Cor, Blimey!

Covering the Carry On films of the 1960's with Cleo, Camping, Girls and Girls, Cor Blimey follows the affair between Sid James and Barbara Windsor. Taking years before anything happens, Windsor generally avoids the pitfall that is James' infamous libido but tongues are wagging on top of all the usual bickering and cat-fighting behind the scenes in the Carry On team.

BBC2 did a recent night on the Carry On films that featured a few films and a few documentaries, among them this film that manages to be a bit of both. Based on Terry Johnson's play, the film presents a story similar to the "behind the scenes" dramas that BBC2 have done recently focusing on Kenneth Williams, Frankie Howerd and Steptoe & Son but also delivered in the cheeky style of the Carry On films themselves. Watching it I thought that this approach would prevent the film getting to the heart of the characters and that it would be too jokey to produce real pathos. It may not totally get there but it does work surprisingly well as it manages to mix the styles reasonably well, even if the first half has the majority of the comedy and the second half more of the drama. Both work well though and I found the film to be both entertaining and engaging. Directing his own script, Johnson produces the look and feel of the period and the films and is responsible for getting the mix right.

The cast respond well to this with performances that are much more than just impressions. Most of them only bear a passing resemblance to the real people but they all do well with the voices, however the real success is in how good their performances are. After a short while you forget the differences and soon you are sold on the actors as the real thing. Spiro's Windsor is good bringing out the frustrated pull out of the bubbling exterior. She works well with Hutchings, who also slowly turns his lecherous character into something more human, pained and engaging. The support cast are just that but yet has generally strong turns. Godley's Williams is of particular note but Walters, Cotterill, Speirs and Howard all do their characters justice.

I watched Cor, Blimey with no great expectations but it turned out to be a great little film that all Carry On fans will enjoy. It successfully brings the pathos and emotion out of a funnier first half without it being jarring or seeming unnatural but indeed matches the feel of the films and the period to good effect. Carry On lovers should watch it but it is also good enough to win over the casual viewer with only a passing interest.

The opening half of this film dramatising the affair between two of Britain's best and best-loved comedians, Sid James and Barbara Windsor, is a wonderful marriage of form and content, and a lesson to anyone who dares to make period dramas. From the cheeky title and CARRY ON-style credits, we know we're in for a treat that will not betray its subjects with deadly respectability.

This half is filmed like a CARRY ON, with the central romance between Sid and Babs diffused by innuendo-laden bits of business featuring Kenneth Williams, Charles Hawtrey et al. There is one stunning shot at the beginning where the vast Roman ampitheatre through which a soldier walks is revealed to be a tiny model, pointing to the themes of reality and appearance that will be the film's theme, as well as the economic reality of these films' production.

Sid's life in this half is played like a CARRY ON farce, full of repetition, coitus interruptus, double entendres, comedy gangsters and buxom ladies locked in bathrooms. The general verdict on CARRY ONs is that they are an assembly line churning out shoddy products of ever decreasing quality, concerned only with adolescent titillation (this is not my view - HENRY and CLEO at least are great films, while KHYBER is the greatest of all British satires, and the equal of Bunuel); so treating the lives of these people who must subsume their own personalities in their screen personae (even the sex scene is mediated through cinematic apparatus), locked in an evermore limiting labyrinth of personal need and public status is true at least to public perception (behind which, presumably, the filmmakers wish to delve).

The lines and jokes are fruity and excellent, the sets deliciously gaudy, the re-enactments priceless, the chronology a little wobbly, the acting a triumph (Samantha Spiro as Babs is so winning and moving she makes me totally reevaluate a figure I'd previously considered fairly margainal), but, best of all, it shows that farce, and especially CARRY ONs, have an emotional basis denied by its detractors.

The screenwriter doesn't quite believe it either though, and this fertile approach is soon abandoned as the film gets more serious, tragic, and it seeks an appropriate mode to express this, fixing on a fatal melange of social realism and middle-class Rattiganisms (so as not to alienate the film's prime-time audience). The subversion of genre that was the first half (and subverting genre and its conservative functions was what CARRY ONs were all about) becomes a conventional biopic, robbing the subjects of their breezy singularity.

Yes it's all very sad and desparing and tragic, yes the recreation of a shabby 70s Britain at the fag-end of both the entertainment industry and British society itself is expertly realised, but so is Merchant Ivory. There are lines of dialogue, which, without irony, could have come straight from an Alan Bennett parody. The despair of Williams is frequently alluded to, but to anyone unfamiliar with his story somewhat obscured.

