All at Sea with a Slightly Different Crew For episode 204 of the Reel Britannia podcast, we are taking to the high seas and hoisting the mainsail for the 1964 nautical romp, Carry On Jack.   The story follows the earnest but hopelessly inept Albert Poop-Decker (the brilliant Bernard Cribbins), who takes a commission as a midshipman on the frigate Venus. Naturally, things go pear-shaped before he even leaves the tavern, leading to a frantic voyage involving a stolen identity, a remarkably resourceful young woman named Sally (Juliet Mills), and the decidedly cowardly Captain Fearless (Kenneth Williams). Directed by series stalwart Gerald Thomas, the film features a lively score composed by Eric Rogers and marks Talbot Rothwell's second Carry On script following his debut with Carry On Cabby. But what makes Jack a particularly fascinating watch is who isn't on deck. Scott is joined by Steven, Tony, and Mark to debate a crucial question for the franchise's history: does the film suffer from a lack of familiar faces like Sid James and Joan Sims, or do Cribbins and Mills make a thoroughly welcome addition to the family? Along with spotting Jim Dale (making another welcome appearance after Cabby) and enjoying Charles Hawtrey as the hapless Walter Sweetley, we'll be unpacking the picture in our familiar warm, conversational, and lightly irreverent style. This episode, along with the complete Reel Britannia back catalogue, is available wherever listeners download their podcasts and at: https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/reelbritannia Listeners can also follow the podcast on X at @rbritanniapod. If you're enjoying our cinematic voyages, please note that special bonus episodes are available through the Reel Britannia Patreon, inviting listeners to support the podcast and enjoy additional film discussions. #CarryOnJack #BernardCribbins #JulietMills #KennethWilliams #BritishComedy #BritishCinema #CarryOnFilms #ReelBritannia #Podcast

A Licence to Confuse and a Swinging Sixties Spectacle For episode 203 of the Reel Britannia podcast, we are tumbling down a deeply psychedelic cinematic rabbit hole with the delightfully baffling 1967 spoof, Casino Royale.   The premise, should you choose to try and follow it, sees the original, legendary Sir James Bond (David Niven) coaxed out of a genteel retirement to take down the nefarious syndicate SMERSH. His tactical masterstroke? Confusing the enemy by renaming every single active agent—male or female—James Bond. Naturally, absolute chaos ensues.   Produced by Charles K. Feldman and steered by a famously sprawling committee of writers and directors, the film boasts a dizzying, star-studded cast that includes Peter Sellers, Ursula Andress, Woody Allen, and Orson Welles. But the real question we're asking this week is where exactly this extravagant behemoth fits into the 007 canon. Scott is joined by Steven, Tony, and Mark to figure out if the film is strictly for the die-hard fans, an odd little cinematic curio, a completely disjointed mess, or simply a wonderfully unhinged snapshot of the swinging sixties. Expect our familiar warm, conversational, and lightly irreverent style as we try to make sense of the glorious excess of it all.   This episode, along with the complete Reel Britannia back catalogue, is available wherever listeners download their podcasts and at: https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/reelbritannia Listeners can also keep up with our latest ramblings and follow the podcast on X at @rbritanniapod.   If you're enjoying the show, do bear in mind that special bonus episodes are available through the Reel Britannia Patreon, inviting listeners to support the podcast and enjoy even more of our late-night film discussions. #CasinoRoyale #JamesBond #DavidNiven #PeterSellers #SwingingSixties #BritishCinema #ReelBritannia #Podcast #007 #ClassicFilm

Digging Up Trouble Behind Enemy Lines For episode 202 of the Reel Britannia podcast, we're trading our civvies for khaki and marching straight into the chaotic world of a genuine British comedy icon. This time around, the team is discussing the 1958 Norman Wisdom classic, The Square Peg.   Directed by John Paddy Carstairs and written by Jack Davies, the film follows the hapless road mender Norman Pitkin (Wisdom, naturally) and his perpetually flustered boss Mr Grimsdale (Edward Chapman) as they find themselves unexpectedly drafted into the Pioneer Corps. Before long, the pair are parachuted into occupied France, where Pitkin discovers he is the spitting image of a ruthless Nazi commandant, General Schreiber. What follows is a brilliantly executed dual-role performance that perfectly showcases Wisdom's immense gift for physical comedy and timing.   Supported by a wonderful cast that includes Honor Blackman and the glorious Hattie Jacques, it's a masterclass in slapstick that cemented Wisdom's place as a box office giant. The Reel Britannia team will be unpacking the film in our familiar warm, conversational, and lightly irreverent style, chatting about the ingenuity of the doppelgänger setup and the sheer, exhausting energy of Pitkin's war effort.   This episode, along with the complete Reel Britannia back catalogue, is available wherever listeners download their podcasts and at: https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/reelbritannia Listeners can also follow the podcast on X at @rbritanniapod. If you fancy even more film chat, special bonus episodes are available through the Reel Britannia Patreon. We'd love to invite listeners to support the podcast and enjoy our additional dives into the archives of British cinema. #TheSquarePeg #NormanWisdom #BritishComedy #BritishCinema #ReelBritannia #Podcast #EdwardChapman #ClassicComedy

