Your Past is Showing AKA The Naked Truth (1957)

“I’ve always considered murder to be rather un-English. I mean, one’s got to draw the line somewhere, hasn’t one?”

In Your Past is Showing, a seedy blackmailing journalist Nigel Dennis (Dennis Price) uncovers the deep, dark dirty secrets of various VIPs and then threatens to expose the nasty details in his potboiler tabloid called The Naked Truth (the film’s alternate title).

The film begins with slimy Nigel Dennis approaching his latest victim. Dennis Price is perfect for this role with his unique, unusual and almost impossible blend of obsequious, respectful insolence. While the film makes it clear that Dennis has many victims, for the purposes of the story, the plot concentrates on four victims: philanderer and shady insurance racketeer Lord Henry Mayley (Terry-Thomas), comedian and slum landlord Wee Sonny MacGregor (Peter Sellers), author and unwed mother Flora Ransom (Peggy Mount), and model Melissa Right (Shirley Eaton). Dennis approaches each of his victims individually and the film shows the characters in their unblemished lives and then Dennis exposes the ugly truth to each victim by showing  the tacky Naked Truth magazine featuring an expose on the victims unless they pay 10,000 pounds.

Wee Sonny MacGregor, for example, is a well-loved television personality, and in his programme, which caters to seniors, he brings on stage various frail elderly guests who then perform some amateur act–one elderly man plays a penny whistle for example. MacGregor publicly acts very generously to his guests, showing tolerance and patience, but in reality, he’s a slum landlord who keeps his elderly tenants in the most hideous conditions. The scenes depicting MacGregor’s show are brilliant as MacGregor frequently comes on stage dressed identically to his ancient guests, and he even mimics their mannerisms. The patronage involved in MacGregor’s behaviour seems to escape his adoring audience, but the plot shows the hard rather vicious man just beneath the surface of the benevolent Wee Sonny MacGregor act.

The late, great Terry-Thomas delivers a tour-de-force performance as the beleaguered Lord Mayley, a man who poses in costume to have his portrait painted just before Dennis presents him with The Naked Truth’s slimy edition of the facts behind the life of this married, respectable peer of the realm. Lady Lucy Mayley (Georgina Cookson) has no illusions about her husband’s behaviour, but she is curious, and her curiosity leads to some of the film’s funniest scenes as Lord Mayley goes to great lengths to try and deceive her.

Indomitable author, Flora Ransom (Peggy Mount) is a bombastic woman who intends to marry her dotty fiance, the Reverend Cedric Bastable (Milles Malleson). The toast of literary circles and adored by her insipid, nervous daughter Ethel (played brilliantly by the talented Joan Sims) , Flora Ransom doesn’t want the truth about her past to make the cover of The Naked Truth.

Shirley Eaton as model Melissa Right doesn’t get much of the story, and the film’s comic elements rest on the considerable talents of the rest of the cast. The film is a showcase for the talents of Peter Sellers as he slips effortlessly into multiple characters donning disguises and a variety of accents along the way.

While the victims contemplate paying the blackmailer…or the alternatives, fate brings them together. And collectively, they come up with a solution. Your Past is Showing, from director Mario Zampi, is a delightful, good natured British comedy and is certain to please fans of the cast.

A few lines from the film:

“Rely on that stupid idiot? No thank you. I’ll rely on my bomb. And now for the gunpowder….”

“I fell by the wayside.”

“My wife spends a lot of money. If there’s any left over, I spend it.”

“So-called policemen masquerading as ordinary citizens.”

“We’ve run right out of the Geli.”

“Murder by a figment of the imagination.”

“Push him under a bus. That’s the only way to get rid of pests like that.”

“Mumsy, oh mumsy darling. Are you alright?”

 

The Spoils of Poynton (1970)

This 1970 BBC version of the Henry James classic The Spoils of Poynton begins with houseguests Mrs Gereth (Pauline Jameson) and Fleda Vetch (Gemma Jones) meeting at Waterbath, the ostentatious home of Mrs Brigstock (June Ellis) and her daughter Mona (Diane Fletcher). The houseguests meet by accident as both women marvel at the bad taste of  the Brigstocks blatantly displayed through the various garish ornaments and stuffed birds that litter every corner of the house. Mrs Gereth tries to tease criticisms of the Brigstocks’ taste from Miss Vetch and confesses that she’s there to meet Mona, her son Owen’s (Ian Ogilvy) love interest.

Just as Mrs Gereth can’t stand the Brigstock’s decor, neither can she stand Mona, but the weak-willed Owen is too besotted with Mona to take any notice of his indomitable mother. The implication is that Owen would probably normally bend to his mother’s wishes, but in this instance he’s come under the spell of an equally formidable woman. Mrs Gereth is convinced that if Owen marries Mona, then Mona will ruin Poynton’s elegance by bringing her own appalling taste to the house.

