It's possible that there have been more needless films than Pussycat, Pussycat, I Love You, but it's frightening to imagine what they might be. Drawn from (rather than inspired, which is a word than simply cannot be associated with this film) the extremely silly but nevertheless enjoyable What's New, Pussycat?, this one lacks everything that made the original worthwhile: a fantastic cast, a funny if unwieldy screenplay, an appreciation for and simultaneous amusement with 1960s mode culture, and Tom Jones warbling the immortal hit song. This Pussycat simply can't compete. Ian McShane, Anna Calder-Marshall and John Gavin are all certainly easy on the eyes, but they don't have enough star wattage or sheer personality and magnetism that's needed. They also aren't natural comedians, and Pussycat desperately needs a wild and inventive comic sensibility. Of course, director/screenwriter Rodney Amateau is also lacking in this area, and that's the bigger problem. Jokes fall incredibly flat; at times, one isn't even sure if what has just passed on the screen could even be called a joke, but it's hard to classify it as anything else. There's no structure to the script, and characters are made to say or do things seemingly on whim. And despite Amateau's best efforts to make the film "wacky," all it is is dull, dull, dull. Some nice period fashions, but that's about all there is to recommend.