There's nothing all too great or too horrible about this mid 50s service comedy that was distributed by Hammer Films in "Hammerscope" -- seemingly the only reason for this film to be widescreen is so that the giant missile that the main character (David Tomlinson) is working on will fit in the frame. Or maybe they wrote in a giant rocket because they were shooting it wide. This is such an arbitrary film that I wouldn't doubt it.
Now obviously the main reason to watch this film today is Peter Sellers, who is second-billed as CPO Doherty. Sellers plays a man who has developed an elaborate scheme of graft on a dry-docked battleship; Tomlinson is a bumbling superior officer who is put in charge of the ship. There are some good fun moments when Sellers and his compatriots are trying to hide their skimming and make excuses for what they're doing, such as claiming that the pig in the rec-room is actually the ship's mascot. When Tomlinson figures out the scam and orders them to get rid of the pig and the chickens, Sellers very slyly has his men serve bacon and roast chicken to the officer so that he feels guilty (assuming that they just fried up the ship mascot).
I assume that maybe this movie was funnier at the time it was released. I guess there are probably jokes about food rationing and that type of thing that an American like myself born in the 1970s would have trouble understanding. But frankly I don't think that was much of a gem even when it was released. It's not a film with any cinematic ambitions or with any real ideas. The director Val Guest, who went on to make some of Hammer Films' most interesting and intelligent sci-fi and horror films ("The Quatermass Xperiment", "Abominable Snowman", etc.) is on autopilot here. Sellers' character work never reaches the manic levels that make him really interesting. Tomlinson seems to me painfully unfunny, and it's hard to understand how he was a comedy star at any time and in any place. But there are enough moments of light situational comedy, thanks particularly to Sellers and to Wilfrid Hyde-White (who I recognized from his prominent role in "My Fair Lady" a few years after this film) that it's pleasant enough to sit through even today.
Now obviously the main reason to watch this film today is Peter Sellers, who is second-billed as CPO Doherty. Sellers plays a man who has developed an elaborate scheme of graft on a dry-docked battleship; Tomlinson is a bumbling superior officer who is put in charge of the ship. There are some good fun moments when Sellers and his compatriots are trying to hide their skimming and make excuses for what they're doing, such as claiming that the pig in the rec-room is actually the ship's mascot. When Tomlinson figures out the scam and orders them to get rid of the pig and the chickens, Sellers very slyly has his men serve bacon and roast chicken to the officer so that he feels guilty (assuming that they just fried up the ship mascot).
I assume that maybe this movie was funnier at the time it was released. I guess there are probably jokes about food rationing and that type of thing that an American like myself born in the 1970s would have trouble understanding. But frankly I don't think that was much of a gem even when it was released. It's not a film with any cinematic ambitions or with any real ideas. The director Val Guest, who went on to make some of Hammer Films' most interesting and intelligent sci-fi and horror films ("The Quatermass Xperiment", "Abominable Snowman", etc.) is on autopilot here. Sellers' character work never reaches the manic levels that make him really interesting. Tomlinson seems to me painfully unfunny, and it's hard to understand how he was a comedy star at any time and in any place. But there are enough moments of light situational comedy, thanks particularly to Sellers and to Wilfrid Hyde-White (who I recognized from his prominent role in "My Fair Lady" a few years after this film) that it's pleasant enough to sit through even today.