Sensing that the delicate, introverted Miss Vetch has good taste, Mrs Gereth invites her to Poynton, one of two houses she owns, ostensibly to show her the house and its treasures. It’s soon clear that Miss Vetch loves Poynton and its contents with the same sort of reverence as Mrs Gereth–a woman who’s spent her lifetime collecting treasures for the house. But there’s another reason Mrs Gereth has invited Miss Vetch. Mrs Gereth acknowledges that when it comes to preserving Poynton she has a vicious streak, and her plan is to shove Miss Vetch  into Owen’s path and divert him from Mona.

The plan to sever Owen from Mona becomes an imperative after Mona’s visit to Poynton. Mona is there to visit before she gives Owen an answer to his recent marriage proposal, and this includes her assessment of Poynton as her possible future home.  While Mona makes suitable noises about Poynton’s grandeur she also lets slip plans for substantial change.

As the film’s title implies–a battle ensues over the Spoils of Poynton, and Owen’s affections become the battleground for Poynton and its contents. Owen’s desires fade into the background as his mother battles for ‘what’s best for Owen’ and that of course is coincidentally what’s best for her and will ensure that Poynton remains intact. Owen is like a ball tossed around by these three equally steely women–Mrs Gereth, Mona and even Miss Vetch although her mettle isn’t obvious until the plot develops.

This is a marvellous and sensitive story brought to life by an incredible screenplay and superb acting. All the subtle nuances of character and human motivation remain intact and at times as the struggle for power sways one way and then another, sympathies too shift. At first, Mrs Gereth seems just to be a selfish snob who places too much emphasis on possessions, but then it becomes clear that Poynton is a physical embodiment of the past life she shared with her husband. And this certainly explains why Poynton is more like a musuem than a home. Similarly, at first Mona is seen as just a loud-mouthed bossy woman who happens to have bad taste, and yet in her struggle for power and control of Owen, Mona is prepared to go just as far as necessary to win. And then there’s Miss Vetch–a woman who falls in love with a house but then seems strangely reticent when it comes to physical passion. Finally there’s Owen–a weak willed pliable man who remains largely confused and used by the passions, jealousy, steely moral decisions and seething desires of ownership that define the women in his life.

The Spoils of Poynton is part of the Henry James Collection.

A Month By the Lake (1995)

Fans of British films set in the picturesque tourist destinations of Italy should really enjoy the engaging and highly entertaining film, A Month By the Lake from director John Irvin and based on a story by H.E.Bates. And while nothing much really happens in the film it’s an enjoyable romp, thanks mainly to the talents of the film’s leading actors Vanessa Redgrave and James Fox.

One of the unspoken rules in films that depict the British abroad, is that away from the damp and the fog of their native land, they tend to drop inhibitions and go just a little crazy as they engage in activities and relationships they wouldn’t dream of indulging in in their native land. Take Shirley Valentine and Where Angels Fear To Tread–just two of dozen of titles that explore the behaviour of the British abroad.

A Month By the Lake begins with Miss Bentley (veteran actress Vanessa Redgrave) striding up the steps of an elegant lakeside Italian villa. This is the Lake Como resort Miss Bentley has visited every year for 16 years, but this is the first time she’s come alone. Although her father has recently died, Miss Bentley returns alone to the resort as she loves Lake Como and has made firm friends amongst the other guests. This is, we are told via voice over narration, that last glorious summer before the war.

But while rumours of war grumble in the background, the action focuses on the villa and its guests. There are a couple of middle-aged American women there and also the solitary retired British Major Wilshaw (James Fox). Lonely Miss Bentley is attracted to Major Wilshaw on the very first day, and while circumstances throw them together upon occasion, he’s beguiled by the saucy, young American governess, Miss Beaumont (Uma Thurman) who has charge of two little Italian girls.

This gentle romance follows the trials and tribulations of Wilshaw’s courtship, and while the film could so easily have become cliched and like a million other films on the same subject, A Month By the Lake is saved by its wry humour and sly look at the many foibles of human behaviour–vanity, willfulness, boredom and loneliness all gilded with the fact that these characters are far away from home and the repercussions of their behaviour may not wash ashore on their doorsteps.

The film keeps the shadows of impending war in the background, but the sense remains that so much is on the brink of loss and destruction. Vanessa Redgrave steals the film as the buoyant Miss Bentley, so easy to underestimate and designate as “spinster” while underneath passion and an irrepressible zest for life longs to burst free

The Big Job (1965)

“How many times do I have to tell you we’re not going to dynamite the wall. It’s a police station. They get funny about that sort of thing.”

Of course I’m not going straight.”

“I joined the police force for a bit of action.”

“What are you all of a sudden? Britain’s best dressed jailbird?”

