Make Mine Mink

Boarding-house types do a good turn for a lady ex-con and like the feel of it, stealing furs for charity as “Kensington types” and “superannuated beatniks” and police officers in military-style operations, the girl is off to marry her constable beau whilst they, warned off the fur racket, proceed on to the Tower.

A beautiful, rational analysis on quite another basis is carried out by Delbert Mann in Fitzwilly.

 

The Bulldog Breed

Lovesick swain joins Royal Navy, becomes first man in space.

A continuation of George Formby comedy on silent models with considerable breadth of interest, including Jerry Lewis and Termite Terrace.

The secondary point, argued at great length, is no university man Shakespeare, the primary England expects.

 

The Intelligence Men
or
M.I.5 plus 2 equals 0

For M.I.5, contre SCHLECHT.

Judo and the Ying Tong.

“Thank you, Mr. Do Do.”

You were tired of extra-flamboyant Mexican coffee bars with jumping frijol host, voilą, Cosmopolitan hols with Morecambe & Wise straight from the Cavendish Laboratory.

“Have you been here all the time, have I been chatting you up?”

SCHLECHT signifies “only criminals making money through the Cold War, surely.”

Robert Mitchum is in The Wonderful Country (dir. Robert Parrish) at the Roxy, to boot, where Eric on a secret rendezvous is seated between two lovebirds and Ernie is an usherette.

It ends at Covent Garden in Swan Lake.

“A feeble spy spoof,” says Time Out Film Guide, “a long way short of a classic.” Halliwell’s Film Guide offers this, “inept and rather embarrassing”.

 

The Early Bird

It begins with a routine on the morning routine, or why England slept.

The war on Grimsdale’s Dairy, a ten-street route in St. Godric’s, is recognizable from Fuller’s Park Row and Dearden’s The Smallest Show on Earth.

“Never as funny as it ought to be,” says Vic Pratt of the BFI, a completely reliable institution in that respect. Geoff Andrew of Time Out Film Guide finds “agony for the adult viewer.” Halliwell says it’s “overlong and mainly uninventive.”

Mr. Hunter of Consolidated Dairies has his Parthian shaft, “you horrible little vicar you!”