If you were to play a drinking game in which a shot was taken every time a phallic reference was made, you’d be buzzed by the time Some Like it Hot gets to Florida and drunk by the time the gangsters show up. The innuendo isn’t always obvious but when mixed with plenty of double entendre and curvaceous antics, Some Like it Hot maintains a sense of sexual freedom rare for its time. From the cross-dressing of Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis to Marylin Monroe’s ultra-sultry yet hilarious defining of the “dumb blonde,” to Joe E. Brown’s surprising and unconditional love, Some Like it Hot somehow managed to skirt the rigid censors of its day to become one of the most beloved comedies of all time.
I can’t help but wonder what a film like Some Like it Hot might look like if it were made today. With many of the taboos of yesteryear long since lifted, would a contemporary version possess the same bite and wit? Would the Pavlovian sexuality of Monroe be noticed in a sea of oversexualized modernity? Would Curtis and Lemmon’s performances be considered passé or even offensive? It’s hard to say, but certainly, the punch of Billy Wilder’s comedy classic lies in the innuendo and censorship-skating vivaciousness of a film and its time. The freedom of a modern-day “R” rating couldn’t possibly make up for the near-perfect storm Wilder and company navigated back in 1959. In today’s film market, asinine vulgarity is often included as an appeal to short attention spans and the crass, with results usually lying somewhere between dumb and idiotic. Some Like it Hot is neither. It’s too smart to be vulgar and too funny to be asinine. Comedy writers take note.
How and why Curtis and Lemmon wind up dressed as women, members of an all-girl band, and in the company of Marilyn Monroe is as unimportant as it is contrived (if you must know, they’re on the run from mobsters after witnessing a gangland execution). What is important is that we find ourselves along for the ride in the middle of their crazy situation. These two womanizing musicians are suddenly forced into a place where their usual charming tactics are useless and must fend for themselves in a world as alien to them as the moon. If their cover is blown, it could mean their lives. Naturally, things are made much more complicated with the appearance of one of the most beautiful women to have ever lived.
Lemmon and Curtis are great in their roles as Jerry/Daphne and Joe/Josephine but without Monroe, there is no picture. It’s possible some other blonde could have read the lines, but its Monroe’s magnetism that sells the role. The results speak for themselves regardless of the legendary headaches she may have caused on set. Sugar Kane may be a ditz, but Monroe gives one of the smartest comedic performances of any era with impeccable timing and sympathy. It sure is hard to care how difficult she was to work with when watching her on that screen. Just watch her steal every scene she’s in.
Monroe might run away with it but that’s not to say the rest of the cast doesn’t deliver. Lemmon and Curtis – with their gaudy make-up and ill-fitting clothing – walk a fine line between brilliance and grotesque while somehow managing to remain credibly “female.” To us, they are very clearly men, but the ruse is believable due to their character’s dedication to raw self-preservation and the actor’s willingness to go over the top without falling off the edge. It’s a sight to be seen, as they each take their roles into hilarious and unexpected territories that culminate in the kind of wackiness that could never work without the intelligence of the actors and the mastery of the screenwriters.
A movie is only as good as its script and the one Wilder penned – along with frequent collaborator I.A.L. Diamond – is one for the ages. For a film so packed full of words, there is absolutely no wasted space and no throwaway lines. Some Like it Hot is written so tightly and so succinctly that every minute is used to its fullest extent and to maximum effect. It’s a difficult task, especially considering the non-stop sexual innuendo and subtext that comes with a film about a couple of horn-dogs dressed as women. The final act may descend into a bit sloppier slapstick than I’d prefer, but when Joe E. Brown delivers the final line of the film (one of the most memorable I can think of), it all goes away as we watch that dopey grin of his.
United States • 1959 • 121 minutes • Black & White • 1.85:1 • English • Spine #950
Criterion Special Features Include
- New 4K digital restoration, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray
- Audio commentary from 1989 featuring film scholar Howard Suber
- New short program on Orry-Kelly’s costumes for the film, featuring costume designer and historian Deborah Nadoolman Landis and costume historian and archivist Larry McQueen
- Three behind-the-scenes documentaries
- Appearances by director Billy Wilder on The Dick Cavett Show from 1982
- Conversation from 2001 between actor Tony Curtis and film critic Leonard Maltin
- French television interview from 1988 with actor Jack Lemmon
- Radio interview from 1955 with actor Marilyn Monroe
- Trailer
- English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
- PLUS: An essay by author Sam Wasson
James is a writer, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.