“When a man has to stay in bed, that’s the time he really needs a woman, I think.”

“Won’t you get into trouble taking the sergeant’s trousers off?”

“”What nit would want to climb into a police station?”

“Anybody’d think you haven’t seen a harpoon gun before.”

“Go on, buzz off to bed.”

“We’ve far more serious things to worry about than suspicious incidents.”

“Don’t run away from her, you nit. Give in.”

 Crime certainly doesn’t pay, but at least it provides a few laughs in the British Comedy, The Big Job. Although the film’s box cover brags that “The CARRY ON gang star in a cracking comedy caper film,” the film isn’t as funny as the best of the Carry On films. Directed by Gerald Thomas (who directed the Carry On films) it does feature a few of the Carry On stars–most notably Sid James and Joan Sims. The Big Job (aka What a Carry On: The Big Job) is an amusing film, and it certainly takes the viewer on a pleasant nostalgic trip to the 60s days of film.

The film begins in 1950 with gang leader, George aka The Great Brain (Sid James) planning a bank robbery with his criminal pals. The gang consists of Frederick “Booky” Binns (Dick Emery), Timothy “Dipper” Day (Lance Percival), and Myrtle Robbins (Sylvia Syms), who’s also George’s moll. The plan is to knock off a small bank, but the heist is bungled from start to finish. Prior to his capture, George hides the loot inside of a tree located in the countryside. George, Frederick and Timothy are all captured and sentenced to 15 years.

15 years later, Myrtle is at the prison gates for a reunion, but the first order of business is to go get that money. While George does manage to relocate the tree, it’s now standing in the middle of a police station. Undeterred George decides to book everyone in to a boarding house that stands opposite the police station. Here, he reasons, since he will be able to see the tree, he can work out a way to break into the police station and get the loot.

Lonely widow Mildred Gamely (Joan Sims) owns the boarding house, and the gang members check into her home as Professor Hook, Dr. Line, Mr. Sinker. There are a couple of problems; lanky policeman, Harold (Jim Dale) also lives in the house, and Mildred sets her beady eyes on one of the male gang members.

Some of the comedy comes from the gang’s complete ineptness, but Sid James isn’t at his best here. We only get the signature chuckle a couple of times, and Sid as an inept crook isn’t as funny as most of his other, better roles which usually involve some sort of craftiness (Carry On Camping, Carry On Girls). Sylvia Syms doesn’t quite fit in the role of gang moll Myrtle. Although she dons a working class accent for the role, she doesn’t quite carry off the part, and it’s in the moments that she’s silent that she seems most out-of-place. During breakfasts around the landlady’s table for example, the rest of the gang pass themselves off as birdwatchers, and of course, given the gang members’ behaviour and mannerisms, that’s a ludicrous notion. But when Sylvia Syms sits at the table eating and minding her own business as the conversation rages around her, she makes a believable professor’s wife. It’s just that all three professors are obviously not who they say they are. I kept imagining Carry On’s Barbara Windsor in the role of Myrtle–a bit tarty, cheeky and cockney–and it was a good fit.

Ultimately, Joan Sims steals the film as Myrtle Gamely. There’s one scene in her bedroom with “Prof Link” that displays this talented actress’s wide range. Watching the scene, it feels like being in the room as she coyly parries questions, hides her pleasure, and tries to act as though she isn’t being propositioned. The comedy here comes from the fact she really isn’t being propositioned but she thinks she is.

Another funny subplot involves the policemen’s choir led by the local Sgt (Deryck Guyler). He’s so engrossed in the choir, crime rages rampant outside of his very front door, and to him it’s just a big bother and a distraction from his main interest. He has the bureaucratic demeanor down pat.

For fans of British comedies from the 60s, this is a satisfying film–not wonderful, but it’s certainly a great pleasure to watch some many familiar faces again.

The Pure Hell of St Trinian’s (1960)

 

“This is the final outrage. A soliloquy to striptease. What would the Bard have said?”

“You’ve got hold of the dirty end of the stick there, gov.”

“Morals is not going out with boys after dark.”

“I will give you the grift for 200 knicker and a safe passage to Ostend.”

“The outbursts of hooliganism are really intolerable.”

“Stands to reason they couldn’t be anything other than round the bend.”

“Interpol will take care of you.”

“Bitterness does not become you, my dear.”

Where was your self-control?”

“There’s only one thing for it…mutiny.”

“Play for me, gyspy.”

“I understand you’re partly responsible for providing me with these hellcats.”

“Well instead of calling me Flash Harry, they’re going to call me Flesh Harry. What will my mum think?”

“Girls! Girls! It’s the fourth form!”

“After all the things you said in the back of the police car.”

“It’s getting rough out there.”

