One of the reviewers even went on to say that the direction was good. To me it didn't seem as if they even had a director, and the cast, far from being first class, were all terrible. Yes, including, or perhaps especially, Leslie Nielson.
Before running into it on the Fox Movie Channel recently, I'd looked for this film for years to see Simon Oate's film debut (in the party car, wearing a v-neck ski sweater).
At first, I thought I was watching Leslie Nielsen's performance through the prism of his Frank Drebin portrayals, seeing clowning where there was none.
Examining the film as a product of its time, with its "Peter Gunn" jazz score, bland, throw-away pre-Beatles "pop" music, Benny Hill babes and murders politely occurring in silhouette or off-screen, and by the number of times I would have done spit-takes (had I been eating or drinking), I believe the film falls into the mercurial genre of "spy romp."
Even harder to do right than satire, spy romps have a narrow margin to traverse: thrills, chills, romance and yucks. The only way to get out of these films with your dignity intact is to play them straight and hope, if the audience doesn't get the joke, they manage to get wrapped up in the intrigue.
I think everyone did the best they could with what they'd been given to work with (not sure whether to blame the screenwriter, director or producer). The lighting and cinematography were very good, the sets serviceable, and the casting of Leslie Nielsen as intelligence agent-turned-travel agent was the best move they could possibly have made.
Not one for the ages . . . in fact, more like one for MST3K ... but a quick hour-and-five of fun.
We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives in the dream
Earth.
I'm a totally bitchin' bio writer from Mars!