‘m lookin’ for a wife.” In the Oregon Territory of 1850, Adam Pontipee (Howard Keel) heads into town from his high mountain farm to the Bixby general store to do some trading. While there, he’s also shopping for a spouse – not just for him but also for his six brothers. The problem, however, is that the uppity townsfolk look down upon the rugged backwoodsmen – who would all find the scenario easier if they could get some sort of package deal. “Bless your beautiful hide!”

When Adam spies Milly (Jane Powell), he sets about sizing her up – from her physique to her willingness to work (such as chopping wood and milking cows) to her cooking skills. Not wanting to wait another five months before he can return with his grain harvest, he confronts her after lunch with a wedding proposal. “I know it’s kinda short notice.”

The reverend and other members of the town are skeptical of the union, especially considering that they don’t know much about the Pontipee clan. Plus, the couple have only known each other for less than a day – something that will soon become quite apparent when they reach the homestead, inhabited by Adam’s numerous siblings, who are conveniently named in an orderly alphabetical manner: Benjamin (Jeff Richards), Caleb (Matt Mattox), Daniel (Marc Platt), Ephraim (Jacques d’Amboise), Frank (Tommy Rall), and Gideon (Russ Tamblyn). “You didn’t tell me you had brothers.”

Although the story is initially simple and funny (and terribly unrealistic), it’s the music and singing that are meant to be the primary appeal (some of the dubbing is clearly uncoordinated). But in between catchy tunes, Milly turns the tables (literally upending one), holding her ground and demanding reform not only from Adam, but also from his barbaric brethren (perhaps a gender reversal of “My Fair Lady”). Refusing to be a servant, she’s impressively tough and strong-willed, even though she’s stuck in a curiously manipulative, misogynistic conundrum. As is typical with Hollywood’s splashy CinemaScope musicals, the plot is old-fashioned and outdated, but the lighthearted approach and the hardy crooning tend to counter the subject matter.

Here, it’s evident that part of the premise is reminiscent of Disney’s “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” as some of the grumpier brothers are soon softened and transformed by the humming newcomer, which is a more pleasant interpretation than the actual source material (“The Sobbin’ Women”), based on the ancient Roman legend of the Rape of the Sabine Women (sanitized and referenced via dialogue – and eventually through action). The gentlemanly rehabilitation is also good for effective humor, led by courting attempts and rivalry. “Hey, look! Girls!”

But perhaps the most enjoyable factor is the incorporation of musical and dance sequences set directly within the storytelling, as opposed to separate, disconnected numbers that individually showcase performances. Many serve the purpose of moving the plot forward, though a few are boisterous roughhousing gags that aren’t exactly dances, even if they boast a comparable athleticism and choreography. Yet all make excellent use of colorful costumes and inventive sets, turning rather mundane ranching routines into energetic affairs.

“What kind of men are you anyway?” In the final act, the actual kidnapping of potential wives (including a young Julie Newmar) is again a stretch for sensibility, but the continual levity tends to soften the controversial nature of the abduction (and the girls’ cries and tears). Understandable conflict finally arises, paving the way for moral lessons about common decency and proper behavior – amends made in an “ask for forgiveness later” sort of fashion. And the concluding catch at the end, guaranteeing a happy outcome, is incredibly clever. It’s all so whimsical and innocent, bestowing this classic with a sweetness, humorousness, and memorableness that can’t be ignored. Whether or not its themes age poorly (regardless of their comic approach), it’s still one of the most entertaining of MGM’s musical productions.

– Mike Massie