Ugh… horrible. In an earlier review I remarked how the worlds of Carry On and On The Buses were poles apart. But then I hadn’t seen Carry On Behind, which makes “Buses” seem the height of sophistication.
Opening with a cheesy cartoon of animated bottoms, the meaningless title (“Camping” had already been done six years earlier) is illustrated in the most literal way. The direction and timing of the jokes are so off it’s untrue. In fact, I’d guessed every single joke before I’d even seen the film – that’s how predictable they are. Occasional lines get a laugh, such as a scene where Windsor Davies’s beach ball lands on a bonfire. “Me ball’s burning!” he cries, obviously a cue for a cheap testicle-related pun. However, the uninspired “Well don’t stand so close to the fire!” is made amusing by the delivery of the very funny Peter Butterworth.
Generally, though, none of the actors do well, with even the usually hilarious Kenneth Williams struggling with the feeble script. Bernard Bresslaw also flounders with a film that has a “comedy whistle” sound effect as he sits on a cactus (twice). Rarely has visual humour been so witlessly contrived. Windsor Davies (so-so) and Jack Douglas (desperately unfunny) are on a fishing holiday, leading to much lame innuendo around the words “tackle” and “flies”.
Williams is an archaeological Professor, teamed with Elke Sommer as Professor Vooshka. A pidgin English-speaking “foreigner” who seems to be a prerequisite for cheap 70s comedies, the character exists only to mistakenly say such phrases as “having it off” and “making oats”. The only time this dated stereotype produces a laugh is when she exclaims to Windsor Davies that an injured Ken is “bleeding terrible.” “Never mind his qualifications,” Davies replies, “is he hurt badly?” Yes, that’s one of the better ones.
The thing about great comedy is that it arises naturally out of the situation. This is not great comedy. How two grown men and women could get embarrassed from the implications of “stuffing” being on a menu is beyond me. Davies and Douglas are middle-aged schoolboys, waiting between the pauses until someone says the word “bit” so they can fall into helpless laughter once more. It’s this relentless scraping for the lowest common denominator of laughs that drags Behind down into the depths.
The female cast is even worse, and the movie sorely misses a Sid James or a Barbara Windsor. Joan Sims is wasted in an underwritten role, and its non-star heavy status gives the impression of a pared-down production. The small setting also concedes the lack of ambition present. It’s entries like this that give Carry On its poor reputation in some circles. If you learn that a subplot involves a large hungry dog and a Minor bird that swears and says “show us yer knickers” then you’ll see the level of the “humour”. Mixed showers, falling into cesspits, lousy incidental music, it’s all truly, terribly unfunny.
Where the 60s had seen the series try out constant experiments (Carry On Spying, not very funny but innovative) and expand its scope (Cowboy, Screaming, Khyber), the 70s saw it happy to rest on its laurels. While the last three movies of the 60s were a step down from Khyber, they generally held the era in good stead. Things weren’t so bad to begin with, with the first entry of a new decade the fairly standard Up The Jungle. While at times messy and underdeveloped, it’s possibly the rudest Carry On, with bestiality making an incongruous appearance during its lunchtime screenings. Loving was underrated, and descended into slapstick homage, while Convenience was also an amusing exploration of the coarseness of the series. However, Henry was a one-joke movie, Abroad had potential squandered and Matron (qv) was possibly the weakest of the overrated medical excursions. Girls was also overlooked, however, and Dick earned its reputation as “the last decent Carry On movie”. Post-Behind, England was a laugh vacuum, though the rumours of Emmannuelle being pornographic are, of course, a myth. The other rumour – that it’s abysmal – is, sadly, completely true. Though then again, the warning signs should show when it opens with a theme song by Kenny Lynch. Lance Peters’s script seems to be a formula of what people think a Carry On is about, rather than a film in its own right, while the overlong scenes and flat direction justify why this one killed the series off. After this low point, it was down to woeful 90s revival Columbus to hammer the final nail in the coffin.
At date of writing a new Carry On for the 21st century is being planned – Carry On London. Will it be able to reverse the downward slope that began right here, with Carry On Behind, the first truly bad entry in the series?
