Eine schreckliche Entdeckung

Leo McKern plays Professor Bowles-Ottery, a scientist who has developed a serum that makes lab rats go wild with euphoria...then drop dead. He begins to wonder how that wonder drug might be put to use on larger subjects, such as the town gossip and the professor who stands in the way of his promotion at St. Simeon's University.

The result is a black comedy that isn't completely satisfying, but does provide some good laughs along the way, especially for McKern fans.

Written by the man who did the script for KIND HEARTS AND CORONETS, and directed by film and TV veteran Don Chaffey (who directed McKern in one of his memorable appearances on THE PRISONER), the film is loaded with great British character actors: Mervyn Johns, John Sharp, Leonard Rossiter, Miles Malleson, Dennis Price, and the slinky Janet Munro, who you might remember from SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON or THE CRAWLING EYE. A breezy score by John Barry adds the right touch, with organ solos by Alan Haven and guitar by Vic (007 Theme) Flick.

Not as cute and innocent as the 1950s Ealing comedies, and with some serious scenes involving the love triangle between McKern, his wife (Maxine Audley) and Munro, A JOLLY BAD FELLOW is hard to categorize, but easy to enjoy. Working against the enjoyment factor is the horrible, damaged print used to make the DVD, with portions of the credits missing (as well as bits of shots here and there) and loads of scratches and blemishes.

Once a luvvy always a luvvy: Leo McKern inevitably made no mention of this film in his autobiography despite it being the only time he was trusted with the lead in a feature film; a challenge to which he rose with flying colours.

Based on a screenplay by Robert Hamer - presumably by then too drunk to actually direct the film - Don Chaffey proved a worthy replacement. While the cast includes two veterans of 'Kind Hearts and Coronets'; with Maxine Audley as McKern's wife showing a remarkable ability to tolerate hubby's little foibles.

Garnished with a sardonic depiction of office politics among academia, benefiting from an uncharacteristic John Barry score, it deserves to be much better known.

"A Jolly Bad Fellow" follows the exploits of a cynical middle-aged don (Leo McKern) at an Oxbridge-like university. A scientist, with a cold-bloodedly rationalist outlook, he is at odds with his other dons, a collection of fusty classicists who view him as an interloper. An accidental discovery by his dim-witted lab assistant (Dinsdale Landen) provides him with the means to neutralise those who stand in the way of the academic preferment he seeks. His long-suffering but loving wife (Maxine Audley) tries to overlook his philanderings, not least his liaison with a pretty young female research assistant (Janet Munro).

The film is a curious hybrid. Made at the very start of the swinging 60s, it is nevertheless reminiscent of the earlier Ealing films, of which it is a late example, not least "Kind Hearts and Coronets". There are, however, fleeting contemporary references (to Cliff Richard - a few months later it would have been The Beatles), and Janet Munro, in an adulterous seaside assignation, looks every inch the proto-dolly bird as she strolls along the sea-front, arm-in-arm with her ageing lover.

With a distinguished supporting cast that includes Dennis Price (as an especially pompous fellow academic), "A Jolly Bad Fellow" is at once an amusing and disturbing black comedy. Fans of John Barry will enjoy the superb soundtrack, featuring Alan Haven on organ, which stylistically prefigures that of "The Knack".

At least three people had a hand writing this: original director Robert Hamer adjusted Donald Taylor's screenplay, which was based on C. E. Vulliamy's 1955 novel, "Don Among the Dead Men." Did someone along the way excise the cutting edge? Or was it never there to begin with?

A university don toying with toxins in his chem lab discovers a traceless poison and starts bumping off people who annoy him: the smalltown gossip (Patricia Jessel), a rival don, then another (Dennis Price), and his too clever by half mistress (Janet Munro). The tone is comic, and if you accept the smug, married, adulterous sociopath as anti-hero, you might still wonder whether to laugh or cry.

Leo McKern in bow tie with furled umbrella, or amongst the bunson burners, offers a comic peekaboo at the fiddlings of a biochemical research process. He makes white rats dance to his alchemical tune and fall comatose, given the right dosage... then, heigho, it's on to anyone who thwarts his ambitions.

The model of a modern amoral biochemist, the serial poisoner is a resonant cautionary tale, but he never achieves full-blown comic mania. An industrial scale might be required to incite an audience to sit up and howl. Alec Guinness in The Man in the White Suit (1951) had a larger budget.

The depiction of common room, pub, seaside getaway, high street flower shop, et al, is charming. There's a generous smattering of capable character actors not given enough to do. An exception is Patricia Jessel, whose busybody lush in denial is the only fully developed cameo. In fact, it's the women - Jesell, Munro, and Maxine Audley as the wife, who move things along. The print is bad but clear enough.