Adventures of a Private Eye

I thought that, by working backwards through the 'Adventures of…' films, I might see a slight rise in quality with each one I watch, ending with the best, but that is most definitely not the case: in fact, Adventures of a Private Eye, the middle film in the 'trilogy', is so diabolical that it's a wonder they ever made a third film.

The action starts in expected low-rent Confessions knock-off style, with private eye assistant Bob West (Christopher Neil) unable to resist taking over the role of detective while his womanising boss (Jon Pertwee) is out of the office for a few days. Agreeing to help sexy Laura Sutton (Suzy Kendall), who is being blackmailed for £50k, he takes off for the countryside to see which of the other potential heirs to Laura's late husband's fortune could be the the extortionist. As the silly plot progresses, the film turns into a very tired murder/mystery farce, albeit one with plenty of gratuitous nudity and soft-core sex featuring some very attractive British babes.

A cavalcade of crass and not in the least bit funny japes, Private Eye is a sorry state of affairs that makes even the weakest of the Confessions movies look like pure comedic genius. But what is REALLY sad about this film is seeing such a talented cast of British comic actors going to such waste: among those given absolutely nothing to work with are Irene Handl, Diana Dors, Liz Fraser, Harry H. Corbett, Willie Rushton, and Ian Lavender.

2.5/10, generously rounded up to 3 for the nostalgia factor, the film showing me West Byfleet Railway Station in all of its 70s glory and an early appearance by Peter Moran, who would go on to play obnoxious ginger Pogo Patterson in classic kids' TV series Grange Hill.

Exactly what you'd expect: a passable piece of comedic mystery whose main purpose is a wrap around for its infrequent eroticism involving women who don't skip meals. (nice).

I actually really love this fantasy of eccentric British Aristocrats it recreates.

British pop singer Christopher Neil stars in this Carry On film Adventures Of A Private Eye. It has the look of a Carry On movie without the cast of Carry On regulars.

Cinema fans will also recognize the plot premise from Bob Hope's comedy from the 40s My Favorite Brunette. That's the one where Hope is asked by Alan Ladd to watch his office and take messages. Of course Hope decides he'd rather survey Dorothy Lamour.

Neil has the same situation as Jon Pertwee just asks him to mind the store, but Neil wants a chance to soar and Suzy Kendall certainly makes him soar.

In fact this film has the look and feel and general raunchiness of a Carry On film. But it would have been so much better with Carry On regulars.

All B-Movie boggled eyes are sure to be on glistering Giallo Glamour Girl Suzy Kendall who sizzles sensationally in serial smut-wrangler Stanley A. Long's riotously ribald, stupendously silly, bra-burstingly boorish comedy misadventure 'Adventures of a Private Eye' (1977). Witness the blissfully bawdy, barrel scraping buffoonery of charisma-challenged Christopher Neil's brainlessly bumbling private dick enthusiastic attempts to get to the bottom of things, and frequently getting more than his own knickers in a twist!!! One of muck maestro Stanley Long's frivolously frothy, fitfully filthy film's many highlights is the legitimately fabulous burlesque routine by the distractingly delicious Adrienne Posta, energetically performing her rewardingly 'not-so private', eye-catchingly exotic Liza Minnelli Cabaret routine! The more forgiving fans of prosaic Carry on-style pratfalls, dribble-entendres, juvenile jackanapes, and grubby-fingered, saucy postcard piffle will certainly dig on the asinine antics and retrograde tomfoolery of Christopher Neil's scurrilously salacious sleuth, plus the surprisingly glittering cast is a burnished Brit-cult dream, featuring the estimable acting talents of Jon Pertwee, Harry H Corbett, Diana Dors, Ian Lavender, Anna Quale, Irene Handle, Liz Frazer and William Rushton.

'The 'Adventures of a Private Eye' is an unapologetically lurid, lowbrow B-Movie bacchanal of puerile bottom-pinching perfidy, and, sadly, we shall never see it's inglorious like again!

Adventures of a Private Eye introduces us to a number of dense, almost unsolvable mysteries: has Britain ever produced a worse director than Stanley A. Long? why does Long not know, despite spending over 15 years in the film business prior to making this film, how to pace a sequence or end one on a proper punchline? why does he hire enormously talented actors like Harry H. Corbett, Irene Handl, Diana Dors, Jon Pertwee, Anna Quayle and Julien Orchard and give them absolutely nothing to do? why did 70s English audiences flock to see absolute rubbish like this in their droves? It can't be the sex, as compared to the likes of the then-contemporary Swedish and French cinema, there's hardly any flesh on display here, and none of it is even remotely erotic; nor can it be the comedy, which is a lot of things (incompetent, mean spirited, offensive, banal, ignorant, half-hearted, old hat) but not even remotely funny; it can't be the story, which makes British comedy capers of the period which were less successful at the Box Office (House in Nightmare Park for example) look like Chinatown.

To be fair, Private Dick is a smidgeon better than the first entry into the series, purely because it actually has some kind of story as opposed to being a merely string of idiot vignettes. And the film does look good, especially on the new Region 2 Dvds, where the gorgeous lighting of the interiors and night time scenes is genuinely impressive (catch the shot of photographer Scott walking towards the mansion after dark, the screen awash with breathtaking colours). And Adrienne Posta does a mean Liza Minelli impression, supported would you believe by the boy from the Tomorrow People playing a Bugsy Malone-type Italian gangster, all school play amateurism and elbows.

"Bloody amateurs" is a phrase a police inspector in the film uses about private eyes, and it's apt given the star of the movie can't act: Christopher Neil is a nullity into oblivion as the title character, taking over from Barry Evans (who instead chose to appear in the flop sex comedy Under the Doctor). Yet another document on the sexual, spiritual and social dereliction of the UK in the 1970s. It does bear the distinction of having a cameo by Shaw Taylor, tipping the wink to TV's then current Police 5, which just goes to show how narrowly culturally specific an audience of TV morons the producer was aiming at with this.