 

The Pure Hell of St Trinian’s is the third St Trinian’s film in the series of four, and out of the four films, this one and the first film, The Belles of St Trinian’s are my two favourites.

For those of you who don’t know, St Trinian’s is a notorious British boarding school for girls, and its pupils are out-of-control deliquents and hellraisers who run amok–much to the alarm of local residents, the police department and the Ministry of Education. The cartoonist Ronald Searle was the original creator of the idea, and four films were made based on his cartoons. Admittedly, there have been a couple of newer films to cash in on the St Trinian’s claim to shame, but since I’m not interested in them, they are not included here.

 St Trinian’s has an evil reputation, and both the Ministry of Education and the local police department long for the closure of the school, and in the beginning of the film, it does indeed look as though St Trinian’s days are finally numbered.

In The Pure Hell of St Trinian’s the girls are accused of setting fire to the school, and in an attempt to close St Trinian’s forever, the prosecuting counsel puts the entire school on trial–over 200 girls spill over the docks at the Old Bailey. With witnesses such as Lolita Chatterley Peyton Place Brighton and the rat who proposes to reveal the identities of the guilty girls for “knicker and a safe passage to Ostend,” the trial rapidly degenerates into a lot of rotten tomato throwing and several passes made at the judge.

Just as the judge is about to announce the sentence, a rather rum figure who calls himself ‘Professor Canford’ (Cecil Parker) proposes an “unorthodox approach” to punishment, and soon Canford and his potty headmistress–Miss Harker-Parker (played by the adorably cuddly Irene Handl) are given custody of the girls. Harker-Parker, by the way is the only one “who can produce a certificate to prove” her sanity. Canford plans to take the sixth form girls out of the country on a cruise to Greece, and to impress the Ministry he hosts a St Trinian’s Culture festival–and this includes such events as a paint battle, a fashion show that consists of tattily dressed urchins parading around, and then the “final outrage,” a version of Hamlet–complete with a striptease.

Canford leaves for Greece with the sixth form, and Policewoman Ruby Gates (Joyce Grenfell) succumbs to pressure from her fiance of 14 years–Sgt Sammy– to stow away on the ship packrat fashion–along with her recorder–and report back on the actions of the somewhat fishy Canford.

Soon “Operation Gymslip” is launched after the entire sixth form disappears. The British government decides the kidnapped sixth form must be saved as “after all, they are British,” but to avoid an international incident, the operation is secret. A mobile bath unit of the British Army (awaiting supplies of gin) is activated, and 2 school inspectors are dispatched with edible instructions. Serious help is on the way as the rest of the vicious St Trinians mob dash to the rescue.

This is yet another wonderful addition to the St Trinian’s series. Old favourites are here–the liftman from the Ministry of Education, George Cole as Flash Harry (and we see his tattoo in this film) has a much bigger role, and the 2 school inspectors, Culpepper-Brown and Butters return, and of course, the forever engaged “local copper’s moll” Ruby Gates (Joyce Grenfell) is back in a much-expanded role as the lovelorn, long-suffering policewoman, Ruby Gates.. Newcomers in this film include Cecil Parker and Irene Handl, but also Dennis Price as the marvelously snobby MP, Gore Blackwood, and Sid James–a truly great comedian–has a small role as Alphonse O’Reilly. One of the funniest sub-plots in the film shows the vicious hierarchy within the Ministry of Education, but even this hierarchy crumbles before The Pure Hell of St Trinian’s. From director Frank Launder and written by Sidney Gilliat and Frank Launder.

The Great St Trinian’s Train Robbery (1966)

“It’s an orgy!”

“Lovely untamed egghead!”
“Just some young bucks visiting the sixth form, I expect.”
“They’re only a bunch of schoolkids.”
“10,000? That’s not a reward, that’s a deterrent .”

The Great St Trinian’s Train Robbery is the fourth and final film in the extremely popular St Trinian’s comedy series. For those who don’t know, St Trinian’s School for Girls was first created by cartoonist Ronald Searle, and the cartoons became the basis for the films.

When the film begins, St Trinian’s School for Girls is homeless once again–this is the result of three arson fires in four years. Currently camped out in an army barracks and “living like refugees,” the school is on the brink of collapse.

Meanwhile, it’s Election Night in Britain. With the advent of a new Labour Party Government, officials at the Ministry of Education (normally Tories) anticipate broad cuts in private schools, so a celebration is underway with the employees at the ministry partying the night away as they predict the closure of St Trinian’s, the notorious all-girls school. But it seems that the celebration is a little premature–little do they know that the headmistress, Amber Spottiswood (Dora Bryan) counts the new Labour Minister of Education as one of her many lovers.

