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Everyone may know William Friedkin for "The French Connection" and "The Exorcist", but this gem from before his heyday will always come to my mind. During the movie's first few minutes, you're not exactly sure where it's going, but then we meet Rachel Schpitendavel (Britt Ekland), an Amish woman who has just arrived in 1920's New York City. Not quite sure where to go in this bustling metropolis, she goes to Billy Minsky's Burlesque House. Of course, she doesn't know that burlesque involves some stuff that is perpetually anathema to the Amish lifestyle. But performer Raymond Paine (Jason Robards Jr) sees some real potential in her. Meanwhile, there are two forces at work against Rachel's potential success: her father has arrived in town to take her back to the farm, and the police are seeking to shut down the burlesque house.

Overall, "The Night They Raided Minsky's" is one of those nostalgia pieces that always has something coming. Interestingly, it was also a debut and farewell: Elliott Gould made his film debut playing Billy Minsky, and Bert "Cowardly Lion" Lahr plays a role too (he actually died while they were filming). Maybe this movie's not a masterpiece, but it's truly got something for everyone. Cool.

Following the 12 Norman Wisdom vehicles I watched during the course of the last 2 weeks, I decided to add to them his only American film. A nostalgic piece about vaudeville in New York's lower East Side in the 1920s, perhaps the film's single greatest asset is its remarkable recreation of that era; amazingly, the inspired transition from black-and-white photos of the period to the film itself seems to have been a happy accident which occurred during the editing process!

The IMDb also noted that the film's preview was a disaster and that editor Ralph Rosenblum employed more than a year of his life to try and save it!; I have no idea how Friedkin's 'original' version looked like but the finished product is a very enjoyable film indeed, if somewhat shapeless (featuring too many 'girlie' shows, for instance, though the music by Charles Strouse is admirably 'of the period'): the plot concerns the goings-on in a second-rate (self-proclaimed "The Poor Man's Follies") burlesque theater whose lease is about to expire and the manager (Elliott Gould) - with the help of his two star comedians (Jason Robards and Wisdom) - has to devise a plan to hold on to his venue; the solution arrives in the shapely form of a naïve Midwestern girl (Britt Ekland), an aspiring dancer but whose debut performance is turned via a series of incidents into the first-ever striptease act!

Friedkin managed to come up with a splendid cast: while Robards may be too stern for the 'leading man' figure (who falls for Ekland's ingénue), he's got some of the film's best lines; Ekland herself is delightful, particularly during the literally show-stopping climax; Wisdom's moving but unsentimental performance makes the most of his 'comic sidekick' role, emphasizing the character's humanity (realizing Ekland's inaptness at performing on stage, he patiently schools her) and feelings (he secretly loves her too but since Ekland prefers Robards herself, he's happy to leave her to his pal).

The supporting cast, then, is a pure delight: Forrest Tucker (as a gangster with a share in the theater), Elliott Gould (playing, as already mentioned, the flustered but inexperienced manager who's entirely dependant on his star attractions), Joseph Wiseman (as Gould's bemused Jewish father, the owner of the theater who's intent on its foreclosure because he disapproves of the style of his son's shows!), Harry Andrews (sporting a wicked beard and exaggerated eye-brows to match as Ekland's Amish father, who arrives in New York in order to claim back his wayward daughter), Denholm Elliott (hilarious as a Vice Squad official whose presence at the theater is recurrent so as to fervently jot down all form of lewdness and general unwholesomeness he happens to notice going on, in preparation for an eventual Police raid...which, naturally happens on "The Night They Invented Striptease", as the film was alternately called!) and Bert Lahr (as, more or less, the Chorus to the narrative but whose role was considerably diminished because, sadly, he passed away in mid-production!). Perhaps the film's funniest moment is the confrontation scene between Wiseman and Andrews (with the former telling the latter that "The only God who could tolerate me is the only one who could tolerate you!"), after which their joint prayer for their children's souls is interrupted by the perpetually awkward Elliott, who's forced to accompany them but is clearly lost!

Unfortunately, the film was recorded off what has to be the sloppiest channel on Cable TV; in fact, the screening froze at one point and the reception was subsequently lost for a brief instance!

Although the story line of The Night They Raided Minsky's was more silly than funny, quite a few laughs can still be had from this salute to the good old days of burlesque. It even has Bert Lahr in the cast who was a veteran of that venue of entertainment.

