The Fuzzy Pink Nightgown
AN ordinary piece of feminine night clothing is a pretty flimsy excuse for putting together a long, long movie. At least that's the way it turns out in "The Fuzzy Pink Nightgown," which opened at a number of neighborhood theatres yesterday.
This happens to be the case even though the girl in the bedtime get-up is Jane Russell. Miss Russell, cast as a movie star who is abducted by a couple of good guys gone sour on the law, can keep the nightgown hanging properly. But she cannot disentangle herself from a smothering yarn that finds her in no time an accessory to her own kidnapping.
This baseless turnabout occurs for no better reason than the fact that Ralph Meeker, as one of the abductors, would really rather play house than gangster, and because Miss Russell, underneath the key garment, has a loving and lonely heart. Also muffled in this matted yarn is the amusing Keenan Wynn, who bluffs his way to a few laughs as Mr. Meeker's assistant.
As pointed out, it is no quick unraveling to the happy ending. There is a lot of talk about the emptiness of movie stardom and about the reason a swell pipe-smoking guy like Mr. Meeker pulled such a trick. Most of the talking, which in the script by Richard Alan Simmons is without point or humor, is done by Miss Russell. After all, pretty girls in fuzzy nightgowns should be seen and not heard. That goes for her kidnappers, too.
THE FUZZY PINK NIGHTGOWN. Screenplay by Richard Alan Simmons; based on a novel by Sylvia Tate; directed by Norman Taurog; produced by Robert Waterfield; a Russ-Field Production; released by United Artists. At neighborhood theatres.
Laurel Stevens . . . . . Jane Russell
Dandy . . . . . Keenan Wynn
Mike Valla . . . . . Ralph Meeker
Arthur Martin . . . . . Adolphe Menjou
Sergeant McBride . . . . . Fred Clarke
Bertha . . . . . Una Merkel
Daisy Parker . . . . . Benay Venuta
Barney Baylies . . . . . Robert H. Harris
Television Announcer . . . . . Bob Kelley
Disk Jockey . . . . . Dick Haynes
Flack . . . . . John Truax
Lieutenant Dempsey . . . . . Milton Frome
from The New York Times 31 October 1957