The Carry Ons were a lean slice of British comedy: there was no fat, no unessential baggage in the scripts, performances or direction; they were never going to win an Oscar but, to be honest, no one intended them to. Each tightly packaged product didn’t need to aspire to such dramatic heights because they were worth their weight in gold for what they set out to be: simple, fun and sure to pack the auditoriums around the country. They are not to everyone’s liking, of course; there are those who regard the Carry Ons as smutty and sexist, but the vast majority of the viewing public looked forward to the next instalment in the film series. Medical romps were always popular, as were historical capers, but one of the essential ingredients in the success of the movies was their predictability: audiences loved knowing they’d see their favourite actor playing the same old role, such as Hattie Jacques as an imperious matron. The films evolved but retained their charm, although later entries – England, Emmannuelle and Columbus – were pallid versions of their predecessors, lacking many of the trademarks epitomising a true Carry On.
Original writer Norman Hudis was able to interweave hilarious situations with moments of pathos. Take the tearjerking final scenes in Sergeant, when the hard taskmaster, Sergeant Grimshaw, upon retiring from the army after seeing his final intake march away as a champion platoon, is presented with a cigarette lighter by the lads. Personally, I missed these moments of gravitas once Hudis headed to the States and was replaced by Mister Double Entendre himself, Talbot Rothwell, heralding a new era in the history of the Carry Ons and a difference in the approach. The comedy became more cheeky but was embraced with a warmth unrivalled by any series of comedy films produced. The saucy seaside-postcard humour appealed to the British masses and each production displayed an indefinable charm; nowadays, attempts to recreate the magic and atmosphere which surrounded the films would never succeed.
Despite the many other pictures Rogers and Thomas brought to the silver screen, it’s the Carry On films with which they’re most associated. When an unwanted script about the love of two ballet dancers, entitled The Bull Boys, landed on Rogers’ desk in the mid-1950s, the success story began. The basic premise of national service was adopted and Norman Hudis employed to write a screenplay entitled Carry On Sergeant. Costing £74,000 to produce, it became one of the top box-office successes of 1958, and was quickly followed by Nurse, the highest-earning film in Britain during 1959; it also gained plaudits in America, where it played at cinemas for over two years. The success story had well and truly begun.
Richard Webber
Minehead – September 2005
Writing this book has been an exhausting, time-consuming, painstaking yet enjoyable task. The trouble is, when you set out to pen an A-Z of any series of television programmes or films, it’s difficult to know when to take your fingers off the keyboard, switch off at the mains and declare the manuscript complete. Inevitably there’s always more you could write, extra detail you could include, points that could be explored from a different angle; but before you know it, a manageable task – although, at times, it can appear completely unmanageable – quickly turns into an uncontrollable monster.
Compiling an A-Z is beset with headaches. As well as the aforementioned points, one always has that nagging thought in the back of one’s mind that such a book has to try and include references to every minute scrap of detail concerning the subject matter – in this case, the Carry Ons – but to be honest, it’s not feasible. Usually time constraints provide the final discipline, and if it’s not time you’re short of, it’s the overall word count allowed by the publisher which restricts you. So, as you can see, it’s not been easy deciding what qualifies for inclusion in this A-Z of Carry On.
One of the most challenging tasks has been tracking down some of the actors, actresses and crew members associated with the films, many of whom have long since left the profession or are now treading the boards of that great theatre in the sky. With agents, Equity or Spotlight holding no contact details, it’s been virtually impossible, in some cases, to unearth relevant information about some of the actors’ lives to enable me to pen a profile in the book. Occasionally I’ve resorted to telephone directories and cold-calling in the hope of tracing some of the profession’s more elusive people. I have, therefore, included as many profiles as possible, thereby helping fans know at least a little more about the people associated with the films. If I was working to an open-ended contract in terms of delivery date for the manuscript perhaps I could take the next ten years or so and, no doubt, locate more performers, but, alas, that’s not feasible.
Although I’ve included details of the various stage productions and television episodes over the years, I’ve decided to focus primarily on the films that had people guffawing – albeit to varying degrees – in cinemas around the British Isles upon their release. Although the small-screen offerings and highly successful stage shows were authorised projects and provided welcome entertainment for fans, it’s the films which I regard as the stars of the Carry On canon. In the main body of the text, I’ve concentrated on the first thirty films, from Sergeant to Emmannuelle, with Columbus and London featuring in the ‘Carry On Revisited’ chapter.
As mentioned earlier, I’ve tried to make this tome as comprehensive as I could, cramming in as much information as possible, but there are bound to be some details or areas that haven’t made their way into the book. Nonetheless, I hope you find what is included informative, entertaining and helpful in answering all those nagging questions you have about the Carry On films. As well as actor and crew profiles, there are character profiles too. Even those unseen characters mentioned in the scripts have been given their rightful place in this publication, together with details of who mentioned them, in what film and the context in which their names were used.
And then there are the ‘What Might Have Been’ scenes. The majority, if not all, Carry On fans won’t have seen the scenes included under this heading. Most were probably cut before the film hit the cinemas, while others could have been lost when the big-screen version was adapted either for the small screen or video format. Then there are situations when a minor character perhaps had a little more to say before the editor’s knife was sharpened, resulting in the said character’s utterance extending to little more than a couple of lines. Whatever the circumstances, these selections makes interesting reading, such as the anaesthetist’s scene involving John Horsley and Terence Longdon in Nurse.
Carry On reading – oh, and enjoy it too.
STEP-BY-STEP HISTORY OF THE CARRY ON FILMS
1955
In August, Sydney Box commissioned R.F. Delderfield to write a film outline with the working title, National Service Story. The treatment was delivered but the project was abandoned in September.
1956
The Rogers and Thomas film partnership, as producer and director respectively, began in earnest with the release of Circus Friends for the Children’s Film Foundation.
1957
The National Service story was revisited and, in January, Sydney Box again commissioned Delderfield to prepare a screenplay, later titled The Bull Boys. When Box was unable to interest a financial backer, Rogers took the basic premise of conscription and decided to develop a comedy.
He approached Associated London Scripts for a scriptwriter to pen the screenplay. Spike Milligan and Eric Sykes turned down the chance but, in September, fellow writer John Antrobus was commissioned to complete a script for £750. Unfortunately the script didn’t meet with Rogers’