Amish girl fresh off the farm Britt Eklund has been given a calling to dance a practice forbidden by her sect. But even with father Harry Andrews in pursuit from the Pennsylvania Dutch Country, Britt is pursuing her dream of interpretive religious dance. Why she didn't seek out Martha Graham instead of Minsky's is beyond me.

Her innocence is so beguiling she has comedy team Jason Robards, Jr., and Norman Wisdom panting after her in heat. Gangster Forrest Tucker is looking and even Elliott Gould who is the Minsky who runs the burlesque theater on property his father owns hasn't missed her at all.

I did love Jason Robards who apparently has a line for just about every occasion and whose gift of gab gets him out of some tight spots. And Denholm Elliott the pompous moralizing professional do-gooder also has some noticeable moments.

This film was Bert Lahr's farewell performance. Lahr was terminally ill when he did the film and didn't finish his role and it was edited around. He doesn't look very good and is remarkably subdued from the Bert Lahr were used to seeing.

Weakest part of the film was the musical score by Strouse and Adams. They've done far better on Broadway, still it's serviceable enough and Eklund's alleged invention of the striptease worth the wait.

Fans of the cast members will like The Night They Raided Minsky's.

And I mean that most sincerely, this is one of the great films of the 1960s, charting the last days of the burlesque music-hall theatricals in America. The plot of the film is something of a mish-mash, mixing up Britt Ekland as an Amish runaway who finds herself onstage, with Denholm Elliot as a moralistic do-gooder trying to close down Minsky's theatre, but in truth, as with a large number of films of the period (see also The Pink Panther films), the plot is merely a convenience, a washing line upon which to hang a large number of characters, theatrical set-pieces and little illustrations of life in and around the theatrical world. A host of fine actors grace the screen, with Elliot Gould making an early appearance as Minsky jr, Harry Andrews as Ekland's glowering father, Joseph Wiseman as Minsky sr and most affectingly, Bert Lahr in his final screen performance. Even Ekland is OK, and it takes a lot to say that. But at the centre of it all are Jason Robards and Norman Wisdom as the theatre's chief comedy double-act. An odd pairing that works amazingly well, with Robards an effectively sleezy straight man (his seduction of Ekland is both funny and stomach churning). But if Robards is good, Wisdsom is fantastic, his comedic skills honed in England finally being given full rein (I enjoy a lot of his British films, but few of them really allow him full use of his abilities), and the song and dance routine and when he defines burlesque to Ekland rank as his finest on-screen moments. it's a bitter shame that the failure of this film and personal circumstances forced him to leave Hollywood, because with the right material he could have gone so much further. Truth is, if you have no sympathy for this sort of material, this will not change your mind. But for an utterly unique film, packed with beautiful little minutiae of theatrical life and a great mix of dark humour and bawdy comedy, this is really something to be cherished.

A gorgeous Amish girl, Rachel (Britt Ekland) leaves the sect and comes to New York to dance, and winds up at Minsky's Burlesque House in "The Night They Raided Minsky's." Wide-eyed and innocent, she explains that she dances to portions of the Bible. When she shows what she can do, well, it's not burlesque.

But this gives Raymond (Jason Robards), one of the comics, an idea. A group wants to close down the burlesque house because they think the numbers are indecent. If they announce a star from Paris, Madame Fifi, and send Rachel out with her Bible dances right as the place is being raided, it should put an end to the raids.

Meanwhile, Rachel's father (Harry Andrews) is looking for her.

This is a wonderful cast that includes, besides those mentioned, Elliot Gould, Forrest Tucker, Bert Lahr, and Denholm Elliot I guess I thought there would be a little more story to this film, instead of so many burlesque numbers. It's just a matter of taste. I've just never been that fond of burlesque.

Sadly Bert Lahr died during this film, so his part was shortened and he was replaced.

The end is very good, with the invention of the striptease. If you're a fan of burlesque, you will love this film.

This is reportedly something of an orphan work. Friedkin adapted the book of the same name by Rowland Barber through his trio of screenwriters, Normal Lear, Sidney Michaels, and Arnold Schulman, shot it, test screened it, and then largely abandoned it after the test screening was a disaster. The editor, Ralph Rosenblum, then took a year in the editing boy changing everything around to the final form that was eventually released. That final form is still a decent mess, but it does have some entertaining aspects as it goes along. Still, it's interesting to see Friedkin's love of theater extending further with this love-letter to burlesque.

