owboy Beauregard “Bo” Decker (Don Murray) aims to win a World Championship rodeo prize for wrestling a steer to the ground with his bare hands in less than six seconds. Along with fatherly pal Virgil (Arthur O’Connell), he boards a bus to Phoenix, Arizona, venturing away from his Susie Q Ranch in Montana for the first time, essentially, in his 21 years. But Bo has another goal once he’s in the bigger city: “I’m gonna get me an angel.”

With a hint of coaching from guitar-plucking Virgil, ignoramus Bo reckons he’ll nab himself a woman while he’s in an area with a suitable selection. But that will be a particularly difficult task, especially since the boy has absolutely no experience in that field. And it doesn’t help that he’s loud, obnoxious, uneducated, uncivilized, inconsiderate, argumentative, stubborn, intrusive, mannerless, and a bit of a troublemaker; he even eats his burgers raw and chugs a quart of milk straight from the bottle while at a roadside diner. As luck would have it, however, he crosses paths with a gorgeous hillbilly girl, Cherie (Marilyn Monroe), working as a singer (or chanteuse) at the Blue Dragon Cafe, where she’s tasked with keeping the patrons in a good mood. Unfortunately for her, it also involves getting groped by nearly everyone in the joint.

“This trip is gonna be mighty educational.” Based on the William Inge play, this light, fluffy, frivolous piece finds two air-headed nuts practically blindly navigating love-at-first-sight. Bo is basically a child in a man’s body, while Cherie, permanently in a sleep-deprived haze, can barely understand why the rowdy saloon-goers grab at her or ogle her, or what Bo means when he aggressively embraces her and insists that they’re going to be married (she even signs a marriage certificate just because she doesn’t want to make a scene in public). She’s almost too imbecilic to function. And it’s not just them; it seems as if every character in the picture is intent on pairing up with a romantic partner within seconds of introductions.

“I’m being abducted!” Although these roles are meant to be comical caricatures, they’re actually mostly just annoying and grating. It’s difficult to be amused by such unintelligent, foolish oafs shouting at each other, continually engaging in slapstick shenanigans while becoming laughingstocks to onlookers. In a more serious setting, of course, many of these activities would be plain physical assault and sexual harassment. Here, they’re essentially the live-action equivalents of Pepe Le Pew and the female cat – the skunk relentlessly pursuing his quarry as she strives to flee. Scenes of actual rodeo footage are the only elements of realism.

As with many of the era’s cartoonish romantic comedies – including ones starring Monroe – the formula is entirely predictable. The central lovers fight to stay apart, before fighting to get back together (in a slow, drawn-out third act), though not without Bo meeting a fitting comeuppance for his embarrassing bullheadedness – and an about-face emotional reformation. It’s not enough, however; once both leads are defined as irredeemably slow-witted, it’s impossible to get back onboard with their airy affair. They’re just too undesirable, even if they’re intended to be funny, crudely drawn outlines of real people. And the parting shots are utterly ridiculous. “Women and swimming are pretty much the same.”

– Mike Massie