The Wrong Box (1966)

 "Yes, I enjoy an egg myself. They don't make good pets, though."

This splendid film is, yes, a farce, quite literally, and one executed with delicious clockwork precision, the climactic scene at once wonderfully chaotic and utterly orderly in how everything is tied together. This is entirely true. Yet the farce, perfect though it is, is merely the plot as background: this film is memorable for the wit and the performances.

There is, of course, exquisite visual humour, not least at the end whith the hearse chase, the unexpected real funeral, the band. The concept is delicious: a tontine. A sum of money is invested for a large number of young boys, with the last surviving to inherit all. The film begins with a highly entertaining series of, well, stupid deaths, crammed with cameos from British character actors. Finally, we are left with two brothers, played by those great theatrical knights John Mills and Ralph Richardson, both as adept at comedy as one might expect. The peerless Peter Cook and the no less inspired Dudley Moore steal the show, of course, but Michawl Caine is a superb comic straight man.

It's a shock to see Tony Hancock in colour, at this late stage. He is, let's be honest, phoning it in, and past his best. Yet he phones it in with aplomb. Peter Sellers is superb, but that's a given.

This superb cast, though, would be nothing without the sparkling, witty script, of a type that, despite its Vicxtorian setting, is redolent of the era between the satire boom and Monty Python, when British comedy was in glorious ferment, with Peter Cook at the centre of most things that mattered. A masterpiece that ought to be much better known.

The Bed Sitting Room (1969)

 "Radiation's rising. Still, one mustn't grumble too much.

I'm full of sesations from this extraordinary film. It contains multitudes. It is, I admit, my only experience of a Spike Milligan (co-)script, full of irreverent absurdity, the sort which wqould later begat a less overtly successor in Monty Python.

Thetre is much more, though. Despite the very British humour that anchors everything, this is a cinematic adaptation of an absurdist play that feels like Joan Littlewood's Theatre Workshop, which is high praise indeed. It's a post-apocalyptic world, set in the near future to 1969, with absurdity upon absurdity. Yet it's grim, in the traditions of Ionesco and Beckett. Indeed, the constant cynicism in the face of nuclear annihilation and the equally cynical, yet glorious, skewering of the British "stiff upper lip" denies us even the consolations of existentialism.

Despite this, the humour is exquisite. Realism being abandoned, we may use the setting to skewer British behaviour. Hence Arthur Lowe (genius casting) as the father, leaning heroically and deeply into another sort of comedy. I suspect, in person, over a pint, he would have been no Captain Mainwaring. Despite Peter Cook, Michael Hordern and others, his performance stands out. Beyond, even, that of Nurse Marty Feldman.

I can only urge you to saee this triumph of British comedy cinema which, deaspite its clear absurdist bent, is full of genus humour of the type one may expcct. You MUST see this film.

Bedazzled (1967)

 "Good evening. I couldn't help noticing that you were making an unsuccessful suicide bid."

Peter Cook, possibly the funniest man who ever lived, had a glorious, if not always consistent, career. His personal problems, particularly with too much booze, meant he was never quite as prolific as we, his fans, would have liked. But everything he did touch turned to comedy gold.

Except, largely, in the sphere of cinema. It's a huge relief, then, that Bedazzled is one film at least (The Rise and Rise of Michael Rimmer is another) in which he gets the starring role and gets to showcase his talents playing the Devil, no less.

This is almost, but not quite, a portmaneau comedy in which Dudey Moore gets given seven wishes by the delightfully slippery Satan in which he tries to find happiness with the woman he loves, but there's always a devilishly clever catch that ruins everything. Yes, some material is recycled from sketches from Not Only... But Also, but who cares? Certainly not the BBC, who bloody junked most of it. And I don't care how gratuitous the Raquel Welch cameo may be, or how cheeky it may be to give her such high billing for five minutes.

The dialogue sparkles with wit and hilarity, and the central dynamic of Pete 'n' Dud shines throughout. This is one of the real greats of comedy cinema- too coherent to be a portmanteau, cleverly and hilariously scripted, well made and cinematic in scope while remembering that its purpose is first and foremost to be very, very funny. And it bloody well is.