A young Amish girl, Rachel (Britt Ekland) arrives in New York in 1925 to be a dancing girl. She heads towards the Minsky theater, owned by Louis Minsky (Joseph Wiseman), managed and leased to his son Billy (Elliot Gould), and starring the double act of Raymond (Jason Robards) and Chick (Norman Wisdom). The first half or so of the film is where it operates best as we get introduced to a wide cast of characters (too wide, which is a problem for the film) and see the colorful display of burlesque numbers with a dozen women and entertaining vaudeville bits. If there is a central character, I'd have to settle on the top-billed Robards as Raymond, the straight-man in the double act, who zeroes in on Rachel as a conquest, comes up with the plan to save Minsky's from the overzealous vice officer Vance (Denholm Elliott) by setting him up to think Rachel is a new French striptease act when she's actually only going to dance Bible stories, and gets the biggest final emotional moment at the end of the film. I prefer watching Chick, though. He's the nice guy who pines after Rachel and has an arc about standing up for himself which is quite nice.

There's a number in the first half that encapsulates both men rather well. They've established who they are, with Norman telling Chick that he has the perfect qualities for a dog but the worst for a man, followed up by a number on the stage where we see that play out. It fits both the in-universe world of what could be in the burlesque show while enhancing the character moment we've just seen before. It's solid musical film construction. However, the ensemble nature of everything ends up working against the whole of the film as there's never any real focus. It works decently well in the opening when we're getting this flurry of activity, but when things need to start moving towards a dramatic point, the overindulgence begins to work against the film. It might work better in the original novel (I'll probably never find out), but the film just struggles under the weight.

First, there's the love triangle between Raymond, Chick, and Rachel which changes into a love triangle between Raymond, Rachel, and a mob boss that Billy approaches for a cash infusion so he can buy the theater from his father since his father is going to end the lease. That just feels like too much on its own. But then we also have the appearance of Rachel's father, Jacob (Harry Andrews), who wants to drag Rachel back to their hamlet in Pennsylvania. There's a bunch of business around his religious views, her religious views, a bunch of unexplained stuff about how she views technology okay even though she doesn't seem to have a break with Amish beliefs at the same time. It's overstuffed and underdone, is what I'm saying.

It all heads towards the grand finale, predicated in the film's opening text, that there's a striptease to be had, and it's helped by the fact that Britt Ekland is pretty and has a good film presence. She plays this awkward display, after fights with just about everyone because she figures out it's a ruse, her father shows up, and everyone forgets good, ole, Chick. Considering all of the other business that has led up to this moment, it's weird to focus so much on a bit of titillation. I get the feeling that if this had been one of just another musical number, it might have worked better, but everything leading up to this felt bigger. It's kind of weird to end smaller visually like that with just a girl in a black dress ripping lines in her skirt compared to the larger numbers that preceded it.

Friedkin filmed this before The Birthday Party but it was released afterwards because the studio gave Rosenblum all the time he wanted to salvage the film. Friedkin even went so far as to disown the film for decades, only really viewing it with something like an even-headed approach decades after its release, finding moments to enjoy. I think the entertainment is in those moments with Rosenblum's efforts to modernize the footage being interesting but ultimately a somewhat empty effort. I think it's largely papering over the overstuffed nature of the footage underneath. The experience is more interesting with Rosenblum's efforts, but there was only so much that he could do.

So, I actually have some affection for what's going on. The underlying footage has some charm. The editing is interesting. However, there's just too much going on, it doesn't come to a satisfying conclusion, and it's just kind of a mess. Still, it's not exactly terrible.