Dublin soul, magnificent music and enough creative differences to sink a small record label. This episode was recorded a couple of weeks ago, before the terribly sad news of Glen Hansard's death earlier this week. We remember him with great affection as Outspan Foster, one of the unforgettable faces and voices at the heart of The Commitments. Dublin has the music. Jimmy Rabbitte has the ambition. What he does not yet have is a band, any money, or the faintest idea how to keep a roomful of volatile musicians from throttling one another. This time on Reel Britannia, Scott is joined by Maurice in Melbourne, Kerry in Boston and Tom from just down the road for Alan Parker's joyous, foul-mouthed and gloriously chaotic 1991 musical comedy. Based on Roddy Doyle's novel, The Commitments follows Jimmy's attempt to bring soul music to the working-class streets of Dublin by assembling a group whose talent is matched only by its ability to argue. The team discusses the film's extraordinary cast, including Robert Arkins, Andrew Strong, Angeline Ball, Maria Doyle Kennedy, Bronagh Gallagher, Colm Meaney and Glen Hansard. There is also plenty of admiration for the thunderous soundtrack, the sharp dialogue and Parker's knack for making the whole enterprise feel as though it might either conquer the world or collapse before the next rehearsal. So pull on your sharpest suit, warm up the brass section and try not to mention creative differences. The Commitments are ready to play, although whether they will all still be speaking by the encore is another question.   This and all previous episodes are available wherever you download your podcasts and at: https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/reelbritannia   #ReelBritannia #TheCommitments #AlanParker #RoddyDoyle #GlenHansard #IrishCinema #BritishFilmPodcast #FilmPodcast  

Fletch Gets Out. Getting Back In Is the Tricky Bit. For its landmark 200th episode, Reel Britannia is heading behind bars for Porridge – The Movie, the 1979 big-screen outing for one of Britain's best-loved television comedies. Ronnie Barker returns as the wily Norman Stanley Fletcher, still doing his best to serve his sentence with the minimum possible effort. Alongside him is Richard Beckinsale as the good-natured Lennie Godber, while Fulton Mackay's fearsome Mr Mackay and Brian Wilde's endlessly flustered Mr Barrowclough attempt to maintain something vaguely resembling order at Slade Prison. Peter Vaughan also appears as the quietly terrifying Harry "Grouty" Grout. When Fletcher is persuaded to help organise a football match between the prisoners and a celebrity team, he naturally suspects that something is amiss. Before long, he and Godber are caught up in an escape plan that leaves them facing an unusual problem: not how to get out of prison, but how to get back in before anyone notices. Directed by Dick Clement and written by Clement with Ian La Frenais, the film retains the warmth, sharp dialogue and beautifully observed characters of the original series. It is also one of those rare British sitcom spin-offs that feels like a proper film rather than an extended episode with a slightly larger catering budget. Join the Reel Britannia team as they celebrate episode 200 in their familiar warm, conversational and lightly irreverent style.   This episode and the complete Reel Britannia back catalogue are available wherever you download your podcasts and at: https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/reelbritannia   Follow the podcast on X at @rbritanniapod. Special bonus episodes are also available through the Reel Britannia Patreon, where your support unlocks even more British film discussion.   #Porridge #PorridgeTheMovie #RonnieBarker #RichardBeckinsale #FultonMackay #BrianWilde #BritishComedy #BritishCinema #ReelBritannia #Podcast #Episode200

