A Touch of the Sun

Frankie Howerd takes the leading role in this standard British farce that was so common in the late fifties and doesn't do a bad job either. Usually more familiar in a supporting role,he takes centre stage here and all the action revolves around him.

The basic plot is the grass isn't always greener on the other side as Frankie finds out when his desired dream to retire to the French Rivera is a complete disaster. Returning to the UK he buys his old employment hotel and has to convince three businessmen it's worth investing in. Cue lots of rushing about farce proceedings as Frankie makes the hotel look busy with his small staff putting on numerous disguises.

Still quite amusing and watchable for it's short running time but it's the little things that kept me interested. Most of all Frankie's strange 'Eraserhead' hairstyle, Alfie Bass,the atypical Jewish performer,playing a Yorkshireman! And Ruby Murray's appalling attempt at acting, thank goodness she has a nice singing voice that's all I can say....

An ambitious but fascinatingly shambolic attempt at a big screen vehicle for Frankie Howerd (that morphs into a rehash of 'The Happiest Days of Your Lives') that simply ensured that he henceforth concentrated on cabaret and TV.

The sleazy North Country financial backers played by Alfie Bass (who is hardly inside the door before he promptly propositions receptionist Dorothy Bromley with the smooth chat up line "Give us a kiss love!!") and Reginald Beckwith (who gets so drunk he propositions a dragged-up Howerd) demonstrated over sixty years before the Harvey Weinstein scandal that this sort of thing had been going on since the days of Herod.

Our boy Frankie comes into a sizeable amount of money as a hotel receptionist. After spending some of his money living it up in France, he decides to come back to London and buy up his old hotel. However, he needs some fincial backers who will only invest if the hotel is successful. Only problem is they have no guests, so the staff play the role of guests while still doing their jobs.

The film spends too much time with Frankie in France experiencing a series of contrived annoyances that eventually leads to his decision to come back to England.

This means there is little time to develop and run with the farce element of the film. The plots tries to be frenzied and amusingly chaotic, but it never really makes it. Everything runs far too smoothly. With no edge of the seat potential errors that could bring the entire ruse crashing down.

The film doesn't explore any comic potential such as regular faces being recognised as both staff and guest or people needing to be in two places at the same time. No quick changes no split-second timing.

As a result, the film trundles along at a pace with nothing really happening.

A forgetable film that is not worth remembering.

A surprisingly low key (for him!) performance from Frankie Howerd as a hotel concierge. He longs for the quiet life on the French Riviera and when he inherits some money off he goes.

However, despite his best efforts, he can't get any rest and decides to go back to the hotel. He then has to save the hotel from closing by persuading three "ey up, reet grand" northern businessmen to invest in the hotel. Of course he succeeds and gets the girl.

A cheerful British comedy helped along with able support from, Denis Price, Gordon Harker, Richard Wattis, Alfie Bas and Colin Gordon. Just enough laughs to cheer you up on a wet weekend!

Frankie Howerd began appearing in feature films in 1954 (THE RUNAWAY BUS), but by 1956 he had this comedy star vehicle, in which he truly shines. Back then, he was far more restrained than he became later. There were not so many oohs nor so much suggestive sexual innuendo as appeared in his later persona. Nor did he 'take over', but instead he played a role in a definable story. This film is extremely amusing, and works very well. It is good to see the excellent Gordon Harker lending his support, though I wished his role had been larger. A young Irish popular singer from Belfast named Ruby Murray, aged 21, is given a role in the film. It is the only film in which she ever appeared. She gets to sing, of course. Her acting is sweetly amateurish, which in my opinion only adds to her elfin charm. Pardon my ignorance of Irish singers of the 1950s, but I plead that one cannot know everything, and hence I have to confess I had never previously heard of her. But it seems that she was 'one of the most successful Irish singers of all time'. Well done, then, she and John MacCormack (a friend of my wife's grandparents). Ireland is 'busting out all over' with talent and always has been, and whether green or orange, they are all very charming, apart from the ones who blow everybody up, that is. (As someone who is both part Irish and part Ulster, I consider myself a potential cross-border phenomenon and wish they would just all learn how to get along and stop causing trouble.) Alfred Shaughnessy, later famous for writing the hit TV series UPSTAIRS DOWNSTAIRS (1971-1975), wrote the story and script for this film, and that helps explain why it is so good. There is plenty of wit, but the story is a satirical one. Frank Howerd plays a hall porter in a swank London hotel (swank for 1956, that is, though we would not call it that now) who inherits a lot of money from an elderly customer of the hotel who had taken a fancy to him. He quits his job and fulfils his dream of going off to the French Riviera to live the life of Riley (there's those Irish again), but finds it dull and empty so that he longs to go back to his old life. He uses what is left of his inherited fortune to buy the hotel where he once worked, but has none left for operations costs. For that, he is dependent upon a favourable investment decision by a group of three hard-nosed Yorkshire businessmen. The film has wonderful opportunities to make fun of the Yorkshiremen, with their clipped accents, bluntness, and naïve susceptibility to being impressed by titles. Frank gets his old chums who had been on the staff of the hotel before it closed to come and work for free while the Yorkshiremen visit, but to dress up in outrageous disguises (he himself masquerades successfully as a duchess!) to try to fool the potential investors into believing that the failed hotel is a centre of high society, patronised by the rich and titled. There are many opportunities for high comedy as the staff rush from room to room changing costumes and wigs, to maintain the fiction. This is all good fun, and will cheer up anybody suffering from a dreary, wet British afternoon.