Moronic Connie Francis vehicle
12 March 2005
This film plays like a cross between a 40s MGM musical and a 60s sitcom, combining the worst of both worlds. And, not being a Francis fan, even the many musical interludes don't pacify me. Seeing that the director and scriptwriter were from TV, I shouldn't be surprised at the result. I guess MGM didn't think poor Connie deserved first-rate attention. But, then again, Elvis suffered the same fate.

Connie's character is an idiot, and Jim Hutton's a jack#@@. We are supposed to believe that "Libby" pines after "Paul," a man who blatantly shows a hatred towards women? There is no chemistry between either of the two couples, in any combination.

Paula Prentiss must have established a friendship with Francis after making "Where the Boys Are" four years earlier; otherwise, why would she have agreed to a 30 second cameo, during which she speaks one short sentence, and is promptly bopped on the head?

And, please, the Lady Valet? Perhaps the writer didn't realize that such a "contraption," in some form or another, has existed for hundreds of years. One doubts the lame version presented in the film could ever secure its creator a slot on The Tonight Show (but it is great to see Johnny).

The movie does display a reasonable budget, as many of the sets have a more- than-sitcom feel. I wonder how many times they had to shoot that grocery store scene? However, notice that after the girls become rich, and live in a HUGE mansion, they still share a bedroom? (It's not surprising that scriptwriter Flippen did some work on "The Brady Bunch.")

If you plan on sampling one of the four 60s Francis flicks, stick with the first, "Where the Boys Are."
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