When the crooks and the coppers join forces, London's criminal underworld is in very confused hands. For Episode 199, Reel Britannia slips into the sharply dressed, cheerfully crooked world of The Wrong Arm of the Law, a 1963 British crime comedy in which the nation's criminals discover that even dishonesty was better organised in the old days. Peter Sellers stars as Pearly Gates, a suave London gang boss who divides his time between running a fashion house and supervising a criminal organisation with the efficiency of a suburban business. His employees may be thieves, but they enjoy paid holidays, luncheon vouchers and a surprisingly enlightened approach to staff welfare. Crime, it seems, was never so civilised. Trouble arrives when a gang of Australian crooks begins impersonating police officers and helping themselves to the proceeds of other people's robberies. This is regarded as extremely poor form. With both Scotland Yard and the London underworld irritated, Pearly finds himself entering into an unusual alliance with Inspector "Nosey" Parker, played with glorious bluster by Lionel Jeffries. Directed by Cliff Owen and written by a team that includes Ray Galton and Alan Simpson, the film surrounds Sellers with a marvellous collection of familiar British faces. Bernard Cribbins brings nervous energy to Pearly's reluctant associate O'Toole, while John Le Mesurier appears with the beautifully weary air of a man who has already filled in far too many forms. The Wrong Arm of the Law is a breezy caper filled with bungling crooks, pompous policemen, double-crosses and a reassuring amount of London location work. It belongs to that wonderful strain of British comedy in which authority is treated with suspicion, crime is conducted by committee, and nobody appears capable of organising anything without first stopping for tea. Join us for Episode 199 of Reel Britannia, as we revisit a British battle between law and disorder — with just a hint of professionalism.   All episodes available on your favourite podcast catcher      Head over to Patreon for special bonus episodes    Follow us on X @rbritanniapod

Hammer opens the door to a nightmare where every shadow has a secret. For the latest episode of Reel Britannia, we step into the chilly corridors and troubled dreams of Nightmare, Hammer's 1964 psychological thriller from director Freddie Francis and writer Jimmy Sangster. This is Hammer without the fangs, capes, castles, or buckets of Kensington Gore. Instead, it gives us something colder and more unsettling: a black-and-white tale of fear, memory, manipulation and madness, where the terror creeps in quietly and then refuses to leave. The story follows Janet, a young woman haunted by disturbing visions connected to her troubled family past. Sent home from school after a frightening episode, she returns to a grand country house where comfort, recovery and reassurance should be waiting. Naturally, this being Hammer, they are not. The house feels too still, the people around her seem a little too careful, and Janet's nightmares begin to blur horribly with waking life. With Jennie Linden, David Knight, Moira Redmond and Brenda Bruce leading the cast, Nightmare is a neat, sinister little puzzle box of a film. Freddie Francis brings his cinematographer's eye to every shadowy hallway and candlelit room, while Jimmy Sangster delivers one of those beautifully twisted Hammer scripts where nothing is quite as straightforward as it first appears. In this episode, we look at how Nightmare fits into Hammer's run of psychological thrillers alongside films such as Paranoiac, Maniac and Hysteria, and why these smaller, moodier pictures deserve just as much affection as the studio's better-known monster movies. We'll talk about its performances, its atmosphere, its clever structure, and that wonderful sense of 1960s British unease that Hammer did so well.   All episodes available on your favourite podcast catcher      Head over to Patreon for special bonus episodes    Follow us on X @rbritanniapod #ReelBritannia #HammerHorror #Nightmare1964 #BritishCinema #HammerFilms #FreddieFrancis #JimmySangster #ClassicHorror #BritishFilm #MoviePodcast

