| Don't Just Lie There, Say Something! | |
| Director: | Bob Kellett |
| Producer: | Andrew Mitchell |
| Starring: | Brian Rix Leslie Phillips Joan Sims Joanna Lumley Katy Manning |
| Music: | Peter Greenwell |
| Cinematography: | Jack Atcheler |
| Editing: | Al Gell |
| Studio: | Comocroft Limited |
| Distributor: | The Rank Organisation (UK) |
| Country: | United Kingdom |
| Runtime: | 97 minutes |
| Language: | English |
Don't Just Lie There, Say Something! is a 1974 British comedy film directed by Bob Kellett and starring Brian Rix, Leslie Phillips, Joan Sims and Joanna Lumley.[1] It was based on the Whitehall farce of the same name written by Michael Pertwee, who also wrote the screenplay. A government minister and his best friend take action in parliament against permissive behaviour in the United Kingdom.
Sir William Mainwaring-Brown, a British Government Minister, puts forward a parliamentary Bill to battle "filth" (permissive behaviour) in the UK. However, that does not stop him having an affair with Wendy, the wife of a high-up reporter, as well as planning a one-night-stand with his secretary Miss Parkyn. Opponents of the Bill, mainly some hippies, led by Johnny, decide to kidnap the Minister's best friend and co-sponsor of the Bill, Barry Ovis, just as he is on the way to the church to marry his fiancée, Jean.
The intention is to discredit Barry Ovis by making it appear that he was involved in an orgy, thus removing any credibility that the Law and Order Bill might have had. Following a tip-off by Edith, one of the conspirators, the police raid the hippies' flat. Barry escapes before the police discover him and dashes back to Sir William's flat, followed by Edith.
Meanwhile, the Minister is also trying to use the flat to carry on his seduction of Miss Parkyn, only for Wendy to also appear by surprise. The Minister, Barry and Jean try to keep the truth from Inspector Ruff, who is searching for the missing Ovis, Wilfred Potts (an elderly anti-sleaze MP, who is staying temporarily in the adjoining flat) and Birdie (the Minister's wife). Not only that, but they have to try to deal with the hippies who do their utmost to discredit Mainwaring-Brown and Ovis. Naturally this causes no end of trouble.
The Monthly Film Bulletin wrote: "As a film, Don't Just Lie There is so unexceptionally mediocre as to be beneath constructive comment: a straight, dead celluloid rendering of the stage play, seventy-five percent of which has been shot in a single, three-room set. Brian Rix and Leslie Phillips project their decades-old personae, and the script manages with like somegenius to strike not a single underivative note as it treads through all the standard, degrading gags about falling trousers and rampant desire. The latter, of course, is never consummated – Phillips, middle-aged roué, apparently a great success with the ladies, runs in blind terror to his deodorants when his conquest begins to undress. It is only too ironic that writer Michael Pertwee should have chosen – in a vain and wholly misdirected attempt at topical allusion – to make his farce-hypocrites into politicians running a campaign against pornography. The pornographer, in Lawrence's phrase, does dirt on sex; the writer of dirty comedies, in his own way, does much the same thing."[2]
Halliwell's Film Guide wrote: "stupefying from-the-stalls rendering of a successful stage farce; in this form it simply doesn't work".[3]
Radio Times stated that the film "reduces the precise timing of the double entendres, the bedroom entrances and exits and the dropped-trouser misunderstandings to the level of clumsy contrivance, which not even the slickest of players can redeem".[4]
The film was spun off into a sitcom, Men of Affairs, for ITV. The Leslie Phillips role went to Warren Mitchell.[5]