With 80,000 pounds in hand (a grant from the very friendly Minister), Miss Spottiswood is able to revive St Trinian’s yet again. Miss Spottiswood purchases a new home, the abandoned Hamingwell Grange for her ‘progessive education’ school and summons her merry band of mistresses to join her. The Mathematics Mistress leaves her card-sharp life, the French Mistress creeps away from “modelling,” the Arts Mistress gives up stripping, the Games Mistress abandons the professional wrestling ring, and the Deputy Headmistress is released just in time from Holloway jail to join the rest of the crew.

As the St Trinian’s girls settle in their new home, they are blissfully unaware that 2.5 million pounds is secreted away in the cellar by a gang of thieves led by hairdresser Alphonse of Monte Carlo (Frankie Howerd). And it becomes Alphonse’s mission–guided by Mr. Big who sends messages through the salon’s sterilizer–to recoup the money. Meanwhile disgruntled school inspectors–convinced that orgies commence nightly at St Trinian’s–bravely volunteer for a secret mission…

This is the fourth–and unfortunately–the last film in the original St Trinian’s series, and the only colourized film in the bunch. Made in the 60s, it has a very different feel to the other St Trinian’s films, and as fans of British 60s comedies know, The Great St Trinian’s Train Robbery stars many of the great talents from that period–comedienne Dora Bryan as the dotty headmistress Amber Spottiswood is a joy to watch as she slips from her upper class accent (when she placates and manipulates the minister) to her working class voice as she empties the wallets of parents on Parents’ Day. Some of the best scenes involve Dora Bryan (her bedroom is decorated like a brothel) and her “mad Machiavellian minister.” Parents’ Day is an incredible event with the St Trinian’s girls at their worst as they fleece any parent they can. Lecherous Frankie Howerd is perfect as the obsequious, slimy hairdresser, Alphonse, who takes a turn as a Morris dancer and comedian Reg Varney appears in a small role as a crook. George Cole returns as Flash Harry, and this time he builds a bookie’s office with a special children’s entrance–and the office includes counters set at different heights so the smaller third form girls can bet their pocket money on the gee-gees too.

The film is a thinly veiled reference to the real Great Train Robbery that took place in 1963. One of the best things about the film is that it illustrates the girls’ resourcefulness and independence, so in the ‘bigger’ scheme of things, the ‘education in life’ that they receive at St Trinian’s is valuable. At no point in the film do the girls contact the ‘authorities’ for help, and the headmistress doesn’t hesitate to direct the girls in her schemes against anyone who threatens “our happy days.” The film also creates parallel scenes of the crooks gathering and the girls gathering, and the implication is that the girls of St Trinian’s form a larger, formidable gang. Check out the book titles for the school library; The Perfumed Garden, The Carpetbaggers, Fanny Hill and Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Great stuff–a classic–and a must-see for fans of 60s British comedy. Directed and written by the team Sidney Gilliat and Frank Launder.

Blue Murder at St Trinian’s (1957)

 “This is a girls’ school. Men ain’t safe here.”

Blue Murder at St Trinian’s is the second film in the extremely popular St Trinian’s series. St Trinian’s is an all-girls school that is the bane of the local police force, the dread of the townspeople, and the thorn in the side of everyone at the Ministry of Education. The St Trinian’s films echo the theme of the original cartoons created by Ronald Searle, and chronicle the madness and mayhem of the totally out-of-control girls’ school. While the prim and proper students of elite boarding schools learn such valuable social skills as deportment and dancing, the girls of St Trinian’s learn how to make explosives and bootleg gin. If you are interested in the St. Trinian’s films, and haven’t seen any yet, then I recommend beginning with The Belles of St Trinian’s and watching the films in the order they were made:

The Belles of St Trinian’s (1954)
Blue Murder at St Trinian’s (1957)
The Pure Hell of St Trinian’s (1960)
The Great St Trinian’s Train Robbery (1966)

Blue Murder at St Trinian’s begins with Miss Fritton (Alastair Sim) in prison. Meanwhile, the school’s resident fixer–Flash Harry (George Cole) is in control. Flash Harry has a number of business interests with the school–illegal gin, bookmaker for the 200 plus pupils, and now he also runs the St Trinian’s marriage bureau. Compiling albums of sexy photos featuring shapely 6th form St Trinian’s girls, Flash Harry then treks the globe to meet wealthy clients and arrange meetings. These arranged marriages work well for the girls as the unsuspecting foreigners have no clue about St Trinian’s stinky reputation, and so wealthy European males imagine that they are marrying the cream of delicate British womanhood while in reality, the wealthy families of Europe are slowly being seeded with delinquents.

Flash Harry’s latest customer is a wealthy Arab prince. The prince, while poring over photos of the long-legged lovelies, cannot decide which flower of British maidenhood to select as his bride, so he convinces Flash to agree to bring the girls over so that he can see them in the flesh. But how to pay for the trip? Flash Harry has a brainstorm. There’s a UNESCO essay competition that will send the winning school on a goodwill tour of Europe with stops at Paris, Florence and Rome. It would be a perfect opportunity to get The Ministry of Education to finance the trip, but there’s just one drawback, there’s no way that St Trinian’s will ever win that competition fair and square. They’ll have to resort to other means….

