schell-7 Marilyn lights up every scene in which she's not engulfed by the large frame of Montand. She's no less captivating in "Let's Make Love" then she is in "Gentlemen Marry Blondes" when she descends an artificial staircase buttressed by two other leggy actresses who can't for a moment take our gaze away from Marilyn.Nevertheless, the film feels awkward and slow, with a jolting, herky-jerky movement from from one scene to the next. Part of the unease is due to the feminist responses--some, like Gloria Steinem's, in book-length form--that attempt to portray Marilyn as a victim, created and manipulated by the machinery and machinations of a patriarchal Hollywood system. No matter than the autonomous energy and power that Marilyn radiates in every scene give the lie to the notion that she was used and abused as a puppet responding to the strings of her male masters. There was only one Marilyn--whether seen as the essence of glamour and sexiness--or the big screen's brightest female comedienne.It's Marilyn who has power over us, demanding and commanding our gaze, more than any of her "handlers" had control of her. But her talent is based on far more than looks and choreography. The sound of her voice is at one moment "breathy" and the next (especially during her singing) full of ringing overtones, like the 1000 bells that Frank Capra attributed to the speaking voice of Jean Arthur. So enough of the feminist criticisms of this film for enacting the "entrapment" of Marilyn that she was alleged to experience off-screen. Her free spirit resists containment, despite the many attempts of academic minds to wrap their book covers around it.The failures of the film are not the fault of Montand, who can't help it if his large physical size accompanied by undeniable talent, charm and grace, are simply not "right" for the part he's been asked to play. Of the male co-stars originally proposed for the role--Gregory Peck, Gary Cooper, James Stewart, Cary Grant, Rock Hudson--Stewart is the one for whom the only objection might be his age. An extraordinary (if underrated) actor--with unlimited range--by 1960 Stewart was no longer George Bailey (from "It's a Wonderful Life") or even Scottie (from "Vertigo"). But the major problem with the film is it's sheer scale. The producers seemed so enamored of the period's technology--super-Cinemascope plus high-fidelity, multi-track film--that neglected more important elements like story, character development and a film score.On my television screen, the blown-up images threaten to crop out Tony Randall's image in every scene. Like the story, Hollywood's cutting-edge technology creates images that are to simply overblown, or inflated, to create any "suspension of disbelief" experienced by the viewer. Even the length of the project--2 hours--is twice, maybe 4 times, the time needed to tell and "sell" this one-idea story, which could have easily been done in a 30-minute sit-com.Nevertheless, all of the reported off-screen problems-- with writers, directors, stars, labor strikes, make-up artists and costume designers--would have meant nothing to anybody--if the picture and been an instant commercial success. Advice: don't read anything more about this movie. Instead, just watch the film. Or just watch Marilyn.(Addendum: Today the words "make love" have acquired a much more specific meaning--practically a euphemism for "the act itself"--than was the case in 1960. Up until 1968 "making love" referred to nothing more than cuddling and kissing. So lighten up and enjoy the vital, unique talent of the screen's inimitable siren, Marilyn.)

James Hitchcock During my schooldays I once wrote an essay on Chaucer in which I stated that the Wife of Bath "liked to make love to lots of different men". This was returned to me by my teacher with the comment in red ink "Making love does not mean this! If you mean having sexual intercourse, why not say so!" I was baffled until my father explained that to the older generation (and my teacher must have been born around 1910) the phrase "to make love" meant simply to kiss, cuddle and whisper sweet nothings. It did not mean to have sex. Which explains why it was, as late as 1960, possible to make a film called "Let's Make Love" without it being banned by the censor as pornographic. (It also explains why Doris Day could include the line "Make love to me!" in the song "Move Over, Darling" without losing her "good girl" reputation). The film stars Marilyn Monroe and essentially inverts the plot of one of her earlier films, "How to Marry a Millionaire". In that film Marilyn plays a gold-digger whose ambition is to marry a wealthy man but who ends up marrying for love. In "Let's Make Love" her character, Amanda Dell, is a free-thinking idealist who despises the idea of marrying for money but who ends up with a billionaire. There are also similarities to the plot of "The French Line", which starred Marilyn's close friend Jane Russell, although in that film the sex roles are reversed; it is the woman who wants a man who will love her for herself, not her money, and therefore keeps her wealth a secret. In both films the man is French and the woman American. In the original script the billionaire was to have been an American and several actors, from Gary Cooper to Charlton Heston, were canvassed for the part. Gregory Peck was cast at one time, but later dropped out. Eventually the film-makers decided to make him a Frenchman, Jean-Marc Clement, and Yves Montand was chosen to play the role. (Cyd Charisse was originally slated to play Amanda before Monroe was cast). The plot involves Clement learning that he is to be satirised in an off- Broadway revue and going along to the theatre to find out more. By a misunderstanding, the director assumes that he is an actor who has come to audition for a part, and Clement ends up playing himself in the revue. He does not, however, enlighten anyone as to his true identity, as he has fallen in love with Amanda, a beautiful young actress appearing in the same show. Because he wants to be loved for himself and not for his money, and because he quickly realises that Amanda is not interested in wealth, he decides to woo her under an assumed name. This was to be Marilyn's penultimate film before her death. (Her last was to be "The Misfits"). She did not have a high opinion of it, having only accepted the role in order to fulfil a contractual obligation to 20th Century Fox, and described it as "the worst in her career". Her husband Arthur Miller was similarly critical, even though he had contributed towards the script. Certainly, it has its weaknesses. Montand was capable of projecting great charm and personality, but he was not a fluent English speaker and his heavy accent sometimes makes his lines difficult to understand. Yet the film also has its strengths, and some of these lie in the areas where Marilyn and her husband made their contributions. The script is elegant and witty, although I cannot say how much of this is due to Miller and how much to the original scriptwriter Norman Krasna. Moreover, a lot of the success of "Let's Make Love" is down to Marilyn's performance. She was one of those fortunate few who seemed to get more attractive as she got older (the late Princess Diana was another), and by 1960 the ordinarily pretty girl of the early part of her career had blossomed into a genuinely beautiful woman. Yet she had done so without losing the ability to convey an innocent girl-next-door charm, which in this film is an important part of Amanda's personality. The more sensuous Charisse, a great beauty and a brilliant dancer but a mediocre actress, could never have done that so well. There are also good contributions from Tony Randall and Wilfrid Hyde-White as two of Clement's employees, and Bing Crosby, Gene Kelly and the comedian Milton Berle as themselves. (They are hired by Clement to teach him some of the tricks of showbiz). In its day "Let's Make Love" possibly seemed rather conservative, a romantic comedy from the sixties which was not too different from the sort of thing Hollywood was doing in the forties or even (apart from the use of colour) in the thirties. This may explain why contemporary reviews were mixed and it was not a great box office success, certainly not when compared to most other films starring Monroe. (Her previous film, "Some Like It Hot", for example, had been a smash hit). Over the next decade styles of film-making were to change enormously; by 1965 a film like this would have been deeply unfashionable and by 1970 virtually inconceivable. Yet today I think we can appreciate the film for what it is, a sophisticated and amusing rom-com from a particular era in cinema history. 7/10

