Please don't eat the daisies
Please don't eat the daisiesi is mildly interesting as it depicts the maturing of the pantsuit cuckboi into an actual adult maleii at the possibly last point in Western history when such miracle occurediii.
Otherwise, the thing's befouled by the unwelcome presence of a singer and a "comedian"iv in lieu of the needed actors, not to mention a cheap vamp trying to cheaply be Marylin "but different" (and a cheaper still extra pretending like she's Liz the Whore -- which doth bring to mind just how fabulous a film this could've been, if it consisted instead of Robert Mitchum going to bed with a thirty-four year old Marylin and a twenty-eight year old Taylor. Now that'd be some porn I'd absolutely wish existed -- aren't you curious to see how'd snowballing'd work in their mouths, or for that matter who'd be teaching whom, and what ?) ; the fact that the housewife most obviously has had her three boys (all the same age) with three different men that absolutely aren't the import minnow she married is similarly sadly wasted -- would it have costv so very much to have three extras matching their hair colors exactly somewhere in the background, say a plumber, a milkman and a postman ?
But aside all that, the mother-in-law telling her daughter she may have grown out of it (maybe, the mother doesn't know), but she had been the dumbest child, as a factual matter ; and to her son-in-law that he should do naught but step on her face, she's the wife and the woman and the fucking point of life is exactly that, the more she's humiliated the better for everyone -- those entirely make the movie. The advice of that 12-year-old vaudeville star (meanwhile aged into gramahood), her great care to correctly build the trap for her own daughter ("go to her", she says, "it's too early yet", she says, "she's not emotionally invested enough in the matter yet", she says, "so it won't hurt her or break her nearly enough if sprung yet, just waste a perfectly good trap ; help her get more of her parts in the teeth, so she feels it right and proper when it goes off", she says), those totally make the movie.
Which otherwise isn't all that good -- but if you're perhaps curious how the otherbetter half lives...
- 1960, by Charles Walters, with Doris Day, David Niven, Patsy Kelly and I gues, if we must, Janis Paige. [↩]
- Though as belated as it could be, the dude being in his early 50s by all appearances. [↩]
- That'd be the early-mid (and somewhat idealised) 1950s depicted in this 1960 piece. You know, those 1950s nowadays reinterpreted as the "1950s household" BDSM trope. [↩]
- Though Niven is about as funny as any other chunk of British humour -- its entire substance consisting of sitting about a stiff and pretending like it were a parrot, from Norway, that's "pining for the fjords". Don't you find this funny ? I mean humour is the unexpected, yes, what could be more belabouredly "unexpected" than this ?! They tried so hard (after the given formula!) to be unexpected, why do you have it in for them ?!
By this regrettable "logic" should a lowly company of unemployed sailors followed around by a well used up whore missing most front teeth turn to referring to her as "The Princess of Bedford" is similarly "funny" after the British fashion, while five hungering hobos calling some shoe leather recently out of the kettle "merengue" is exactly the same ; if this ignare nonsense appeals to you, you can "laugh" loudly and "merrily" should anyone point out your confusion, and then "send them to Coventry" and so on.
Ultimately, British humour is not at all English but entirely Scottish, it was born when some tribal picts heard that there's marble in Rome not to mention baths, and slaves, and decided their native pine and local rubble can't be anything else nor anything worse (though perhaps better). Hence presbyterianism, and the covenanters, and William&Maryanne, and so on. Never was a small, poor and desperate people more abused or misfortunate for being set upon the Earth slightly South of some idiots, if you think about it -- and if they ever were, certainly the history of their misfortune never was as well recorded. [↩]
- As in the Spanish sense of the term, "me cuesta mucho no ser idiota". [↩]
