Victor Spinetti's tears... This, That and the Other (1969)

Victor and Vanessa

So, another British sex comedy and a film directed by Derek Ford who went onto a string of productions in this lucrative sub-genre; Groupie Girl (1970), The Wife Swappers (1970), Suburban Wives (1971), Commuter Husbands (1972), Keep It Up, Jack (1974) and Sex Express (1975) and more. The mind boggles at the idea of 70’s British Rail allowing an express service of any description let alone one involving these additional benefits.

 So far, so salacious, but exactly how sexy is This, That and the Other – aka A Promise of Bed in the USA – and how funny is it? Well, it’s a mixed bag… and, as usual, the laughs are often at the film’s expense. There are three stories of varying tone and only loosely linked by theme and events but, overall, it’s a fun ride if taken in context.

Dennis is menaced

 First up we find Vanda Hudson as Susan Stress who is so desperate for a role in producer Gordon Sterne’s film that she decides to seduce his innocent photographer son, played by Dennis Waterman no less. Whilst it’s hard to think of our Dennis as in anyway this innocent after all the moments we’ve shared over the years, he does his best as he nervously tries to photograph Vanda who goes to ever more outlandish lengths to shock him in a succession of increasingly provocative costumes. Full marks to Vanda here as she has to improvise madly for most of this story before ending up in the bath and then in bed with the future TV detective and Minder…

All her efforts are not wasted on the young man but there’s a delicious twist in the tale that wouldn’t work quite as well without her commitment to the role.

The second story has the most substance and an especially impressive performance from the highly versatile Victor Spinetti as George, a young man preparing for suicide until he’s interrupted by a lovely young woman called Barbara played well by Vanessa Howard who thinks his is the location of a party. Spinetti does so well to play George’s depression in ways that win our sympathy but not distress; suicide’s no laughing matter, especially in this context, and what we’re left with is a poignant tale that rises above the sauce and still makes us hope for the best outcome.

Victor hangs on

Barbara rationalises his masking tape, continental quilt and open gas fire as the theme for a party which is to be based on suicidal people and when the other guests arrive they take on the personas of various forms of suicide with Valery Leon deciding to dive in the bath – director Derek Ford not wasting his assets here. We also get the sublime Alexandra Bastedo as bored socialite Angie whose arranging her next event almost as soon as she arrives along with Michel Durant as a so-drenched-in-ennui-you-don’t-know-he’s-completely-pissed aristocrat.

All of these characters send flickers across George’s eyes merely highlighting his isolate desolation but perhaps there’s hope for him after the party’s over if only Barbara has truly noticed him…

The film can’t possibly linger on such thoughts as we enter the mostly surreal final segment in which a sex-starved taxi driver, the excellent John Bird, leaves a cinema after watching an X-rated film just like this one, only to be caught up in a psychedelic party that blows our minds. His post film reverie, and boiled egg dinner break, are interrupted by a call to take a glamorous blonde, the sublime Yutte Stensgaard, from a London night club to an ultra-mod house in the countryside. She falls asleep drunk in the back of his cab but he can’t stop looking at her and fantasising… I like the way this section pokes fun at its own audience!

Hallucinations of a Taxi Driver...

The dopey driver is hit by a sports car driven by the posh drunk from the previous episode and the former falls into a dream, as his blonde makes her way to the country house and he follows to witness the most outrageous of events. Women frolic naked in an indoor pool and appear and disappear as the swooning psych sounds of Christos Demetriou and John Kongos score illuminate events. Cleo Goldstein dances as a girl wearing only polythene hands, and our taxi driver has clearly travelled way too far south of the river…

It's a Stanley Long production with a budget of some £8,500 so well played all round for coming up with something that is more substantial than many a Brit sex-com. As The Monthly Film Bulletin wrote, it may have been "… short on comedy but rather better performed than these things usually are.” Although I don’t quite agree that “… the one barely memorable moment is provided by Miss Hudson being pursued round an apartment to the strains of the Light Cavalry Overture."

It's available on Amazon Prime and an increasingly collectable DVD!

 

 

Yutte is covered in fruit... much like the cover of the prog blues LP, Juicy Lucy (Vertigo, 1969)

 

Deeley depraved… Diversions (1976)

Heather Deeley

This is a bloody strange film - a mid-seventies porno devised for the "export" market and ranging wildly in tone and content. The production values are pretty decent and it does feature the lovely Heather Deeley who could so easily have been a mainstream star.

