One of the better Doris Day-comedies, well-made and enjoyable. It contains quite a few good scenes, such as the disastrous first commercial or the domestic crisis involving giant amounts of soap suds. There are a few possible inconsistencies here and there, such as the fact that a lady gets pregnant at an age where most women have gone through menopause, but still, these things happen.
However, I was far from charmed by the underlying message with regard to women. Beverly Boyer (the character played by Doris Day) is very much like one of these miniature ballerina dolls on top of music boxes, who dance for a few minutes and then disappear. She has her little moment in the sun and then it's back to a life of housewifely duties and suburban gentility, mainly because her husband can't cope with the idea (horror of horrors !) that he might have to wait ten minutes before getting dinner. Or else - my hand trembles as I type this - he might come home and discover that his martini was improperly chilled !
One does not need to be called Joanna Russ in order to realize there's a lot of contempt towards women hidden here. In case you doubt this, feel free to watch the scene where the said lady of mature years is about to give birth to her child inside a car. Beverly Boyer, a woman who has given birth herself, can console and assist her, but it is the male obstetrician who delivers the child, after riding to the rescue like a knight in shining armour. Aaah, poor silly women, they try their best - but when things get real, it's only a man who can save the day...
For clarity's sake, I'm not attacking male obstetricians, doctors or gynecologists - everyone who undertakes long and difficult studies in order to perform a responsible and socially useful job deserves the utmost respect. What I do dislike, is the idea that only males could or should become obstetricians, doctors or gynecologists, with females spending their time on preparing little lobster cocktails for posh dinner parties. I also object to the idea that women are complete ninnies who know bupkas about deliveries or first aid.
You might object that I'm looking at an older movie with the eyes of someone living in 2018. This is true, of course, but there is something mean-spirited and dismissive about the movie's intent which must have felt unpleasant even half a century ago.
However, I was far from charmed by the underlying message with regard to women. Beverly Boyer (the character played by Doris Day) is very much like one of these miniature ballerina dolls on top of music boxes, who dance for a few minutes and then disappear. She has her little moment in the sun and then it's back to a life of housewifely duties and suburban gentility, mainly because her husband can't cope with the idea (horror of horrors !) that he might have to wait ten minutes before getting dinner. Or else - my hand trembles as I type this - he might come home and discover that his martini was improperly chilled !
One does not need to be called Joanna Russ in order to realize there's a lot of contempt towards women hidden here. In case you doubt this, feel free to watch the scene where the said lady of mature years is about to give birth to her child inside a car. Beverly Boyer, a woman who has given birth herself, can console and assist her, but it is the male obstetrician who delivers the child, after riding to the rescue like a knight in shining armour. Aaah, poor silly women, they try their best - but when things get real, it's only a man who can save the day...
For clarity's sake, I'm not attacking male obstetricians, doctors or gynecologists - everyone who undertakes long and difficult studies in order to perform a responsible and socially useful job deserves the utmost respect. What I do dislike, is the idea that only males could or should become obstetricians, doctors or gynecologists, with females spending their time on preparing little lobster cocktails for posh dinner parties. I also object to the idea that women are complete ninnies who know bupkas about deliveries or first aid.
You might object that I'm looking at an older movie with the eyes of someone living in 2018. This is true, of course, but there is something mean-spirited and dismissive about the movie's intent which must have felt unpleasant even half a century ago.