Three heroic naval aviators, led by LCDR Cary Grant, wangle four days leave in crowded wartime San Francisco. They are very happy, having spent several years in the Pacific shooting down enemy planes, being wounded, and contracting malaria. Their only goal is "to get drunk and chase girls." Their warder in the city is Werner Klemperer -- also known as Colonel Klink and as the son of famed conductor Otto Klemperer -- who wangles them all sorts of perquisites including a suite at the Fairmont, where loud parties are often in progress.
It's fun. All of us like to see those we approve of having fun. But one irritating obstacle after another threatens to trip them on the hedonistic treadmill. First, there is Suzie Parker, model, who insinuates herself into Grant's affections. Then there is the manager of the Fairmont, whose objections grow more emphatic and who winds up locked in the closet. Then there is the Shore Patrol, regularly nattering them for being in summer kakhis instead of blues. There are solemn encounters with old friends now dying in hospital. Finally, there is poor Lief Erickson, owner of a ship yard, who tries to persuade the trio to tour his plants and make pep speeches to the employees to boost morale, meanwhile removing them from combat duty and seeing that they're properly rewarded. "I know how much money you boys make," bringing a sour expression to Grant's face.
The pace is pretty fast. Episodes and gags follow one another pretty quickly except for some lugubrious dialog involving Suzie Parker, her lost love, and her gradual yielding to the advances of Grant. When you get right down to it, Suzie Parker looks the part of a model out of Vogue or the New York Times Magazine but as an actress she's not convincing. Jayne Mansfield and the bust that precedes her by a quarter of a mile brings more life to the party.
There's something a little troublesome about Grant's character too. As an extremely accomplished and brave pilot he is given a good deal of moral authority and he sometimes misuses it to politely and ironically humiliate those who pay some tribute -- minor or otherwise -- to his status. In a bar he spills a civilian's drink and the victim compliments him on his uniform. "My, civilians are so sensitive these days," says Grant. An intelligent and honest reporter for the Chronicle tries to get a few words from him and Grant treats him with disdain. The blustering and ever importuning Lief Erickson gets a belt in the chops for his trouble. The viewer is always on Grant's side, but still ---
