... and just a few years away from the production code being dumped altogether it seems like a demonstration of what was the worst about the code years combined with films in the 60s trying to use what shock value they could get away with, and today , overall, it just looks cheesy.
In most summaries of this film I see Elizabeth Taylor's character, Gloria, described as a call girl. I never really see that happening. Instead Gloria just seems to like sex a lot. As in lots of sex with lots of men. Maybe to come out and say that when the goal of all women was still supposed to be having dishpan hands was going too far.
Gloria wakes up one morning in the apartment of wealthy but married playboy Weston Liggitt (Laurence Harvey), with him having left behind a note with $250 asking "Is this enough". She writes "no sale" in the mirror and takes a mink coat she finds in the closet - only to teach the guy a lesson for assuming she is for sale, but as they get more involved and do so immediately, she forgets all about that coat, and that causes a huge misunderstanding down the line.
The title comes from Gloria's answering service which is "Butterfield 8", and it is the subject of some - today - howlingly unintentionally funny scenes as Liggitt pleads with these people to find Gloria, curses at these people because they don't know where Gloria is, thanks them when they do find her. Gee, fellow, these are just operators eking out a living. They don't know their clients and they don't know you!
With Liz' husband at the time, Eddie Fisher, as a musician who has been Gloria's platonic friend since childhood and who also has a jealous girlfriend who oddly enough looks like Debbie Reynolds. There are some great location shots on the road between New York and Boston with the little independent diners and hotels that once dotted that landscape. I'd mildly recommend it.
An aside - Jeffrey Lynn, once strangely promoted as a romantic leading man over at Warner Brothers just before WWII, does a good job in a small role as Liggitt's friend.
