Keep Your Seats, Please!

Out of work and dossing around, George (George Formby), the favourite nephew of a favourite wealthy aunt (Dame May Whitty) is left a secret inheritance after the aunt dies, but the cheque has been sewn into a seat that has been auctioned off with many of her other possessions. George learns of this and learning that all seven dining room chairs have been sold separately seeks them out.

Turned into a Formby vehicle from a novel by Ilya Ilf and adapted by regular Formby writer Anthony Kimmins and Thomas J. Geraghty and Ian Hay, this is a good early star turn as Formby/Kimmins still tries to find the formula that works for his films. There are plenty of laughs and set pieces, some quite hilarious. Produced by Basil Dean, Formby even gets to sing one of his best known songs, 'When I'm Cleaning Windows'.

KEEP YOUR SEATS, PLEASE! Is an early Ealing comedy starring George Formby, and it's most notable for being the one where he sings his most famous ukelele song, 'When I'm Cleaning Windows', in a scene randomly shoehorned into the narrative. That set-piece is indeed the highlight of the movie, but the rest is amiable enough, a typical character-focused comedy about a hidden inheritance and some unscrupulous villains trying to get their hands on it. Formby is certainly an acquired taste but I found him quite likeable in a goofy way in this one, and you do get the treat of an early Alistair Sim role where the actor plays - what else? - a villain.

Adapted from same source material as 'The Twelve Chairs', this British version of the tale focuses on a broke young man who has to find out which of his deceased aunt's chairs sold on auction has her precious jewels stashed inside it. Also hot on the case is a well cast Alastair Sim, cunning as ever as the greedy executor of the aunt's estate, as well as a 'friend' set on slowly cheating the trusting main character out of his fortune. Lead actor George Formby is initially hard to warm to with his blatant ignorance to the way the world works (an auction where he keeps outbidding himself is excruciating). As the film progresses though, he becomes a more likable soul as he gets to often show ingenuity, whether it be walking while singing to get one woman away from her chair or ripping a chair at the exact times that a doctor listens to his heart on a stethoscope (arguably the film's funniest scene). Clifford Heatherley is simply hilarious as the bewildered doctor in question who believes that the rip sounds are symptoms of a bad heart. There is also a delightfully zany part in which Formby and his friends disguise a goat and try to take it with them. The conclusion of the movie comes just a little too neat and quickly, but at an economically paced 82 minutes, the film at least never outstays its welcome and there are some memorable songs in the mix too.

I have Nail Deans autobiography. He says that he had the utmost difficulty in persuading Florence Desmond to take the female lead because her part consisted mainly of rushing after George carrying a child of three. However she needed the money.

He says that they had to be careful about his musical members because he couldn't read a note of music.

He adds that none of his films did worthwhile business in the West End but elsewhere it was a case of all seats sold most of the time.

His films sold on the strength of his personality. So far as the audience was concerned he was gormless. His best known number was featured in this film.

This is another one of my favourite Formby's, a fast paced comedy drama with a lot of plot to it (based on a Russian play from 1928), a couple of nice songs and a view of a long dead England. It was the 2nd major vehicle for him at ATP after No Limit under the expert guidance of Basil Dean … and Beryl of course!

Eccentric aunt Georgina dies and leaves her gormless nephew George £90,000 in bonds and jewels sewn up in one of a number of chairs already being auctioned. Unfortunately wide eyed manic lawyer Alistair Sim also knows so the chase is on to get to the correct chair before the other does. In this George is aided by Flo Desmond and her little niece Binkie and hindered by smooth talking Gus McNaughton, eventually making front page headlines as a gang of chair-slashers being sought by the police. Nowadays ordinary slashers find they're not being sought by the police. Songs: When I'm Cleaning Windows (in Madame Louise's suddenly dubious apartment, and on the uke that became Lot 443 in the auction of his property after his death in 1961); Tip Of My Toes (by Flo at breakfast in the boarding house); Binkie's Lullaby (in the workman's hut – delightfully ended by Binkie's cute line "Auntie Florrie's asleep, come on, let's play"); and Keep Your Seats Please (first in the pawnshop then on the bus, again playing to Binkie's obvious delight). Favourite bits: the knockabout scenes at Doctor Wilberforce's surgery, with George astounding him by revealing he had twin appendixes; the farcical situations with Enid Stamp-Taylor; Max's ever-increasing percentage take; x-raying the goat. There's the usual great cast that appeared in George's finest films at Ealing when he was Britain's top star – the formula had arrived, was perfect, and was played over and over again.

If you like Formby as I do there's not a dull moment in here, it's wonderful old fashioned entertainment from start to finish, if you don't like Formby here's another chance to work off some cynical bile.