User reviews

I watched this film in the early hours on a VERY obscure Sky channel called 'Movies for Men' ( That says just about everything ) The ONLY reason I watched it was the hope of seeing the lovely Luan Peters with her clothes off . By any standard she is lovely . I had a real thing for her in the 70's and if any of you are 'Fawlty Towers ' fans , she was the Aussie in the yellow T shirt who Basil manhandles with oily hands .

The film is an illustration of the films that were bought out just to titillate male audiences and for film makers to see exactly what they could show .

The most laughable aspect is the actor Vince Ball, an aging Australian actor who must be years older than all the girls who describe him as 'gorgeous ' . I think he must of been a friend of somebody and probably paid them to get next to Ms Peters ! Like all these films it is more interesting to take note of the fashions, scenery, attitudes of the 70's rather than follow the plot .

The ending is weak and inconclusive . Really only for fans of Luan Peters .

I agree with all the reviewers here-this is pretty dire in respect of acting, script, dead unpopulated locations, unsatisfactory ending (for those who lasted the course!), limited flesh for those who paid their money in expectation back in the day...But:

It's of some interest as another example of that weird period in the early '70s of the Brit "sex comedy". I assume that the Aussie actor Vincent Ball ("A Town Like Alice" etc.) is thoroughly ashamed of this, though he does get to get down to the adorable Luan Peters. As I write (Nov. 2021) he's still around at 97-bless him! No-one else is worthy of remark, though rock enthusiasts will no doubt savour the appearance of Thunderclap Newman.

So to Ms Peters....she's what we called in the day "a nice bit of crumpet", absolutely perfect body, and well remembered as the Aussie girl in that "Fawlty Towers" episode. There's no other reason really to watch this; the "porn" sequence (more revealed on some overseas markets?) is laughable and, apparently, had to import American specialists as the local actors couldn't get the necessary enthusiasm up!

I liked the gym club sequence near the end where Ms Peters is in virginal white-verily the covered body stimulates more the imagination!

Thanks again to the UK's wonderful Talking Pictures channel for giving these little movies an airing. They will figure in historical studies in the future, believe me!

Now for the true story which explains how such an awful film came to be made and why.

The original screenplay, working title 'The Loving Game', was an intelligently written 3 hander about a, impossible to live with love affair. Alright, it was not exactly 'Casablanca' but not bad for its genre.

The eventual financial backers and distributors of 'Not Tonight Darling' (for such it had been renamed), Border Films, were the very last to be approached in the quest to raise the production budget.

Situated at the time at the very end of Wardour Street, the script had been touted around the circuit and, having been rejected by all and sundry, was surprisingly picked up by Border.

The real reason was simply that they were short of a British produced film which qualified for the Eady levy, allowing the lucrative import by Border of more foreign rubbish......but cheap rubbish.

This small distributor specialised in a more racy film style and the 'quid pro quo' for putting up the cash was a total rewrite. Lots of sex, nudity and a leading lady chosen more for her relationship with a big-wig with responsibility for circuit booking of films than for any special acting skills.

This is not meant to denigrate the lady in question or her acting talent but applies accurately to this production.

As part of the deal, an additional 2 minutes of 'hard-core' shooting were needed close the territorial film rights' sale to the Far East.

And so production started, lurching from one disaster to the next with Border not transferring money into the production company account as agreed and crew and actors going unpaid for long periods.

Finally, the special 2 minutes of hard-core required several good men and true to step up to the mark.

The first attempt at filming proved the old adage that 'the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak'. The poor lads just couldn't keep it up long enough to commit to film.

So a specialist troupe were flown in from New York for the scene and they proved well able to match the director's stringent requirements.

'Not Tonight Darling' was to be the first time that hard core material was sent to Humphries Labs for processing since the censorship laws had changed.

It was not until the rushes were delivered back to the production offices that the crew knew whether or not the scene had been junked. It hadn't and the 2 minutes were the best part of the film (never seen in the UK of course).

With money running out, tempers shortening, writers removing their name from the script and all of the normal problems of post-production, it is not surprising that all that came out was a turkey.

Ah well.........

