing in exaggeration and a farcical imitation that could be described as knowingly stupid.
Also, while undeniably simple-minded, Marlowe’s pursuit of Rock Hunter constantly emasculates him, making his cynical ad attempts seem gentle and ingenuous. The chaotic and charismatic interplay between Tony Randall’s fish-out-of-water hero and Jayne Mansfield’s good-natured, impulsive star is something that Tashlin’s previous collaboration with her, The Girl Can’t Help It (1956), sorely misses. It is a testament to the brash brilliance of her performance that mispronunciations, alongside her singular, abrasive whistling sound, generate such indelible comedy.
Tashlin’s style of humour has often been described as cartoonish, a notion made more enticing by his background working on seminal series such as Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies. An excellent Senses of Cinema article on the director problematises this, but it is clear why the descriptor lands. Many of his techniques – inverted physics, hallucinatory visuals, the subversion of consumer products and designs – are simply associated with the golden age of American animation rather than live-action comedy.
On the other hand, these effects are limited. For every object-based ejaculation gag – of which this movie contains more than most – there are a number of jokes rooted in performance or in slightly enlarged real-life situations. Some things are just a bit off, like the costume of Rita’s dog or the amount of liquor that her friend and assistant drinks. Line-by-line, Tashlin uses the basic plot of the original Broadway play to produce delightfully ornate and witty dialogue as well as understated, quick puns and verbal spars.
Assessments of his visual style, which has been deeply undervalued, are inseparable from his unique sense of humour. Expressions of loneliness or entrapment, unlike in Billy Wilder’s work, for example, are without exception faintly ridiculous; the drama is always funny. When Rock, dissatisfied with advertising, locks himself away from colleagues, his window appears like a cage in the massive CinemaScope frame. While the wide aspect ratio heightens this moment’s emotional resonance, it also makes it look misshapen and mildly pathetic.
Similarly, his return to the agency near the end of the film suggests to us a great cynicism and feeling of regret, especially at the fact that his fiance has become convinced of his “Lover Doll” persona and relationship with Rita Marlowe. As he enters, a red hue surrounds the dim office interior. A vague, subdued song plays with the lyrics ‘you got it made’ and a typewriter (somewhat eerily) notes the words of its own accord. When a translucent, money-adorning Rita appears however, Tashlin cannot resist having her produce one of her strange, hysterical shrieks.
Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? blazes past with a somewhat miraculous triviality. Outside of its dazzling pastel colours and elaborate visual design, there are two great qualities that elevate it to the territory of genius screen comedy. The first is the cast and crew: a number of them simply never reached these heights again. (Tony Randall, for instance, is excellent in Pillow Talk and other romantic comedies, but these were mainly supporting roles.) The second quality is the movie’s fragmented, self-aware structure, which adds a compelling, unruly playfulness and intelligence to a plot that we pretty much understand from the beginning. In The Girl Can’t Help It, Tom Ewell’s protagonist introduced the CinemaScope and DeLuxe colour technologies through gestures which seem to activate them. Here, Tony Randall’s lead confuses the title with this other film and is shown playing various parts of the 20th Century Fox theme decades before The Simpsons Movie (2007) performed a similar trick.
Later on – and in a definite act of punching down, albeit an insecure one – Randall pauses the feature in order to make sure that Television fans are having a good time, with Tashlin shrinking and obscuring the frame to replicate the limitations of the medium. This, alongside a montage of parodic commercials, are just some of the ways Rock Hunter maintains its affectionate, frivolous tone without ever seeming inessential. Assuredly, it is rare that a comedy director has had such fun subverting the boundaries of the cinematic medium itself. Rare too is a movie that so perfectly conveys who its creators were and why they should be appreciated for decades to come.