This is another film I had missed out on a number of times on Cable TV in the past. It's considered something of a censorship milestone with the treatment of taboo subjects such as prostitution, homosexuality and pornography not to mention the proliferation of bad language throughout (unfortunately, the DVD is said to contain the slightly edited PG-rated version, which cuts some brief nudity involving female lead Barbra Streisand and her use of the f-word in one scene)!
With this in mind, one has to consider the development which the comedy genre underwent during this time: from the mildly risqué sophisticated antics of the Doris Day/Rock Hudson films of the early 1960s to the cynical anxiety-ridden variety that started emanating towards the tail-end of the decade with which the likes of Jack Lemmon, George Segal (the male lead of this film) and, in particular, Woody Allen (since he was his own writer and mostly directed himself as well) are forever associated.
THE OWL AND THE PUSSYCAT is also notable for giving the current female singing sensation Barbra Streisand her first non-musical role; in fact, it led to other wacky comedy vehicles: foremost among them WHAT'S UP, DOC? (1972; Peter Bogdanovich's updating of the Howard Hawks classic BRINGING UP BABY [1938]) and FOR PETE'S SAKE (1974; whose trailer, included on the Columbia R2 DVD of the film under review, makes it seem like a good deal of fun). Thanks largely to his role in the film, Segal went on to do his fair share of sex comedies up till the early 1980s with the most successful among them being A TOUCH OF CLASS (1973), which I should be acquiring shortly.
Anyway, to get to the main item: the film can be seen as a modern variation on the perennial "Pygmalion" theme with Segal as intellectual but, at the same time, neurotic and Streisand the uncouth yet liberated woman. There's no plot to speak of instead, we follow the two stars on a logical pattern of location-hopping around New York throughout which their relationship blossoms: from his apartment when she's evicted because of his snitching (which leads to both of them being given the gate by the landlord), to them shacking up at the flat of Segal's pal (who drives them out because of their constant bickering), then going their separate ways till they meet again (after he has learned about her movie experience a hilarious scene and a 'colleague' of hers has gone to see him at his workplace) and go out together (where they're harassed by a band of thrill-seekers), after which they find themselves at the house of Segal's fiancée (a scene with an unexpectedly ironic punchline), to finally deciding to be completely honest with one another (beginning with their real names).
In this respect, the film emerges to be overly talky (betraying its stage origins) but there is a reasonable amount of invention and wit in the undeniable comedy highlights: Segal dressing up as Death to scare the hiccupping Streisand; Segal using an aquarium as a TV set with him delivering an impromptu news flash to humor the insomniac Streisand (her addiction to TV is illustrated by a surprising reference to the Lionel Atwill/Lon Chaney Jr. horror pic MAN MADE MONSTER [1941]); the couple's argument over "the sun spat morning" line in the opening paragraph of a book by aspiring novelist Segal; Streisand's account of the sordid activities her clients invariably came up with (prompting Segal to describe her as "a sexual Disneyland"), etc. The film's soundtrack is highlighted by several songs from jazz/rock band Blood, Sweat & Tears.
With this in mind, one has to consider the development which the comedy genre underwent during this time: from the mildly risqué sophisticated antics of the Doris Day/Rock Hudson films of the early 1960s to the cynical anxiety-ridden variety that started emanating towards the tail-end of the decade with which the likes of Jack Lemmon, George Segal (the male lead of this film) and, in particular, Woody Allen (since he was his own writer and mostly directed himself as well) are forever associated.
THE OWL AND THE PUSSYCAT is also notable for giving the current female singing sensation Barbra Streisand her first non-musical role; in fact, it led to other wacky comedy vehicles: foremost among them WHAT'S UP, DOC? (1972; Peter Bogdanovich's updating of the Howard Hawks classic BRINGING UP BABY [1938]) and FOR PETE'S SAKE (1974; whose trailer, included on the Columbia R2 DVD of the film under review, makes it seem like a good deal of fun). Thanks largely to his role in the film, Segal went on to do his fair share of sex comedies up till the early 1980s with the most successful among them being A TOUCH OF CLASS (1973), which I should be acquiring shortly.
Anyway, to get to the main item: the film can be seen as a modern variation on the perennial "Pygmalion" theme with Segal as intellectual but, at the same time, neurotic and Streisand the uncouth yet liberated woman. There's no plot to speak of instead, we follow the two stars on a logical pattern of location-hopping around New York throughout which their relationship blossoms: from his apartment when she's evicted because of his snitching (which leads to both of them being given the gate by the landlord), to them shacking up at the flat of Segal's pal (who drives them out because of their constant bickering), then going their separate ways till they meet again (after he has learned about her movie experience a hilarious scene and a 'colleague' of hers has gone to see him at his workplace) and go out together (where they're harassed by a band of thrill-seekers), after which they find themselves at the house of Segal's fiancée (a scene with an unexpectedly ironic punchline), to finally deciding to be completely honest with one another (beginning with their real names).
In this respect, the film emerges to be overly talky (betraying its stage origins) but there is a reasonable amount of invention and wit in the undeniable comedy highlights: Segal dressing up as Death to scare the hiccupping Streisand; Segal using an aquarium as a TV set with him delivering an impromptu news flash to humor the insomniac Streisand (her addiction to TV is illustrated by a surprising reference to the Lionel Atwill/Lon Chaney Jr. horror pic MAN MADE MONSTER [1941]); the couple's argument over "the sun spat morning" line in the opening paragraph of a book by aspiring novelist Segal; Streisand's account of the sordid activities her clients invariably came up with (prompting Segal to describe her as "a sexual Disneyland"), etc. The film's soundtrack is highlighted by several songs from jazz/rock band Blood, Sweat & Tears.