Britt Ekland stars as an Amish girl in early 1900s New York City who gets a job dancing at a vaudeville theater and inadvertently creates the striptease one night on stage. Revue-styled hodgepodge isn't very compelling on an emotional level, and the solid cast (Jason Robards, Elliott Gould, Bert Lahr in his final film) has next to nothing to work from, but what a presentation! The director, a green but hungry William Friedkin, attacks the nostalgia inherent in the project and grabs the audience by the eyeballs. Everything flies passed Friedkin's camera: comedy, drama, sentiment, loss, pain, triumph. It's the giddy work of a kid in a candy store. As a character study, the movie does fall short--the screenplay is too thin to flesh out any of the people involved--however it is certainly a handsome attempt. ** from ****

Just a mere coffee break before William Friedkin made an almost consecutive string of such searing naturalistic dramas as The Boys in the Band, The French Connection, The Exorcist and Sorcerer, he showed up with The Night They Raided Minsky's, a low-brow farce which belongs in the pantheon of other throwback vaudevillian screwball romps from the Technicolor 1960s and early '70s, as in Take the Money and Run, the Pink Panther films, What's New Pussycat, It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World, Bananas and What's Up, Doc? It shares the lagging sense of pace that some of them do---cursing those with one major inferiority to the 1930s and '40s pictures they embrace---as well as the urge to take what could be effective scenes and mash them into clunky montages. It also cannot remotely compare to What's Up, Doc?, the crowning achievement of this trend of the era helmed by Friedkin's New Hollywood rival Peter Bogdanovich. But The Night They Raided Minsky's is not without a secure handling of its risqué content by a director who was hungry for big risks in a period of American cinema where progress was entirely fueled by them.

Instrumental in the commercial transformation of Hollywood in only a few short years, Friedkin's films often display a cold cynicism which belies the popular appeal of his future short-lived commercial success. The Night They Raided Minsky's is of a completely different spirit. It is a star-studded ensemble farce, fueled not so much by the breathtaking nature of any scene or story point but by the archetypal bearings of its performers. We have Elliott Gould delightfully playing up his deeply recognized Jewish identity, Denholm Elliott lovingly drawing from his always readily apparent English manners, Jason Robards working his all-American common-man staple. But whether stand-alone scenes work in and of themselves or not, the movie altogether truly appears to grasp this most-American art form.

Supposedly, burlesque surged in an era when America was at the onset of the modern moral uprising, when the rural Puritan standards and the makeshift culture of the cities came across one another. Burlesque was basically vaudeville and sex, and in the early days the sex was straightforward, guileless and practically inoffensive. This is the charm of this film, not the pratfalls, the jokes or the farce, even when they work well, which is where Friedkin's stamp really shows itself: Like a Friedkin picture, it is about more than it acts like it is. Friedkin recounts that very period, when there was an exhilaration and flourishing, boisterous burlesque that later vanished. His characters live a talkative, communal life, occupying cafeterias and eating outlandish, hysterically filmed meals. They view burlesque not so much as a profession, more a lifestyle.

The plot involves a young Amish girl played by Swedish future Bond doll Britt Ekland, who comes to the big city and is overwhelmed by the flashing marquees. The film opens with Rudy Vallee telling us in a vaudeville style that what we're about to see is based on "really true incidents that actually happened," that "in 1925 there was this real religious girl…this real religious girl." Black-and-white images of Model A's on hectic streets, a dancing horse, acrobats, and numerous other impressions whip by, ultimately beholding a lively market street teeming with peddlers and pushcarts that bursts into color. There's a close-up on Ekland riding in bright-eyed on an el train. Her point-of-view peering out at the tenement-lined street erupts from black-and-white to color, as does her making her way down that street. She imbibes the zest and ambiance of a novel world, swarming but exhilarating. Austere gray skies but a vividm multihued event interspersed by more color swings visually signifying her inexperience.

Friedkin captures her coming in his naturalistic style of pursuing and exposing action. Her discovery of countless faces, vendors, merchants and ultimately the Minky's Burlesque Theater, is our discovery, too. We become partakers rather than just watchers. And the awareness to minutiae webs with our point-of-view on the marquee dropping to show Bert Lahr chomping a cigar, about to befriend the virginal greenhorn whose perspective we've shared.

She longs to dance at Minsky's. She is fought over by two comics (Norman Wisdom and Jason Robards), bird-dogged by her bearded, religious zealot father, and she suddenly, unwittingly and yet glamorously pioneers the striptease. And that moment when she finally invents the strip dance mostly to defy her father and other possessive male figures speaks so many volumes about the futility of utter conservatism and fundamentalism, how the more it pushes and the more it engulfs, the more shocking and extreme each explosion of rebellion and revolution will be, which of course is not to say that the scene itself threatens anything over PG-13 material, but the subtext is there.

