THE FULLER BREAST MAN is an odd movie for several reasons, but perhaps the oddest things about this old black + white comedy is that it was released at all, especially in 1957 when it was fairly taboo to even saying the word "breast" in films. It stars Bob Hope (and then Eve Arden) as Chester Buxley, a door to door salesman with a suitcase full of products from the Fuller Breast Corporation, which as the name implies sells a bustline enhancement product. But unlike that junk you see advertised in the back pages of magazines their stuff actually works- a formula with magical properties that makes bosom of whoever drinks it swell almost instantly.

But even with such a miraculous product to hawk Mr. Buxley has a hard time making his sales quota. Bob Hope was always good at playing the hapless shmoe who gets dumped on by fate (like in those "Road To" movies- Bing Crosby leaving with the girl they'd both been vying for, clearly having won her affection while Hope is left trapped in some degrading situation, his expression showing he pretty much expected this...) and here he is in fine form. There is something awkward and untrustworthy about him; and with his built-in lascivious leer and the double entendres that seem to spill unwittingly from his tongue he is clearly the wrong person to be approaching female strangers to discuss their anatomies and how they might be---ahem---improved. And of course in the first part of this film anything that might go wrong during the course of his sales pitches does go wrong. The scene where some of the Fuller Breast Formula gets spilled into the goldfish bowl and the pet fish grows breasts is disturbing and surreal.

It's only when he discards his portfolio of before-and-after photos and demonstrates the products potential by sipping some himself and sprouting little boobies that he begins to find success with the housewives he's pitching his product to. But he has to be careful. As he's been warned by his regional supervisor (Leo G. Carrol) more than a few drops will leave him with breasts that don't disappear in an hour or so; and what happens with a larger dose is hinted at as being "a fate worse than death"- which if you're a regular reader of these TRANSGENDER CINEMA reviews you would probably be more likely to see as more of a blessing than a curse. I know I would love to get ahold of some of the stuff! And of course, once this is revealed we know it's only a matter of time before it happens. But the first half of the picture doesn't hint at how he'll be is forced to chug down a half bottle and turn into Eve Arden, as the film abruptly veers off course and into spy thriller territory...

It's in Las Vegas that his sample case accidently gets swapped with the atomic bomb secrets some Russian agents have acquired, rolled sheets of blueprints and technical scribblings that he doesn't recognize as anything important but only knows that he can't sell them to his customers. He finds the spies and explains how their cases had looked identical and he'd grabbed the wrong one there in the keno loungue at the Sands (the location shots of historic Las Vegas really make me wish this film was in color!); and though the viewer has long since figured this out it takes a long time for it to dawn on him that these grim unsmiling fellows are evil and he can't charm or joke his way out of the threat they pose. The fact that he knows about them at all means he has to die. He throws their case at them, scoops up his own and flees the room in a hail of bullets.

Hiding in a lavatory, he knows they're closing in, and while he realizes he has a perfect "disguise" in the little bottles he's carrying he only reluctantly chugs down half a bottle and faints as he's enveloped by a dissolve. A second later a fairly good looking blonde emerges from the toilet cubicle and brushes past the zoot suited Soviet goon, who stares nonplussed at the sight of a woman in the men's bathroom but doesn't realize this is his quarry, not even when she says in Buxley's voice: "Take a picture, fellas. It'll last longer!"

The fact that his whole body has been changed and yet for the rest of the picture has to fake a high pitched female voice isn't very logical, but then neither is the miraculous wardrobe change the Fuller Breast formula has somehow caused, as she spends the rest of the film in a shimmering rayon dress and pair of heels that make him/her walk like a chicken. Eve Arden's impression of a dorky cisgender male who's suddenly found himself transformed into a "dame" is a masterpiece of physical comedy.

While it's not the most insightful gender transformation film ever made it does touch on the change of perspective this character experiences in now being seen and treated as a female. The dismissive treatment she receives when she tries to join in a poker game, the cop not taking her seriously when she claims her life is in danger from a pursuer who choses just that moment to vanish, and her discomfort with being hit on by an increasingly repulsive series of horny men.

I won't give away how his transformation is discovered and all the highjinks that lead up to a final showdown at Hoover Dam worthy of Hitchcock; but I'll just say THE FULLER BREAST MAN is worth seeing, not just for fans of TG cinema but anyone who enjoys these kinds of corny old American comedies. It's not a perfect film, but like Joe E. Brown---who has been romantically pursuing the hero/heroine---says in the memorable final scene: "Nobody's perfect..."

You can order it from WWW.GOLD STAR VIDEO.COM but it's a pisspoor dvd with a muddy look to it and bad sound. Better to wait until it shows up at 4 am on Turner Classic Movies, which it does a few times a year.