Alec Guinness as The Man In The White Suit, Alexander MacKendrick, 1951
Tony Curtis with Sharon Tate in Don't Make Waves, Alexander MacKendrick, 1967
Surely I can't be the first person to have picked this up. The only thing that messes up the symmetry is that while Waves is MacKendrick's final film as director, Suit is not his first but his second film as director (the first was Whisky Galore!/Tight Little Island).
UPDATE: Several commenters have indirectly solicited my assessment of the latter film, which was recently made available via the indespensible albeit slightly irritating (because they're indespensible—it's a loop, you see) Warner Archive. I dig it. It doesn't have the verbal assets of such prime MacKendrick fare as White Suit, Sweet Smell of Success, and others, and there's a good deal of technical roughness around its edges, but it's pretty fascinatingly acerbic, Tate is wonderful in it, and the climactic scene should have been watched by Michael Bay before he tackled the folding-skyscraper sequence in Transformers: Bark At The Moon, or whatever the hell it was called. My old friend Joseph Failla has some notes on the film that are not inapt, complete with illustrations:
"It took awhile but when I caught up with DON'T MAKE WAVES, I wasn't disappointed in the least. While I have a liking for some of the sillier beach movies, WAVES as directed by Mackendrick seemed to have more on it's mind, basically skewering many American values of excess. This would make a good double feature with the incredibly acidic THE LOVED ONE,also helmed by an English director taking an even angrier aim at the same subject (in fact both films feature a sequence with valuable beach front property precariously teetering on the edge of destruction).
"I realize to call DON'T MAKE WAVES the LA DOLCE VITA of beach films is a stretch, although the these pics from both movies underscore an interesting affinity, I think. I may not have picked up on the white suits, but I find Tony Curtis makes for a decent Marcello Mastroianni, American style (think of Sidney Falco in SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS as a more smarmy counterpart to Mastroianni's famous paparazzi, Marcello Rubini from VITA). While the inclusion of Claudia Cardinale reminds me of the presence of a European's eye view of the sweet life in '60s southern California. You may not feel both films should be mentioned in the same conversation but is there not a similar glint in Curtis' eye for Cardinale that Mastroianni has for Ekberg?"