"If you love your country, you'll publish a filthy magazine!" That's what birdwatching magazine publisher is told when he learns that his clean cut all American family publishing company has taken on the smutty publishings of Edmund O'Brien, his whole reputation changing as he is forced to stand up for freedom of the press. It's a bizarre, unbelievable twist that the audience is forced to accept, and just doesn't work. I didn't find this to be a dirty little film disguised by a squeaky clean image, but just the opposite, and one that was just trying too hard to be daring while ending up unfunny and uninteresting.
With its colorful cast of supporting players and garish photography overloaded with various shades of red, this doesn't show Knotts at his best, and I spent more time eye rolling and head shaking than laughing. Anne Francis overdoses it as a very liberal journalist, and O'Brien speaks with more gravel than a Janis Joplin rock concert. I found this to be terribly dated and preposterous, with Knotts looking absolutely ridiculous in his lime green playboy get-up. Absolutely one note with its singular joke atmosphere an absolute fiasco. Knotts just isn't funny here no matter how hard he tries.
With its colorful cast of supporting players and garish photography overloaded with various shades of red, this doesn't show Knotts at his best, and I spent more time eye rolling and head shaking than laughing. Anne Francis overdoses it as a very liberal journalist, and O'Brien speaks with more gravel than a Janis Joplin rock concert. I found this to be terribly dated and preposterous, with Knotts looking absolutely ridiculous in his lime green playboy get-up. Absolutely one note with its singular joke atmosphere an absolute fiasco. Knotts just isn't funny here no matter how hard he tries.