User reviews

Housemaster" is a very good British comedy that stars American Otto Kruger who had taken a break from Hollywood to make a few movies in England. The film is based on a play of the same title by Ian Hay. A host of mostly British actors of the day fill out this story of a housemaster at an all boys' school. Mayhem sets in for Charles Donkin when the three Farington girls and their aunt and guardian, Barbara Fane, arrive to take up lodging with him. He's sort of an "uncle" to the girls, having been the one-time sweetheart of their mother, who has now been dead for 14 years. Fane was bringing them to England to get them away from Paris, which she says "is demoralizing them." To which Donkin replies, "Nonsense - they're demoralizing Paris."

While the girls add a good deal of the humor in this film, Charles presides as the senior housemaster at the school which has had a new headmaster, the Rev Edmund Ovington. Prominent English actor Kynaston Reeves plays the somber faced and no-nonsense reformer/organizer who sees any fun on the part of the boys as lack of character -- and demanding of restrictions. Cecil Parker, Diana Churchill, and Phillips Holmes are among the rest of the cast in this very good comedy. Unfortunately, the quality of the film I watched is not very good. At least some of that appears to be in the production. This was not a Gaumont, Gainsborough or Ealing Studios film, but one made by a lesser company at the time - Associated British Pictures Corp.

While humor is the forte of this film, Donkin gives the boys of his house a farewell talk with sage advice. "Never be false - or, if you prefer it, always be loyal," he tells them. "Even though sometimes it may be against your own conviction. Be infinitely considerate of other people's feelings. That is what is meant by that much maligned phrase about being a gentleman. And, lastly, but very briefly - speak the truth. Believe me, of all the methods that have been tried by great men from Machiavelli down to his present-day imitators, speaking the truth has always served man best... And us, as a nation, best. Now, would you just try to bear these three tips in mind?"

There are some instances of playful chicanery on the part of the girls and some of the boys, and poignant or funny bits of dialog throughout. But the comedic coup de grace is by Donkin in the end when he tells Rosemary to go ask Barbara how everything has worked out. Rosemary will be surprised to find out that the girls' scheme didn't work, but something much better is in store for all. Only Donkin knows the whole outcome for everyone, as he settles down before the fireplace with his pipe and newspaper word puzzle.

This is a wonderful comedy, simple on the surface but quite sophisticated as well. Here are some more favorite lines.

Charles Donkin, "Now, in the future use a little sense. If the headmaster sees fit to put the plantation out of bounds, why go there? And if you must go there, don't try and get caught."

Charles Donkin, "And may I ask why Barbara communicates with me through you? I've known her as long as you have." Frank Hastings, "Not quite. I introduced you to Barbara and to Angela at a ball." Donkin, "Imagine us at a ball. Well, you anyway."

Frank Hastings, "Do you mind if I open one of these windows? You can't breathe the same air as you did yesterday, you know?

Barbara Fane, going to open the French door, "You can't breathe the same air as you did yesterday, you know?" Charles Donkin, "I seem to have heard that somewhere before."

Barbara Fane, "Just before we left, Aubrey said the most extraordinary thing." Charles Donkin, "What'd he say?" Barbara, "If my darling Angela had had any sense, those children would have been Charles Donkin's, not mine" Charles, "What infernal chic. If Angela had married me, our children wouldn't have been any resemblance to these little horrors." Barbara, "Oh, I think you're the most cruel, heartless man I know." Charles, "I'm not cruel and I'm not heartless." Barbara, "Yes, you are." Charles, "I'm not."

Frank Hastings, "In some ways, Farington, you're a genius. You can translate English into a Greek not spoken in Greece, and Latin into an English not spoken anywhere.

Frank Hastings, "Ignorance is bad enough. Cheating is abominable."

Charles Donkin, "The boys won't like their privileges being tampered with." Rev. Ovington, "That is the perfectly natural reaction of all boys toward anything that is good for them."

Charles Donkin, "Eh, time for prayers. Put out your cigar, you're coming with me." Sir Berkeley Nightingale, "Why?" Donkin, "Oh, it brightens up the boys to see an odd face occasionally." Sir Nightingale, "What do you mean, odd, hmmm?"

Rev. Ovington, "A boy is not a reasoning animal."

Charles Donkin, "You are set in authority over 500 of the oddest, shyest, most observant, most critical and least articulate creatures that God ever made. And you treat them as if they were the occupants of a particularly insensitive oyster bed. You've trampled on their most cherished traditions." Rev. Ovington, "It is sometimes necessary to trample on traditions." Donkin, "But not with hobnailed boots."

Sir Berkeley Nightingale, "I hope that settles your little housing problem." Charles Donkin, "You wire-pulling old reprobate."

Rosemary Farington, "Charles, Philip and I want to go to Vienna and be married. Do you mind?" Charles Donkin, "Yes, I do. Get married and then go to Vienna."

Charles Donkin, holding Rosemary, "My wise Angela." Rosemary, "Rosemary, darling." Charles, shaking his head, "Angela."

