If the word "farce" hadn't existed before 1952, it would surely have been coined with this movie, or with the 1949 play on which it is based. Philip King (1904-79) wrote the play, called "On Monday Next." King was a playwright and actor, whose beginnings were very similar to the setting of this film. King lived in Brighton on the English Channel where he wrote most of his plays. He acted in some of his own and others, and his plays were often first performed in nearby Worthing.
This is a wonderfully wacky British comedy about theater in the old-time repertory companies of what one might call the "off-West End" or fringe theater of England (similar to America's off-Broadway). A stellar cast of comedy actors of the day adorn this film and give a hilarious peek at what staging a play might have been like in the towns and neighborhoods away from London's West End. That is, if the characters were like these. And, with leads, Robert Morley as W.H. Derwent Blacker, and Margaret Rutherford as Catherine Beckwith (pen name, Jeremy St. Clair), one knows to expect some fun.
Beckwith has spent seven years writing a play, and her nephew sits on the board of directors of the local theater. So, guess whose play is to be staged next? Only the assigned director for this play, Harry Blacker, thinks it stinks. But, he has no choice but to make something out of it. The cast has one week in which to learn, rehearse and put the play on. Morley's Blacker and Rutherford's Beckwith/St. Clair start out just a bit at odds. But, by film's end they are like two tornadoes colliding. I don't think I've ever seen another comedy in which the two leads have had a prolonged shouting match hurling insults back and forth. It is riotously funny.
The rest of the cast add to the humor and turmoil, and give good performances. Kay Kendall, Michael Medwin, Olive Sloane, Liam Gaffney and Lloyd Lamble head the supporting cast. Joan Hickson has a cameo appearance about midway as Harry Blacker's landlady. The film is all Morley and Rutherford, with Morley dominating the first two-thirds and Rutherford meekly going along. Morley's frequent understatements are a hoot. But the last third is mostly Rutherford as Beckwith/St. Clair takes over direction of her play when Harry falls off the stage and breaks his arm.
Watching this film, one has to wonder how this troupe could ever put on a play within a week. But the movie ends with the stage play being a hit. As they say in the theater, "The show must go on." And this one resembles a circus, from whence that phrase originated.
People who enjoy goofy, crazy and farcical comedy should enjoy this film immensely. Anyone who has worked in theater should get many laughs. Those who can't stand absurd silliness at times probably won't care for it. All others who don't fit in these three camps should enjoy it just for the occasional antics and funny lines peppered throughout. Here are some favorite lines.
Harry Blacker: When Mr. Bellamy forced me to stage your travesty... Catherine Beckwith/Jeremy St. Clair: Tragedy! Blacker: It may well prove so, madam.
Harry Blacker: When he forced me to stage "Tarnished Gold," we had a little chat. I told him what I thought about it. He told me what he thought about it. Oddly enough, our views differ. However, he did agree that if I should find a major fault, I should do my best to rectify it.
Beckwith/St. Clair: Well, that was a very kind thought of you. And did you find a major fault? Harry Blacker: So far, madam, only one. Beckwith: Good. What? Blacker: The first 27 pages.
Harry Blacker: I would have expected better of you, Jacko. Are you a stage manager or a fifth columnist?
Harry Blacker: Are you presuming to criticize my methods of production? Jackson: I can't. I've never seen them.
Harry Blacker: The audience, madam, will have left in a body after the first act. Forgive me, I shouldn't have said that. I'm overwrought. It's all gabble, gabble, gabble. Why do people have to write plays? Why do I have to direct them?
Harry Blacker: I was such a happy little boy.
Beckwith/St. Clair: Mr. Blacker, I have reached the limit of myself. I shall telephone my nephew. Harry Blacker: Ask him if he knows anything for the two-thirty, will you dear?
Sarah Stebbins: I do hope I'm not interrupting. Harry Blacker: Oh, not at all. This is strictly visitor's day.
