Le plaisir des dames

Prurient-minded comedy has acclaimed language professor David Niven furious over his sculptress wife's latest work of art: an 18-foot statue of a naked man with Niven's face but not his phallus (seems size is the sticking point). Since the statue has been commissioned by the US State Department for $50,000, it will be exhibited in public in London's Grosvenor Square; Niven fights to have the unveiling suppressed (on what basis--false advertising?). Alec Coppel's play "Chip, Chip, Chip" has become a shouting match on the screen. Niven argues with wife Virna Lisi, he shouts at US Ambassador to England Robert Vaughn, he's testy with advertising friend John Cleese, all the while dropping double entendres like bombs. Second-half of plot has Niven hoping to find the model who posed for the statue's torso, following his wife's male acquaintances into steam rooms and up mountain tops to get a look at their privates. It's supposed to be good dirty fun (with lots of bare breasts and bums), but nobody involved looks like they're having a high time. *1/2 from ****

There are so many worthy cult movies from the 1970s that I (among many others) wish were released on DVD, so I can't understand why this forgotten bomb was resurrected on the format. Although they say that there is no bad premise, just bad executions of premises, the premise of this particular simply doesn't seem promising. David Niven looking to find out what man's sex organ was modelled for his sculpture wife's statue? To me, that sounds both desperate and lame. And the actual execution doesn't suggest that anyone in front of or behind the camera was trying. Indeed, the premise is so thin that there are big chunks of the movie where it's very clear that NOTHING of significance is going on. Maybe that wouldn't matter if the movie was funny, but it simply isn't. The only thing about the movie that will stick in your head after watching it is the infectious song "Charlie", which is played several times during the course of the movie.

If there was any bit of me left that still respected Roger Ebert's reviews, after reading his scathing criticism of The Statue, that bit is gone. He admittedly walked out of the film, claiming it was one of the only films in his career he ever left mid-way, so how was he allowed to even write a review without its full context? He had to have some underlying personal issues that The Statue flared up; perhaps an old girlfriend made fun of his manhood once and he never got over it.

This movie is harmless. It's light, fluffy, and very funny. There's no reason, save immense mental problems, for anyone to walk out of this movie. In fact, I actually recommend it if you've had a long week and want to see something silly. David Niven stars as a world-famous Nobel Prize winner who has invented a universal language. His wife, Virna Lisi, is a sculptor. Her latest creation is a gigantic larger-than-life nude statue of her husband! He's mortified and refuses her to display it in public - until he takes a closer look and realizes the embarrassing part of the statue doesn't even belong to him. Off he goes with his pal Robert Vaughn to track down every man in his wife's little black book, sneak a peak at their privates, and find out if he's the inspiration behind the statue.

See what I mean? It's harmless, silly, and quite funny. From steam rooms to bathrooms, The Niv finds himself in one embarrassing situation after another. One that just about split my sides was when he had to make sure that he wasn't mistaken about what Niv Jr. Looked like: he snuck into a photo booth and flashed the camera for an inventive "selfie". For someone who acted in Wuthering Heights and Enchantment, it must have been beyond entertaining for him to show his raunchy side. I couldn't stop laughing, especially since I know what a playboy he was in real life. If you love The Niv, find out who took his place in The Statue.

Alex Coppel is best known for his marvellous screenplay to 'Captain's Paradise' and his 'contribution' to 'Vertigo'. By all accounts he wrote a play called 'Chip, chip, chip.' One wonders where it was staged, if at all and who was in it!

He and Denis Norden have adapted it for this film directed by someone named Rod Amateau, an ex-stunt double most of whose directorial work was confined to the wonderful world of television.

Professor Alex Bolt is shocked to discover that the penis on the eighteen foot statue done of him by his renowned sculptress wife which is about to go on public display is decidedly not his own. He then embarks on an odyssey to discover whose amazing appendage it is and consequently behaves like a perfect dick, if you'll pardon the pun.

The actual premiss of the film is amusing and it begins rather well but alas quickly degenerates into an infantile, puerile and embarassing mess with the occasional funny line.

The outraged husband is played by David Niven who didn't make a decent film post 1963. Cinema goers tend only to remember the good ones which is just as well but as always he is saved by his immense charm. Robert Vaughn convinces as a slimy, opportunistic politician and as the sculptress Virna Lisi's smoky voice makes this viewer go weak at the knees. John Cleese is his customary forced, one-dimensional self. Ann Bell is haughty but naughty as Niven's assistant.

A fellow reviewer has very astutely noted a possible connection between this plot and the infamous Argyll divorce case of the early 1960's. The identity of the 'headless man' in the incriminating polaroid has never been truly established. It certainly wasn't Niven but by an amazing coincidence he had slept with the future 'Dirty Duchess' of Argyll when she was just fifteen which resulted in a secretly and speedily aborted pregnancy and they remained good friends until his death. Messrs. Coppel and Norden may or may not have drawn inspiration from the high society scandal but if they did the irony would certainly not have been lost on Mr. Niven.

The ultimate absurdity is when Niven's character discovers that the offending part has been copied from Michelangelo's 'David'. Although one of the greatest works of Renaissance sculpture, its genitalia is, in my humble opinion, nothing to write home about!

All-in-all a rather silly film that comes up short!

Not as terrible as it's reputed to be, it's tedious rather than memorably bad; and at only 84 minutes feels a lot longer than it is. The script by Alex Coppel & Denis Norden (from the former's play 'Chip Chip Chip', and boy, does it feel like a play) unfolds like discarded scenes retrieved from Fellini's waste paper bin. Possibly inspired by the feverish speculation in the press as to the identity of the 'headless man' in the Polaroids produced in court during the Argyll divorce case in 1963, it's rather prescient of the routine photoshopping these days online of celebrities' heads on to the naked bodies of others.

The premise is also similar to Rouben Mamoulian's 'The Song of Songs' (1933). But the scandalous sculpture in that little gem was modelled by Marlene Dietrich and that film was a work of preCode sauciness whereas this is just another garrulous Italian sex comedy which aimlessly wanders about Europe while cameraman Piero Portalupi zooms back & forth between the cast and composer Riz Ortolani potters about on the soundtrack.

The Italian locations are obviously the reason why David Niven agreed to appear in this nonsense; while there are a several surprising British faces in supporting roles, including English Rose Suzanne Neve appearing topless, Hugh Burden & Eric Chitty as an elderly gay couple, two Pythons and a Goodie.