On n'y joue qu'à deux

British-made comedy-drama about an unfulfilled Welsh librarian and family man who contemplates having an affair with the library chairman's flirtatious wife. As played by Peter Sellers (in a benign performance earmarked by the actor's charming aloofness), this character is both ridiculous and endearing eyeing the bums and breasts of Welsh's finest femmes, but the kitchen-sink dynamics of the story never really take hold. The film does have something to say about working-class marriages and lives stuck in a rut, but screenwriter Bryan Forbes can't seem to work big laughs into the narrative, and as a result the picture isn't more than faintly amusing. These type of "oh no, my husband's come home!" situations were surely hoary even in 1962, however Sellers has a nice way of turning the hum-drum into sprightly, if low-keyed, human angst; one is drawn to even the smallest gestures on the basis of his charisma alone. Peter has a wonderful moment kissing Mai Zetterling behind a sheer curtain, and a marvelously-observed bit interviewing for a higher position in the library. His talk of jetting off to parts unknown recalls later studies such as "Charlie Bubbles", and the upbeat ending is cute if utterly unrealistic. **1/2 from ****

Peter Sellers was always at his best in this type of local comedy. His randy Welsh librarian, frustrated with his dead-end job, has a part-time job as a reporter on the local newspaper, doing reviews of the local repertory theatre. We see his dreary home life; his long-suffering wife - a lovely performance from Virginia Maskell; his interchanges with his hypochondriac neighbour - Kenneth Griffiths. Enter the glamorous Mai Zetterling, wife of the local big-wig (Raymond Huntley)and Seller's life is catapulted into confusions. A chance of promotion - in exchange for sexual favours with Mai - catapults him into a sequence of very funny situations. One, a confrontation with an avant-garde poet/playwright - a beautiful cameo role by Richard Attenborough - is hilarious and the whole film progresses at a very satisfying pace, never descending in to farce. It would be nice to have it available in DVD format. It is a much better example of some of Seller's work, such as the farcical Pink Panther froth.

I remember seeing this on late night when I was about 10 and along with The Mouse that Roared turned me into a Peter Sellers fan for life! I really prefer his early British films, although he was great in Strangelove and as Clouseau. I'm Allright, Jack is a particular favorite, along with The Naked Truth, Heavens Above!, The Smallest Show on Earth, and Carleton Browne of the F.O.

This is a sly, personal film about marriage and infidelity and it was nice to see director Mai Zetterling in a role that suited her. With all the blockbuster junk-filled spectacles, there will always be a place for wonderful little films like this.

This is a terrific example of a number of little English gems that Sellers made before his international stardom as Inspector Clouseau in the Pink Panther. The writing and directing are wonderful as is the great black and white cinematography that captures a dismal Welsh mining town. See it if you can find it.

Understated comedic drama stars the sardonic Sellers as a Welsh librarian, bored by the blandness of his job and domestic labours, who develops a pathological weakness for women to fill the void, shamelessly flirting with customers, neighbours teetering on the brink of adultery at virtually every turn. He meets married well-to-do Liz (Zetterling) and the two become embroiled in a relationship that threatens to escalate into infidelity, though neither seem capable of consummating the sexual innuendo that's beckoning a heated interlude.

Virginia Maskell is first-rate as Sellers' stay-at-home wife, chained to the kitchen sink of life with two ankle-biters for whom to care while her husband attends literary parties and engages in dalliances at her expense. Maskell is clearly a cut above the hijinks, though Sellers is equally adept with this type of dry comedy and the two trade some very witty and at times poignant dialogue. It's a shame that Maskell couldn't capitalise on her talent, as she would have been destined for great performances, had she lived longer.

Kenneth Griffith plays Sellers' henpecked friend, while Graham Stark has a small role as an unwelcome library patron whose choice of book and subsequent indulgence ("yes I can see you enjoyed it") places Sellers under a great test of sufferance. That's future "Q" Desmond Llewellyn as a vicar aboard Sellers' daily bus route.

Astute dialogue, both sharp in its observations, and otherwise very witty ("how about the complete history of codpieces"), some sombre and pointed, "Only Two Can Play" is a measured study of unrealised ambition and the weight of everyday domestic pressures. Probably not for the casual Sellers' fan club, but should certainly keep others entertained, whether you're after dry humour or bittersweet drama.