Friedkin has intentionally employed stereotypes in casting. Ekland is as dovelike and guileless as Joan of Arc and her father is an emigrant from an Early Renaissance allegorical drama. So the story itself takes on some of the reduction and directness of the burlesque skits which freely exposes the action, which tends to compensate for the film's weakness since the editing often becomes a bit too unnecessarily frenzied rather than gazing decisively on the impact of a given image or scene.

We watched this as its the 100th anniversary of the real raid at Minsky's. I previously watched it on TV but it was missing the almost two full seconds that could not be shown on TV. Although this is based on a real incident, it is only superficially based on fact.

While the movie's story is the events that lead to the raid, most (or so it seemed) of the film is the comedy and dancing of a burlesque show. Unfortunately, we didn't think the comedy funny. We were not entertained by the dancing. Was it funny & entertaining back in 1925? Was it in 1968? Maybe, but this is 2025.

The acting was alright. The story was just okay. The movie was barely watchable.

Why doesn't everybody just love this movie? It is one of most delightful comedies that I have ever seen. I saw it when it first came out in the cinema and watched it three times that first week and at least four times since.

It is a very stylized movie, with an introductory narration right out of the 1920's. The style carries right through the film, with wonderful vaudeville routines. The "girls" are not particularly beautiful and are, by current standards a little overweight. Also they seem to be going through the motions with a variety of personalities. They do not have beautiful singing voices and they do not dance in perfect synchronization but nobody, especially them, seems to care. Burlesque is, after all, light entertainment. The comedy skits are very simple and unintelligent but they are performed with great panache. Sir Norman Wisdom (born 1915), the great British stage and screen clown of the Charlie Chaplin ilk, and Jason Robards Jr., the dapper Oscar-winning, American actor of the classic stage are the two central male characters and are both attracted to the beautiful Amish girl who has left home to dance stories from the Bible on stage. Wisdom is a master clown and can move in ways that are magically humorous. Burlesque has two meanings, with two spellings: - a humorous and provocative stage show featuring slapstick humour, comic skits, bawdy songs, striptease acts, and a scantily clad female chorus. (Burlesk) - an artistic composition, especially literary or dramatic, that, for the sake of laughter, vulgarizes lofty material or treats ordinary material with mock dignity. (Burlesque) The movie is a burlesque about burlesk. It also makes fun of religion, stage performances, censorship, prudery, friendship, business, fraud, crime, police, audience intelligence, class distinction, love, seduction, hypocrisy, etc. The mood is intense from start to finish, with several collages of scenes from the past and the movie's present. When I was not laughing out loud, I was laughing inside. The comedy on the stage is very elementary but the comedy in the story is often quite subtle and intelligent. Back to the initial question — I think that the movie may be too stylized for many people to enjoy, especially since the style has long been almost extinct. But if one accepts the style and allows oneself to become immersed in it and flow with it, the movie can be great.

I only saw this once and it was okay. The real interesting thing about this is the story around its editing, which is told in Ralph Rosenblum's book WHEN THE SHOOTING STOPS... He and Norman Lear had to dig up tons of old stock footage to insert into the cut in order to make it palatable.

It's set in 1925 New York City and provides a fictional account of the beginning of striptease burlesque. It's based on the 1960 novel by the same name by Rowland Barber.

Rachel Schpitendavel (Britt Ekland) is an Amish girl from Smoketown, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, who comes to New York City to dance. She has learned to dance in Pennsylvania but only sedate pieces that illustrate Bible stories. She discovers Minsky's Burlesque and is charmed by what she observes there.

Along the way, she interacts with the owner, Billy Minsky (Elliott Gould); the lead comedian, Chick (Norman Wisdom); the lead straight man, Raymond (Jason Robards); and the gangster, Trim (Forrest Tucker). Chick, Raymond, and Trim all pursue the naïve Rachel. Minsky's is also harrassed by Vance Fowler (Denholm Elliott), the secretary of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice, who frequently threatens to have the place raided.

Although Billy and Raymond recognize that Rachel can't really dance, they decide to set her up in a midnight show advertised as bringing Madam Fifi from Paris in a dance that "drove a thousand Frenchmen wild," while she actually does her Bible dance. The goal is to embarrass Vance, who plans a raid when he hears of the "French" dancer.

