A small-town salesman, George Bird, learns that he is suffering from an incurable condition, leaving him only weeks to live. With no family or friends to care for, he decides to spend his modest savings on his first and last stay in a grand hotel.
The other guests soon notice that he is new to hotel life, and react to him in different ways - some disdainful, some intrigued and friendly. These guests reflect the old English class-system, with its myriad of sub-classes, starting to die out by 1950, largely because of the left-wing postwar government that had been so championed by J.B. Priestley, author of this screenplay.
Before long, Bird's life seems to be opening out, with job-offers, investment opportunities, even a chance of love. A bitter irony of course, as these opportunities will never be enjoyed (or so we are to assume).
The comfortable hotel life gets a jolt when the staff are suddenly called-out on strike, instantly shaking-up the class-system, as all the guests have now got to try to pitch-in and help, as best they can. This provides for a number of accidental meetings that move the plot forward dramatically. And the effect on Bird's humdrum life, suddenly turned roller-coaster, is dramatic indeed.
Interesting to see the yet-undiscovered Sid James as a dodgy gambler, and David McCallum's father (also David) on the violin, beginning and ending the story with a simple but curiously haunting theme.
For a film that has given so much pleasure - check the other IMDb reviews - it may seem spoilsport to suggest that Alec Guinness does not quite carry conviction as such a small and narrow character as Bird. This is someone who just earns his daily pittance and then goes home to read the paper and smoke his pipe. For this role, Guinness simply looks and sounds too cultivated, too sociable, altogether too biddable. (Ironically there was a character actor called Norman Bird, who would have been perfect!)
