Not Now Darling
A contretemps. “I can see your pants have more than ants,” says the title number.
A masterpiece of the exorbitant, all balls flying everywhere but into pockets, nearly a split of Bodley & Bodley (“Furriers of Distinction”), but Crouch becomes Vice-Chairman and wins the secretary.
Mrs. Frencham’s ocelot, Commander Frencham “doesn’t know where to put it,” right off the bat it’s towed away, the business of adultery is so dicey and dear it’s farcical.
Wife and secretary and mistress all sorted out by play’s end in a mirror arrangement, not for money, not now.
“No, no, no, no! Th-the underwear has landed!”
Halliwell’s Film Guide hadn’t the foggiest, “interminable” is what it says.
The MultiVista technique gives a fair vantage on the precision cast at work.
Things have a way of disappearing on the London Transport, not just underthings, as it were, out the salon window.
“Hush money” comes after, inducements before.
West End success.