Mansfield embodies the greatest joke of all—her shameless Marilyn Monroe clone has a dress-up poodle at her side, a laugh that sounds like a bomb-dropping whistle and an all-encompassing ditziness (is she in on the joke or isn’t she?) that constantly catches you off guard. She’s this unabashedly crude movie’s bleached-blond heart and soul.
The movie seems revolted by American notions of success, but when some of the major characters finally renounce these ideas to follow their unglamorous dreams the movie seems to mock them... Still, when Tashlin acknowledges being implicated in what he's satirizing, he's good-natured and relaxed about it—making his populism and optimism as genuine as Marker's. Both directors have a charming way of being devastatingly critical, affectionate, and hopeful at the same time.