Another undistinguished attempt to exploit the BBFC's slightly more liberal policy from about 1970, with a title suggesting the sort of naughty comedy that the British public were so fond of. Instead they get the story of Karen, a housewife with a young son who's neglected by her cold and pompous husband, falls prey to the voyeuristic fantasies of a sleazy shop assistant, prior to being seduced and blackmailed into swinging parties and porn by the repellent Alex, played by usually clean-cut Aussie hero-type, Vincent Ball.

It's a pretty glum affair, enlivened by Luan Peters, lovely and sympathetic as the vulnerable Karen. The husband's strange attitude is not explored and the ending is abrupt and unsatisfactory. It does make compelling viewing though for those interested in its era, not least those who enjoy revelling in how awful they consider things were back then. Certainly Ball 'grooving' to Thunderclap Newman, in rehearsal at La Valbonne, is hard to forget. They may have only had one hit, but I thought the group's appearance was about the highlight. There's a fleeting glimpse of a young, scarcely recognisable Fiona Richmond, while Bill Shine who'd started his film career over forty years previously, is seen enjoying The Tiffany Sisters strip in a Soho dive. Making a 'guest appearance' (how one member of the cast can be a guest beats me) is another veteran, James Hayter, making his first fictional venture into the retail trade as the store manager, prior to his more famous roles as the celebrated Mr. Tebbs in ARE YOU BEING SERVED? and the voice of 'Mr. Kipling'.

Confirming my theory that the 70s were the decade that taste forgot this movie has the production values of a school play and looks like it was shot in various crew members flats.

By modern standards it is utterly unsexy - it as also unfunny, undramatic, badly lit, the leaden dialogue is almost inaudible (spectacularly drowned out by traffic noises at one point) and there is no resolution to the incredibly thin story.

There is nothing to recommend it at all apart from the odd flash of breast - and a brief, weird interlude where two of the characters watch the band Thunderclap Newman rehearse a couple of numbers. (I guess that might be of historical interest to musicologists of the era... but it's easy to see why they only got to release one album.) The two watchers were shot without any idea of the music they were supposed to be listening to and probably had no playback to respond to so they tap their feet, nod their heads, and snap their fingers (groovy man!) in several random rhythms simultaneously - none of them unfortunately matching the music.

Avoid. (Why doesn't IMDb allow you to rate films as a zero ?)

A London housewife (Luan Peters) is bored with her sexually cold husband (Jason Twelvetrees -- and yes he is that wooden!) and is lead/blackmailed in to temptation with an Australian travelling salesman (Vincent Ball) and his rather more unbuttoned pals.

There are many films around where the story behind the film is far more interesting than the film itself. There are also films which are more interesting for the background than the foreground. This is both.

London in the early 70's was in a strange hangover of a place -- vice had been clamped down upon and the new thing were films that were sold as sexy, but were actually nothing of the kind (but hey, they have your money by then). Today this is less sexy than post watershed TV!

The one thing that I learn from watching this is that body painting had left the London sex scene as of 1971 and that heavy blue mascara could be worn all day long. Even in bed. Love the last sightings of the those wooden finished cars too.

Thunderclap Newman come on -- and don't (repeat don't) perform their only hit "Something in the Air."

Liz Taylor once said that she won an Oscar of Butterfield 8 because she had an utter contempt for the part (and her life at that time) and the Academy mistook it for great acting. No such luck for Peters who needs her whole life (on screen) to come apart to register emotion.

This is a film that has the air of multiple failure. The acting is cold and wooden and has a pretty bad script. Indeed if you stick with it, it doesn't even reach a conclusion to its rather weak storyline. That really twists the knife in the wound.

Antony Sloman (the director) is said to be one of the biggest film buffs in the UK -- but this proves that watching a lot of good movies doesn't mean you can learn a thing from them!

Back in 1971, if you had never seen this and someone summarised it as "young blonde wife, frustrated by her husband's total lack of libido, decides to explore her sexuality", then I'm sure you'd have parted with your 50p at the cinema just as I would.

However, you'd have barely had time to lick your drink-on-a-stick before you'd have realised you'd been sold a pup.

