The Seven Year Itch (Billy Wilder / U.S., 1955):

The joke is the Teutonic gaze, here's The Woman in the Window in color and CinemaScope. "When something itches, my dear sir, the natural tendency is to scratch." Manhattan affairs, an indigenous art, one specimen conducts a running commentary on temptation. The case of the publishing executive (Tom Ewell), happily married until the missus (Evelyn Keyes) is away and he turns "summer bachelor" plagued by fantasies. (Lateral pans and dissolves launch views of secretaries and nurses and hayrides, for the benefit of Meyer.) The tomato from upstairs comes crashing down, that is, the bombshell (Marilyn Monroe) who poses for "artistic pictures" and toothpaste commercials while wondering about Sarah Bernhardt. Of Man and the Unconscious is the manuscript at hand, its author (Oskar Homolka) twinkles through a monocle: "At fifty dollars an hour, all my cases interest me." The lecherous mind handsomely splayed, courtesy of Billy Wilder and George Axelrod and the Muse with panties in the icebox. The Girl is a sweet emanation, as guileless as Lulu, dipping potato chips in champagne and alive to the sad romance in Creature from the Black Lagoon. (From Here to Eternity and The Picture of Dorian Gray also turn up, Riot in Cell Block 11 is mentioned for the New York housing situation.) Finger in the bottle, toe in the faucet, milk between the legs. "You and your imagination!" The replete analysis of the Monroe mystique still leaves room for such virtuosos as Robert Strauss' vortex of muggy leers, Donald MacBride's aria for extramarital pleasures and Doro Merande's urgent plea for nudism. "Cinnamon toast for two, strange blonde in the shower. Explain that." Truffaut on the Cahiers pages seizes the use of Rachmaninoff for a slam on Brief Encounter, Rohmer provides a more knowing review with L'Amour l'après-midi. With Sonny Tufts, Marguerite Chapman, Victor Moore, Dolores Rosedale, and Carolyn Jones.

--- Fernando F. Croce

Back to Reviews
Back Home