Jolly driver

What is to be said in the favour of Adventures of a Taxi Driver? Very little, it's sad to say. The film gives new meaning to the term second hand: it's a rip-off of the Robin Askwith Confessions series of sex comedies, which themselves were already sub-Carry On crossed with continental saucy fare. Taxi Driver also mixes in elements of Alfie (the direct to camera narration of the Lothario protagonist), On the Buses (the bickering family arguments) and British B movies of the early 60s involving petty crime. This wholesale appropriation of other people's ideas might be acceptable if they were used here with any skill or aplomb; as it is, the film is tedious, plot less, poorly directed and almost aggressively unfunny. It's attitude to women is dismissive and offensive, and even the usually charming Barry Evans - who made the infantile and racist sitcom Mind Your Language palatable - is heavy handed and dislikeable here.

The few pluses include good comic turns from Adrienne Posta and Diana Dors, a winsome performance from Marc Harrison as Evans' thieving brother and the chance to see, briefly, Stephan Lewis doing Blakey as a strip-show doorman. There's also some intriguing footage of mid-70s Soho which might be of value to social historians.

I suppose that the film does capture a certain mood of cultural desperation which clearly reigned in the UK at the time. Evans' sexual shennanigans seem like the last resort of a man with nothing else to do; the sexual revolution has failed to make life interesting, as people are just as boorish and neurotic and dumb as they ever were. Whether this is a real reflection of the times or merely the projection of the filmmakers' own limited intelligence and wit is a matter of conjecture, although the huge box office success of the film suggests that it did offer the film-going population something they could respond to.

Although the film is about sexual adventures, the sex scenes themselves are as sexy as bromide, with not a single moment of chemistry between Evans (who was gay in reality) and the various women he disrobes.

I have now seen more British sex comedies than any non-British- compulsive-pud-puller-from-the-1970's by all rights should have. The best of this genre (relatively speaking, of course) is the "Confessions of" series, of which this an obvious--and clearly inferior--knock-off. Still, it's also better than stuff like "The Amorous Milkman" and the "What's Up" series (and I'm sure I've only begun to plumb the dismal depths of this genre). This movie, as you might guess, is about the adventures of a taxi driver. Like 'the "Confessions of" series it purports to be somewhat realistic slice-of-life look at the earthy British working-class (but I suspect that if the actual British working class were all getting laid this much, they wouldn't have always been angry and on strike in the 70's). This movie isn't any less realistic than the "Confessions of" series, but it's a lot less funny. And Barry Evans is not nearly as charming and likable as Robin Askwith, let alone Michael Caine (he is always turning around and talking into the camera like Cain in "Alfie").

But--let's face it--nobody really watched these movies for the comedy or for the male lead. And the female cast here is pretty impressive. Judy Geeson has one of those irritating roles of a stripper who we never actually see strip, but she is pretty funny as the Evan's roommate's girlfriend whose pet snake ("part of my act") creates much mayhem. Anna (daughter of Igemar) Bergman plays a fellow stripper who DOES strip and who later gives the protagonist a good sound shagging. The producers apparently couldn't get Linda Hayden from the "Confessions of" series, so they got the next best thing--her younger sister Jane, who Evan's character rescues from a suicide attempt and almost scores with. 50's bombshell Liz Frazier ("I'm Alright Jack") has a genuinely funny role as a prostitute who has a little, uh, accident with a very unfortunate client in the back of the hero's cab. And Angela Scoular and Prudence Drage have small parts (but clearly saved the producers a lot on wardrobe costs). Only Adrienne Posta is kind of irritating as Evan's oft-cuckolded fiancée (she's supposed to be irritating, but she REALLY overdoes it). She also belts out the horrid theme song "My Cruisin' Casanova" (it's no wonder the British Empire collapsed).

I wouldn't recommend this to anyone who doesn't already have some misbegotten affection for this genre, but you could do worse I guess.

