Getting their wires crossed over an antediluvian shared telephone party line, Jan Morrow (Day), a self-sufficient interior decorator in NYC, and Brad Allen (Hudson), a rakish Broadway tunesmith, start off on the wrong foot, but audience can unbiasedly fighter Jan's corner, as Brad the womanizer incessantly woos his numberless conquests by hogging the said line, much to Jan's annoyance and vexation.
Never met before in person, Jan and Brad share a common friend, the kooky millionaire Jonathan Forbes (Randall), who is Jan's client and relentless suitor, also Brad's college mate and benefactor in Broadway. Chances are when Brad comes across Jan in a nightclub , he is struck by coup de foudre, introducing himself as a Texan cowboy Rex Stetson, his personable gallantry and mock down-home simplicity reciprocally sweeps Jan off her feet. The pair continues their rendezvous as audiencely and amusingly awaits for the inevitable, when someone blows the lid off Brad's white lie.
Despite Jonathan susses out Brad's subterfuge halfway through, the script (inconceivably winning an Oscar over plummy competitions like THE 400 BLOWS, WILD STRAWBERRIES and NORTH BY NORTHWEST) cunningly offers Brad an upper hand, and lets Jan finds out the connection between Rex and Brad in her own sweet time, just when their romance hits an intimate high note!
We are all fairly au fait with the topos, after that, it is Brad's turn to mend the fences, after fraternizing with Jan's tippled housekeeper Alma ( an always brilliant Ritter) for advise, it is very much down to a virile act to overtake Jan's displeasure and win her back, even if it involves some dishabille in the public area.
Michael Gordon's PILLOW TALK is a class act of Hollywood rom-com, adopts a chicly bright palette, and puts split-screen gimmicks into good use, despite being ineluctably tainted by the gender stereotypes of its time, Jan's single status is disparaged and teased even though she is a successful woman conducting her life on her own terms. But by establishing Jan as a sophisticated object of desire, who can not only elegantly dismiss Jonathan's gift of a brand new automobile, but also maternally staves off the heavy petting from a college stripling (a libidinous Adams), the film vouchsafes Day a much elevated role, a modern woman who is almost too perfect to exist in the real world, and considering it is Day's only Oscar-nominated performance, her oozing star charisma is rather hard to resist.
In comparison, Hudson is equally, if not more, apposite and captivating in characterizing Brad's duo personae, nailing the southern accent and is earnest in his affection and discombobulation, even in the face of the covertly self-referential limp-wristed jest (slightly offensive nonetheless), and the running gags of Brad being mistaken as a woman trapped inside a man's body, he is totally on the ball with a superb air of relaxedness that is disarmingly requisite for a romantic leading character, not to mention the chemistry between him and Day simply and miraculously works!
Also getting himself into gear is Randall's supporting turn as Jonathan, who holds his own with a heady mixture of faux-gormlessness and wiles, that he is more than a one-note buffoon is so relishable and no wonder, him, Day and Hudson would make two more films together, the more the merrier!
referential entries: Michael Gordon's CYRANO DE BERGERAC (1950, 7.4/10); Delbert Mann's THAT TOUCH OF MINK (1962, 6.6/10).
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