Un mort en pleine forme

In my considered opinion, this is one of the best British comedies of all time (and I flatter myself that I am not usually given to hyperbole). To buttress this opinion, I could mention the fact that the movie is based on (and quite faithful to) one of the most hilarious stories ever penned in the English language (by R. L. Stevenson of "Treasure Island" fame); that the story in spite of its endless comical complications never once becomes too confusing (except of course to Tony Hancock's hapless inspector); and that the story is interpreted by some of the most memorable and talented actors of two generations.

The (then) old guard is worthily represented by Ralph Richardson as the deliciously exasperating Joseph Finsbury, John Mills as the cranky and cantankerous Masterman, and especially Wilfrid Lawson's unforgettable doddering yet stalwart butler (his fellow actor Michael Caine has stated that Lawson is his favorite actor--as well as the favorite actor of every other actor who knew him).

The (then) younger generation, however, does not pale by comparison. Peter Cook's Morris Finsbury sets down a delightfully unprincipled cad (one suspects that Masterman may have resembled him in his younger days), yet we can't quite stop rooting for him, because Michael Caine and Nanette Newman strike just the right sweet and innocent tone as Michael and Julia to make us surreptitiously feel that perhaps they deserve to be cheated out of their money. Moreover, the fact that the fate of the more deserving members of the younger generation is not exactly aligned with the more deserving member of the older generation reinforces the ambiguity--so we find ourselves rooting in turn for Joseph, Morris, and John, then again for Michael, Julia, and Masterman. In this respect, the eventual denouement (which I won't give away) is pleasantly and surprisingly satisfying.

Spare some kudos also for the excellent supporting cast, from Peter Sellers' vacuously venal Doctor Pratt and Dame Cicely Courtneidge's imperious Salvation Army major to such brief but perfect walk-ons as the unflappable engine crew ("We haven't heard the last of this") or poor Hackett's lachrymose widow. This is what British acting is all about.

If, in spite of all this circumstantial evidence, however, I still have not fully conveyed the essential laugh-out-loud, tears-in-your-eyes, still-uncontrollably-snickering-in-church-twelve-hours-later (warning: do not watch this movie if you plan to attend a funeral anytime soon), then I can only say one thing:

Go watch this movie. You'll love it.

Little known in the United States, THE WRONG BOX is an absolute must-see for serious students of comedy. The plot revolves around a tontine, a lottery established by the well-heeled fathers of a class of English schoolboys, the proceeds to be awarded after many years to the last surviving member of the class. The story picks up at the point where only two of the classmates are still alive: the brothers Masterman and Joseph Finsbury, who rather detest one another. The plot is full of Finsburys, all of whom want one or the other to die first so they can get a piece of the loot.

Bryan Forbes's direction is first rate, visually exquisite, and even though the convoluted plot is a bit slow to get started, nicely paced. Forbes has a notable cast of experienced actors, and he gives them free reign to perform comedy as only the British can do. The climax chase comes to a head at exactly the right time and is hilarious, the more so because it is marvelously unforced. The actors involved give the impression they're delighted to be in the film, as they should be.

THE WRONG BOX is one of Michael Caine's earlier films and he performs creditably, and Peter Sellers shines in an excellent bit part. Nevertheless, my hat goes off to three other actors who give the performance of their careers: Ralph Richardson, as the quintessential pedant Joseph Finsbury, the world's most boring narcissist; Peter Cook, as Joseph's incessantly scheming nephew who wants to see his uncle die a few seconds after Masterman croaks; and most especially, Wilfrid Lawson as the wondrously torpid Peacock, Masterman's dignified but disheveled butler whose peculiar grunts and malapropisms remain fresh with every viewing of the film. I would put Lawson's performance on a par with Humphrey Bogart's in THE CAINE MUTINY or Fred MacMurray's in DOUBLE INDEMNITY -- it is truly that good.

THE WRONG BOX ranks on a par with THE LIFE OF BRIAN as one of the finest British comedies ever. Enjoy it!