Despite this being a real adventure, and a lot of Brit fun, especially when you have a very likable actor in it, this is of course, is just an excuse for a T and A romp. Yes it's a lot of saucy fun, and we know exactly where this film is heading or what kind of film it is, if good looking Evans is involved. The film has no plot, but some familiar faces, especially the very talented Judy Geeson, the girlfriend of Evans's friend. His home life is no picnic, his taxi, the only form of release, and sanctuary where we see him do a few dames, one an older, and hot one who gets locked outside her two story house, which ends with a very familiar clichéd scene in a bathtub, like those in the Confession's movies. It becomes quite a frustrating scene, rather than amusing. We also have a staged taxi hold up, that was a surprise I liked. Poor Evans does cop it, either from his nagging Mum who can't cook, and a harping girlfriend, any guy would righteously strangle. There are funny moments, the most humorous part is in it's starting, where the film takes digs at taxi drivers. One truly unforgivable, but cutely forgivable blooper was Evans ducking back into his taxi naked, after a close call at that married woman's house earlier, where he's in full view, of a female fuzz, walking towards him. Why do I like this bad movie? 1. The soundtrack, 2. The T and A aspect, and 3. Evans, a not so fortunate actor when measured against his talent, and tragically, his suspected murder. One scene, totally unwarranted, was the weird conversation, mostly on Judy's part, where Geeson's' boyfriend asks her to choose between him or her beloved Python. The end scene that marked the return of that sexy suicide jumper, provided the most memorable line. Just watch and enjoy.

The first in a series of abysmal Confessions-wannabes, the Adventures trilogy are sterile, desperately unfunny sex comedies, with horrendous direction and dire production values.

The first starred a miscast Barry Evans, trying hard to be laddish but drawing somewhat short. He's a sensitive chap, the sort that can tell "whether a bird's had a right good seeing-to the night before" and cheers himself up by "picking up a bit of crumpet." Evans's constant talking straight to camera is supposed to be endearing, but it's really just irritating. Christopher Neil's Bob West made this a more likeable trait in Adventures of a Private Eye, though it was toned down and notably dropped altogether for the third film in the franchise.

The series always goes farther than Confessions ever did, too. So that while Timmy Lea's escapades were really the next generation of Carry Ons with a few more boobs, the Adventures have a slightly nasty edge. After four weeks of watching Robin Askwith's rear end it's a shock to see Evans's and Neil's willy flapping all over the place, and the sex scenes are notably more graphic. In particular, a scene intimating a woman being penetrated by a snake lurches the film towards X-rated territory. Sex with animals seemed to be a particular preoccupation of the series, with the second sequel, Plumber's Mate, featuring a coupling with a mouse. Look out too for pathetically staged "squashed cat" scenario (cue man off camera making unconvincing "cat" noises), the nadir of Plumber's Mate, one of the most amateurish films I've ever seen.

On the subject of the sequels, Private Eye surprises by being halfway decent, though still cries out for incidental music to perk up the somewhat lifeless atmosphere. Even performing the theme song, Christopher Neil gives a zippy, amiable performance, something he was unable to do with the obnoxious character of Sid South in Plumber's Mate. One thing the series did bring to the proceedings was plots, so much so that Private Eye even largely forgets to put the sex into sex comedy. It takes away the nasty edge for once, and is more traditionally humorous. (Basically, it's got some jokes in it.)

But back to Taxi Driver, a picture that never gets started. The irksome theme tune is sung twice during the movie in a flagging bid to pep up proceedings, and five times as an instrumental. David Brierley (One of the K-9s from Doctor Who, no less!) provides an opening monologue, juxtaposing images of cab life with an upbeat narration. So then when he talks about the "gallant knights of the road", we see a cabbie flicking the v-sign, and so on. And on. And on. Like the rest of the films pace, it's a joke that wears thin after the first three seconds, and positively aches by being extended past its natural lifespan.

Transvestites, prostitutes and oral sex references, the weirdest thing about all this is that this sexist tripe was written by a woman.

