Promises..... Promises!

In a world where the cinematic landscape is regularly changing in many various ways, it's nice to know that there are some constants on which one can rely. One of these is that sex comedies, as a genre, are simply bad. They always have been, and they always will be. They rely on the cheapest and most boorish of gags, jokes, and plots, appealing to the lowest common denominator. They're frankly demeaning to all involved in their creation for how low the participants are made to stoop, the cast not least of all, whose "acting" forfeits all tact, nuance, or meaningful skill. From one picture to the next it's hard to say which is worse, yet there are two reasons 'Promises..... promises!' might be near the bottom of the barrel.

For one thing, set aside the sexual elements here and the movie is defined by sensibilities that feel ripped straight from TV sitcoms of the 1950s. I suppose one could argue that such perfectly charming, perfectly happy-go-lucky, perfectly pleasant ham-handedness could be intended as a send-up of such notions, though even if that's true, this takes the parodying spirit too far and becomes the object of its own intended mockery. Regardless, it's safe to say that the viewing experience is a little taxing as the dialogue, characters, scene writing, narrative, direction, acting, and even the music all seem to embrace pointedly artificial kitsch over meaningful humor or substance. Taxing - and not actually very fun. It's hard to get a real sense of the capabilities of anyone involved when they are all geared toward being as frivolous as possible - and, it seems, lazy and unimaginative.

Secondly, at a time in the film industry before nudity became commonplace, Jayne Mansfield's nude scenes here come off as an extra tawdry, desperate ploy for attention and viewership. A couple of these are pointlessly, shamelessly repeated, multiple times each, in what seems to me to be a tacit admission by the filmmakers that their production had no significant value otherwise, and they needed the boost themselves. I'm no puritan, and I've no objection to sex and nudity in media, but sometimes the inclusion is plainly gratuitous - and here, "gratuitous" is overly generous a description. "Vulgar" and "begging for relevance" seem more appropriate.

It's not that there aren't any good ideas here, but in both the writing and execution they are handled very blithely and even carelessly. The value, and indeed the plot, just kind of get forgotten for the preponderance of the length. This begins with what seems like a firm concept, then just scatters. Factor in all the other facets that are so uninteresting, or even irritating, and one struggles to say this is likable or enjoyable in any capacity. I'm glad for those who get something more out of this feature, and find it entertaining; I regret the 75 minutes I just wasted. Whatever it is you think you'll get out of 'Promises..... promises!' there are much better and more worthwhile ways to get it; just don't bother with this.

Terrible, terrible comedy. But if I were rating it, I'd give it 1 star for the script, photography, and performances, and 10 for the display of Ms. Mansfield's ample attributes. I think this is why they invented the fast-forward button

This movie is considerate: it delivers what it promises (Jayne Mansfield topless) twice in the first 5 minutes - so you don't really need to bother with the remaining 70. Mansfield has a sensational body indeed (breasts as well as legs), but the film is more static and unfunny that smutty and scandalous. Tommy Noonan's drunken routine gets tiresome fast, T.C. Jones' gay-hairdresser routine is even worse. *1/2 out of 4.

The 1963 Jayne Mansfield "comedy" "Promises! Promises!" is best known these days for one thing (well, better make that TWO things!)--it is the film in which Jayne displayed her unfettered rib balloons; the first time a major actress ever did so in a mainstream Hollywood picture. Unfortunately, the film offers pretty much nothing else, and potential viewers would be well advised--no, warned--to bail out after Jayne's initial nude appearance, which happily occurs only three minutes in. During the following 72 minutes, Jayne and her bespectacled hubby, played by the film's co-producer and co-writer, Tommy Noonan, go on a long ocean cruise with their friends, Mickey Hargitay and Marie "The Body" McDonald. Through a set of ridiculous plot contrivances that include placebo drugs, seasickness and lots of liquor, Tommy can't quite figure out how Jayne has suddenly become preggers and just who did the knocking up. Dated, dreary, deadly and dumb (how's that for double D's?), the picture is a real labor to sit through; it is absolutely, consistently and painfully unfunny, and every lame gag falls (you should pardon the expression) absolutely flat. Character actor King Donovan's direction is uninspired, TV legend Imogene Coca goes completely wasted in a teensy role, and female impersonator T.C. Jones is an embarrassment. Strangely, Jayne unclothed does not look nearly as spectacular as Jayne strutting about in formfitting sweaters and gowns in such truly marvelous comedies as "The Girl Can't Help It" (1956) and "Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?" (1957). I had originally decided to give this film two stars--one for each...well, you know--but cannot give it even that "high" a rating in good conscience. There is no form of entertainment more lethal, for me, than a completely unfunny comedy, and only a big dumb boob would find this one amusing.

There was a time when you could not show nudity in films. And then all of a sudden you could. Who better to use to display this newfound freedom than Jayne Mansfield? So, in Promises! Promises! Mansfield takes off her clothes. Anything else worth saying about the film? Not really. It's a comedy of mishaps and misunderstandings. Unfortunately there is practically nothing that is at all funny in this supposed comedy. How desperate is the film for laughs? Well, there's a female impersonator, a character who is the most wretched thing in the largely wretched film. He does a Jayne Mansfield impersonation. Mansfield's character responds that she does her too. Hilarious, right? No, not at all. The plot, about who exactly is impregnating whom aboard a cruise ship, is rather inane. There's not even enough story to stretch the film out to a proper feature length. The film clocks in at a mere 75 minutes but it seems interminable. In a sign of true desperation Mansfield's brief nude scenes are repeated over and over again in dream sequences or flashbacks. At least the filmmakers were honest with themselves and the audience. They knew people were only coming to see this film for one reason. Well, two reasons to be precise. Mansfield's acting in the film actually isn't half bad. But the story's a dud and the rest of the cast gives Mansfield very little support. As a film Promises! Promises! fails miserably. But nobody cares about its quality as a film, the thing only exists as a vehicle to show off Mansfield's prize assets. In that, if nothing else, it succeeds.