Sir Henry at Rawlinson End

I saw this film in the Cinecenta in Panton Street when it was first released. I was so surprised that I went back in to watch it a second time. That was probably not the best use of £3.25 but I didn't regret the spending of it. I have seen it many times since and am still filled with that original sense of awe and mystification. And I love to share it. The sheer poetry and feeling of Theatre de Absurdisme. The unpredictability and blunt refusal to genuflect at the altar of political correctness (gone mad).

I recently had the opportunity of watching it with an American film buff. At the end he turned to me and asked "Can you tell me what that was about?" From this I gathered that American film buffs need to know about things like themes and analysis. Anyway, the answer still is that I don't know what this film is "about", any more than I know what my son's haircut is "about".

Some years ago I had the chance to ask Vernon Dudley Bowhay-Nowell (the ukulele player who gets stabbed with the bison horn) what it was all about. He didn't know either.

A truly eccentric British film based upon an even more eccentric story by Viv Stanshall. Trevor Howard is magnificent as Sir Henry and is supported by many other stalwarts of the UK film industry. Trevor Howard was a true actor - tackling both mainstream and experimental parts - some of todays famous actors should take note. The plot, Sir Henry's attempt to exorcise the ghost of his brother Humbert, has many strange and entertaining asides woven around it. Look out for the "pet prisoners of war", the unicycle scene, the dinner party and the incredible Mrs E. The film suffers from a very low budget - the sound is appalling at times and I suspect it may have been shot on 16mm. It was also in B/W though this seem to add to the overall feel. Sir Henry is also available as a book and was also an LP though this seem to be very rare. The LP is quite different to the film in both content and expression. This film is not for anyone wanting a British "carry on" style comedy - but rather a highly sophisticated and subtle film with comic elements. The UK film industry should have taken note instead of producing the comedy dross that it did at this period.

I don't have a lot to add to the previous comments - just wanted to get that one-line summary in.

I saw "Sir Henry" when it first came out, not knowing the Bonzos or Viv Stanshall at the time and not knowing the characters' previous incarnations. Sometimes baffling but incredibly amusing. The "German" prisoners are wonderful. Sound was pretty bad, a problem for American viewers given the thick, country-ish English accents. Most annoying during the scene where Old Scrotum sings a comic song at a (comically) ratty town festival of some kind. I was laughing, but not knowing exactly why.

Direction is good, too. Alan Mowbray and Peter Chelsom are the only other true representatives of this drolly rambling style, and Roberts seems to have given it up subsequently. There's definitely a method to the madness.

Favorite lines: "Germany calling!" "Fetch me my antlers - no, not those antlers - the ones I use to deface Reader's Digest!"

"The cracks are showing, listen to the loonies croon". Perhaps the most remarkable thing among many remarkable things about this film is that it was ever made. It is a surreal, nonsensical, sepia tinted memorial to a glorious, politically incorrect, past that never was that will nevertheless inspire a sense of nostalgia in every British viewer of a certain age. Beyond that, even to British viewers, it makes very little sense whatsoever. That however is to entirely miss the point. Whether the product of alcoholiday or derangement, or both, the film is a buried and largely unknown gem.

Buy the DVD! Why? - Because to watch the great Trevor Howard, seemingly perfectly in his element as the "brandy baffled rhinoceros Fuhrer" of Rawlinson End is, alone, worth the money; because you will almost certainly never see it on television again; because you will want to watch it time after time, (the second to at least actually confirm that you weren't hallucinating when you watched it the first), and then to get more and more of what is a very, very, rich seventy one minute running time. Some scenes don't work, but the pace of the film is so rapid you won't have the opportunity to become bored. Like me you may also get huge if guilty enjoyment out of casually slipping it into your DVD player when unsuspecting friends come to visit and you suggest they might like to watch a movie you've come across.

Having done that please also buy the album. Yes, there is an album, (not a soundtrack) which, in my opinion is even stranger and laugh out loud funnier than the film.

Mad, propelled by language and stereotype reinvented by surreal humour, this is a unique and brilliant film of a text which ranks with 'Under Milk Wood'or 'Facade' by Edith Sitwell. There are, however, too many references to 'sambos' and 'jungle bunnies' for my liking although I appreciate that the characters are supposed to be reactionary, the narrator also joins in. I suspect that Vivian Stanshall both loved and hated his subject matter. If you want a living parallel, try the poetry of Mike Haslam.

Given the junk, like Pirates of the Caribbean, which gets 7.5 +, I don't think the assessment of this film reflects its uniqueness. It's good to see Trevor Howard debunking Englishness too.