Actually that's not quite true. I don't hate them; I just wouldn't want to have to sit through a whole one. As socio-cultural artefacts that document the mid-20th century British obsession with bodily functions I find them fascinating. And the odd clip or two never did anybody any harm. "Infamy, infamy- they've all got it in for me!"- that's still the most outrageous joke ever committed to celluloid. But were we really all so gormless about sex on the cusp of the swinging sixties- so ineptly lubricious, so trouser-poppingly repressed? I'm sure I was. And that's probably why I can't bear to view them except at arms length- with tongs. Jim Dale, c'est moi.
Carry On? No Thanks
Actually that's not quite true. I don't hate them; I just wouldn't want to have to sit through a whole one. As socio-cultural artefacts that document the mid-20th century British obsession with bodily functions I find them fascinating. And the odd clip or two never did anybody any harm. "Infamy, infamy- they've all got it in for me!"- that's still the most outrageous joke ever committed to celluloid. But were we really all so gormless about sex on the cusp of the swinging sixties- so ineptly lubricious, so trouser-poppingly repressed? I'm sure I was. And that's probably why I can't bear to view them except at arms length- with tongs. Jim Dale, c'est moi.
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