As one of the authors of the film, I'd like to say that neither of the Peters, Cook nor Sellers, did any ad libbing. As is usually the case with British actors, there was a great respect for, and reliance on, the written word.

Funny and often laugh out loud hilarious story of two brothers (John Mills and Ralph Richardson), one of whom must outlive the other in order to win a Tontine started at their boys school and going to the final survivor of the class. What transpires is "The Wrong Box," a 1966 film directed by Bryan Forbes and also starring Michael Caine, Peter Cook, Dudley Moore, Wilfred Lawson, Nanette Newman (Mrs. Forbes) and Peter Sellers.

The first ten minutes or so of the movie is hilarious, as it shows the demise of the other students over the years. Regarding the surviving Finsbury brothers, one side of has Caine and his grandfather Mills, who is desperate to win, so he summons his brother to his "deathbed" in order to kill him, in one of the funniest scenes in the movie. On the other side, Cook and Moore are Richardson's nephews, who have devoted themselves to keeping their uncle alive. They needn't have bothered because he can't be killed anyway. He walks away from a train crash, but there's a mix-up, and he's believed dead. The nephews are desperate to cover this up until Mills dies. When they go to bury what they think is his body, Cook makes Moore do it rather than put his hands in the dirt, insisting "petal-soft hands are the mark of a great ornithologist."

Both Richardson, as the fact-spewing brother, and Mills, as the crazy old coot with murder in his heart, are excellent, as is the rest of the cast. Michael Caine is young and handsome here. Peter Sellers as a shady, cat-loving doctor is a riot. Wilfred Lawson, who plays Mills' butler, nearly steals the film as the elderly servant so old he practically has rigor mortis. One of the best moments is when Michael Caine sends him to the door telling him to go slowly - it already takes him ten minutes to get there, and Lawson starts to go to the door and mumbles to himself, "I'll slow it down." Too much. The pretty ingénue, Newman, had been married to director Forbes for ten years before the making of this film. She's still married to him.

Lots of fun, with a crazy finale befitting the film.

The quiet little black comedy "The Wrong Box" has a superb cast. Veteran British stage/cinema actors (Ralph Richardson, John Mills, Wilfred Lawson) play with rising stars (Michael Caine, just off "Alfie", and Peter Cook & Dudley Moore from the groundbreaking "Beyond the Fringe" revue). Established comic actors (Peter Sellers, Tony Hancock) give performances that carefully-polished little gems. Even the tiniest "blink and you'll miss 'em" roles are loaded with familiar character actors (Cicely Courtneidge, John Le Mesurier, Thorley Walters &c) rubbing elbows with rising talents (Jeremy Lloyd, James Villiers, Leonard Rossiter, Graham Stark) making the movie a veritable field day for spotters of British humor. The performances in the major roles are all solid. Some of the smaller parts have variable performances: Thorley Walters is delightful, Courtneidge, too overbearing). All the actors seem to realize that they must take this sort of comedy seriously -- mugging kills this sort of humor. The leads (Richardson, Mills, Cook, Moore, Caine, Lawson) are all suitably earnest. Only Nanette Newman (the director's wife) doesn't seem quite up to her part, being a better actress in modern dress; but she's quite pretty enough and she's good enough not to be utterly lost even in this ensemble of extremely talented actors.

The humor is quiet, with a Victorian hush over the proceedings, lending a (perhaps tongue in cheek) funereal respect to its theme of death with laughter. The gentle pace picks up near the end with a chase with hearses and beer wagons, and a climax that gathers all the principles in a cemetery in a satisfying conclusion.

The witty script is filled with little bits that might not register at first (such as the pulse bit, or "Can you speak a little lower" and the peculiar words "unnecessarily mutilated"). Some of the sight gags go askew, but enough of them work to make them worth while. It's not a movie for every taste. Anglophiles and those who appreciate an easy-going humor may find it work a peek. Anyone who loves Peter Sellers has to see his Pratt.