Meanwhile, St Trinian’s is without a headmistress. It seems that Miss Fritton is inexplicably detained at a ‘resort,’ and so the Ministry of Education employs a Dame Maud Hackshaw–otherwise–known as ‘Kill ‘em or Cure ‘em Hackshaw’–to replace Miss Fritton. But battleaxe Dame Maud (Judith Furse), who runs a Borstal-type institution has to sail from Australia (no one in England is daft enough to take the job). In the meantime, a state of siege has taken place at St Trinian’s with troops surrounding the school to maintain some sort of order. The troops are supposed to hold the fort until the headmistress arrives, but “the fiends in human form” test even the British Army’s mettle.

Dame Maud may be a dragon, but even years of experience with the delinquents of Australia find her woefully unprepared for the Girls of St Trinian’s. Luckily, or unluckily depending on your perspective, one of the girl’s fathers, Joe Mangan (played by Lionel Jefferies), a notorious jewel thief, hides out in St Trinian’s, and he finds himself enlisted as the new headmistress. Soon Mangan is on his way to Europe in drag while Dame Hackshaw is suitably…errr…retired.

One thing about St Trinian’s films: you only ever see fourth form and sixth form St Trinian’s girls. The fourth form mirror the original image created by Searle, messy, disheveled beasties who use violence to achieve their ends–whereas the sixth form are leggy, shapely beauties who use their sexuality to get their way. But where is the fifth form–the in-between stage of transformation when the fourth begin to morph into the sixth? The fifth is glaringly absent. Wisely, the films absent the fifth form and leave that transformation to the imagination.

Many of the familiar characters from The Belles of St Trinian’s appear in this film–Ruby Gates (Joyce Grenfell) is still engaged to Sgt. Sammy, Miss Fritton (Alastair Sim) sadly makes only a very brief appearance, and Flash Harry (George Cole) is still the shiftless, much-loved spectre who haunts the school grounds. This film, however, also showcases Terry-Thomas as the fortune-hunting, slightly seedy, bankrupt Dreadnought bus company owner, Romney. Romney is somewhat daunted by the prospect of driving the girls across Europe, but since he’s faced Rommel and the “Japs in Burma,” Romney accepts the job. Terry-Thomas, who was stricken later with Parkinson’s disease, is such a marvelous comedian, and this role is perfect for him. Romney sniffs that Ruby may be an heiress, and the scenes of Romney’s crafty romancing of poor Ruby Gates are priceless. The indomitable St Trinian’s school trip across Europe is hilarious, and their antics including hijacking a Mozart festival, the hospitalization of several dozen French schoolgirls, and the tour-de-force is the “liquid massacre” that takes place in Rome. I think the St Trinian’s Girls could give British football fans a run for their money.

From director Frank Launder, Blue Murder at St Trinian’s is written Frank Launder and Sidney Gilliat.

Jolly Hockeysticks!!

The Belles of St Trinian’s (1954)

 “I’ve been lenient with her to the point of imbecility.”

“The natives have risen, old sport.”
“I propose to storm the barricades.”
“I thought hockey was a game, but with you girls it’s more like jungle warfare.”
“You’ve no idea what’s going on in the summerhouse. It’s practically an orgy.”
“I’ve never seen such an exhibition of savagery.”

The Belles of St Trinian’s is the first of four British comedy films centered on the infamous girls boarding school, St Trinian’s. Cartoonist Ronald Searle created the idea of St. Trinian’s, and this first film appeared in 1954. These immensely popular films quickly earned cult status, and they remain some of my all-time favourite comedy films. The films appeared in this order:

The Belles of St Trinian’s (1954)
Blue Murder at St Trinian’s (1957)
The Pure Hell of St Trinian’s (1960)
The Great St Trinian’s Train Robbery (1966)

There have been some cheesy knock-off St Trinian’s films over the years, but in my mind, these films don’t ‘count,’ so they are not included here.

St Trinian’s is the antithesis of the snotty, private school for ‘young ladies.’ We tend to think of British schoolgirls as demure, obedient and well behaved. Well leave that idea behind and enter the World of St Trinian’s and see a very different sort of intrepid British schoolgirl. Indeed as Miss Millicent Fritton (Alistair Sim in drag) is fond of saying:

“In other schools girls are sent out quite unprepared into a merciless world, but when our girls leave here, it is the merciless world which has to be prepared.”