Meanwhile, Rachel's father, Jacob (Harry Andrews), shows up and tries to force Rachel to return home.

At the end of the film, Rachel does dance, the raid takes place, and the striptease is born.

The film is amusing but dated. Slapstick can be fun when you're in the mood, but it is so Three Stooges.

Everyone in the film is caricatured, especially Rachel and her father. Rachel doesn't look Amish when she arrives in the city. Jacob does look a little more Amish since he has a beard but no mustache. Rachel describes some aspects of Amish life correctly (no buttons or electricity) and occasionally references the Bible, but has no Amish traits. No one would mistake her as Amish. Jacob is a rigid, stupid man who is simply a foil for the New Yorkers.

This was Elliott Gould's screen debut. The main characters play their roles well.

Maybe Norman Lear cared enough about the Lower East Side's famous burlesque house to write an entire film about it. I still can't believe he found the money to produce it. Or that it got distribution.

Who cares about a terrible comedian and his equally unfunny partner. Or their affairs. Or the difficulties of running a joint like this.

Perhaps in 1968 burlesque shows were still so lame that the shtick shown here was t1tillating. Or there were enough geezers going to the movies who found Doris Day too straight-laced. My guess is that about 35 people went to see this movie in some rundown Times Square theatre on its opening weekend and word-of-mouth killed it dead before Monday.

This film succeeds in both areas, comedy and nostalgia. It captures the period it portrays in wonderful fashion, with a very enthusiastic cast. I consider it one of the best cast movies I've ever seen, from the lead actors to the bit roles. Many classic burlesque routines are included, some of them done on the burlesque stage and some worked into the movie's dialogue. If you're in the mood for a comedy with a bit of feeling for another period in abundance, you can't do much better than this!

This movie captures the time period so beautifully and is the only movie I've ever seen that does so with this genre, it must be accepted as exceptional. The cinematography is very good, the acting excellent, the story very good, and the music perfect. The final touches are real burlesque acts in their entirety, great side acts not part of the stage yet depicting burlesque, great tension (the Amish father, Minskys father, and the threat of closing the theater down for moral reasons), and most of all seeing the movie through the eyes of a titillated Amish virgin, create the kind of perfection rarely seen in cinema. I saw this movie 35 years ago and forgot about it. I just viewed it and realize it deserves to be recognized as exceptional. Not a discarded movie rarely seen on cable.

The lights dim. The curtain goes up. The girls are on stage. The spot hits the tux-wearing tenor, silver haired and a little plump.

"I have a secret recipe / Concocted with much skill / And once you've tried my special dish / You'll never get your fill...

"Take ten terrific girls, but only nine costumes, and you're cooking up something grand..."

The Night They Raided Minsky's is a valentine to the long-gone burlesque houses of the Twenties. Naughty, bawdy and surprisingly innocent, filled with chorus girls who might generously be called a little past their prime, with plenty of belly work, with comedians and their second bananas, with pratfalls, seltzer bottles and song and dance acts. This Norman Lear/William Friedkin/Ralph Rosenblum movie has it all. It even has a story. Most of all, it has some great songs by Charles Strouse and Lee Adams, wonderful performances by Jason Robards and Norman Wisdom, and a collection of pungent characters played by the likes of Elliot Gould, Forrest Tucker, Bert Lahr, Harry Andrews, Joseph Wiseman, Jack Burns, Denholm Elliot and Dexter Maitland. And we're there when history is made, as Britt Ekland playing an innocent Amish girl from Smoketown, Pennsylvania, who longs to perform her Bible dances on stage, inadvertently invents the strip tease.

Billy Minsky runs Minsky's Burlesque. Vance Fowler, secretary of New York's Society for the Suppression of Vice, is determined to close it down. Then Rachel Elizabeth Schpitendavel shows up. She's young. She's innocent. She's built. She catches the eye of headliner Raymond Paine (Jason Robards), a song, dance and straight man who works with his second banana, the small, mild and fall-down physical Chick Williams (Norman Wisdom). Paine wants Rachel to fall into his bed. Chick just falls for Rachel. Minsky's, however, is on the verge of closing. Then Raymond has an idea. They'll advertise a midnight show featuring Mademoiselle Fifi, "the hottest little cooch artist in the world." When Fowler shows up with the cops, Fifi will be Rachel doing her Bible dances. Fowler will be a laughing stock and Minsky's will be saved.