Never one to pass up a good band wagon he could hop onto, small time independent producer Stanley Long saw the benefits major player Columbia was reaping from its innocuously naughty CONFESSIONS series with Robin Askwith portraying hapless Timothy Lea and decided that, yes, he would have a bit of that ! Already beaten to the punch as far as peeping tom window cleaners and pop performers knee-deep in groupies were concerned, he and regular screenwriter Suzanne Mercer (ironically, herself a reformed groupie and author of the supposedly autobiographical script for Long's surprise smash hit GROUPIE GIRL) turned their attentions towards another profession legendary for its lusty Lotharios, the London cabbie ?!

Now you must understand something about the British sex comedy and, by extension, the British themselves. These frothy farces play much like popular TV sitcoms like, say, ON THE BUSES or SOME MOTHERS DO 'AVE 'EM but with a little bit of what the goggle box would not allow in the form of nowadays - and actually even back then - really rather tame nudity, made to seem a lot dirtier by the leering, wink-wink, nudge-nudge approach. As any attempt at genuine eroticism made domestic audiences uncomfortable, evoked by disappointing box office takings for the likes of Henry Herbert's AWAKENING OF EMILY and Chris Boger's CRUEL PASSION, this tits 'n' titters combo proved just the meal ticket Long was looking for, jump-starting a separate series that ran for three episodes (subsequent installments concerning private detectives and...plumbers ?!) with several more planned that sadly (?) went unrealized.

Adhering to tried and true formula, Long secured the talents of Barry Evans (star of the hit TV show DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE and its follow-up DOCTOR AT LARGE) for the central part of working class laddie Joe North and surrounded him with many comfortingly familiar faces for the home viewing audience he was trying to lure away from their sets with the promise of T&A. Post-war British bombshell Diana Dors had a few funny scenes as Joe's loud-mouthed single mom with three kids sired by different dads and was starting to carve out a niche as a sexploitation character actress since American director Joe Sarno had cast her as the whorehouse Madam in EVERY AFTERNOON. Formerly respectable comedienne Liz Fraser showed no shame as kindhearted working girl Maisie in one of the film's best gags when Joe's sudden slamming the brakes makes her back seat fellatio end in tears. Already a sitcom veteran by her mid-20s, Adrienne Posta gives it her all as our hero's obnoxious fiancée Carol.

Plot, such as it is, concerns Joe trying to leave an overpopulated homestead by working long hours as a London cab driver and the outrageous scrapes he gets himself into, effectively breaking down the narrative into a series of sketches building variety show style towards punchlines. Joe shacks up with buddy Tom, a greasy mechanic played in an early professional assignment by Robert Lindsay, best know for heading the cast of long-running BBC sitcom MY FAMILY, who has just moved in with sweet stripper Nikki (Blighty cinema royalty Judy Geeson, who doesn't bare much of anything, profession notwithstanding) who keeps a python around the house as part of her act. One of the more extended stretches has the trio inviting Nikki's fellow stripper Helga (Anna Bergman, Ingmar's daughter, making her Brit sex film debut) over for a game of strip poker, ending in a bedroom romp with Joe, rudely interrupted by Carol. A bungled diamond heist takes up flick's latter part in a fruitless effort to tie up loose ends.

Technically on the crude side with flat, colorless cinematography by Peter Sinclair (who would shoot Madonna's legendary Like a Virgin video), movie's not without its share of laughs for the undemanding. The late Prudence Drage (also in Martin Campbell's ESKIMO NELL and Derek Ford's SEXPLORER) has a field day as an upper-crust pick-up who bemoans the clothing industry's poor workmanship as her fancy frock "accidentally" falls to the floor. Respected denizen of stage and screen Angela Scoular, who played Cathy in a '60s BBC version of WUTHERING HEIGHTS, performs surprisingly extensive nudity as the wife of a wealthy businessman who has inadvertently locked herself out of the house and winds up sharing a particularly uncomfortable bubble bath with Joe. Benny Hill's straight man Henry McGee turns up as the police inspector in film's final scene. Long most obviously flirted with the CONFESSIONS franchise by casting its leading lady Linda Hayden's sister Jane as suicide-prone drama queen Linda (!) in an amusing bit with DAD'S ARMY's Ian Lavender.