This is a prime example of Lead Soufflé School Of Light Entertainment. How dire is it? Let me count the ways. On second thought better not, wed be here all day. It's from that school of Realism where scrap metal dealers wear bow ties and carnations in the lapel whilst presiding over huge totally empty warehouses that would, in a film boasting even a scintilla of realism, be bursting with scrap metal. There's only one employee on view, Harold Lang, who trebles as receptionist, switchboard operator and chauffeur to say nothing of purveyor of smart, sophisticated dialogue. Sample: John McCallum to Lang. 'How does this (indicating switchboard) work? Lang: 'Find out'. This sets up an intriguing question. Was this film ghost-written by 1)Geoge Kaufman and Moss Hart, 2)Joseph L. Mankiewicz, or 3) Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett. Answers on a postcard, please, to: Do I Look As Though I Give A Big Rat's Ass. Amongst other delights this movie boasts one of the most improbable menage a trois on record with Thora Hird and Vida Hope vying for the attentions of a punch-drunk John Slater, proud owner of a bashed-in face that makes Lon Chaney look like Tom Cruise. The plot? It is to laugh.
Review of The Long Memory
