Ne mangez pas les marguerites

'Please Don't Eat the Daisies' is another Doris Day film that was seen recently as a quest to see all of her films not yet seen. After seeing it, 'Please Don't Eat the Daisies' is worth seeing, it is not quite as fresh as a daisy but sticking with it and seeing it grow is worth it.

Day has certainly done much better films, as has David Niven and Charles Walters, but Day has also done worse. 'Please Don't Eat the Daisies' at its best is delightful and doesn't try to do any more than necessary and be more than it is. Its reputation seems to be mixed to lukewarm, count me in as those who thinks it deserves better. It is certainly not without its faults.

Like in 'It Happened to Jane', and almost as badly, the children are badly cast, try far too hard to be cute and end up being so sugary cutesy it'll give one toothache and are at their worst rather obnoxious. The film does drag a little towards the end, as a result of trying to do a little too much, and a couple of scenes at this point are not placed as comfortably as they could have been.

Likewise with the otherwise pleasant songs, the title song coming off best. Once again Day sounds beautiful, musically and in an interpretative sense she's spot on and there is a lot of sincerity in her singing.

Day is a sheer delight in 'Please Don't Eat the Daisies' too. She is perky and charming with a naturally sparkling presence and deft comic timing. David Niven is debonair and urbane and the two gel so well and dazzle together. Niven is particularly good with Janis Paige however, which boast some hilarious moments. Great support from lively Janis Paige, ever scene-stealing Spring Byington and suitably stuffy Richard Haydn.

Charles Walters seems comfortable with the material, and handles it and the cast well and mostly handles the various subplots adeptly. There is a lot going on here with five subplots, the story could easily have been bloated but manages not to be and it's all done in a way that's fun and relatable.

Much of 'Please Don't Eat the Daisies' has a fast, snappy pace, only being bogged down towards the end. The script is easy to relate to, very funny in a light way and has a surprisingly sophisticated edge.

Visually it's all very colourful and stylish with exemplary use of CinemaScope, while the music has energy and nuance.

In conclusion, not perfect but a nice film that passes the time inoffensively, and is more than a just for completests film. 7/10 Bethany Cox

It took four sessions in front of the DVD player to get through watching PLEASE DON'T EAT THE DAISIES, about as bland a domestic comedy as I've ever watched. I'm a big Doris Day fan but this was the point in her career when she started making some family films that just didn't hit the mark.

The cast is certainly pleasant enough, but the theme of boys being boys is overdone after the first twenty minutes. David Niven has the patience of a saint to put up with the nonsense forced on him here. Neither he nor Doris are able to overcome the inadequacies of an uninspired script that turns out to be a hodge-podge of ideas left over from GEORGE WASHINGTON SLEPT HERE (about a house in the country) and MR. BLANDINGS BUILDS HIS DREAM HOUSE, self-explanatory.

To her credit, Day performs with natural ease throughout and even manages to toss off the vapid title song without losing her dignity. Best in support are Janis Paige as a sexy temptress who tries to lure Niven into her clutches and Richard Haydn who seems to be preparing for his subsequent role in THE SOUND OF MUSIC as a theatrical man who knows his way around a script.

None of it is very funny, even with Patsy Kelly as a housemaid. The fluffy dog, Hobo, has a genuinely funny scene or two and there's the youngest child kept in a cage who steals a couple of scenes without even trying. But all in all, this one taxes the patience of anyone who develops a bad case of deja vu, having seen it all before.

Summing up: Has the flavor of a TV situation comedy that goes on long beyond the half-hour mark. Banal best describes the weak script. The Jean Kerr book must have been mildly amusing.

A drama critic, his wife, and four sons move from sophisticated New York digs to community-centered suburbia. Naturally adjustment problems ensue.

All in all, this A-film is a disappointment. Drama critics are just not the stuff of comedies, nor does Niven get help in lightening the mood. Then too, since both stars were at career peaks, the screenplay expands their screen time with a lot of draggy exposition that doesn't help the amusement factor. And since the plight of Broadway critics is not exactly grist for popular audiences, I expect Day was added to provide the needed appeal. Trouble is she doesn't get to do her usual sparkle. It's a subdued role a dozen lesser names could have handled, and even her meager musical numbers are not exactly show stoppers. Moreover, director Walters seems unsure what to do with the bratty boys, who could have been milked for some laughs instead of too many groans. Still, the near two-hours does have its moments, especially with a cowardly canine, and Janis Paige (Deborah) whose ambitious vixen hits just the right notes. Anyhow, the chemistry never really gels and Day fans should stick with Rock who at least gets an honorable mention from the screenplay.

