The son of a long-established family firm of gunsmiths in Victorian London (Kenneth More) decides to look for new business in the American west. In the remote desert outpost of Fractured Jaw, he wins respect through his own invention of a miniature wrist-mounted pistol, and is declared local sheriff - a job nobody else has dared to accept, because of two violent local gangs. Against advice, he sells rifles to the Indians, who make him a blood-brother, and help him to keep the peace, to the amazement of everyone, including the sassy hotel-keeper (Jayne Mansfield), who becomes intrigued by this unlikely arrival in town.
The film has been declared Jayne's career-summit. Unfortunately she doesn't carry much conviction in her admittedly two-dimensional role, doubling as the saloon showgirl, her singing voice dubbed by Connie Francis, even though Jayne herself was a record artist. On this showing, she is nothing much more than dyed platinum and a generous frontage. And Monroe-like, she would soon slide into degradation and early death.
As for Kenneth More, he is at least twenty years too old for the part. The use of a body-double for the rough stuff is all too transparent, and the chemistry with Jayne just isn't there at all. The comic impact of a jolly English gent in a Savile Row suit dodging bullets in the desert is not strong enough to carry the film, and it becomes wincingly embarrassing to hear lines like "What's the meaning of this behaviour?" as he tries to assert law and order like a school prefect.
I suppose we should remember that this was 1958, when you could still get away with cliché situations, and dialogue like weak lemonade. In fact, just the next year, Bob Hope gave us 'Alias Jesse James', which clearly references much of this film, without rising above its mediocre level.
The truly comic moments are few enough to list here. When he's showing off the miniature pistol to Jayne, she says she'd like one to wear in her garter. When the Indians offer Kenneth More five distinctly unappealing wives ("A brave can have many wives"), he replies "I'm not that brave." The mere sight of Jayne arriving in the middle of a gunfight in a long dress and pointing a rifle, is good comedy, even without dialogue. And there's a nice touch at the end, with Indians suddenly charging around the bridal carriage making whooping noises. When Jayne screams out "Indians!", More is able to reassure her: "No, darling. Relatives."
The film has been declared Jayne's career-summit. Unfortunately she doesn't carry much conviction in her admittedly two-dimensional role, doubling as the saloon showgirl, her singing voice dubbed by Connie Francis, even though Jayne herself was a record artist. On this showing, she is nothing much more than dyed platinum and a generous frontage. And Monroe-like, she would soon slide into degradation and early death.
As for Kenneth More, he is at least twenty years too old for the part. The use of a body-double for the rough stuff is all too transparent, and the chemistry with Jayne just isn't there at all. The comic impact of a jolly English gent in a Savile Row suit dodging bullets in the desert is not strong enough to carry the film, and it becomes wincingly embarrassing to hear lines like "What's the meaning of this behaviour?" as he tries to assert law and order like a school prefect.
I suppose we should remember that this was 1958, when you could still get away with cliché situations, and dialogue like weak lemonade. In fact, just the next year, Bob Hope gave us 'Alias Jesse James', which clearly references much of this film, without rising above its mediocre level.
The truly comic moments are few enough to list here. When he's showing off the miniature pistol to Jayne, she says she'd like one to wear in her garter. When the Indians offer Kenneth More five distinctly unappealing wives ("A brave can have many wives"), he replies "I'm not that brave." The mere sight of Jayne arriving in the middle of a gunfight in a long dress and pointing a rifle, is good comedy, even without dialogue. And there's a nice touch at the end, with Indians suddenly charging around the bridal carriage making whooping noises. When Jayne screams out "Indians!", More is able to reassure her: "No, darling. Relatives."