The Wrong Box (1966)

The Wrong Box* (Bryan Forbes, 1966) Bryan Forbes is a British director not known for a light touch, nor as a writer (and—in the few instances I saw him, not as an actor, either!). So to see him in charge of a comedy leaves one a bit nonplussed as opposed to amused (which should be the bloody intention!). The same can be said for this film, which tries very, very...veddy... hard to be funny, but ends up evoking feelings of something akin to pity (which just won't "do" for a comedy, much as Chaplin liked to use it in his bag of tricks).

The story of a tontine—a trust created for a clutch of privileged school-boys that will go to the last man standing (and the controversies that ensue—The Wrong Box should have the same breakaway, mean-spirited greediness of, say, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (And one should say that with Stanley Kramer, you wouldn't think of being able to do a comedy, either, but look at that result!), Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines, or The Great Race, but instead has a leaden lethargy sometimes punctuated by awkward transitions, ill-timed (and rather unnecessary) close-ups, and the frequent appearance of title cards (to explain something the direction does not adequately provide) in a black-out format that recalls silent movie transitions. However, they come in at souch odd times, they're more interruptions that transitons (Odd that one can even mis-time interstitials!)

It's Bryan Forbes imitating Richard Lester making an Ealing Comedy, but without Alec Guiness, and as slap-dash as the Lester's direction could be at times, he at least could tell a story, and give it the momentum so it would never flag or falter. As it is it's one of those 95 minute movies that seem to last forever.

Great cast, though: Michael Caine, Peter Cook and Dudley Moore, John Mills and Ralph Richardson; Peter Sellers has an extended cameo as a fraudulent doctor that starts slowly but finally picks up a weird head of steam. And there's an odd love story between Caine and Forbes' actress-wife Nanette Newman that seems unconvincing.

The screenplay is by Larry Gelbart and Burt Shevelove, who wrote the book for the Broadway musical "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum" (Lester's film of which was released the same year—coincidence?) John Barry's galumphing score works overtime to make it frothy, but this is one granite souffle. What is missing is whimsy, rather than desperate manicness, and it fortunately is found in Sellers' work, and in the odd performance of Wilfrid Lawson as the harried (not that you'd know) butler, Peacock.

John Barry's ultra-light waltz is lovely but at odds with the material.

* The asterisk is used so that it isn't confused with the silent version of Robert Louis Stevenson's novel (with Lloyd Osbordone i913—not that a lot of people have seen it.

Seance on a Wet Afternoon (1964)

Seance on a Wet Afternoon (Bryan Forbes, 1964) Psychological thriller about a mad British couple, who decide to kidnap a child for nefarious purposes, and they might get away with it if both of the perpetrators weren't both mad as hatters!

 

Myra Savage (Kim Stanley) has a cottage industry as a medium in London, that is only moderately successful. This puts a financial strain on the couple as her husband Billy (Richard Attenborough) cannot hold down a job, due to his asthma. Billy's guilt for that and his general lack of spine accounts for his being totally under Myra's sway, probably initiated when the couple lost their child, Michael, in childbirth and he accommodated her every whim during her break-down afterwards. Whether this encouragement contributed to Myra's living in a fantasy where she speaks to the soul of Michael in her seances is up for debate. But, what's not debatable is who has the power in the family dynamic.

It's Myra...and Michael.

Then, Myra comes up with a plan to make more money and it's indicative of her madness...but there is some method to it. As her powers as a psychic are medium to none, she decides that she will scare up some business. She proposes to Billy that he kidnap the daughter of some well-off neighbors. They will keep the child in their home—and, of course, demand a ransom—and Myra will offer her services—as a psychic, mind you—to help the police find the missing girl. Her "reputation" as a spiritualist will then For Myra, it's a slam-dunk. For Billy, it's a potential charge of kidnapping if they get caught. Billy cannot say "no" to Myra. But, neither can Bill depend on Myra to keep herself together and not have something catastrophic happen.

If only he had someone around who could...I don't know..."see the future".

Forbes' direction is, to put it charitably, lethargic. The film does pick up a bit of pace as Billy is in London attempting to retrieve the ransom money knowing full well that the drop is being watched. Suddenly, Forbes camera becomes less claustrophobic and takes on the look of a security cam as Billy furtively tries to "blend in" with the pedestrian traffic. The sequence is helped by John Barry's underscore—which prior to this time has been dominated by ethereally echoing vibraphones—kicks in to the type of inexorably escalating music that he'd used for long sequences in the James Bond films. Barry was Forbes' secret weapon, shoring up his films like a masterful frosting hides a less-than-successful cake.

And then, there's Kim Stanley. Seance is notable, if only for Stanley's presence in it, as she preferred stage work to film and her film roles are few and far between...but memorable in the exquisite detail she brought to her work. Her Myra is a fascinatingly manipulative character, never a harpy, but quietly insistent and almost seeming to float in another dimension from reality. It's superb work, and almost makes sitting through this Seance a worthwhile experience.