A few moments with June Whitfield

It was a dark and rainy night as I, afflicted with jet lag, stared at the walls of my hotel room. I considered an excursion, but my research suggested that I might have better luck trying the after-hours clubs somewhere bigger and wilder - Salt Lake City perhaps, or possibly Riyadh.

Too tired to work, too tense to sleep, I dialed up some light British comedy of the postwar, pre-Python era. Perhaps, I thought, some Goon Show, or a bit of Morecambe and Wise. But as often occurs in this modern age, The Algorithm had other ideas. As it digested my selections, it began to suggest entertainments from adjacent - but not necessarily good - genres. The salient proposal was Carry On Abroad, a movie best described as “made in England in 1972.”

I had heard of the Carry On series, but knew hardly anything about it. The British Film Institute calls it a “comedic institution”, and avers that the series holds '“an affectionate place in the nation’s cultural heart.” Ok…but is it good? TVTropes offers a stark warning::

Some say these movies have an important place in the history of British film comedy, others say they represent one of the lowest points of British comedy.

I will concede BFI’s point on the first item, but the second also seems close to the mark. The great Denis Norden once said “almost all comedy is of its time. You can't expect audiences now to laugh at what amused people 60 years ago.” Carry On Abroad is not bad, exactly, but it is completely of its time. It adheres to the pre-Python rule that comedy must never be too smart, and while there is endless slapstick and some clever wordplay, there is very little that a modern viewer would consider “funny”.

But audiences liked them. When Carry on Abroad was first shown on television it garnered one of the largest viewing audiences in British history. Thirty-one Carry On films were made between 1958 and 1992, plus three stage plays, a television series and four Christmas specials. Cheap to make, the films were a producer’s dream, particularly since the members of the core ensemble rejected revenue-sharing deals early on in favor upfront payment.

So I gave Carry on Abroad at try. It generally lived down to expectations, but about halfway through, something caught my eye. Why did that woman do that?

*A middle-aged matron glances at Giorgio, the waiter…*

And we move on to the next scene. What the…?

. . .

I paused here to go to IMDB and familiarize myself with the dramatis personae. I recognized some of the names - the great Hattie Jacques, of course, Eric Sykes’ sidekick for all those years - and Charles Hawtrey, known to my generation as the star of John Lennon’s intro to “I Dig a Pony”. And, playing our mysterious matron, June Whitfield.

No point making a meal of this, as Norden would say. At the end of Clips From a Life he provides succinct biographies of some of the people he worked with. Here is what he had to say about June -

Whitfield, June: gifted actress whose talents have rescued more comedy half-hours than the commercial break. Made her broadcasting debut in Take It From Here (1953) and subsequently costarred with more or less every leading comedy name in radio and Television from Arthur Askey and Tony Hancock to the Absolutely Fabulous (1992–2005) team.

Here she is, about 20 years before our Carry On movie, petite and demure in a Take it From Here cast photo:

*June on the left, the great Alma Cogan on the right*

As every schoolchild knows, Take it From Here was one of the defining British radio comedies of the 1950s, the show that made the reputations of writers Norden and Frank Muir. The pair would go on to even greater things, including running the BBC’s light entertainment division (quite briefly), while also developing a reputation for inserting monstrous puns into their scripts. Norden reports that Whitfield had the honor of delivering the only five syllable one they ever managed:

June Whitfield played the poor but honest north country working lass who is lured to his palatial mansion at midnight by the rascally mill-owner (Jimmy Edwards). ‘May I offer you a soda scone, my dear?’ he asks, his intentions plain for all to see. ‘Nay,’ she answers. ‘I never eat a soda scone so late.’ ‘But why not?’ ‘It makes me so disconsolate.’

But June was not just another comedienne. She had hidden depths. Norden credits her with providing the sexual tension that propelled The Glums, a popular recurring bit in Take it From Here:

In that era, early fifties, engaged couples such as Ron and Eth still did not Do It. Ron and Eth yearned to Do It and they were aware they would eventually Do It but during the interim the proprieties of the time forbade their Doing It.
It was that conflict of impulses which attracted us to their situation. As Mr Glum variously described it to Ron, it was ‘like trying to drive a car with one foot on the brake and the other on the accelerator’, or ‘like being given a present for Christmas that you’re not allowed to open till Easter’.
It was, however, within Eth rather than Ron that the banked fires raged fiercest. And while, by reason of the prevailing broadcasting ordinances, those feelings could never be made explicit, how skilfully June Whitfield hinted at them.

. . .

In Carry on Abroad, June plays Evelyn Blunt, a frosty middle-aged woman in a frosty marriage.

Things get so tense that her husband Stanley goes on a group tour and deliberately leaves her behind. When she comes down to the lobby, she finds it deserted, except for Giorgio, the waiter who caught her guilty attention earlier. Giorgio (played dead-straight by the estimable Ray Brooks) is not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he is dark, handsome, and earnest - and he knows a prospect when he sees one. Noting her disappointment, he offers a few ideas:

They share a drink, a few kind words. Giorgio’s maybe just doing his job, but Evelyn seems to feel better. In the middle of a dumb, raunchy film, this scene is heartfelt. A decent guy spending some time with a woman who hasn’t felt much appreciation in a long time.

Suddenly we hear the music swell. Giorgio rises and extends his hand, and whispers “may I please?” But Evelyn waves him off, and he sits down again.

Another beat, and then, urgently - yes, please.

From the moment they begin to dance Evelyn is transported. Her face traverses an array of midlife emotions - innocent in some way, nostalgic but also yearning, even a brief moment of guilt...

There it is again, that wicked grin.

Whitfield kills it. Her performance reminded me of something Donald O’Connor said about Jean Hagen’s turn as Lena Lamont in Singin’ in the Rain.

She was a straight, heavy, legit actress. I’ll you why that part is so good. They didn’t get a ditzy blonde to play the part.

Stanley will be in for a big surprise when he gets back. His wife suitably defrosted, the romantic feelings of the Mediterranean will take their natural course.

In its final minutes Carry On Abroad returns to the broad slapstick style of the rest of the film, including a climactic scene that Whitfield said was the most memorable of her career. The hotel is in terrible shape, and when Stanley flings himself upon her, the bed crashes through the floor, and into the ballroom below.

In later years Whitfield was invited to do a one-off for Absolutely Fabulous. She was so good they made her a regular.

An appreciation in The Guardian says Whitfield “fulfilled every actor’s dream of finding work that suited her perfectly at every stage of her life.” The Queen liked her too: she was awarded an OBE in 1985, a CBE in 2000 and, in 2017 became a dame.

Carry on Abroad - Youtube (link)
“The 5 best Carry Ons… and the 5 worst”, British Film Institute (link)
Denis Norden, Clips From a Life (link)
“Denis Norden recalls comedy pioneer early years”, BBC (link)
“June Whitfield: A Life in Pictures”, The Guardian (link)
“June Whitfield: 70 years a comedy giant”, The Guardian (link)

A few moments with June Whitfield

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