Somewhere on Leave

When i watched this film i didn't know quite what to expect but i wasn't disappointed by what i saw! The intentional humour in the film is usually 'too much' for today's sense of humour but occasionally a witty remark, usually made by a despairing straight character, was quite funny. The great delight of the film is the unintentional humour provided by the love interest part of the film in which the standard of acting is something to behold and glory in! I have never seen wooden and uncompelling acting to compare with the standard on evidence here in a British film and I have watched other British films from the war period. The, by today's tastes, silliness of the comedy action and acting contrasts terribly with the dreary and hopelessly acted love concern making the film an unsatisfying watch overall. However there are a few moments of genuine humour and the amazingly bad acting give the film a certain unforgettable aspect!

Somewhere on Leave is one of a serious of now-forgotten British comedies from the 1940s, starring Frank Randle, Harry Korris and Robbie Vincent. The series began with Somewhere in England in 1940 and ran until 1949 with Somewhere in Camp, Somewhere on Leave, Somewhere in Civvies and Somewhere in Politics. Although reasonably popular at the time, these films were scrappily made and probably don't hold much appeal beyond nostalgia for most viewers. As a result, they are very very rarely shown on television, unlike the contemporary films of, say, Will Hay or George Formby.

You might say these films have worn badly, but on the evidence available, they were never much good to begin with. Somewhere on Leave features the ageing stars as unlikely recruits in the army, getting involved in various slapstick sequences involving horses, a piano, a trampoline, etc, as well as the expected run-ins with the regiment's sergeant major. There are also a couple of irrelevant song and dance sequences, the opportunity for the actors to play a scene in drag, and the obligatory comedy drunk scene.

The writers intercut the comic scenes with a stilted romance between the two young leads, and even manage to shoehorn a propaganda message into the film about the breaking down of class barriers. There are a couple of old gags which almost work, but they are usually let down by the poor delivery and ham-fisted direction. The director (John E. Blakeley) has a penchant for placing his camera so that the actors are looking almost directly into it when they are supposed to be talking to each other, making the dialogue scenes even more stilted than they already are. I've seen some bad films over the years, but the opening scenes, between Toni Lupino and her friend, contain probably the worst acting I've ever seen on film. The actors are extraordinarily stilted, as they talk about Lupino's parent's death in an air raid, as if they are discussing which hat to wear tonight. The acting is bad enough to make it a strong contender for the most unintentionally funny scene in film history.

Running this scene a close second is one involving an anti-aircraft battery. The guns are shown shooting down a German bomber - cut to a shot of an open-cockpit First World War biplane being hit! In the next shot, the plane is a World War Two bomber again. You would think a 1942 audience would know the difference between a wood and string built 1915 biplane and a WWII bomber, but it's indicative of the film makers contempt for the audience, as if they think they'll accept any old rubbish.

Its tempting to make allowances and put the film's ineptitude down to the difficulties producing films in wartime. But then, the British industry also produced Thunder Rock, Colonel Blimp, Went the Day Well? and In Which We Serve within a year of this film, proving this film is more of an aberration than anything.

The fact that several reviews have now appeared for this film on IMDb suggests that the other viewers took the same opportunity to watch this as I did, on a very rare BBC2 showing. On this evidence, however, its easy to see why its shown so rarely, and I can't imagine there's much danger of another airing for quite a long time.

I had never even heard of the "Somewhere on…" film series far less seen it and so I decided I should check at least one out as part of my overall experience of film. Almost a year went by from my "discovery" of these films before I got the chance to see one of them on television – which is quite telling when you consider the multi-platform digital world in which we now live. Anyway, this is the third film in the series and I cannot comment on whether it is representative but I'm guessing the series probably doesn't vary from this one very much.

The film opens with a terribly wooden dialogue scene that wins the prize for mentioning the title of the film but also wins a prize for being one of the most painfully establishing scenes I've seen in quite some time. After this we vary wildly in tone. Scattered here and there are "straight" scenes that are supposed to provide some sort of narrative to hold the film together. Ignoring the success of this for the moment, the reason for this attempt at backbone is that the rest of the film essentially consists of music hall comic sketches that fit broadly in with the "military service" scenario. I think it probably goes without saying that the straight scenes are as painful as the opening scene but fortunately they are surprisingly infrequent.

What makes up the majority then is this rather "cheeky chappy" comedy that is interesting even if it doesn't really offer much beyond this. What I speak of is "laughter", which is of course its main aim. Maybe it is the passage of time rather than the fact it is not very good, but the film isn't that funny and really it just seems chaotic. This is where it is interesting because it does capture the feeling of working class, music hall humour; OK it is not a great example of it but it is still a way into this long gone world. This access is provided by the cheeky capering of Randle, Korris and Vincent, all of whom offer quick fire disrespect to authority figures. Their material isn't that good but their delivery is funny and strangely quaint. I liked Cobbe's turn but it is terrible to watch Lupino and McGrath creaking their way through their "straight" scenes.

Overall then this is a film that is creaking not only with age but also with the wooden performances of some of the actors. The laughs are sparse and it has dated but I suppose it does have a certain historical and cultural value as a snapshot of a style of humour from yesteryear.

Now I can see where Harry Enfield got some of his inspiration for his parodies of wooden, black and white performances. The first scene is hilariously bad; each actor reading their lines as if no one else is in the scene. The film carries on in the same vein, punctuated with the relief of plenty of classic British slapstick. I can imagine the wartime audiences guffawing in their cinema seats. The odd dose of patriotic optimism grounds the film in its time.

The film restoration is excellent with clear picture and good sound.

For a modern audience, the terrible acting makes this all the funnier and it's an enjoyable watch.

Wartime Britain had a film industry capable in those dark days both of reaching the heights of the sublime with 'The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp' and the depths of the ridiculous with this stilted but popular low comedy (with which it actually shares a couple of supporting actors).

Although he today seems as funny as ringworm, Frank Randle actually proves surprisingly agile in sequences requiring physical prowess, such as when he attempts to negotiate a trampoline, a horse, a staircase and - most surprisingly - a dancefloor.