A Estátua

Embarrassing below-the-belt comedy marks a career low point for the usually sophisticated David Niven. Film gets a 3/10 instead of 1 only for John Cleese's scenes (which are few and far between) as a reluctant psychiatrist, plus for brief nudity by Ann Bell.

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.

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 ****

David Niven's career hit rock bottom when he signed on to do The Statue. For a man whose name on the screen stood for charm and sophistication what was Niven thinking when he signed for this?

Niven plays a Nobel Prize winner whose wife Virna Lisi is a sculptress and has done a larger than life statue of him. However she's given him some enhanced privates obviously inspired elsewhere and Niven spends the whole film looking for the inspiration.

David Niven has uplifted more films than any other actor by dint of his personality. But this one is just too heavy a lift. It's got all the element of a stag film without the prurient interest that would make one watch.

God only knows what Niven was thinking.

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.