Episode 197 - The Tall Guy (1989) "What in the name of Judas Iscariot's bumboy is going on?"  Dexter King (Jeff Goldblum) is an awkward American actor stranded in London, suffering from severe hay fever and a chronic case of career stagnation. His day job consists of being repeatedly humiliated on stage as the hapless straight man to Ron Anderson (Rowan Atkinson), a spectacularly arrogant and insecure British comedian who wields his ego like a blunt instrument. Dexter's miserable existence takes a sharp upward turn when a trip to the clinic for allergy shots introduces him to Kate (Emma Thompson), a brisk, hyper-pragmatic nurse with a devastatingly dry wit. Naturally, Dexter is immediately smitten. What follows is a courtship that culminates in one of cinema's most gloriously destructive love scenes, where the sheer force of their pent-up, awkward passion obliterates an entire apartment, claiming a piano, a mattress, and several lamps as collateral damage. However, the path to happily-ever-after is rarely smooth. After finally snapping and getting fired by the tyrannical Ron, Dexter desperately auditions for the only gig available: the title role in Elephant!, a West End musical adaptation of The Elephant Man. It is a masterpiece of terrible taste, featuring upbeat tap numbers, grotesque latex prosthetics, and lyrics that rhyme "freak" with "eek." Just as Dexter is tap-dancing his way toward theatrical infamy, his newfound happiness with Kate is threatened by a misunderstanding and the predatory advances of his former boss, Ron. To win the girl back, Dexter must navigate the treacherous waters of opening night, outmaneuver a megalomaniac, and prove that underneath the giant, rubbery head of a Victorian medical curiosity beats the heart of a true romantic. It's a quintessential British rom-com, laced with absurdity, sharp theatrical satire, and a deeply relatable desire to punch your terrible boss in the face.   #reelbritannia #podcast #movie #britmovie #TheTallGuy #TheTallGuy1989 #JeffGoldblum #EmmaThompson #RowanAtkinson #BestSexSceneEver #ElephantTheMusical   All episodes available at: https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/reelbritannia Coming soon...our next episode:

Episode 196 - School For Scoundrels (1960) "Hard cheese old boy!" School for Scoundrels is one of those wonderfully sharp British comedies that takes something faintly ridiculous and plays it with a completely straight face, which of course makes it even funnier. Released in 1960, it follows Henry Palfrey, a polite, mild-mannered man who seems to be permanently stuck on the losing side of life. He is decent, respectable and reasonably successful on paper, yet somehow he always ends up second best, especially when faced with people who have more confidence, more nerve and rather fewer scruples. Chief among those people is Raymond Delauney, a sleek, smug and maddeningly self-assured rival who seems able to outmanoeuvre Henry at every turn. Whether it is in romance, social situations or the small but humiliating battles of everyday life, Delauney has the infuriating knack of always coming out on top. Henry, increasingly fed up with being the one left floundering, is drawn into the orbit of the mysterious Mr Potter and his remarkable College of Lifemanship, where the art of being "one-up" is treated with all the seriousness of a military campaign. From there, the film becomes a deliciously observed contest of manners, manipulation and social gamesmanship. What makes it so enjoyable is the way it turns ordinary middle-class anxieties into something almost heroic. A lunch, a conversation, a game of tennis or the purchase of a second-hand car suddenly become matters of strategy and survival. The humour is dry, knowing and beautifully played, with Ian Carmichael bringing warmth and sympathy to Henry's struggles, while Terry-Thomas is gloriously unbearable as the perfectly polished cad. Witty, elegant and just a little wicked, School for Scoundrels remains a classic British comedy because it understands an eternal truth: in a world full of bounders, bluffers and social bullies, good manners alone may not be enough.   Coming soon...our next episode:  

Episode 195 - Home At Seven (1952) He came home on time... a day too late. Home at Seven is a neatly unsettling British mystery that begins with one of the simplest ideas imaginable and turns it into something deeply unnerving. David Preston, a mild-mannered bank clerk, arrives home after work expecting an ordinary evening with his wife. Instead, he is met with shock, confusion and growing alarm, because as far as everyone else is concerned, he has not been gone for the day. He has been missing for over twenty-four hours. David is utterly baffled. To him, nothing is wrong. He left work, came home, and the clock seems to agree with him. But the people around him know otherwise, and the more questions they ask, the less certain everything becomes. His wife Janet is frightened and hurt, his friends are concerned, and before long the police are taking an interest as well. What begins as a strange domestic puzzle quickly deepens into something much darker when it becomes clear that David's missing hours may be connected to a serious crime. The great strength of the film lies in the way it builds tension from ordinary surroundings. This is not a flashy thriller full of car chases and melodrama. It is a quiet, close, nerve-jangling mystery played out in drawing rooms, offices and polite conversations that gradually become loaded with suspicion. The more David tries to understand what has happened, the more trapped he seems to become, and the film draws real unease from the idea that a respectable, routine life can suddenly tilt off balance. With strong performances, especially from Ralph Richardson and Margaret Leighton, Home at Seven creates a mood of creeping dread without ever overplaying its hand. It is a clever, intimate thriller about memory, identity and the terrifying possibility that a missing day might hold far more than anyone is prepared for.