Although made in 1960, this classic sampling of Doris Day fluff is more a product of the 50s than the coming decade of the 60s. As ever, Miss Day is gorgeous and perfectly turned out, this time the mother of four small boys, an aspiring playwright overshadowed by her theater critic husband, coping with a series of domestic crises while she attempts to move her family from a city apartment to an improbably ramshackle English-style country house. 'Improbable' is indeed the word for the entire plot of this movie, but then probability was seldom the reason we went to the movies in the 50s. Bouyed along by the bright force of Miss Day's personality, the light touch and easy charm of David Niven, and ably supported by Janice Paige, Spring Byington, and Richard Haydn, this pic has all the bouncy sweetness and escapism her fans so appreciate in Miss Day's work. So, if you are looking for a 2-hour time trip to what seems like a kinder and gentler time, don't mind bumping your nose against a few cultural idiosyncrasies of the 50s (and no Day fan can avoid that), enjoy discovering some charming but forgotten musical numbers, appreciate really great vintage clothes, and generally believe it is hard for Miss Day to do any wrong, this seldom-mentioned film is just the ticket!

You're glad they made movies like "Please Don't Eat The Daisies" alright, simply to prove there was a time people were more innocent. Sitting through it is another matter.

The central problem with "Please Don't Eat The Daisies" as it stands today is that it suffers from a major case of indecision: Does it want to be about a theater critic who gets a big head, or does it want to be about a Manhattan mom with four sons who finds a new home in Westchester County? Doris Day stars doing what she does best, throwing off clever one-liners with a maternal glow, doing a little bit of singing, and standing by her man, in this case David Niven as theater critic Lawrence Mackay, who probably doesn't deserve her but as played by the winning Niven keeps our sympathies enough to make us happy he convinces her otherwise.

Mackay is quite taken by his new role as the Frank Rich of Mayor Wagner-era Broadway, but she's worried his becoming an influential quipmeister has made him mean, a candidate for a ride on the "down-a-lator" as expressed by a producer who used to be Mackay's friend until one of Mackay's catty reviews sundered their relationship. The producer, played by Richard Hadyn in much the same jaded manner he brought to his impresario role in "The Sound Of Music" five years later, accelerates Mackay's notoriety by having the starlet of his latest play, "Mme. Fantan," slap Mackay across the face for the benefit of a newspaper photographer after he disses her performance.

There's a great idea for a story here, about a critic coming up against the egos of himself and others, but unfortunately the result doesn't give Day much to do. Niven is neither unfaithful to her nor really all that nasty a critic. Instead of trying to make the story work better, which admittedly would risk running against the grain of a Doris Day comedy, the film throws in a subplot, about the couple and their four sons moving up the Hudson River to the bucolic suburb of Hooton and the resulting mild turmoil that causes. Thus, the entire second half of the film feels as awkwardly tacked on as the musical numbers Day performs in the final third of the programme.

It's all rather stupid, yes, but winsome, too, in that nice way that makes one nostalgic for the early 1960s. The scenery is attractively shot. The supporting actors are fun. Of the Day numbers, one, "Any Way The Wind Blows," is a terrific number with a busy bassline and some nice dipping harmonies that recalls Elvis Presley's "King Creole," fetchingly performed by Day and members of the cast as the "Hooton Holler Players." Never mind that groaner of a name, it's a good routine. The other number, the title song sung by Day and a merry band of children, should have been cut but for the fact it's a Doris Day movie and a drippy song with a kiddie chorus was what her audience wanted.

The same can be said for the whole movie. "Please Don't Eat The Daisies" is charming in a way films wouldn't dare be today. The dialogue is unnaturally whipsmart Neil-Simonesque, even when it's Day talking to one of her sons ("All he does is eat and sleep." "He's a dog. What d'ya want from him, blank verse?"). The youngest boy is clearly overdubbed by a woman with a cutesy voice, saying "Cokee Cola" as he drops water bags on people in a way that's supposed to suggest Tom Sawyer, not lawsuits. The dog jumps into Niven's arms at the sight of a squirrel, and he raises his magnificent eyebrows as only David Niven can at the idea of finding himself in a lightweight suburban farce.

Day makes you glad you stopped by, a suburbanite dream in her snug Capri slacks who finds the humor in every scene. Limited, yes, but very good in her genre, enough to make a film like this at least intermittently entertaining. She and Niven do play very well off each other. Like Michael E. Barrett wrote here in another review, the scene of them in the restaurant together after Niven has had his face slapped is a terrifically acted sequence, underplayed well by both stars.

Unfortunately, the rest of film doesn't rise to that same level of subtlety. Instead, she does her suburban mom thing while he plays the non-vicious critic with a vicious reputation, until at the end we are asked to pretend the twain come to meet and all is resolved. It doesn't, but the nicest thing to be said for "Please Don't Eat The Daisies" is that it's so genial it makes you willing to pretend otherwise.