Clockwise - Recht so, Mr. Stimpson

The most surprising things about this minor classic from the mid 80's are that it was director Christopher Morahan's first film since 1969, and Cleese's character is based on a real-life headmaster! John Cleese based the character on the head of his daughter's school, and I can tell you the real life head is just as delightfully nutty as Stimpson.

Time obsessed Mr Stimpton, head of an ordinary British state school finds himself chairman of the Headmasters Conference and has to get to Norwich to address their meeting. Everything goes wrong on the way, despite Stimpson's meticulous planning, and due to his obsessive nature he gets more and more frayed at the edges as things go wrong.

There are some great observations on human nature in a film which moves quick enough to keep you laughing but not so quick that you miss anything.

Not perhaps Cleese's very best work, but a minor classic nevertheless. Generally under-rated as most have already said. Chris Morahan went onto continue his film directors career with the excellent thriller "Paper Tiger" in 1990, among others.

A much underrated comedy detailing the collapse of a stern, disciplinarian headmaster during a chaotic journey to deliver a speech at a convention of snobbish educationists.

Cleese begins in a very restrained way and is watchable and funny as he gradually descends into anarchic despondency. The pathos as he finally delivers his speech, in an ill-fitting (stolen) tasteless outfit, surrounded by the detritus of his dreadful day, is genuinely moving as well as funny.

Best line, from Cleese, as yet another possible means of reaching his goal emerges: 'It's not the despair: I can cope with the despair. It's the HOPE - that's what's killing me.' Almost the perfect motto for Scotland football supporters, you might say.

Probably alone in the world, I rate this movie superior to the overly foul-mouthed and Americanised Fish Called Wanda. A host of grizzled British character actors, including the magnificent Alison Steadman, keep things going.

I wonder what happened to the sherry glasses?

Glad to see this film is building up a fan-base. Any references I've come across in film guides have been pretty dismissive, and it seems to have been rubbished on its release. I think "minor classic" is the perfect description for it: it's so pleasantly low-key, restrained and, well, English. It respects the tradition of farce and, despite the frenetic pace and the subject matter, retains a kind of gentle, even staid appeal. The race to get to the conference might be nail-biting but the sleepy English countryside, the apple-eating farmer, the scene of John Cleese soaking in a bath-tub, evoke a world of endearing laziness. A film for bank holidays, and perhaps more suited to TV than the cinema. A Fish Called Wanda has funnier moments but, on the whole, I think I prefer this.

Interesting that so many people have said they can watch it again and again. I've seen it four or five times and I'm planning on buying it on my way home from work today, then watching it over dinner. Don't know what made me think of it and look it up. Actually I saw it being given away free with a newspaper last week, that must be it. I wasn't going to add to a tabloid's circulation, though.

A scrupulously punctual headmaster in an English comprehensive school sets off for the Headmaster's Conference to deliver a keynote speech. One little slip sees him boarding the wrong train, which leads to a chain of consequences conspiring to keep him from his goal. This is one of the finest farces I've ever seen brought to the screen, written naturally enough by theatre farce-meister Michael Frayn. The frenetic energy of John Cleese in his prime really lifts this above the norm, as he hitches a ride with a student, bumps into and kidnaps an ex-girlfriend and winds up naked in a monastery. The climactic scenes at the HMC amount to perhaps the finest pay-off seen in farce. This is, indeed, a historic moment.

Having known my share of stuffed shirts, I was howling at the torture of John Cleese in this film. You know who all those stuffed shirts are, too: those who insist on a spotless, shiny, tidy room; who balance out their finances every day, it seems; who have carved a nice manageable life for themselves. What makes the comedy work, though, is that in spite of all the setbacks Cleese suffers, the movie doesn't take any sadistic delight in them. When the car, and Cleese, gets stuck in the mud, we all cringe at his predicament, and laugh along with him, since we'd probably be going through the same thing ourselves, but for the grace of God. No toilet humor, no toilet language. Just a madcap comedy of errors fit for all. Right!