With the charming and amusing Cary Grant and young understudy, Tony Curtis. The story of a submarine damaged at it's Phillipine base by early Japanese aircraft is hastily repaired and sailed for further repairs and encounters adventures on the way. The overprivileged, spoiled brat of a lieutenant turns out to be the missions' saviour with his underhand ways of obtaining supplies and materials overcoming the lumbering bureaucracy of the US Navy's establishment. The name of the title derives from their picking up stranded American service women, and that they had to escape from a bomber raid, in pink primer paint.
This wacky WWII comedy was a massive success in 1959, but has lost its shine. When a US submarine in the Philippines is decommissioned, the skipper is given an opportunity to rebuild and re-enter the war. Which includes pilfering the red and white paint that turns the vessel pink. Apparently the situations were based on real life snafus.
The comical conflict between the levelheaded establishment figure and a younger finagler is usually viable. But Cary Grant as the submarine Commander and Tony Curtis as the flash maverick don't share much chemistry, mainly because Grant is too much of a charismatic star to play the standard stuffy reactionary.
And the exploitation of the five female army nurses as babelicious kooks now feels misguided. The stalwart support cast tries its best but the familiar gags are erratic and there's only so much they can do with such threadbare stereotypes. Joan O'Brien comes off best as an accident prone blueprint for Inspector Clouseau!
There's an ultrabrite colour palette and a decent production But the comedy of propriety between the demure nurses and wolfish crew is dated; the humour is broad and unsubtle. Sure, it's a Blake Edwards picture and that can sometimes be fun. But stretched over an astonishing two hour running time, there is far too much drag.