Rating summary

Movie		3.5
Video		3.0
Audio		4.0
Extras		0.5
Overall		3.5

How to Murder Your Wife Blu-ray Movie Review

When divorce is not an option. . .

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman February 18, 2015

How to Murder Your Wife certainly had one of the more intentionally provocative titles of a mid-sixties film, one that initial audiences viewing the film may have been lured into believing—if only for the briefest of moments—was supposed to be taken seriously. The redolent tones of Terry-Thomas play on this instant of gullibility as the film starts, with a voiceover suggesting that the audience must be made up entirely of males, since no husband in his right mind would ever bring his spouse to a film with this title. Terry-Thomas portrays Charles Firbank, a “gentleman’s gentleman” to an initially unseen character named Stanley Ford (Jack Lemmon). Charles, breaking the fourth wall (as he continues to do throughout the film), addresses the audience “personally,” informing them of Stanley Ford’s carefree, bachelor lifestyle, one that is filled with midtown Manhattan luxuries, including an impressive brownstone, a custom shower set to match Ford’s temperature of 98. 7 degrees and, of course, Charles himself. How to Murder Your Wife may have caught 1965 audiences by surprise not just due to its title, for the film is rather slyly discursive in finally getting around to its central plot. Instead, for the opening several minutes and through a number of initial sequences, it seems that perhaps Stanley is the sort of jet setting bachelor who was then currently one of cinema’s major phenomena—namely, an international spy with a three digit code name (number?). When Charles outfits Stanley with a pistol and Stanley then picks up a gaggle of characters who would be at home in any James Bond flick, it might appear that the “murder” alluded to in the title is going to be part and parcel of some huge espionage caper that somehow involves Stanley and (one assumes) Charles.

The conceit turns out to be that Stanley is not in fact a superspy, but a cartoonist, one whose daily strip documenting the adventures of a superspy named Bash Brannigan is a national phenomenon. Because Stanley wants his character to be as realistic as possible, he acts out Bash’s skirmishes with villains, with Charles tagging along to take pictures which Stanley can then utilize as references for his artwork. Stanley seems to have a near perfect bachelor existence, which evidently includes a regular supply of eager women dropping by the tony brownstone for an evening of “dancing” (as Charles euphemistically terms it). What could possibly go wrong?

A bachelor party, that’s what. At a raucous celebration honoring the upcoming nuptials of Stanley’s buddy Tobey Rawlins (Max Showalter), a heavily inebriated Stanley stares in wonder when an immense vanilla cake opens and an absolutely stunning blonde woman emerges, wearing little more than what appears to a whipped cream bikini (a perhaps winking reference to what was then one of 1965’s best selling albums, The Tijuana Brass’ Whipped Cream and Other Delights, an LP which featured an iconic cover image of model Dolores Erickson “clad” in nothing but the sweet stuff). Before you know it, Stanley wakes up the next morning actually married to the woman, an Italian beauty named—well, we never find out what she’s named, since she doesn’t speak English. She is referred to as Mrs. Ford (Virna Lisi) throughout the film, when she's referred to by name at all.

Charles, who often seems telepathically tethered to Stanley, awakens from a nightmare about all of this only to discover a waking nightmare when he is faced with the reality of a new, seemingly permanent, female taking up residence in the brownstone. Of course Stanley is desperate to make sure this isn’t a permanent arrangement, and quickly heads off to his attorney Harold Lampson (an hilarious Eddie Mayehoff), who informs him (in one of the film’s patent gimmicks) that divorce is out of the question without a suitable cause.

The pieces are all in place now for a rather (perhaps appropriately, given Stanley’s occupation) cartoonish farce, but How to Murder Your Wife actually manages to whip up a bit of intelligent banter to go along with more traditional bedroom (if not door slamming) shenanigans. Stanley suddenly finds himself having to cope with a wife who, while obviously stunningly attractive, has absolutely no grasp of English and seemingly even fewer traditional domestic attributes. Mrs. Ford becomes addicted to television, which provides her a steady stream of “English lessons,” while she also learns in a somewhat different way from Harold’s overbearing wife Edna (a very funny Claire Trevor). Meanwhile, Stanley’s emphasis on “reality” in his cartoon strip transforms the globetrotting Bash into a bungling family man. Unexpectedly the strip’s popularity only further explodes.

How to Murder Your Wife has a few more plot machinations in store before it finally turns into something of a caper film, when Stanley, forever “rehearsing” things for ultimate inclusion in his comic strip, starts working out a plot where Bash terminates with more or less extreme prejudice his wife. Unfortunately for Stanley, in true farcical fashion, it’s assumed that he has in fact done away with the lovely Mrs. Ford, after the buxom blonde disappears (in one of the film’s unexpectedly sweet moments). Suddenly Stanley is on trial for the murder of his wife, and it seems that not even a secret agent of Bash Brannigan’s powers will be able to save him.

Old comedy pro George Axelrod (The Seven Year Itch ) provides a smart, winking screenplay that offers Lemmon a field day for his patented neurotic responses to either real or imagined tragedies. The film moves along incredibly briskly, aided by an absolutely first rate supporting cast and Richard Quine’s well paced direction. Lisi is of course incredibly delicious (with or without a whipped cream bikini), so much so that most males watching the film will probably be thinking, “Hey, don’t murder her—just send her this way if you want to get rid of her.”

How to Murder Your Wife Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

How to Murder Your Wife is presented on Blu-ray courtesy of Olive Films with an AVC encoded 1080p transfer in 1.67:1. This is a watchable if fairly modest transfer that has the look of perhaps having been prepared during the DVD era. Elements are in okay if occasionally damaged condition, but colors have faded slightly but noticeably toward the brown end of things, and there is slight but quite noticeable edge enhancement on display, a tendency which is most obvious in outdoor locations, and so perhaps gets a bit more of a pass than it should since so much of this film takes place inside. There's quite a bit of grain in evidence which resolves naturally. While this is a fairly soft looking presentation, close-ups can still reveal decent fine detail (see screenshot 11, notably the tiny hairs on the left side of Lisi's elegant neck). The presentation actually looks considerably better in motion than some of these screenshots might suggest, and so some viewers may feel a higher score is warranted.

How to Murder Your Wife Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

How to Murder Your Wife features a nicely detailed lossless DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 mono mix which capably supports the film's dialogue and the very fun score by Neal Hefti, who was just entering his most productive period in films and television. Fidelity is fine, with no problems to report.

How to Murder Your Wife Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Trailer (1080p; 3:55)

How to Murder Your Wife Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

How to Murder Your Wife's title may have raised a few eyebrows back in the day, but the film manages to cartwheel through a dizzying array of plot machinations to deliver an often ebullient and very funny display of true love triumphing in the end. Jack Lemmon and Terry-Thomas are incredibly fun together and the supporting cast in this film simply can't be topped. Technical merits are good (video) to excellent (audio), and How to Murder Your Wife comes Recommended.