Written and directed by Derek Ford the film is trying to make more of a statement than it’s “cinema club” origins and is a mix of vignettes aimed at disrupting the attention span of the average blue film aficionado with comedy, drama and sexual shock tactics. Is it to be taken seriously? Deeley didn’t think so and disliked its extremes, but it’s an interesting diversion… even if you occasionally have to hide behind the sofa..

Genuine 70's grainy film-stock!

It starts at a railway station as a convicted woman is escorted handcuffed to a WPC and accompanied by another office – Derek Martin (later of The Bill and Eastenders) – there’s a mix of professional actors and, er, the other performers.

Sat in the old-style six seat carriage, Deeley’s character, Imogene, stares blankly out of the train window before casting glances at her fellow travellers: a man reading a Vampirella comic – how promising those always looked on the higher shelves… and a student played by another pro actor, Jeffrey Morgan.

The student offers her an apple and she daydreams them both onto a farm where they play a grown-up version of hide and seek. In her dream he recites an ode to apples comparing them favourable to a woman and even constructing a replica woman from the fruit. It’s daft but creates at least an interesting diversion (see what I did…) from the expected business they are about to get down to.

Sure enough Heather comes down from her hide-away in the loft to kick her lover’s apples away. The two embrace and get down to bruising the bramleys until another, more-fleshy, and badly-lit couple, takes over the close-quarters work. It’s pretty jarring after the film’s carefully established atmospherics and feels totally unnecessary: animalistic and basic at every level and clearly not the two actors. We see enough of Heather D later on to know that this quota-filling bonk-double is not her.

Back to the carriage and Imogene begins another fantasy, less romantic and much darker… At first it seems she merely wants to be in control, arching her back impressively astride her well-heeled lover– the man with the horror mag (Timothy Blackstone). Yes, you can clearly see why Deeley was in so much demand for this kind of work, dimensionally very-pleasing with a lovely face and acting ability to lift her above most contemporaries: she could easily have had a mainstream career?

War torn

Things turn dark as Imogene, bored of her unimaginative partner, fantasizes about being a nurse in a war zone: a dream within a dream in which she is brutalised by enemy soldiers. Waking from this she stabs her man and then proceeds to bath herself in his blood before taking her knife to his still-functioning appendage. It is very shocking indeed and somewhere between art, absurdist humour and your worst nightmare. If anyone is turned on by this display, then not only was the filmmakers’ joke in vain but they probably ought to see someone… and quick.

Her ladyship goes cruising the streets of London for more victims only to encounter a vampire impervious to her golden blade… No doubt more analysis is possible but, she is on a train and she is really bored.

The power of advertising

Next we have a section closer to the Robin Asquith model of mistaken sexual-identity as Deeley moves into a flat previously owned by a sex worker and, after taking a number of nuisance calls from former customers, decides to accept the offer of a good-looking guy who comes calling (Tim Burr).

For once the intercourse is sensitively handled – especially when compared to the first gratuitous insert – and the punch line is genuinely likeable.

Let’s see, who else is left in the carriage?  Surely not the granite-faced cop, oh, yes, how about the other woman? Big box left to tick… and the film takes its time as Imogene is imagined back in Nazi Germany, tied up and abused by soldiers before their superior officer (Jacqui Rigby) takes over and does things properly.

Jacqui Rigby and Heather Deeley

But as with another naughty flick I've seen with Heather Deeley and Mary Millington Erotic Inferno,  this coupling between the women is far more tender than the other scenes, straight sex – at least in these films – is more aggressive and domineering. Then even this pretty scene is perverted when the two male guards join in for a blurred confusion of limbs and the final – inevitable – climax. that was the seventies... but it's not really entertainment.

Still time left on the journey for one last episode, this time involving a haunted camera and some Victorian high jinks in which a man with expressive whiskers and his chamber maid haunt a modern-day Heather in soft-porn, comedy-sex ways.

Then… we’re back in the train at the end of the journey as the police and their prisoner leave the train and the surprising truth of their relationship is finally revealed…

Curiosity shop

Dusty verdict: Diversions is an uneven film with some touching moments, good performances – acting! – and some actual erotica. The good is outweighed by the sexual violence of the bad and you wonder what more could have been achieved had a firmer line been held.

It’s pretty hard to find now but is worth seeking out for those lighter moments and for Deeley’s overall loveliness for which I make no apology. The rest… just fast-forward or close your eyes and think of the British Board of Film Classification!

There's an interesting post on Gav Crimson's blog about  Heather's short career and what little is known about her life afterwards. She was only 19 when this film was made and you hope she made it free to a settled life outside of skin flicks: naughty nostalgia for some of us but exploitative and dangerous for the participants.