There were lots of public school films in the thirties.On the one side are the Will Hay films and the other Goodbye Mr Chips.This falls somewhere in the middle.You think there is going to be a really dramatic climactic confrontation.Sadly it all falls flat.Otto Kruger is the parachuted in American star.He made a number of films for ABPC.There is a truly awful process sequence at the riverside.Gives an idea of the level of the budget.Little wonder this film is forgotten

It's School days again, and the setting is a senior boys' public school, Marbledown, during the late 1930s, a glimpse of a traditional scholastic way of life that had remained largely unchanged for a century or more. Along comes a reforming headmaster, Rev Edmund Ovington, played with distant icy coldness by the superb Kynaston Reeves, who, to the chagrin of the long serving senior masters, undertakes several unpopular reforms, culminating in a 'mutiny' when he bans the school from attending the town regatta, a popular annual rowing extravaganza, reminiscent of Henley.

The changing way of life can now be viewed in the context of the coming of the Second World War, for, not long after this film was completed, British PM Neville Chamberlain had returned from Munich and was to be seen waving an historic piece of paper, referring to it as 'peace in our time', the appeasement with Hitler, from the upstairs window of number 10, Downing Street, to the rapturous cheers from a huge crowd, in those innocent prewar days long before the installation of iron security gates to keep out the intruder from within.

The film is all about changing times and the threat to traditional, established values. Otto Kruger, the house master of the film's title, highly suspects the intrusion of red tape, in the form of interim reports, a comment very apposite to present day teaching. One can just imagine him as a present day teacher of the old school, bemoaning the imposition of learning outcomes, value added and attainment targets. Besides, headmaster Ovington even has a typewriter! Kruger, in his brief foray into British films before returning to Hollywood, plays house master Donkin with an affable authority, siding with his old friend, house master Hastings, when the latter describes Michael Shepley's junior master Beamish as an 'uncouth modern product'.

The blast of change is personified in the plot when four females dare to penetrate this male stronghold. Their relationship to Donkin is never fully explained, but it is inferred that the guardian of the three young ladies, Barbara Fane, is the sister of Donkin's one time fiancée, Angela, who had died some fourteen years earlier. The three 'children' are Rosemary, deliciously portrayed by Diana Churchill, who later forsook a highly promising film career to care for her ailing husband, the actor Barry K Barnes, Chris, a chirpy, bright Rene Ray, and Button, a teenage tomboy, beautifully played by Rosamund Barnes, who utters the immortal words, 'funny peculiar.. or funny ha ha'? to an enquiring Rosemary. To add to the violation of traditional mores, Button is the twin of Bimbo, a boy in Donkin's house, who, having been caught out in a minor misdemeanour, accepts with stoicism five strokes of the cane at the beginning of the film. And yet, throughout the film, Donkin retains the trust and affection of the boys in his care.

As the film's plot develops, there is a masterly synthesis which can be directly attributed to Ian Hay's remarkable and utterly believable denouement, and Dudley Leslie's fine screen adaptation: Rosemary falls for De Pourville, a timid musician who can't keep control of science lessons, and whom the girls run over when they first arrive at the school, eventually giving him the courage to stand up to the class and discipline the ringleader. Eventually, following Donkin's fatherly advice, Rosemary induces De Pourville to marry her. Phillips Holmes plays a warm, vulnerable suitor, and his performance is a fitting personal memorial, as he was killed in action, serving in the Canadian Air Force in 1942.

The end of the film arrives almost unexpectedly. Donkin has resigned, having been accused by the head of encouraging the boys to flout his latest edict, by attending the fair, a sin made even more grievous in the company of Rosemary, Chris and Button. Donkin's friend, Sir Berkeley, uses his influence to create a sinecure post of the 'Suffragan Bishop of Outer London', a semblance of promotion which the haughty, self righteous Ovington is only too glad to accept. Hastings will marry Barbara Fane, belatedly revealing to an incredulous Donkin that they have been secretly engaged for years, leaving Chris and Button to return to France, their father having married again. Donkin is the new headmaster, and all is now well with the world; equilibrium has been restored, and the old way of life is safe in his hands.

The old has been challenged by the new, and, by and large, the old triumphs. Even so, through an excellent script and expert interplay of characters, the audience is left with the realisation that 'the times they are a changing'. Perhaps, if only we admitted it, we are all much happier in the familiar scenes of yesteryear, taking a stroll down memory lane - surely much safer than the onset of stark reality.

Scottish dramatist Ian Hay contributed numerous memorable lines to his well-finished plays, several in collaboration with P.G. Wodehouse, and this film transposes one of his works very niftily indeed, marked as it is by top-flight direction, cinematography and acting, notable even during the time it was released, although lamentably neglected today. The script, as adapted by Dudley Leslie, blessedly retains a good portion of Hay's sly dialogue, and features events at a boys school in England, where a new headmaster, Mr. Ovington "the Egg" (the acerbic Kynaston Reeves), has been administering increasingly stricter disciplinary measures, to the consternation of the boys and the distaste of Charles Donkin (Otto Kruger), one of the housemasters, which latter must deal next with an onset of three young ladies and their guardian, from Paris, who will be staying as his unexpected guests, resulting in a gratifying assortment of romantic, humourous and poignant episodes. The elegant Kruger obviously relishes his part, and Reeves is magnificent as his cold-spirited superior, while the supporting cast mates well from top to bottom with the quick-moving scenario's business, with Cecil Parker a standout, as ever. Director Herbert Brenon understands stage as well as screen performing, with decades of experience with both, and artistically controls the film's development, much abetted by tasteful camerawork by the veteran German, Otto Kanturek, with emphasis from both upon clarity, limning such lines as Hay's "What do you mean, funny? Funny peculiar or funny ha-a?", still in common parlance six decades and more later.