Un vison pour mademoiselle

The last time I saw this film was about 40 years ago when I was a kid. My sister and I would watch movies on Channels 9 and 11 in NYC and we saw Make Mine Mink about 3 times, I figure. Since then, I have unsuccessfully sought it in movie stores, like a man wistfully returning to the haunts he frequented with his first love, hoping against all odds to catch another glimpse of her. Part of my curiosity is determining whether I would think it as funny today, and my sister wonders the same thing. Terry Thomas was an absolute favorite of mine back then, too, and I haven't seen anything of him on TV for a long time. So what's this got to do with the movie itself? Well, it's just that kind of film. There's such a combination of comedy, sweetness, surprise, and intelligence in it that it sticks with you for a long time. The combination of the odd British major living in a rooming house with an extraordinary collection of women, the craziness of their plans and the situations they get themselves into, and the smart understating of the comedy that was such a British specialty before they became so self-conscious about that particular gift, make it a rarity in more ways than one.

Very odd film. The sort of film that only the British could make.

Terry-Thomas is cast out of his usual flash, boisterous role as the rather timid Major Rayne, down on his luck and living in a boarding house with the weirdest collection of women you're ever likely to see, including a very young Billie Whitelaw and a masterful Hattie Jacques.

By pure mischance, they embark on a campaign of fur robbery in order to support their landlady's charitable work. The film is a wonderful caricature of the down-at-heel gentry in Britain at that time, includes some very endearing characters and is genuinely funny in its naive fashion.

Recommended to any fan of the wonderful Terry-Thomas and British comedies of this era.

Oddball British humor is as quirky as it gets in MAKE MINE MINK about a former military man (TERRY-THOMAS) who organizes an unlikely band of fur thieves in order to help fund an orphanage. It's screwball farce on the highest level, as only the British could do in the '60s about seniors in a rooming house who decide to spice up their lives by joining a robbery plan that goes awry.

Within a half-hour of various pranks involving a discarded mink coat, the eccentric roomers of a London boarding house decide to go in on a scheme of stealing fur coats to fund their favorite charity. A sub-plot develops involving BILLIE WHITELAW and a young policeman. She's reluctant to become his sweetheart because she has a police record and it could hurt his career. He scoffs at the idea. She, of course, knows nothing about the roomers' plans.

The plot deals amusingly with all of the bungled fur robberies and the interplay between the eccentric boarding house characters who adopt different disguises for every robbery. One of the most amusing sequences has Terry-Thomas believing he's stumbled upon a den of thieves and fences so he can sell some of the stolen goods--until he realizes the patrons are all members of the Salvation Army.

The fun is in the role playing and the clever script. It's played to the hilt by an ingratiating cast and ends on an ironic note after the burglar ring has sworn that they've committed their last crime.

Summing up: Mindless fun all the way.

Charming comedy about a bored group who board with Dame Bea (Athene Seyler) in an apartment. She supports many charities but has now run out of money. Through a series of events, they hit upon the idea of stealing fur coats and selling them to a fence so that she can continue to support her charities. The others are all bored so they go along ...since it's for charity. Implausible plot makes little difference as this disparate group of oddballs start their series of robberies. Subplot has Dame Bea's maid (Billie Whitelaw) who has a prison record, falling for a cop (Jack Hedley).

The robberies are masterminded by the Major (Terry-Thomas) who calls on his military experience to plan the robberies, including all manner of disguises. Because they have no police records, they rob shops and gambling joints right under the cops' noses.

The cast is uniformly excellent is this bit of craziness. Terry-Thomas and Athene Seyler turn in star performances, matched by Hattie Jacques as Nan and Elspeth Duxbury as the hapless Pinkie--their cohorts. Others in the cast include Raymond Huntley as the inspector, Irene Handl as Spolinski, Penny Morrell as Gertrude, Sydney Tafler and Joan Heal as the neighbors, and May Hallatt as the old lady. Kenneth Williams also shows up as the fence.

The ending is priceless.

For no reason I can fathom, this title recently popped into the disordered clutter of my memory. I haven't seen it since those halcyon days in Southern California, before multiplexes, when admission prices were affordable on a frequent basis, and when the area where I lived had theaters that booked all sorts of films from all over the globe, or so it seemed. It's one of the few films I went back to see almost immediately, since the uproarious laughter it provoked obscured some of the dialogue during my first viewing.

Terry-Thomas and his female partners-in-crime are truly hilarious and, for me, the special bonus of two of my favorite British character actresses, Irene Handl and Hattie Jacques, appearing in a film together, made this one of those gems I'll never forget. The slapstick elements are handled with that special brand of wit for which English comedies are noted and the modest production values actually enhanced the fun. I note that it's not currently available from American purveyors to the U.S. video market, but a DVD is offered in the U.K. Guess it's time to discover what's involved in exchange rates, international shipping, and so forth. It should prove worth the effort to renew a happy memory.