A pharmaceutical Fountain of Youth accidentally invented by a lab chimpanzee unleashes long-suppressed impulses in cautious chemist Cary Grant and sensible wife Ginger Rogers in a slapstick fable that “sets out-gaily, logically, and with an unholy abandon-to chronicle the fatal stages in the degradation of a superior mind” (Jacques Rivette). Reprising elements of Bringing Up Baby, the film recalls Hawks's own screwball prime while turning the stars into the kind of kids they probably never were: Grant doffs his Coke-bottle glasses and takes off in a convertible with Marilyn Monroe; Rogers becomes a weepy, bashful bride. Even while it revels in the characters' infantile adventures, the script pits young-as-you-feel bromides against the sheer horrors of immaturity. Grant's character puts it pretty succinctly: “Maladjustment, near idiocy, and a series of low comedy disasters, that's what youth is. I don't see how anyone survives it.”