Black Sheep of Whitehall

Will Hay was approaching the end of his screen career by 1942, and the quality of his work had suffered after he decided to dispense with the services of Moore Marriott and Graham Moffatt. While The Black Sheep of Whitehall has its moments, it never reaches the heights of his earlier work. John Mills provides energetic suppport, but he never seemed comfortable in comic roles, and fails to provide the kind of repartee upon which Hay's brand of humour depended.

Will Hay was one of the most popular British comedians of the 1930's and early 1940's. He usually played a seedy incompetent trying vainly to exert his authority and prove his expertise to a sceptical world.

In this film Hay's character (Professor *Davis*) becomes confused with a truly expert economist (Professor *Davys*). The real professor is kidnapped by spies and Will Hay adopts a series of disguises in his efforts to track down the gang (aided by John Mills).

One of the highlights of the film comes when Hay has to deliver the Professor's talk on economics on BBC radio. His attempt to explain the global economy in terms of nuts from Brazil and port from Portugal ("Brazilians will definitely grow more and more nuts!") has to be heard to be believed and reduces the interviewer (played by BBC newsman Leslie Mitchell) to a nervous collapse. Priceless stuff!

Will Hay was never as funny again after leaving Gainsborough for Ealing, and with it Graham Moffat & Moore Marriott. This one is a particularly dispiriting affair, with few of a good cast at their best - and it doesn't even have Claude Hulbert! Hay laboriously impersonates six different characters without any attempt to change his voice or body language; while the concluding motor cycle chase set against an attractive rural backdrop initially promises to liven things up, but proves far too confusing and goes on far too long.

There are odd moments such as the radio interview with Leslie Mitchell that reduces Mitchell to a perspiring wreck, and John Mills has a couple of funny scenes impersonating an amnesiac in the Psychopathic Ward; but it took until Hay's next (and final) two films to return to something like his old form.

THE BLACK SHEEP OF WHITEHALL was one of the many films starring the now largely forgotten British comedian Will Hays. As usual, he's a shady character who gets dragged into things; this time a Professor Davies - running an mail order qualifications scam - who is confused with a Professor Daveys - a top Latin American economist come to London to arbitrate on a vital trade agreement - after the latter is kidnapped by Nazi agents in the middle of the Second World War. With John Mills' straight man, they rumble the plot and - afraid the police won't believe them - decide to free the right professor by infiltrating the sanitorium where he's being hidden. It's fast-paced, music-hall comedy as the pair bumble from scrape to scrape, with the inevitable transvestism and occasional war jokes. The highlight though is the climactic chase, in which the professor is towed behind a car on a medical tricycle; it is a brilliant piece of visual comedy that makes the entire film worthwhile. An old-fashioned treat.

This is one of Will Hay's overlooked gems – of course not up to his Gainborough standard it's continuously inventive with many hilarious patches. And John Mills excelled himself as his semi-comic sidekick in best Music Hall tradition.

Without going into too much detail: A Professor Davys is kidnapped by Nazi agents en route to the Ministry of International Commerce where he was to give the lowdown to the British government on how to screw 10 friendly South American governments with a multilateral economic agreement in the campaign to win WW2. The Nazis supply their own man to fool the Authorities. Hay, as seedy correspondence college Principal and Treasurer Professor Davis and Ministry clerk Mills get mixed up in it all when they discover the truth and the chase is on to out the Nazis. Believe it or not it would be quite an engrossing plot even without the comedy, and taken at breakneck speed. If remade today though cgi cartoonery, swearing, sex and violence would probably add 30 minutes on. Favourite bits: Hay's BBC radio interview with the despairing Leslie Mitchell; Mills in the hospital as an amnesiac; the nurse telling Hay (dressed as a nurse) she sees that Hay sticks to the old-fashioned undies and his surprising reply; the national anthems being played – although a missed opportunity to have Joss Ambler stand up in his turn; the slapstick chase with the Prof. in the bath-chair in tow. When the chair eventually loses its wheels the sound effects are relentlessly gorgeous!

With so many classics behind him and one classic still to make, Black Sheep can be compared unfavourably, but taken on its own is still a very funny British film made generations ago.