The Belles of St Trinian’s begins with a wealthy Arab sheik (Eric Pohlmann) deciding to send his precious daughter, Princess Fatima (Lorna Henderson) to a proper British boarding school, and the Princess’s current governess, dressed in modest tweeds, suggests sending the Princess to St Trinian’s–a school run by a former chum. The Sheik, blissfully unaware of the school’s awful reputation but impressed with the school’s proximity to the racetrack, agrees and little Fatima embarks for the boarding school.

Meanwhile back in England, it’s the start of a new school year with the return of the girls. Pandemonium reigns at the train station and locals who live in the nearby village board up their shop windows when news breaks of the girls’ imminent arrival. From the local police constabulary all the way to the Ministry of Education, St Trinian’s school is perceived as a blot on the British educational system. Indeed Superintendent Samuel ‘Sammy’ Kemp-Bird (Lloyd Lamble) would love to shut the place down, and Manton Bassett (Richard Wattis) at the Ministry of Education has sent a number of inspectors to the school, but attempts to reign in this out-of-control school for delinquents has led to the mysterious disappearance of several school inspectors, and the subsequent formation of a club known as ‘The Lotus Eaters’ in the school’s greenhouse. So the region suffers from an unchecked crime wave involving: “arson, forged fivers, poison pen letters.” Bassett and the police superintendent join forces and decide to send policewoman Ruby Gates (Joyce Grenfell) undercover into the school posing as games mistress, Chloe Crawley (she rapidly becomes known as Creepy Crawley).

St. Trinian’s is beleaguered by financial problems, and the headmistress, Miss Fritton, has been forced to pawn the school trophies, so it is with delight that the teachers and headmistress receive the wealthy Princess Fatima and her allowance of one hundred pounds. Clarence, Miss Fritton’s evil twin brother is an avid gambler, and he is also delighted that Fatima is attending the school. He intends–along with his daughter (another St Trinian’s pupil)–to nobble the Sheik’s horse, Arab Boy in the upcoming races and thereby win a bundle. To complicate matters, Miss Fritton also bets on Arab Boy to win.

Things turn ugly when the fourth form (who put aside their gin-making temporarily) battle against the sixth form, and it’s every man for himself on Parent’s Day when war wages between the besieged fourth formers and the aggressive sixth. Fortunately, a bus full of ‘old girls’ comes to the rescue armed with Zulu spears and shields.

Alastair Sim doubles for both the delightfully distracted Miss Fritton and her twin brother, the conniving Clarence. Miss Fritton has a marvelous way of ignoring the unpleasant aspects of the girls’ behaviour, chalking it up to ‘high spirits,’ and she positively encourages the St Trinian’s girls in their violent behavior during the hockey match. Joyce Grenfell is extremely funny as the besotted, long-suffering, lovelorn police woman Ruby Gates–persuaded against her better judgment to operate undercover as Creepy Crawlie, St Trinian’s Games Mistress. And George Cole is marvelous as Flash Harry–the odd character who haunts the bushes of St Trinian’s–and who imagines that he is the soul of discretion. I think he’s my favourite character in the entire film.

Keep your eyes open for comediennes Beryl Reid (Miss Wilson), Irene Handl (Miss Gale), and Joan Sims (Miss Dawn). Sid James also stars as Clarence’s side kick, Benny, and very young Barbara Windsor and Shirley Eaton appear as St Trinian’s girls. Directed by Frank Launder and with the script co-written by Sidney Gilliat and Frank Launder.

Happy-Go-Lucky (2008)

“Are you happy?

As a fan of Mike Leigh films, I watched Happy-Go-Lucky not sure exactly what to expect. I’d caught a few previews that showed a young, giddy teacher on the loose in a classroom, and I hoped the film wasn’t about one of those idealistic teachers who pulls a promising, but horrible damaged student from failure. I really hate those sorts of films.

Anyway, I should have had more faith in Mike Leigh. While I’m not exactly sure what the filmmaker wanted his audience to take away from the film, Leigh certainly didn’t make a trite clichéd film, and Happy-Go-Lucky is, instead, a unique character study.

When the film begins, 30-year-old teacher colourful, bubbly, quirky Poppy (Sally Hawkins) rides her bike to a bookshop and goes inside. Poppy tries to engage the morose shop assistant (Elliott Cowan) into idle, friendly chatter, and in spite of the fact that she throws herself into her goal of breaking the ice, the bookshop worker delivers only hard stares. He doesn’t want to be friendly and he isn’t even going to be polite.

By the end of the first scene, I knew that Poppy was someone I would inherently dislike. She’s annoying but more than that, she’s downright pushy, and she’s like this throughout the whole film. While Poppy argues that her demeanor is an attempt to be happy and to share happiness, I’d argue against that and say that Poppy doesn’t respect people’s boundaries. And this is particularly obvious in situations where Poppy pushes the limits with men–in the bookshop, for example, and with her driving instructor Scott. In both of these situations the men are trapped physically in their environments (the shop and the car) and cannot escape. With other people, Poppy’s pushiness is a bit subtler. There’s one scene when Poppy’s roommate, Zoe (Alexis Zegerman) is reading and Poppy interrupts her–even though Zoe sends out busy signals. There’s a moment when Zoe silently seems to make the decision to put her book aside (in spite of the fact she was enjoying it) and listen to Poppy.