The hilarious parody of Burton and Taylor that characterises Sid and Babs' early relationship becomes sadly literal as we go on. You certainly wouldn't know why these cheaply-made music hall quickies remain astonishingly popular and vibrant today, while their more respectable peers lie in cobwebbed vaults. After such a fun start, then, a bit of a shame.

In the U.S. in the 60's and into the early 70's the 'Carry On' films were telecast as Late - or more usually, as Late, Late Shows: in the age before wall-to-wall content/media these films were, in the States, filler fare - almost throwaways, because it's likely that U.S. distributors didn't, or couldn't, demand or get great sums for the 'Carry On' films from broadcasters who used them to flesh-out (pun definitely and cheekily intended!) their late-night schedules. But whenever a 'Carry On' film aired I did my best to see and enjoy it - there's just something so utterly and unselfconsciously charming about them that made them irresistible to me. (My favorite, by the way, is 'Carry On, Sergeant,' because it features the brilliant, and under-appreciated - at least on this side of the Pond, William Hartnell.) The 'Carry On' films are from a time when good, clean fun could be and was enjoyed, a time before the soul-corroding rubbish of political correctness and the supercilious hypersensitivity with which it burdened life in all of its dimensions except for the realm of the individual's soul, hadn't yet begun to darken everyone's doorway and to dumb-down and dull to death what now passes for education, newspapers, and television and theatre; it was also a time before we let our children be soaked in the properly adult matters of sex and sexuality - and yet even children could and did enjoy the 'Carry On' series. It was a time in which harmless titillation and suggestiveness allowed viewers' imaginations to do their own good and joyous work; it was nothing like nowadays when the Beeb, and much of Hollywood, vomits monotonously nothing but dull Orwellian multi-culti preachiness and strictures - which are far worse than "liberal" and "progressive" critics of the foregoing vibrant and delectable "monoculture" have had the imagination to have yet grasped (heaven forfend that anyone should scandalize a Mohammedan or offend another nunnish radical feminist to anguished despond and spitefulness). It was the existence of the now dead and late lamented, at least by me, monoculture's healthful customs and manners that made the Carry On films the widely enjoyed success that they were; nowadays, with the so-called barriers to everything and anything (except, obviously, to genuineness and to the decency which it begets and widespreads) having been demolished, and all babies having been thrown out with the bath water of the monoculture's supposedly unique and malicious "Eurocentric" hypocrisy, the consequent lack of spontaneity and decency have yielded nothing but Orwellian dullness and monotony which the monoculture's detractors had supposed themselves to be gloriously relieving us of. It was the existence of sound rules and healthful customs that made funny business funny; now that all those old rules have gone, the lack of rules and "barriers" (except, of course, those prescribed for us by our self-vaunted "correct" elites who have replaced the people we once knew to be our betters) has rendered nothing funny and everything grim and seedy and contentious - 'Much Ado About Nothing' indeed.

U.S. 'Carry On' film fans saw very little of the UK publicity for, or British gossip sheets' focus on, the 'Carry On' cast members, so I ought to take 'Cor, Blimey!'s' account of the James-Windsor affair with a large grain of salt; and comments made by Britons here on IMDb, having pointed out the film's taken licenses and liberties, I feel that grain of salt is a proper one to take. It was filmed on a very low budget as its resort to extant, ready-to-hand cinema sets, props, and costumes testifies amply; and yet, like the 'Carry On' films themselves, 'Cor, Blimey!' has its own irresistible charms because it's well-cast, well-played and, almost throughout, astutely written from an ear finely attuned to the sensibilities of its period and the milieu in which James and Windsor carried on their affair. Despite its lackluster editing and somewhat muddy soundtrack, I enjoyed it immensely, and so with great enthusiasm I recommend 'Cor, Blimey!' to everyone who's ever enjoyed - even secretly lest they dread to suffer accusation of deserving to belong to the vulgar mass or, perhaps worse, to one or another of the so-called "Oppressor classes" - a good old, pull-the-bung-out (but only halfway, because it's always far funnier when your imagination does the really funny work) hilarious 'Carry On' film.

Now, since "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity," let men go out and stare unselfconsciously at greater and lesser bosoms and let women giggle gleefully at the men making fools of themselves. Carry On, All!

