LastingAware The greatest movie ever!

ShangLuda Admirable film.

Sameer Callahan It really made me laugh, but for some moments I was tearing up because I could relate so much.

Phillipa Strong acting helps the film overcome an uncertain premise and create characters that hold our attention absolutely.

christopher-underwood Light-hearted and amusing tale where Martin gets Curtis to pretend he is a member of the FBI to cover up Leigh catching him kissing another girl. Yes, that's about it but its OK, Tony Curtis doesn't put himself out too much, Dean Martin is his usual cool self and coasts easily enough through the proceedings but it is the energetic and likable performance from Janet Leigh that surprises. Same year as Psycho!Worth seeing if you are a fan of any of the three stars. Nothing brilliant but never a dull moment.

Mike Conrad (conono) All this star power--what a waste. Doubtless in 1960 this seemed a passable comedy, even clever, and it didn't raise an eyebrow that a man's highest goal was to fool his wife into abject devotion so he could have "good home cooking" with "romance on the side" whenever he wanted.Dean Martin grates on contemporary taste in everything he ever did. Tony Curtis fares better and Janet Leigh suffers through a thankless role here. By all accounts Norman Krasna was an objectionable little man, out to wreak his revenge on women and on all the world for his own shortcomings. He earned his reputation as someone who could turn out scripts quickly and cheaply for notoriously rapacious producers. His style of 'humor' though simply hasn't aged well. Spare yourself this particular bit of painful and extremely unfunny misogyny.

hondo551 I was always a Dino fan, still am all these years later, and this film makes me wish he and Tony Curtis had made a couple more of these in the 60s. Conventional wisdom says the real talent in Martin and Lewis was Jerry, and the real talent in Some Like It Hot is Jack Lemmon and not Tony Curtis, but when these two straight men, or at least straighter men, get together, this story gets as wacky as any Hope and Crosby, Martin and Lewis, or Abbott and Costello vehicle. Both guys can be as charming as always and as goofy and funny as their other partners, with Dino running away with a little more of the comedy than Tony. This one is strictly a guy flick, a boy's club guilty pleasure about two friends conspiring to repair a marriage with a made up story of FBI agents and Russian spies and beautiful women, and just has to be funny, especially when the real FBI, James Whitmore and John McIntire, and the real KGB, Simon Oakland and Larry Storch, get wind of it and turn up. Throw in the ever lovely Janet Leigh as Tony's wife, and the pre-silicone/saline implant miracles of Barbara Nichols and Joi Lansing as two blond bimbos Dino wants help schmoozing, and this becomes every post-pubescent boys dream come true comedy of the 60s. It looks like so much fun that you have to believe these people weren't even working when they made it. And just when you think they can't go any farther or get more ridiculous, they set off to "sink" the Empire State Building. These guys could have gotten Kong down without a shot! Without apologies to anyone, I just loved this one!

Robert J. Maxwell "Who Was That Lady?" has no deep theme underlying the comedy, but neither do many of the best comedies. This one begins as it ends, with laughter. It's not belly laughs all the way through, but even the laughless parts consist of plot mechanisms that are per se at least amusing and serve as set-ups for later guffaws. There are moments when you'll feel as if you're about to split with laughter.A summary is in order, although it will sound silly. An assistant professor of chemistry at Columbia (Curtis, who lives with his wife, Janet Leigh) in a pad no assistant professor would allow himself to dream of, is caught being kissed by one of his students. Leigh enters his office at the wrong moment, turns on her heel and walks out to go home and begin packing. (All we see of this opening scene are the legs of the three participants.)A desperate Curtis calls his old pal Martin, a writer of TV mysteries, to help him figure out a way to keep his wife. Over drinks of lab alcohol Martin comes up with something like, "I've got it. You know why you were kissing that girl? Because you're a secret agent in the F.B.I. and she's a Russian spy." Curtis believes this is the dumbest story he's ever heard. But Martin pulls down the shades and locks the doors and tells him that he, Martin, is himself an F.B.I. agent, having been trained at Quantico while Curtis thought he was on duty in the Army. Martin even pulls off his sock and shows him four dots tattooed on his heel, the sure sign of a secret agent. "J. Edgar Hoover has five."Curtis is convinced. And Martin begins tattooing his heel with a pen and an electric fan. Queried by a still puzzled Curtis, Martin tells him, "Me? In the F.B.I.? I couldn't even get to be an eagle scout, you jackass." As far as the dots go, Martin doesn't know about Hoover but everybody in his fraternity at Cornell has them. I'm going to avoid going into this because it would spoil things. Suffice it to say that in order to convince Leigh that Curtis really is an F.B.I. agent, Martin goes to his prop department at CBS and has a fake F.B.I. ID card printed and requisitions a pistol. The F.B.I. gets wind of the fake card. So does the C.I.A. So do the Russians. In the end, a drugged Curtis and Martin wake up in the basement of the Empire State Building, believing they've been kidnapped and are aboard a Russian submarine. I swear I'm not making this up. They decide to sacrifice their lives and sink the submarine, which they attempt to do by hugging each other, then turning every valve and faucet in sight, pulling levers, releasing cascades of water, until they short out the electrical circuit of the Empire State Building.I'm going to leave it there, I think. It hasn't appeared much on TV lately, and that's the only reason I can think of why there aren't any previous comments on this hilarious comedy. Really, folks, it doesn't deserve to pass unseen. Everyone in it is at his/her comedic best. Even James Whitmore manages to evoke a sympathetic smile or two. And Barbara Nichols in a small but important role has never been funnier. In a Chinese nightclub, Martin and Curtis promise her a job on TV, a proposition which they argue should be discussed over the course of a weekend at the shore. Nichols excuses herself and phones her agent: "They're talking' about a job," she tells him, "but now they're throwin' in Atlantic City." She and Joi Lansing are the prey in this scene. "Get a load of the way these gals are assembled," Martin mutters to Curtis. And adds: "They sing and dance -- like rabbits."It's not sophisticated but when you come right down to it comedy doesn't really need elegance to be funny. Was Feydeau sophisticated? Was Aristophanes? Was Daffy Duck?