elisedfr The story of Jean-Marc Clement and his pretty chorus girl is so widely hated and depreciated among the critics I always get surprised when I find myself enjoying it. Sure it's overlong, from a good half an hour, sometimes dull and never truly believable: why they kept the introduction sequence is a mystery. Also, as often with musicals of this era, the camera practically never moves.Still, there are noticeable good points: the score makes for a pleasant listening, from the classic Cole Porter 's"My Heart Belongs to Daddy" (the only number really well staged) to the romantic, jazzy themes "Let's Make Love", and "Incurably Romantic". Marilyn sings and dances with her own soulful abandon, and as an actress, she will only disappoint those who do not like her at all. I, a fan, thought she was right on my money. There is true charm in her portrayal of Amanda, an everyday beauty queen who knits between sexy numbers, good comic timing too -although she overacts a bit the final scenes. And with her pale blonde hair and tired gaze, she looks almost younger than in the 50's. Some biographical allusions -like the night school- and the fact she's supposed to be an happy-go-lucky, "at home wherever she goes" make sit ultimately poignant. As for Montand, in charge of a difficult task after Gregory Peck and James Stewart had said "no", he looks surprisingly at ease. Apart from the heavy french accent, his approach of the Clement character is cleverly unexpected : while everyone thinks of him as an icy, pompous businessman crossed with a self-assured playboy, Clement appears as always charming and suave, exceedingly polite, widely smiling and very stiffly dressed. As a result, it makes impossible for the viewer not to go for him -specially as once he poses as a struggling extra, he gets humiliating indifference and mockery from everyone. The trouble is the story becomes much less believable and a bit confusing : and while you care for the billionaire, you never get to understand him or the life he leads. The chemistry between the two stars is fine yet it never sparkles, much because of the script which until the very end imposes misunderstanding and a one-way relationship. The supporting cast is less reliable, from dazzling to forgettable. Theatre people have not much soul, although they're supposed to be the good guys : directors spend their time screaming, there's a mean blonde dancer and Frankie Vaughan, as the whining crooner, is no match for Monroe. On the other hand, Wilfrid Hyde-White is pleasant in a prototype for his Col. Pickering of "My Fair Lady". And young Tony Randall frankly excellent as the public relations man who gets disgusted by his boss's frivolity. Long before I got to love Randall as Felix Ungar, I thought he gave the subtlest performance of the movie. It's too bad that after a definite part in the first hour, his likable character stands aback in the shade with Hyde- White, to watch the seduction going on. One gets the feeling he had scenes cut or else added in the course of the film. Of course, one has to mention the three guest-stars that make most of the life in the middle dragging part, during which Clement learns how to be an artist. It turns out the shorter the appearance, the better it is and Gene Kelly is truly priceless in the one little scene he waltzes with Yves Montand. Bing Crosby and Milton Berle are nice too but the latter remains too long on the show.The script, which suffered many rewrites before and during the shooting is an odd mixture, including moving monologues by Arthur Miller (who, complained Peck, wanted badly to extent Marilyn's part), classic comedy stuff, good one-liners and awkward gags: the Elvis Presley satire comes from a long way. The charm and tenderness of some sequences does not work so well with the mechanical farce going around, leaving the general feeling of an of- balance movie. George Cukor was not the ideal musical director and he fails to reconcile human comedy and singing lavishness - although he would score a triumph a few years later with "My Fair Lady", but then the script was of better quality. One may wonder what "Let's Make Love" would have been, with sharper writing and wiser editing. But there's enough good to contradict the severe critics, as long as Monroe, Randall and sometimes Montand are around. So forget the faults. Enjoy the stars.

wurliguy I understand well, what this film is supposed to be BUT, This film is horrible. Marilyn Monroe looks terrible, her body is pink, but her face is caked with white makeup, it looks like she is wearing a mask. Also, her face is all puffy. She seems to be sleepwalking through the whole movie. The production values are missing, ex. the writing is the worst, also poor lighting, framing, the musical numbers are lifeless, the directing and acting is poor, I guess George Cukor was getting too old and tired, and couldn't get the actors to give their best. I think the main problem is that the material was just too poor to make anything worthwhile out of it. To really see Marilyn at her best and check out that dress she wears, WOW! watch SOME LIKE IT HOT!