The film says nothing, the acting is dire, the direction non- existent, the storyline meanders, wanders, then concludes by saying "make of this what you will. I give up"

However, this film is not without redemption. Here's why:

a) If you ever wondered what a seedy Soho strip club looked like in the daytime, this is for you. And what about that compere? ("Okay, remove your raincoats")

b) Captain Harrison (Bill Shine) may not be on screen for long but he does have the best lines. ("He called me Bill. Well, it was my name)

c) You really have to see the camera-work in the health club scenes to believe it. The young lady on the vibrator belt especially.

d) Thunderclap Newman playing live (along the lines of The Yardbirds in 'Blow Up' or Alan Price in 'O Lucky Man'). A previous reviewer mentioned this would interest those interested in the music of the era. It does.

e) The, shall we say, 'incredible' dream scene in the grocer's shop. Hard to believe and more than a touch of The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band about it (if you recall Magical Mystery Tour).

So, all in all, a dreadful film if you look on it as a film - but a fascinating slice of what 1971 was capable of, if you come at it from another angle!

I saw this movie because I am a fan of Luan Peters and she looked great.

She was playing the role of a bored housewife....not trying to act! I believe this was made nearly 40 years ago...before all the digital, the CG, the high-tech that modern filmmakers are blessed with, but with a the little money that was available told a simple story of it's time.

The camera-work was unobtrusive...thank the Lord, unlike nowadays when cameras can go up somebody's nose or come out of their ****, for no other reason except... that the camera can! The mood of suburbia and the boredom was well displayed.

Someone writes, "Stop me if you've heard this one before: A bored housewife. A frigid husband. A scheming Lothario. A steamy affair. Secret photographs. Uh oh, blackmailed! Now she must star in some X-rated tapes or hubby will find out about her extra-marital activities....." This was 40 years ago...This was the original! The idea was so good, it's been copied hundreds of times DUH!

The people in the Olympics long ago ran as fast as they could in their time. Their numbers are laughingly slow compared to now, but they did their best and we should not make comparisons. Art is not comparative, art should be judged on its own merits. Luan rules OK!

NOT TONIGHT, DARLING is a surprisingly endearing British skin flick despite the obvious shortcomings of the plot and cast. A virtually forgotten low budget effort, this chronicles the adventures of a bored housewife who struggles with the inattentions of her husband and the Peeping Tom who spies on her when she's getting changed.

There really is no more plot to it than that - this is just a 'kitchen sink' style drama, enlivened with some sex scenes and a bit of skin here and there. Despite the fact that they're generally hopeless, I always get a kick out of this era of British film, where the scuzziness is outweighed by a great sense of realism and era authenticity. Hell, I feel nostalgic and I wasn't even there!

Fans will no doubt enjoy the cheesy song contributed by guest band 'Thunderclap Newman' - beaten only in terms of cheesiness by Stoneground's cameo in Dracula 1972 AD - and the general state of poor acting, particularly from the wooden male actors. Still, lead actress Luan Peters (TWINS OF EVIL) is a revelation: incredibly voluptuous and giving a sympathetic performance to boot.

Luan Peters, that ubiquitous, deliciously top-heavy, titanically titillating, honey-hipped 70s starlet, is amusingly cast in director, Anthony Sloman's forgotten suburban smut-a-rama. Perky Peters plays the maudlin, terminally housebound Mrs. Williams, long-suffering, consistently nookie-craving wife of her morbidly sexless hubby (Jason Twelvetrees). A splendidly bizarre 'comedy' wherein, Karen (Luan Peters) morosely goes through her monotonous day-to-day routine, consisting primarily of unnecessarily frequent purchases of toothpaste, hilariously obtuse exchanges with local shopkeeper Mr. Finlay(James Hayter), being letched at by the ratty-moustachioed assistant (Sean Barry-Weske), and a gossipy café Klatch with her equally scrumptious girlfriend.