Now forget all that. What's important is the sweet nature of this burlesque gift. Most of the movie takes place backstage, on stage and in a near-by deli. It's a great, true deli, where we have bowls of half sours on the table and plenty of chunks of rye bread. (In that deli we'll watch Raymond nearly sweet talk a good looking woman at the next table into his bed, and then sweet talk her husband, who suddenly appears, into agreeing Raymond just gave them both a great compliment. Robards is as smooth as warm chicken fat.)

Backstage is packed with sets, lights and half dressed chorus girls, but it's on stage where the goods are delivered...chorus girls who can barely dance but can jiggle with vigor and bump with oomph. Jason Robards and Norman Wisdom do wonderful work together. Robards is the wise-guy straight man to Wisdom's eternally innocent optimist. Their song and dance numbers really work. We'd expect this of Wisdom, who got started in English music halls and became one of Britain's great clowns. Robards, who was one of America's great stage actors, is almost as skilled. Their "Perfect Gentleman" number by rights should be a remembered classic. I don't know how Friedkin managed it, but the people in the audience look authentic, right down to their delighted reactions.

The Night They Raided Minsky's also has a clever script. Says Raymond to Chick when the little guy wants some reassurance after meeting Rachel. "You met a girl!" says Raymond with a big smile. "Ah, Chick, my boy, when it comes to girls you have three qualities that are far worse than being short and funny looking. You have the curse of the three D's. You are decent, devoted and dependable...good qualities in a dog, disastrous in a man!"

Charles Strouse scored the movie and, with Lee Adams, provided great songs. "The Night They Raided Minsky's," "Take Ten Terrific Girls" and "Perfect Gentleman" establish more than anything else the good-natured, fast, harmlessly bawdy style of the movie. The Night They Raided Minsky's had a troubled parentage, with director William Friedkin disliking it and film editor Ralph Rosenblum claiming credit for everything good about it. There's more jump cutting than we need and perhaps a few too many historical clips. Still, we have potent nostalgia for things past that no one now is alive to remember. The movie carries Norman Lear's imprint at his best, and if Rosenblum and Friedkin want to arm wrestle over the movie, that's all right with me. Who cares who cut the paper lace for the valentine? I'm just happy we've got it.

I'm ready for Dexter Maitland as the tenor to see us home...

"I have a secret recipe / Concocted with much skill / And once you've tried my special dish / You'll never get your fill...

"Take ten terrific girls, but only nine costumes, and you're cooking up something grand.

"Then add some funny men / And pepper with laughter./ It's hot and tasty I know.

"Then serve it piping hot and what have you got... A burlesque show!"

This can be a wonderful guilty pleasure, as it mixes a little (and I mean a little) skin, music hall numbers, traditional burlesque routines, a slightly salacious backstage story, and film-style slapstick.

Jason Robards and Norman Wisdom are a very convincing comedy team, although Robards is a bit dark. Give the actor and the filmmakers credit for maintaining the character as a ruthless SOB and not trying to make this guy cute and lovable.

You'll also see Bert Lahr (the Cowardly Lion) in his last film performance, which had to be truncated as he died during production (his role would have been more important and added a touch of surrealism). Also on hand is Elliott Gould, in pre-"Bob, Carol, Ted & Alice" days as a sweet schnook (and the title character), as well as Forrest Tucker as a gangster, Jack Burns as a candy butcher (that's the guy who sells the crummy boxes of candy that MIGHT have a watch in them--and if you believe that...,) Denholm Elliott (Indiana Jones' friend) as the guy who conducts the raid, as well as some real burlesque dancers and comics from the old days.

Adams and Strouse, who wrote BYE BYE BIRDIE contribute a small group of peppy songs, including "From Head To Toe You're A Gentleman" a duet for Robards and Wisdom (the latter a beloved variety star in Britain) and the immortal production number, "Take Ten Terrific Girls But Only Nine Costumes And You're Cooking Up Something Grand."

Britt Ekland inadvertently invents the striptease (it's complicated, read the plot synopsis), but reliable rumor and legend is that the breasts on display belong to a double. Incidentally, the nudity here is about as extensive as in Titanic, so if your kids have already seen that, this will not corrupt them.

