As you can see from the featured image, His Kind Of Woman is a batshit crazy movie. It was conceived as a send-up of the movies made by the House of Noir aka RKO Studios. My main man Vincent Price is about to roast a chicken for co-stars Jane Russell and Robert Mitchum when he learns his wife has arrived at the Mexican resort where this dizzy and daft movie takes place. That was a problem for our Vinnie: He was having an affair with his co-star from The Las Vegas Story. And I’m not talking about Victor Mature.

Vinnie’s character is a movie star based on John Barrymore and Errol Flynn. He’s as hammy as all get out but a likeable rogue. This character set the template for many of his future flamboyant characters. Shorter Adrastos: Vinnie became a ham for hire.

The plot is all over the place. There’s a crime story featuring Robert Mitchum, Charles McGraw, Tim Holt, and Raymond Burr. There’s also a romantic triangle between Mitchum, Russell, and Price.

There’s even a mad scientist plot line insisted on by producer and future hermit Howard Hughes. In fact, the mad mogul even wrote the dialogue for the mad scientist plastic surgeon guy. I am not making this up.

It’s not the plot that makes His Kind Of Woman so damn entertaining it’s the many wild scenes played out by the stellar cast of the movie. Instead of playing a villain, Vincent Price is one of the good guys who rescues Robert Mitchum from the clutches of Raymond Burr.

The rescue, however, is played for laughs as Vinnie grabs his hunting rifle and sets out to save Mitchum from Burr’s yacht. He’s accompanied by a motley posse that no sane man would assemble.

In the end, Price rescues Mitchum but Bob gets the girl. As always, Jane Russell was as sultry as hell and twice as sassy. The chemistry between her and Mitchum is palpable:

In real life, Mitchum and Russell were great friends but not lovers. But chemistry is chemistry. It’s a pity that they only made one more movie together.

His Kind Of Woman is a helluva funny film with fine performances by Mitchum, Russell, Price, Burr, and a hilarious turn by Jim Backus as an annoying stockbroker who latches on to Mitchum and tries to talk his ear off.

Backus looks like Gilligan Island’s Thurston Howell in that shot. I guess it’s the palm trees. Nobody ever confused Bob Mitchum with Bob Denver.

John Farrow was the original director of His Kind Of Woman. He handed in a 90 minute film, but Howard Hughes wanted more so he brought in Richard Fleischer to handle the reshoots and additional scenes. The script by Frank Fenton, Jack Leonard, and the uncredited Earl Felton keeps the wheels spinning and the audience laughing.

Grading Time: I give His Kind Of Woman 3 1/2 stars and an Adrastos Grade of B+. Just think of it as a proto Mel Brooks parody and you’ll enjoy it even more.

It’s poster time. The long sheets are boring, so we’ll stick to the quad.

Howard Hughes had no sense of humor, so he publicized a comedy as a sexy film noir. On that note, let’s all go to the lobby for some Hot Tamales.

The lobby cards are excellent. There’s even a rare black and white one for this black and white movie:

Insert obligatory color lobby cards for a black and white movie jokes:

All aboard the trailer:

The last word goes to Eddie Muller’s Noir Alley intro and outro. If you dig Howard Hughes stories, Eddie has got them.