Let's Go Crazy

Peter Sellers' first movie-screen appearance was shot when Penny Points To Paradise came in with more than a week left on the studio rental. Sellers and Milligan improvised a few scene, including Sellers doing a Groucho imitation, his 'Crystal Jollibottom' character from radio. They added a few singers, dancers, and Freddy Mirfield's orchestra, had Milligan do a bit of Eccles, and edited the whole together for a bit over half an hour.

It's a variety short and little more, pitched midway between Olsen & Johnson and Ernie Kovacs. It's of some interest to fans of Sellers and Milligan - which I certainly am - but little more.

Shot in just a week and looking more like it was shot out of a cannon, "Let's Go Crazy" works no better now than it did when it first came out. At least you get to sample the nightclub scene in Brighton circa 1951 and see Peter Sellers in his first starring role.

Cobbled together from some spare time left over from another movie Sellers was featured in, "Let's Go Crazy" is not a story but a revue. Set in an unnamed nightclub and restaurant, Sellers provides interstitial comedy bits in-between song-and-dance performers who worked the seaside English resort town of Brighton, where both this and that other movie, "Penny Points To Paradise," were shot.

Sellers fans do have reason to see this movie. He's only a featured player in "Penny Points" but gets more of the spotlight here. Pity the comedy is so weak. His first scene has him playing Giuseppe, the head waiter, trying to convince a patron to have the spaghetti.

"Cut off me legs and call my shorty!" Guiseppi whines when the guy insists on boiled beef and carrots.

The joke is when the patron finally agrees after a long song and dance, Giuseppe tells him the spaghetti is off, but they do have another dish: Boiled beef and carrots.

It gets little better. Asked if she has a reservation, another character Sellers plays in drag responds: "What do you think I am, a red Indian?" Doing a poor Groucho Marx impersonation, he asks a waiter played by Spike Milligan if he serves crabs. When Spike says yes, Groucho hands him a dead crab and says: "Then serve my friend, he hasn't eaten in three weeks!"

Sellers and Milligan were not yet Goons when this movie was first screened; it was released in May, 1951, the same month as "Penny Points" (probably on a double bill) and also the same month the Goon Show made its inauspicious debut as "Crazy People," which remained the troupe's name for its first two seasons. Perhaps that's the reason for this film's title, though it's missing the two other "Crazy People" cast members, Harry Secombe and Michael Bentine.

Instead of Secombe singing, you get a number of local performers who pad out most of the show. Bizarre is a kind way to describe them; their talent is either minimal or done poor justice by the flat style of director Alan Cullimore. Only a singer, Betty Ankers, ekes out a couple of engaging numbers; the rest are at best dull and at times, rather annoying.

Sellers plays five roles here. One, a milquetoast character named Cedric, is fun to watch for the two minutes you get with him, impressing a date with his bad French, but like the other parts he's an underwritten character. Clearly these were just improvised off-camera and then put on as soon as something vaguely amusing was developed.

Sellers was a comedy genius, but these were early days for him and his talent was never improvisatory. Goon fans seeking Milligan's crafty surrealism will be disappointed by the goofy faces and patter he puts on here in lieu of anything better. "Let's Go Crazy" is a milestone of sorts for Sellers fans, but a more honest title would be "Let's Go Splat."

Sellers and Milligan appear in this 33-minute short that is somewhat hit-or-miss but overall a very enjoyable selection of British vaudeville performers doing their routines on a cafe set left over from PENNY POINTS TO PARADISE (since the company had it rented for a week longer than it had taken to film that feature, they quickly arranged to make use of it in a short). It's sort of like a half-hour of Vitaphone shorts strung together with the thinnest of ad-libbed plot lines. Prints for both films were reconstructed to their original lengths from the original negative and surviving prints on 35mm and 16mm.

With this short film 'Let's Go Crazy' (Peter Sellers first time on screen, alongside with 'Penny Points to Paradise'), Sellers really showed from the start of his career, how funny he was when playing multiple characters, and off cause how masterminded his acting was at the same time, I'm not saying that this film is anywhere near perfect in its comedy, it just showed how capable Sellers was with creating smart and funny characters.

But if we just look away from Sellers for a moment, and look at what we else get out of this madcap of a film, and actually we get quite a lot out of 32 minutes of film. There is five songs, three orchestra numbers, one dancing number and then we get a very odd but entertaining performance by a very angry couple. To be honest I enjoyed some of the songs, just the old fifties feeling about the songs were very nostalgic, but I also think the whole film could have been much better, without all the disturbances by the orchestra and singing numbers, if we just had Sellers and Milligan playing alone, then we easily could have got an classic short film, but then again they only had three days to shoot it, so that is just me dreaming.

I just enjoyed the film for what it was, and smiled at the music performances as they came, but Peter Sellers is out of doubt the highlight of this character/music based short film, and the whole film is just a fun little pleasure to watch.

Recommended for fans of Peter Sellers!

This film is actually mainly interesting as a record in its own right of the local (?Brighton?) variety acts who were featured to fill out the running time; they are notable in two respects, in that by modern standards none of them are particularly glamorous-looking, and in that they are actually all pretty talented -- these are run of the mill and nowadays apparently forgotten pier-end performers of the day, as it were, and they're still entertaining to listen to. (The only act I really didn't take to was that of Freddie Mirfield and his Garbage Men, with their knockabout orchestral gags.)

The Goon Show contribution consists of various improvised comedy dialogues chiefly featuring Peter Sellers in a selection of different characters: his Groucho Marx impersonation is rather good, others vary. Considering that the whole thing was made up and then shot by Sellers and Spike Milligan in the course of a left-over week of studio time (remaining after shooting on "Penny Points to Paradise" had been completed), it's quite tolerable, but of course by no means a classic.