Our erotically needful wife's dully repetitive, frustratingly chaste life is initially enlivened by smooth operator, Alex (Vincent Ball). Not too long thereafter, the voluptuous, Karen is sinisterly smarmed by this sleazy, serially shunting salesman. Their tentative fling descends darkly into a murky milieu of garishly garbed, Hep-Cat Hippie serial swingers, furtively filming cameras, overzealously frugging striptease artistes, and Alex's altogether sordid Super 8 machinations. While Sloman's sporadically smutty 'Not Tonight, Darling!' is far from the breast of British Sinema, even a little gauche, this gaudy gander at the pulchritudinous perfection of long-legged beauty, Luan Peters remains a jug-jigglingly joyful panoply of downbeat 70s nostalgia!

Stop me if you've heard this one before: A bored housewife. A frigid husband. A scheming Lothario. A steamy affair. Secret photographs. Uh oh, blackmailed! Now she must star in some X-rated tapes or hubby will find out about her extra-marital activities. Yep, this is unashamedly a T&A film with the bare minimum of plot but plenty of nudity, amply provided by lots of former page 3 girls. But while they look great in the paper, on film they have all the charisma of Pat Butcher from Eastenders. The situation isn't helped by the guys either who are without exception: ugly, hairy and overweight. Perhaps in the 70's these 'qualities' were considered attractive to the opposite sex. If I was growing up back then, I might not be the pathetic singleton I am now. No matter, I've now devoted my life to warning people like you to avoid dreadful movies like this. If you do this small favour for me, it will finally put some meaning back into my worthless existence. Think you can do it? 0/10

The demise of the British theatrical feature of the end of the sixties, along with the proliferation of sex cinemas, tempted a number of fringe operators into the production of Girlie Movies.

This one looks quite handsome, with established director of photography Waxman (Waterfront, I Thank A Fool) on board, as a favor to the then young crew. By the standards which must apply, it met the needs. The women are presentable. The dialogue is audible and the plot can be followed without any effort - enough for the demands of the British skin flic.

The real action had already moved on to TV where the technical standards left much to be desired but talent and ideas were showcased. These films proved a dead end.

Back in the early 2000s I briefly encountered a chap in a message board who claimed to have been Luan Peters's agent for short spell in the Seventies. He was coy about details of course, but if he was responsible for her involvement with Not Tonight Darling then I'm not surprised their association was short lived.

In the hands of a Pete Walker (who directed Luan twice and to good effect, and also distributed a few shorts with Border Films) NTD might have worked as gritty kitchen sink drama, a low rent British Gaillo or a lightweight sex farce. As it is, this is dull, aimless wander through 1970s London completely lacks whatsoever in humour, tension, observation or bite. It's like the director didn't know what kind of film he was making and couldn't be bothered finding out.

Apart from some location photography, Luan Peters is the only redeemable feature. She actually brings a degree of believability and emotion to her performance. Sadly, she's let down by the overall tepidness around her; I often wondered, given her popularity throughout the decade, she never reached the same cult status as Ingrid Pitt, Madeleine Smith or Caroline Munro when it was possiblly within her wherewithal; the moral here, maybe, is that favours can rebound.

Then again, NTD was just symptomatic of the malaise gripping British cinema for much of that period and beyond. These problems very nearly broke the Industry; so how much have we learned from them today?

Here isn't a bad story, about a bored woman, who's forced to participate in some pornos, by a friend of her husbands, where if she doesn't comply, she'll endure all that shame and humiliation whatever. Now what happened to the movie. There's heavy doses of nudity, and Vincent Ball, who we've seen in a lot of Aussie stuff, is a nasty piece of work as the blackmailer. One scene has the husband invited with him to a strip dance, where by two very young girls, put on a show for a few other dirty old pervs watch. The wife too, we do feel sorry for. She's very old fashioned, full of morality, who gets in some deep water, all on the count of her husbands negligence. She becomes a shock witness to orgies, what have you, that Ball hosts. Overall, the film is just weak, where they're should of been more plot, turning points, you name it, that strip scene kind of making up for it, that scene still lingering in my mind. It would be great, if we could erase this movie and start all over again. Just watch this for the skin factor, that's it.

Due to my sad life I will watch anything with a bit of nudity and I felt this was above average for the nudity.

Luan was both hot and innocent, story held up and was very believable for this type of movie.