Perfect posture and great bodies dominate in this oddball Tony Curtis comedy. Just about everyone in these reels of celluloid has a superb physique: Claudia Cardinale, Sharon Tate, and even the muscle men pumping iron on the beach. Hard to believe fact: this movie was based on a novel! Some of the bloated beach bums must have stumbled in from a "method" acting class. The leader savors every line of dialog as if it was Milton or Shakespeare. Weird. The setting is radiant to the eye. The special effects people deserve a gold metal for delivering some of the most realistic shots, up to that time, of the ground cracking open and an upscale villa sliding and tumbling down a steep embankment and into the surf. Impressive. It's sad to see Sharon Tate--so young and pretty--just three years before the Manson Gang got their hands on her. Miss Tate's character is skilled in many physical pursuits: trampoline and skydiving included. In one improbable scene, she saves Tony Curtis, James Bond-like, by strapping herself to the free-falling con-man. Miss Cardinale has the curves to match her rival, but she is straddled with shrill dialog and a cranky demeanor. Jim Backus plays himself and performs his "Mister Magoo" routine. I think the movie works so well because it perfectly captures the Southern California scene at a time when many things were changing--and not always for the best. The mid-sixties was the last gasp of a more innocent time and cinema. View after midnight--it rocks.
Review of Don't Make Waves
