No normal man should miss seeing Lynne Frederick as Flavia in this version, at least no normal man with a taste for neoteny. This young woman has the huge eyes and slightly woeful features of a ringtail lemur from Madagascar. No kidding. When she's surprised, her eyes open so wide that the white surround the irises. I tried it in the mirror and I can't do it. She looks every bit the princess. Not an elegant princess like Deborah Kerr but the kind of princess who, through the ruse of deceptive innocence, might deliberately invite your attentions and then swallow you up alive.
Peter Sellers does what he can to turn his two parts into comic turns. As the King, he substitutes "w" for "r". As the dragooned London cabbie he looks worried, suspicious, indignant, and terribly puzzled. The script doesn't give him an opportunity to do much else. He could do a lot with a little when the opportunity was afforded him -- hilarious as Dr. Pratt in "The Wrong Box", constantly stoned, who writes his signature, "William Pratt, MD" and then reads it aloud as "William Prattmd." No such luck here. His best line comes when he's staring through a stereoscope, giggling, and says, "Oh, she got no knickers on."
Most of the cast are stalwarts about ten years past their prime, but still good at what they do. There has rarely been a better villain, especially with a German accent, than the pebbly-faced Jeremy Kemp. John Laurie, the foul-tempered farmer in Hitchock's "39 Steps," is the Archbishop who knocks on wood for good luck, then turns around and stutters, "Uh, come in." Graham Stark is Erik, the flat-faced, dubious palace butler, who practically owns this kind of role. Lionel Jeffries staggers through the part of General Sapt, trying to hold Ruritania together. As Rupert of Hentzau, Stuart Wilson is flat and completely lacking in the wicked charm of, say, Douglad Fairbanks, Jr. As Sapt's orderly, Simon Williams creates a hole on the screen whenever he appears.
The gags may once have been titillating but we've evolved beyond most of them. There are a couple of gay gags that look moth eaten by now. The director is Richard Quine, who knows his craft but brings nothing special to the enterprise. It looks as if the script were followed verbatim and the script is weak. It lacks wit. Blake Edwards would have probably handled it more deftly and allowed more spontaneous input, as he did with "The Pink Panther" and a number of other comedies that might not have looked promising on paper. The musical score follows suit, apparently thinking the pratfalls are funnier than they are. Maybe none of the gags are as thoughtful as the name of the local gunsmith -- Walther Luger.
Of course, Anthony Hope Hawkins wrote the novel in chipped stone sometime during the Neolithic and the story has been around so long that it deserves to be parodied. There is a successful example too. You can find it near the end of "The Great Race" with Tony Curtis and Jack Lemon.
Peter Sellers does what he can to turn his two parts into comic turns. As the King, he substitutes "w" for "r". As the dragooned London cabbie he looks worried, suspicious, indignant, and terribly puzzled. The script doesn't give him an opportunity to do much else. He could do a lot with a little when the opportunity was afforded him -- hilarious as Dr. Pratt in "The Wrong Box", constantly stoned, who writes his signature, "William Pratt, MD" and then reads it aloud as "William Prattmd." No such luck here. His best line comes when he's staring through a stereoscope, giggling, and says, "Oh, she got no knickers on."
Most of the cast are stalwarts about ten years past their prime, but still good at what they do. There has rarely been a better villain, especially with a German accent, than the pebbly-faced Jeremy Kemp. John Laurie, the foul-tempered farmer in Hitchock's "39 Steps," is the Archbishop who knocks on wood for good luck, then turns around and stutters, "Uh, come in." Graham Stark is Erik, the flat-faced, dubious palace butler, who practically owns this kind of role. Lionel Jeffries staggers through the part of General Sapt, trying to hold Ruritania together. As Rupert of Hentzau, Stuart Wilson is flat and completely lacking in the wicked charm of, say, Douglad Fairbanks, Jr. As Sapt's orderly, Simon Williams creates a hole on the screen whenever he appears.
The gags may once have been titillating but we've evolved beyond most of them. There are a couple of gay gags that look moth eaten by now. The director is Richard Quine, who knows his craft but brings nothing special to the enterprise. It looks as if the script were followed verbatim and the script is weak. It lacks wit. Blake Edwards would have probably handled it more deftly and allowed more spontaneous input, as he did with "The Pink Panther" and a number of other comedies that might not have looked promising on paper. The musical score follows suit, apparently thinking the pratfalls are funnier than they are. Maybe none of the gags are as thoughtful as the name of the local gunsmith -- Walther Luger.
Of course, Anthony Hope Hawkins wrote the novel in chipped stone sometime during the Neolithic and the story has been around so long that it deserves to be parodied. There is a successful example too. You can find it near the end of "The Great Race" with Tony Curtis and Jack Lemon.