So here we have “Let’s Make Love", with Yves Montand showing Tony Curtis (see Some Like It Hot) exactly how to treat a peroxide blonde - no slagging off her snogging technique; a real stoopid accent instead of a fake one; and no attempt at all either to sing or to dance.
This gives director George Cukor an opportunity to give Bing Crosby, Gene Kelly and Milton Berle nice little cameo slots which have nothing to do with the plot, but hell, who cares about the plot anyway? The point about a Marilyn movie is the peroxide, the glamour, the sex-appeal. And of course, she does all that. She IS all that. That’s why she’s an icon, duh. And in “Let’s Make Love” she does her best. She pouts, shimmies, heaves her breasts and wiggles that glorious ass on its uneven heels. She flicks her fringe over her eyes, too.
But even Marilyn can’t overcome being dressed in a lumpy jumper and required to spend most of the film knitting. Knitting, ffsake? What on earth were they thinking of? Oh all right, she’s playing a Nice Girl who is So Virtuous that she can even resist Yves and his millions. That’s what the needles and wool are all about. She’s a Home Body, dumbo!
But of course when she’s performing in her tatty show, she’s so sexy that every man for 100 miles in any direction drops to his knees drooling with desire. At which point, she isn’t knitting.
But she’s always about to start knitting again at any minute because She Doesn’t Know She’s Sexy. Well, of course she does. I mean, really. Not in the film. I mean her and Frenchie... serious amounts of chemistry.
Oh and Tony Randall and Frankie Vaughan get to flirt with Miss Knitted Jumper, too. So although this isn’t one of MM’s best, it’s certainly better than twiddling your thumbs.