Harry's Landlady: (after entering the theater, stomping up on stage and removing the lampshade which Blacker had retrieved from his apartment house) I've told you about this before. Harry Blacker: I can afford to ignore such vulgar interruptions. Strike my landlady off the "Free" list, and carry on.
This is a wonderfully wacky British comedy about theater in the old-time repertory companies of what one might call the "off-West End" or fringe theater of England (similar to America's off-Broadway). A stellar cast of comedy actors of the day adorn this film and give a hilarious peek at what staging a play might have been like in the towns and neighborhoods away from London's West End. That is, if the characters were like these. And, with leads, Robert Morley as W.H. Derwent Blacker, and Margaret Rutherford as Catherine Beckwith (pen name, Jeremy St. Clair), one knows to expect some fun.
Beckwith has spent seven years writing a play, and her nephew sits on the board of directors of the local theater. So, guess whose play is to be staged next? Only the assigned director for this play, Harry Blacker, thinks it stinks. But, he has no choice but to make something out of it. The cast has one week in which to learn, rehearse and put the play on. Morley's Blacker and Rutherford's Beckwith/St. Clair start out just a bit at odds. But, by film's end they are like two tornadoes colliding. I don't think I've ever seen another comedy in which the two leads have had a prolonged shouting match hurling insults back and forth. It is riotously funny.
The rest of the cast add to the humor and turmoil, and give good performances. Kay Kendall, Michael Medwin, Olive Sloane, Liam Gaffney and Lloyd Lamble head the supporting cast. Joan Hickson has a cameo appearance about midway as Harry Blacker's landlady. The film is all Morley and Rutherford, with Morley dominating the first two-thirds and Rutherford meekly going along. Morley's frequent understatements are a hoot. But the last third is mostly Rutherford as Beckwith/St. Clair takes over direction of her play when Harry falls off the stage and breaks his arm.
Watching this film, one has to wonder how this troupe could ever put on a play within a week. But the movie ends with the stage play being a hit. As they say in the theater, "The show must go on." And this one resembles a circus, from whence that phrase originated.
People who enjoy goofy, crazy and farcical comedy should enjoy this film immensely. Anyone who has worked in theater should get many laughs. Those who can't stand absurd silliness at times probably won't care for it. All others who don't fit in these three camps should enjoy it just for the occasional antics and funny lines peppered throughout. Here are some favorite lines.
Harry Blacker: When Mr. Bellamy forced me to stage your travesty... Catherine Beckwith/Jeremy St. Clair: Tragedy! Blacker: It may well prove so, madam.
Harry Blacker: When he forced me to stage "Tarnished Gold," we had a little chat. I told him what I thought about it. He told me what he thought about it. Oddly enough, our views differ. However, he did agree that if I should find a major fault, I should do my best to rectify it.
Beckwith/St. Clair: Well, that was a very kind thought of you. And did you find a major fault? Harry Blacker: So far, madam, only one. Beckwith: Good. What? Blacker: The first 27 pages.
Harry Blacker: I would have expected better of you, Jacko. Are you a stage manager or a fifth columnist?
Harry Blacker: Are you presuming to criticize my methods of production? Jackson: I can't. I've never seen them.
Harry Blacker: The audience, madam, will have left in a body after the first act. Forgive me, I shouldn't have said that. I'm overwrought. It's all gabble, gabble, gabble. Why do people have to write plays? Why do I have to direct them?
Harry Blacker: I was such a happy little boy.
Beckwith/St. Clair: Mr. Blacker, I have reached the limit of myself. I shall telephone my nephew. Harry Blacker: Ask him if he knows anything for the two-thirty, will you dear?
Sarah Stebbins: I do hope I'm not interrupting. Harry Blacker: Oh, not at all. This is strictly visitor's day.
Harry's Landlady: (after entering the theater, stomping up on stage and removing the lampshade which Blacker had retrieved from his apartment house) I've told you about this before. Harry Blacker: I can afford to ignore such vulgar interruptions. Strike my landlady off the "Free" list, and carry on.