A best-selling author with I.R.S. problems moves into California's suburbia sect under an alias. Bob Hope doesn't seem to like playing opposite women very much. He just can't wait for them to stop talking so he can one-up them with his banter. Hope has an erratic sense of rhythm which pushes some lines too far and some not far enough. Still, "Bachelor" needs his hamminess to work because Lana Turner is spotty and uncomfortable as the suburban queen he falls for (even her surprise dance in a Hawaiian restaurant feels forced, though that's her best moment). Paula Prentiss is around as Bob's neighbor, and she amuses with her deep, off-center voice and unpredictable manner, but Jim Hutton as her husband is a complete dullard. I like this era for film comedies: the pastel colors, the plush interiors, and of course Henry Mancini's tinkly background score (always reassuring), but this movie just doesn't deliver many laughs, and the legal stuff in the second-half is positively desperate. ** from ****
Review of Bachelor in Paradise
