FOLLY TO BE WISE

New Zealand Listener, Volume 30, Issue 771, 30 April 1954, Page 19

FOLLY TO BE WISE

(London Films-British Lion) T used to be said of Alastair Sim, when he was younger and leaner than he is now, that his resemblance to Sir John Reith was so striking that junior BBC announcers would blench and genuflect hastily when they encountered him on the street. I was reminded of that by Sim’s latest comedy vehicle, Folly to be Wise (chassis by James Bridie, coachwork by Launder and Gilliat), for it also makes fun of a venerable broadcasting institution-the Brains’ Trust. But there is more to it than that. Bridie called his play It Depends What You Mean-and if you remember the original Brains Trust team, and Professor Joad’s cautious opening gambit you will see where the title came from. But Bridie set his scene in a military camp and the best of the fun (or the most goodhumoured fun, if you like) is at the expense of the camp padre and his desperate efforts as the unit entertainment officer, to find the right kind of stuff to give the troops. Since most adult New Zealand males have at one time or another been confined to barracks for a period of basic mili- tary training, this kind of comedy is likely to produce a fairly universal and cheerful response. At any rate, the sight, and sound, of the May Savitt Qualthrop String Quartet sawing away in a practically empty recreation hut while the troops wet their whistles in the Red Lion down the road was to me a hilarious evocation of times now mercifully past. To meet the competition’of the Red Lion, the padre is driven to extreme measures. He cancels the next performance by the string quartet, postpones a visit by the local Madrigal and Canticle Society, and in an ill-starred moment decides to stage a discussion panel and invite questions from the troops. (‘The padre’s asked for questions," says one platoon sergeant, handing out quires of paper, "and I want .a spontaneous response, d’you understand?’’) In assembling the Brains Trust, vetting the questions sent in, and endeavouring to control his panel of celebrities once they are assembled, Alastair Sim has no lack of scope for the fumbling foot-in-the-mouth comedy at which he is so adept. And there are excellent mino1 performances by Miles Malleson,, Edward Chapman, Roland Culver and George Cole. But what was undoubtedly the climax of the film did not strike me as unadulterated comedy. This is reached when the panel is asked to give an answer to the question, "Is marriage a good idea, and if so, how should one choose a partner?" The questioner is an earnest little Waac who really wants to know-and her determination to get an answer provokes a first-class brawl on the stage. It is, I think, the emphatic contrast between the earnestness of the questioner (she is the padre’s secretary) and the broad farce which she precipitates that takes some of the bloom off the fun. That our intellectual betters can make complete asses of themselves in public is one of the staples of the comic tradition (as well as one of the more cheerful facts of life), but all the same I thought that this time it went a shade too far. Not that I’m writing the show off-it is better than average

comedy, and Alastair Sim is better than average, too-but it just didn’t quite come up to expectations.