Guest Post: The Magic of Carry On

I’ve only ever left a theatrical performance before its conclusion once, just once. Such is my hope that things must improve that I’ll sit through anything to the bitter end, often just so I have the complete right to complain about the experience afterwards. How else can you really be sure of the calibre of the dross? But as the curtain fell for the intermission of Jim Dale’s final night of his one-man show, ‘Just Jim Dale’, I leaned over to my wife and whispered “we’re not coming back for the second half” and we left. Why? Because that night Jim Dale revealed to me something I wasn’t expecting, that he has no talent. His music hall song and dance, his japes and funny stories, made me die a little. I had to get out of there, before he stole the magic of Carry On from me forever.
There can’t be many film makers that have created a genre, a genre that only they are able to continue. But that’s what Peter Rogers and Gerald Thomas started when they produced the first of what would become a series of 31 Carry On feature films for cinema. And that’s just the ones that carry the official name. Between 1958 and 1992, a hectic filming schedule would normally see 2 films released a year for an audience that, during its heyday, couldn’t get enough of them. Carry On conjures up images of bikini clad Babs, Egyptian tomfoolery, and sexual exploitation. It’s only possible to describe them in one way, by the name of their genre: Carry On.
Most are drawn to the more elaborate historical features they produced, which are certainly impressive, especially considering the incredibly tight budgets they were made under. For me one of the most impressive period outings happens to also be the greatest Western of all time, Carry on Cowboy. Which has all the required tropes, melted down and combined with constant Carry On wit to produce 93 minutes of superb cinema. All filmed in Surrey and Buckinghamshire, so no spaghetti on this western. Cowboy is placed at what could be argued the second slot in the run of truly iconic Carry On, starting with Carry On Cleo and ending with Carry On Behind. That’s a run of 18 consecutive films showcasing the very best of British cinema. Well, maybe not Carry on Henry, or …Girls. Though …Girls does have the strange pull of having all of Valerie Leon’s lines dubbed over by June Whitfield, who also stars in the same film. Whitfield doesn’t alter her voice in any way so it’s like she’s talking to herself at times, albeit via a bit of body snatching. The DVD commentary doesn’t help explain matters as Whitfield herself claims to not remember dubbing over the actress.
Personally, I find myself drawn to the contemporary, ‘present day’\1970’s features more than the historical ones, as they appeal to the 70’s sitcom style of living that I most envy. Who wouldn’t want to live in the same street as Sid (James) or Bernie (Bernard Bresslaw)? Setting off on a roadtrip to find that elusive nudist campsite, or going on a work’s away day to the seaside? My favourite in the whole series, …Abroad is the last outing for the ultimate team of James, Bresslaw, Babs Windsor, Joan Simms, Hattie Jacques, Kenneth Williams, Kenneth Connor, and Charles Hawtrey. The dream team. Hawtrey’s drinking had become such a problem that he’s clearly pissed in several scenes, and the producers called time on him, recasting James Logan in his role in the next outing, …Girls. Carry On Abroad features some of the best in farce, where not only do the rooms of their hotel in the Spanish resort of Els Bels all have shared bathrooms, there’s a chronic understaffing problem and the builders haven’t even completed the roof yet. Comedy gold ensues. Like …Cowboy, this film also takes a record, in this case for the best one liner in cinema when Sid is introducing his wife to their fellow holiday makers: “This is the wife… don’t laugh.”
Even when the classic Carry On mould is changed, removing James, Bresslaw, Jacques or Windsor, the magic is still there and garners amazing results, like we see in …Behind. The Carry On formula comes from the creators, rather than the players, and this alone is enough explanation as to why Jim Dale’s one-man show could be so woeful, when he has achieved such greatness in his Carry On past. Take away the formula, and Dale falls flat on his face, when he should really be riding a hospital bed down a staircase.
It could be argued that Carry On just boils down to the smut and misogyny of a bygone era, full of the hateful male chauvinist bravado that took decades to be eroded and washed away. And yes, marriages are supposedly saved through the statutory rape of school girls (see Terry and June in …Camping), and partners fall back in love with each other because their men have been grooming underage school girls (see Sid and Bernie in, yes, …Camping again), and yes, there may be a dodgy scene where a girl is repeatedly raped while traveling across the desert (See …Follow that Camel). But that’s just the British way, laughter created in the face of the absurd.  By R. Frood