The "Carry On" movies were probably better distributed in Canada than the States, because we'd been weaned on British humour by the CBC, but they were strictly B-market, playing small town theatres and drive-in double bills. Still, aside from Sidney James with his TV shows, it's doubtful that the majority of those appreciative rural audiences could attach names to the faces on the screen, and while we drooled with the rest of this continent over the doings of the Beatles and Mick and Marianne and even Peter and Britt, the lives of the "Carry On" crew were an unknown commodity.

"Cor Blimey!" is something I tuned into out of idle curiosity and found myself rivetted. While I don't doubt it has its share of inaccuracies (some even I spotted, like misplaced productions in the time frame), the warts-and-all depictions of these troubled comedians has an authenticity I don't for a moment doubt. The friendship (yes, friendship) between James and Williams is particularly provocative, as they verbally spar on a constant basis and, deep down, enjoy every second of it, and each other. A telling moment is when Kenneth learns of Sid's death, and his smart alecky composure instantly falls away to a look of stunned grief. Adam Godfrey is nothing short of amazing as the caustic Williams (that moment where he tells the little autograph hunter to bugger off is horribly hilarious), a beautifully realized portrait of a brilliant and frustrated soul driven to extremes of exhibitionism. I remember reading the Joe Orton biography years ago, and being mystified that a "Carry On" comic was so thick with the doomed literary couple, like trying to evision Soupy Sales hanging out with Paul and Jane Bowles. Clearly Williams was exactly their type, and it's a pity that the rather tepid "Prick Up Your Ears" didn't incorporate him as a character.

While the story's focal point, Sid James' loosing battle with the bottle and his crazed romantic obsession with Barbara, who only has deep loyal friendship to offer, is rich and poignant, I could've done with more details about the rest of the "Carry On" crew. We only get the most fleeting glimpses of the (excellently cast) Charles Hawtrey and Joan Sims and Bernard Bresslaw. Also there's some conspicuous absenses, such as the divine Hattie Jacques (Dawn French would've been ideal). One moment that brings to mind another reviewer's comment on the amusing blend of film artifice and reality, is when Sid has his first stroke and he's in the hospital with the Jacques-like floor matron (Claire Cathcart). I was thinking for sure that this was a recreation of the "Carry On Doctor" set, until Barbara shows up to visit.

Anyway, I'll leave disputes over the film's tastefulness and historical accuracy to people of the Isles who better knew these stars, but for someone from this side of the pond for whom the "Carry On" films is a delightful 60s/70s footnote, this finely done TV film is an intelligent and illuminating watch.

Despite the fact that a number of chronological inaccuracies can be a little off-putting, the sheer talent and warmth of the actors bringing these well-known and much loved characters to life goes a long way toward redeeming the film from its obvious shortcomings. The principal casting is sublime, without exception. Even the late Kenneth MacDonald, better known as Mike in Only Fools and Horses, has a great cameo as Barbara Windsor's comically sinister minder and associate of her then husband, Ronnie Knight.

For me, the film comes into its own in the second half, as the characters cope with the looming demise of the Carry On franchise and confront their own unravelling lives. It's hard to imagine a more convincing Kenneth Williams than Adam Godley, although the other players are just as accomplished.

One point to take issue with, for me, is the portrayal of Sid James, although Geoffrey Hutchings' performance is flawless and convincing. It's well known that the real Sid had his flaws, but many of his fellow cast-members, male and female, have described him in interviews as a gentleman, well-mannered and considerate, a pleasure to work with, a generous actor and thoroughly nice man. This doesn't really shine through in the portrayal, and early in the film especially, he is represented as little more than an unwashed serial sex-pest. The passion-fruit gag (best left to the imagination) becomes cringe-worthy and I think is way overdone.

As the film progresses, a more human side emerges and we see Sid's enormous popularity and warm relationship with his fans, as his infatuation with Barbara Windsor becomes destructive. Samantha Spiro's Barbara Windsor is so believable that you almost don't notice when the real Babs herself joins Adam Godley's Kenneth Williams for some poignant reminiscing in the closing moments of the film.

Many of the real Carry on Gang, despite giving so much pleasure to millions around the world, remained unfulfilled personally and professionally, and endured disappointments and great unhappiness in their off-screen lives. They were exploited very badly by the Carry On producers, who continued to make millions from endless repeats around the world, while the stars themselves had taken relatively modest, one-off fees.

Forgiving some of the film's flaws, it's a nice tribute to a wonderful and much loved generation of British actors and entertainers.