Very very predictable, including the post credit scene !!!

If the ambition is to provide two hours of instantly forgettable, popcorn-munching escapism, it succeeds.

A film with more than the usual spoiler issues. Talking about it in any detail feels akin to handing you a gift-wrapped present and saying, "I hope you like it -- It's a thriller about a diabolical secret experiment."

It’s fine. It's literally the definition of a fine movie. You’ve seen it before, you know every beat and outcome before the characters even do. Only question is how much escapism you’re looking for.

An ambitious jazz musician tries to make it in The Big Apple despite hardships. Meanwhile he befriends a desperate taxi dancer trying to hold on to her self-respect.The 105-minutes amounts to a sour valentine to New York City. The ending is predictable from the start. Why else cast two big Hollywood stars in the leads. The fact that Peggy (Reynolds) and Pete (Curtis) finally get together is not because of the City, as we might expect, but in spite of it. Thus the screenplay breaks with Hollywood convention of big cities with a soft heart. Note, for example, how the landlady's morning grouch gets quickly reflected in other grouchy New Yorkers.. That sort of uncompromising attitude may be the movie's best part. Otherwise, it's Reynolds breaking with her malt shop image, as a hard case who registers zero smiles throughout. At the same time, the effort to break with the Tammy image (Tammy And The Bachelor, {1957}) is too pointed and resolute to be convincing. Curtis, on the other hand, is fairly amiable, and not quite as miscast as Reynolds. Still, his Bronx accent sort of comes and goes for a guy supposedly from Milwaukee. Having two stars at the peak of popularity also means giving them adequate screen time to satisfy their fans. But that also means padding a slender storyline with lots of talk that too often drags out the runtime. Note too, how awkwardly the script plays with the key topic of prostitution, a word or even concept that dare not speak its name, thanks to the suffocating Production Code. Anyway, Oakie and Medford supply subtle amusement, while Rickles chews the scenery like he's starving for attention. All in all, it's a 105-minutes that doesn't wear well, despite being cutting edge at the time. All in all, I'm glad that Reynolds soon went back to the personality roles she was so good at.

The Rat Race (1960)Maybe this will help: Tony Curtis is himself, really strong, and if you like him, you'll like him. Debbie Reynolds is kind of at her best, for me, less trivial than she is sometimes portrayed. She doesn't dance or sing, but is just a girl trying to make it in New York. Throw in Don Rickles at an exaggerated but believable role, with less humor and more grotesqueness. Finally, though big sax man Gerry Mulligan gets big letters in the credits, he appears, as himself, only briefly (though we do get to hear him play for a few seconds).But let's turn this around and talk plot. In a very broad way, this is a kind of "Breakfast at Tiffany's" a year earlier. Nice guy lands in New York without a clue and local woman is braving it on her own and having to compromise her principles in the process. Even the music, by Elmer Bernstein, is in a Henry Mancini style (only rarely dipping into any real jazz, for those looking for that). Though painted as a story of boy meets girl and the improbable follows the unlikely, the basic premise is heartwarming and true to a lot of our dreams of making it, and making it with the right person (both).I liked this movie a lot. It's even photographed by Alfred Hitchcock's cinematographer, Robert Burks, and so it looks good, too, in mildly widescreen Technicolor. It's a situation drama/comedy--there is no sensing that this is actually real. In that sense it's really a 1960 era movie, when artifice had reached a truly plastic kind of height (sometimes with wonderful results, but even classics like, say, "West Side Story" have a style from the times that is neither classic 1940s Hollywood in its believability nor totally creative invention as with those rare movies here and there all through the decades). The point is, you have to like this kind of set-up style to start with. You probably know whether movies like some of the Doris Day classics or even Marilyn Monroe movies are up your alley. Or "Breakfast at Tiffany's," or the black and white counterpart in a different sense, "The Apartment." I think this Curtis/Reynolds romantic comedy is totally overlooked, and deserves a close look. There are ever some fabulous if fleeting shots of busy New York City. And if you've never heard of the director, Robert Mulligan (no relation to Gerry), don't worry. He did pull off one all time classic handled with similar panache--"To Kill a Mockingbird." Yeah, don't underestimate this one.

Why the producers decided to cast New Yorker Tony Curtis in the film, I just can't understand. Why would they cast him of all people considering he is supposed to be playing a guy from Milwaukee who gets lost in the big bad city of New York? With his very strong New York accent, it just didn't make sense. Listening to him, he sounded like he should have been perfectly at home in the Bronx or Brooklyn! Fortunately, the rest of the movie is so good that I really didn't mind the odd casting. In fact, Tony Curtis and Debbie Reynolds were excellent in the film--with acting and dialog that seemed pretty realistic. They both play "starving artists" who come to New York but find success is somehow always out of sight. I teach at an art school and would like to show this to my students so they can, perhaps, see what it usually is like on the slow road to making a living.I also appreciated how the writers didn't allow the film to slide too far into sentimentality even though this was a romantic-comedy of sorts. That means when there can be a magical scene where things all work out perfectly, the writers chose instead to allow for a more realistic moment where things worked out,...somewhat. My favorite example was near the end when it appeared that Curtis' musical instruments unexpectedly re-appeared. This LOOKS like a "happily ever after moment" but there is a great twist--a twist that reminds us that in this film, just like in real life, Murphy's Law so often applies. To me, the real magic in the film is how despite all these setbacks and problems, the couple STILL manage to find each other and some shred of happiness. And, if you think about it, this is a great lesson for everyone.A nice, romantic, funny but occasionally sad and cynical little film about life and little people.By the way, look for Don Rickles in one of his earliest roles. He plays a guy who is amazingly creepy and cruel--quite a change from his later comedic roles. Also, the sweet guy behind the bar is Jack Oakie in one of his later roles

If Garson Kanin's stage version were successful enough to earn a movie treatment by producers Perlberg and Seaton, whose adaptation of Clifford Odets's "The Country Girl" is famously exquisite, one can only assume that the play was more honest and less preposterously disingenuous than this laughable adaptation.Written by Kanin himself, who must have swallowed a fair amount of bile at the bowdlerizing mandated by the Hollywood Production Code, the film addresses its central question, which appears to be whether "dance hall girl" Debbie Reynolds (!) is or isn't a prostitute, with pages and pages of jaw-droppingly elliptical dialogue that bears no resemblance to human speech -- lines on the order of, "I'd never think you'd...you know..." and "How could you think I'm the kind of girl you think I am?" Those are not necessarily exact quotes, but you get the idea.The film is sunk by other equally bizarre choices at every turn, including not only the female lead's spectacular miscasting but her co-star's as well. Presenting Tony Curtis as a Midwestern naif being conned by heartless Manhattanites produces such howlingly funny utterances as "And on my foist day in New Yawk!" '30s Paramount comedy star Jack Oakie and Kay Medford, Dick Van Dyke's mother in the stage version of "Bye, Bye, Birdie," comprise a kind of greasy-spoon Greek chorus, a bartender and his only barfly, Reynolds's landlady, whom we first meet sitting at the bar drinking orange soda! In this Times Square saloon which, like many other sets in the film, reveals the art director's painful fascination with red walls, there is more mugging going on than in Central Park.But all of this is topped by the grotesquely overwrought, bug-eyed and nostril-flaring performance of Don Rickles, who quickly demonstrates why he found his true calling in standup rather than film acting. You're better off reading the play, but only reading it, because no impresario has the bad taste to mount a revival of it any more.