Poppy’s effervescent personality may be a hit with Tim (Samuel Roukin) the social worker she chats up at school, but she seems to grate on her new driving instructor Scott (Eddie Marsan). Poppy gets under the skin of this sexually repressed racist, closet loon, and even though that is her intention in the first place, she seems genuinely stunned when he responds in an unpredictable fashion. The scenes between these two were simply hilarious as Poppy gets Scott’s goat and deliberately goads him. I can buy the idea that Poppy puts on a happy face for work; we all do that to a certain extent when dealing with the public, but in Poppy’s case it never ends, and in the relationship with her driving instructor, she seems to want him to blow a fuse and go postal.

One review I read mentioned that a negative reaction to Poppy’s personality says a great deal about that person, but I think that’s codswallop. While Poppy has a lot of positive traits in her constant quest to learn and enjoy life in the process, she is no respecter of other people’s boundaries and it doesn’t seem to occur to her that some people may be ill, grieving, distracted or perhaps have topics they don’t wish to discuss. We’ve all heard the term passive-aggressive, well I think Poppy is ecstatic-aggressive. She gets her way by being like a rowdy dog who’s just too happy to restrain herself from jumping up on the owner and knocking him down. I found Poppy to be a terribly annoying, clueless and irritating character–someone who insists on shoving her world vision onto everyone she meets–whether they want it or not. It’s probably a great thing that she meets the social worker–a man who literally speaks her language.

In spite of the fact I was ready to strangle Poppy fairly early on in the film, Happy-Go-Lucky was clever, marvelously entertaining and highly recommended for fans of Mike Leigh or lovers of character-driven films in general.

In the Doghouse (1961)

“He charged down the street and asked me if I’d seen a monkey in woman’s clothes.”

As a fan of Leslie Phillips, and 60-era British comedies, when I came across the title of an obscure little film called In The Doghouse, I knew I wanted to watch it. From director Darcy Conyers, the film stars the versatile Phillips as naïve, principled, and compassionate veterinarian Jimmy Fox-Upton.

When the story begins, Jimmy is attempting to pass the veterinary exams once again. Stuck in veterinary college for 10 years, he’s become something of a fixture and a joke to his professors and his fellow students. But this year is different; to everyone’s amazement, he manages to pass. Jimmy’s slimy classmate, Skeffington (James Booth) passes too, by cheating.

While the idealistic Jimmy graduates and buys a humble practice from a fumbling old codger, Skeffington sees the veterinary profession as a “racket” that he intends to milk to the hilt. Jimmy struggles with thoughtless owners and abandoned animals while Skeffington, just a few streets away, caters to the pampered pets of the rich. On one level Jimmy is envious of Skeffington’s plush headquarters (which even includes a psychiatric department), but he notes that it will take a lot of sick dogs to pay the bills. Ironically, it’s Jimmy who ends up before the veterinary board on a morals charge whereas Skeffington eludes disciplinary action for advertising.

The crafty, smoking-jacketed Skeffington flirts and coddles the wealthy matrons who visit his practice, and rips them off with fakery and glib persuasion while poor Jimmy struggles to keep patients. Eventually, however, Skeffington pushes his fakery too far and ends up mixed in a scheme to illegally export horses for the French meat trade.

Hattie Jacques stars as RSCPA officer Gudgeon, and gravelly-voiced Peggy Cummins appears as chimp handler, Sally. Lance Percival has a tiny role as a policeman, and Fenella Fielding appears as one of Skeffington’s customers.

In the Doghouse really is a marvelous, charming and funny film that includes some wonderful scenes. There’s one scene for example, in which Jimmy consoles pet owner Esma Cannon, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a remarkable, touching moment that illustrates the consoling role of pets in peoples’ lives. Other scenes involves a valiant Pekingese owned by one of Jimmy’s former professors.

But there’s even more to this film as it acts as a time capsule revealing laws and attitudes of the times, and at the date of this review, the film is 48 years old. Not only does the film reveal how much veterinary medicine has changed, but it also reveals how attitudes towards animal activism have changed. In the film’s final moments, Jimmy and his friends intervene in the shipment of horses destined for French cuisine. These animals are effectively liberated. Nowadays, Jimmy, Gudgeon and Sally would be labeled as terrorists and thrown in the slammer, and yet this film made in 1961, celebrates their humanity, their ingenuity and their courage. Makes you think, doesn’t it?