The fact is the whole thing is a curiously innocent Mulligan stew of comedy and music, given its subject matter.

Norman Lear wrote and produced in his pre-ALL IN THE FAMILY DAYS, and William Friedkin directed in his pre-FRENCH CONNECTION days. According to the book "WHEN THE SHOOTING'S DONE THE CUTTING BEGINS" by Ralph Rosenblum, the film's editor, Friedkin shot the film indifferently and left immediately. Rosenblum spent the best part of a year recutting the film with the blessing of United Artists production chief David Picker. Rosenblum uses a technique of editing in hokey old silent footage to indicate to the audience that no one is taking the story too seriously, which lifts the curse over some purple writing and acting. Also Rosenblum seems to have invented a trick of mixing authentic B&W archive footage with new footage printed in black and white, which suddenly switches to color. This is an exciting and startling effect the first couple of times, but it is a bit overplayed.

Anyway, this film is better than you probably think it is, and better than it needs to be. Give it a look, it couldn't hurt.

An affectionate look at early burlesque, "The Night They Raided Minsky's" is at once nostalgic and funny. Grainy black-and-white footage of street life on New York's Lower East Side fades into color; a dapper Bert Lahr, an authentic vaudevillian from the period, strides past pushcarts laden with produce; a chorus line of over-painted, over-ripe ladies kick their legs in unison to the applause of a motley male audience. The atmosphere reeks of authenticity and the producer's love of the subject. The script by Arnold Shulman and Norman Lear revolves around a scheme to embarrass the local morals guardian into raiding the performance of a mythical Madame Fifi, who reputedly drove a million Frenchmen wild. When Madame Fifi appears, she would be an innocent Amish girl dancing scenes from the Bible. Combine some romantic entanglements and an expiring theatrical lease, stir with lots of slapstick and corny jokes, and serve with excellent performances: presto, the recipe for a breezy entertaining movie.

The lovable and endearing Norman Wisdom is the primary scene-stealer, whether mooning over a girl, doing pratfalls on stage, or trading barbs with Jason Robards. Unfortunately, many of Wisdom's scenes with Bert Lahr were cut when the Cowardly Lion died during production. If the lost footage were found, Wisdom fans would welcome its restoration as a supplement to a future DVD release. Another scene-stealer is Joseph Wiseman, who, as the elder Minsky, delivers some of the movie's best lines with pitch-perfect precision. Lovely Britt Eklund is naive perfection as the talent-less Amish girl, Denholm Elliott makes an excellent puckered prude, Harry Andrews fumes as the stern Amish father, and Elliott Gould as the younger Minsky and Forrest Tucker as a smooth gangster fill out the capable cast. Only the caddish Jason Robards seems out of place; while his comic delivery is good, his mistreatment of the likable Wisdom comes across as harsh, and he has an unconvincing character shift that has necks snapping in disbelief.

William Friedkin directs with a fast pace and uses rapid-editing techniques that keep the movie moving at a good clip. The fine photography by Andrew Laszlo captures the period, and the memorable music by Charles Strouse is engaging. "The Night They Raided Minsky's" seems to have been undeservedly forgotten. If the film had been a hit and Lahr had not passed away, Norman Wisdom would have gone on to a successful career in the United States. Unfortunately, events worked against the multi-talented Wisdom and, except for his Broadway role in "Walking Happy," his major work was done in Britain, where his legacy is a national treasure. Perhaps those who appreciate Norman's comic genius in this film will locate his British films from the 1950's and 60's and discover a talent unfairly overlooked in this country.

... Just saw this on Flix Movie Channel earlier today & brought back great memories of going-to-college in New Mexico & Utah in 1968! I must have seen "Minsky's" several times in just one week, it was so mesmerizing.

• Didn't remember Director William "The Exorcist" Friedkin & Norman Lear on the screenplay credits. No wonder this was such a fun, fast-paced movie! The editing caught the spirit of show biz then in Manhattan.

...Especially the great Burlesque bits, black & white clips of-the-times in New York City & Bert "The Cowardly Lion" Lahr. "Minsky's" stands the test-of-time! You have to have no heart or be dead & buried not to cherish this Hollywood gem!