THERE’S A GIRL IN MY SOUP (1970)
After the
uncommercial dark comedy of HOFFMAN, Peter Sellers returned to mainstream box
office success with this feather-weight fun based on Terence Frisby’s stage
play and directed by Roy Boulting. It already had ‘form’ as a long-running smash hit in the West End
starring Donald Sinden and breaking theatre box office records
Sellers
whips up an easy soufflé of charm as Robert Danvers, a middle-aged wealthy
bachelor about town, high-profile celebrity gourmand and TV star of his own
cookery programme. He’s also an inveterate seducer of young women, only
interested in one-night stands and a simple goodbye the morning after. What
gives him appeal is his charm and a way with witty ripostes at deserving
targets. We see both qualities in action from the start as he attends a society
wedding, demurely batting away the photographers’ shifting of attention to him.
He surveys the bride lasciviously: “So
pure, so virginal..,” The reception guests are a dreadful assortment of
horsey Hooray-Henrys, whose snobbery he can’t resist puncturing. When one
condesdendingly asks him if he has a real job aside from his TV show, he
replies “I perform abortions, didn’t you
know?” Later, he gets the bride alone upstairs where we discover they had a
past relationship which he escaped from, as he ‘mounts’ a re-offensive and has
his way with her again on today of all days, melting her with a well-used line “My God, but you’re lovely…”. He even
beds a second lady, a very young lovely Gabrielle Drake the same night. This is
a man who is utterly confident in his prowess and carefree nature.
Danvers’
lifestyle is about to be challenged though, when he heads to a dull party with
his friend Andrew (TV comedy actor Tony Britton, a cosy counterpoint of
domestic happiness to Danvers). Instead of going in, he is distracted by Marion
(Goldie Hawn), a young American standing outside a much livelier party
downstairs. He likes what he sees and turns on the charm to take her back to
his place – and this is where things don’t quite go according to plan. Hawn is
marvellous at subverting the fluffy blonde stereotype she could play to
perfection in films and TV’s kooky LAUGH-IN. Here, instead of immediately going
to bed with Sellers, she returns his questions with the same, and
systematically de-constructs his seduction technique point by point, which
dampens his ardour and takes the vain wind out of his sails. As the scene plays
out though, we realise that her armour of world-weariness about men doesn’t
protect her from being routinely “passed
around” by her boyfriend. Danvers retires cock-blocked to bed, leaving
Marion alone and forlorn.
Against his
better judgement, the next day Danvers finds himself taking pity on Marion and
helping her move out of the flat shared with her boyfriend, a muso lothario
snug fit for Nicky Henson. It’s entertaining and revealing seeing the two men
vying for Hawn, with Henson hypocritically taking pot shots at Danvers’ motives
while the latter tries to ignore the age insults.
Marion and
Danvers embark on a whirlwind romance in France, helped by a cunning trick of
hers to ‘accidentally’ spill wedding confetti from her purse to gain them
preferential treatment at the hotel. Her naivete in other ways creates some
embarrassment though when she swallows instead of spits every glassful offered
to her at an upmarket wine tasting event, wrecking an expensive wine rack of
vintage bottles. Danvers is forced to carry her back to their room, along the
way attempting to give an autograph to an intrusive couple in the elevator with
Hawn fireman’s lifted over his shoulder. When the husband hopes his ‘daughter’
feel better soon, Danvers soothes his stung vanity by retorting: “It’s my son actually. I’m rather worried
about him”.
The couples’
dalliance has repercussions though when even back then, the paparazzi were in
force, snapping them dancing together honeymoon-style. On their return home,
they are besieged by speculative journalists asking when they were married –
and strenuous denials won’t wash when there’s a scoop to be had about this
famous bachelor finally becoming tamed. The tension rises even further when
Marion decides to return to the bad-boy rock musician. Uncharacteristically, Danvers suddenly
proposes marriage, violating his singleton ethics to keep her with him. Equally
out-of-character, it is Andrew who comes up with the modern idea of Marion
sharing herself with the two men, much to Danvers’ shock and eventual bemused
possible agreement. Marrion giggles out of the door, now in the power position
of choice herself, a rare comeuppance for Danvers. He is left bemused at the
turn of events and somewhat emasculated, until Andrew’s French au pair calls
and his seducer spark returns. He preens himself in the mirror, affirming ”My God, but you’re lovely…”
THERE’S A
GIRL IN MY SOUP is a harmless, fashionable and sweet dessert for Sellers (and
Hawn) fans, easy on the palate and featuring bonus cameos by Diana Dors as the
battle-axe apartment block owner’s wife and John Comer as her suffering
husband, as well as a blink-and-you’ll-miss-him intro cameo for Christopher
Cazenove.
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