Operation Petticoat (1959)

Blending wartime antics with sharp comedy and a splash of romantic absurdity, Operation Petticoat (1959) is one of the most endearing military comedies to emerge from the post-World War II era. Directed by the rising star Blake Edwards, produced by Robert Arthur, and starring Cary Grant and Tony Curtis, this film delivers a buoyant mix of slapstick, satire, and character-driven humour—anchored in one of the most outlandish premises of any WWII film: a pink submarine.

Plot Summary

Set during the early days of World War II in the Pacific, the film opens in the Philippines, where Commander Matt T. Sherman (Cary Grant), skipper of the USS Sea Tiger, finds his submarine badly damaged during a Japanese air raid. With limited resources and orders to evacuate, Sherman insists on repairing and sailing the sub to safety.

Enter Lieutenant Nick Holden (Tony Curtis), a slick, self-serving supply officer with more experience in procurement scams than actual naval operations. Sherman is initially appalled by Holden’s unorthodox methods, but when the con artist lieutenant begins to “acquire” critical parts—including via theft—Sherman relents, and the Sea Tiger slowly becomes seaworthy.

The real chaos begins when the sub takes on five stranded female army nurses for evacuation. Confined to the cramped sub with an all-male crew, the women cause predictable disruptions—romantic and otherwise. To add to the absurdity, a last-minute paint job gone wrong leaves the submarine a bright shade of pink, leading to even more misadventures as they try to avoid enemy detection.

Performances

Cary Grant, by this time a seasoned screen icon, brings impeccable timing and gravitas to the straight-man role of Commander Sherman. It’s a performance of subtle brilliance—Grant delivers dry one-liners and incredulous reactions with masterful restraint, letting the absurdity swirl around him while keeping the story grounded. His growing exasperation and reluctant admiration for Curtis’s character are wonderfully nuanced.

Tony Curtis, in one of his best comedic roles, plays Lt. Holden as a charming opportunist—a Navy man who’s never been on a ship and thrives through wheeling and dealing. Curtis’s energy contrasts beautifully with Grant’s stoicism, and the duo generates the kind of odd-couple chemistry that became a staple of buddy comedies.

The supporting cast includes:

Joan O'Brien as Lt. Dolores Crandall, a soft-spoken but competent nurse,

Dina Merrill as Lt. Barbara Duran, Sherman’s potential romantic interest,

Gene Evans and Dick Sargent as crew members who provide additional comedic beats.

Together, the ensemble plays off each other with an easy camaraderie, lending warmth to the hijinks.

Direction and Style

Director Blake Edwards, just before his Pink Panther fame, demonstrates a sharp eye for pacing and physical comedy. He avoids turning the film into a farce by balancing zany gags with character development and a hint of realism. The humour is situational rather than bawdy—though the gender dynamics are played for laughs, the nurses are never objectified, and Edwards treats their presence with respectful levity.

The use of Technicolor highlights the vibrant absurdity of the submarine’s transformation, and Edwards’ visual humour shines in sequences like the unveiling of the pink sub or the chaotic efforts to keep the nurses comfortable onboard.

One of Edwards’ strengths here is the film’s balance: it’s a war comedy, yes, but it never ridicules the military. Instead, it pokes fun at bureaucracy, miscommunication, and the inherent absurdities of naval life—making it broadly appealing without being overtly satirical.

Script and Humour

The screenplay, by Stanley Shapiro and Maurice Richlin (based on a story by Paul King and Joseph Stone), is brisk, witty, and filled with clever one-liners and comic misunderstandings. The narrative is episodic, structured around a series of increasingly ridiculous mishaps, but it maintains momentum thanks to strong character arcs and escalating stakes.

Sample exchanges between Grant and Curtis crackle with comic tension, especially when Sherman’s disciplined worldview clashes with Holden’s laissez-faire improvisation.

The comedy ranges from verbal quips to physical gags (a torpedo used for laundry drying, a nurse locked in the head), and despite being over six decades old, much of the humour remains charming rather than dated.

The Pink Submarine: Symbol and Spectacle

The most memorable image in the film—the pastel-coloured USS Sea Tiger—serves as a perfect metaphor for the film’s tone: irreverent but affectionate. The pink paint, originally a last-ditch effort due to a shortage of grey primer, becomes a running joke and narrative device. It highlights the absurdity of war and the necessity of improvisation, turning the sub into an instant cinematic icon.

This image also plays into the film’s subversive message: that adaptability and ingenuity matter more than rank and tradition.

Historical Inspiration

While fictional, Operation Petticoat was inspired by real wartime anecdotes, including the evacuation of nurses by submarines and shortages that required creative problem-solving. The film, however, exaggerates and condenses these stories into a light-hearted farce that pays tribute to the resourcefulness of servicemen and women.

It’s worth noting that the film was made in collaboration with the U.S. Navy, which provided access to real submarines and ensured the film struck a respectful tone.

Reception and Legacy

Upon its release, Operation Petticoat was a box office hit and became one of Universal’s top-grossing films of the year. It was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Writing (Screenplay Based on Material from Another Medium) and helped further solidify Tony Curtis’s reputation as a leading man.

It also helped launch Blake Edwards into the big leagues, paving the way for his later hits. A television series adaptation followed in the 1970s (starring John Astin), though it never matched the original’s success.

Today, the film endures as a classic wartime comedy, notable for its mix of military realism and comic absurdity. It remains a favourite among fans of vintage Hollywood and naval lore alike.

Conclusion

Operation Petticoat is a delightful, high-spirited comedy that proves wartime films need not always be grim or grandiose. With sparkling performances from Cary Grant and Tony Curtis, clever writing, and Blake Edwards’ stylish direction, it strikes a near-perfect balance between slapstick and sophistication.

It’s not only a film about the unpredictability of war, but also about the triumph of personality, wit, and charm under pressure—even if it involves painting a submarine pink.

A breezy, intelligent comedy bolstered by iconic stars, an inspired premise, and timeless laughs—Operation Petticoat is military mayhem at its most lovable.