Frank Tashlin used to be a cartoonist and it shows. A good deal of exploration of exaggerated effects has gone on since 1956 but Tashlin was one of the originals. Jayne Mansfield was used in his previous effort, "Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?", and I do mean "used", in the same manner as here.
As a judge once said about Jane Russell's appearance in the controversial "The Outlaw," her bosom spreads out over the film like a thunderstorm over a landscape. Milk bottles pop open and ejaculate their contents as she wobbles down the street with a waist so tiny I could circle it with both hands. She looks not so much like an hourglass as like a figure eight. She asks Tom Ewell if he thinks she's "equipped for motherhood" while leaning over the table in front of him wearing a low-cut dress and pressing to milk containers against her chest. Through an exercise of supreme will power, Ewell keeps his eyes locked unblinkingly on hers, nods, and replies, "Yessss." (She might have provided the model for the female figure in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit.")
It isn't nearly as funny as "Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?", although it's still pretty funny. The gags aren't quite up to the earlier one, and there are fewer of them, and the story is thinner than before.
To make up for this, I suppose, the movie is padded out with contemporary rock and roll presentations. I was never a fan of the genre so I can't comment much on the acts themselves except to say that the only ones worth watching or listening to were Fats Domino and Little Richard. I take the point of presenting the other acts as parody. Most of them are amusing if they are seen as Elvis Presley imitators. Was popular music like this ever popular? "She's a cinnamon sinner, telling lollipop lies"? Did people listen to this crap? The last act we see -- some guy with his eyes squeezed shut, his face an agonized grimace, fists clenched next to his ears, in a transport of ecstasy, barely able to articulate his "Oh-oh-oh-ohhh"s is frankly hilarious.
Julie London, on the other hand, gives us a smoky ballad, "Cry Me a River," that was immensely popular. The day I saw this movie as an adolescent, I had just bought her album and run into the actor Thomas Gomez at Enrico's in San Francisco. He knew Julie London and we spent an hour going over her personality and demeanor in detail. I lapped up every datum because I was deeply in love with her at the time. Oh, sure, I know I was naive. My taste since then has matured and I've moved on to the adoration of less dated, less artificial figures, like Madonna. But I thought then, and still think, this is pretty amusing, as long as you don't have to watch it more than once a year.