Morecambe And Wise - Night Train To Murder [DVD] [1984]

I enjoy the lighthearted entertainment that is Morecambe and Wise
But....this was not in my view as good as it should have been.
The 'plot' is a well tested formula.
Enjoyable up to a point, memorable sadly no.
I ended up watching it because i bought it!
Having said that there are some funny moments typical of Morecambe and Wise
the card game on the train was a funny sketch, but that was it really it....

It is bitterly ironic that one of the factors in Morecambe and Wise moving to Thames was the possibility of making another film. Forget what anyone else says by way of mitigation; as Eric Morecambe himself recognised, the result is truly dire, and it can be ranked alongside Laurel and Hardy's ill-fated final venture Atoll K (otherwise known as Utopia). Understandably, it was buried in the TV schedules on first transmission.

But the worst of it is that Night Train to Murder is not even, technically, a film, as it's clearly shot on video, with all its attendant limitations. Had there been the richer visual possibilities of celluloid - and it's the kind of thing that yearns to be made in black and white, as an explicit homage to the 30s/40s films the pair loved - then at least you might have had the odd bit of stylish cinematography to distract you from the threadbare nature of every other aspect of this venture - and (with an effort at charity) some of the acting by the supporting cast might - possibly - have seemed a better fit. Exposed by video, much of the playing is embarrassingly hammy - and for that most of the blame must go to director Joe McGrath who, in my opinion, has produced more than his fair share of cinematic misfires over the years. Which does make you wonder: why weren't Thames more careful with the stars they'd paid so handsomely to lure away from the Beeb?

I remember someone saying that at least the BBC put the money up to support Morecambe and Wise - most famously stumping up not only for Mr Preview but an entire orchestra. On this evidence, however, whatever cinematic promises Thames dangled in front of the absconding duo were impudent bluff. There are, inevitably, occasional moments of warmth between Eric and Ernie themselves (they are credited as cowriters) but that is about all you can say of this venture, despite the biggish names in the supporting cast. Eddie Braben was not, it seems, involved, and Joe McGrath shares writing credits.

Morecambe and Wise's return to ITV minus regular writer Eddie Braben after their glory days at the BBC brought their ratings and the quality of their work into a nosedive, ending up rehashing the formula of their earlier variety shows rather than doing the more story-led feature-length one-offs they were initially promised. Night Train to Murder was the one exception, a made-for-television film the boys co-wrote with director Joe McGrath inspired by big screen 40s murder mysteries and dedicated to character players like Frank McHugh, Elisha Cook Jr. and Lyn Bari. Shelved for a year after Morecambe's death, it's generally regarded as a half-hearted epilogue to their career but, while problematic, it's actually a bit more interesting than that. The most surprising aspect is that, rather than reworking their television personas as their cinema features did, the two are actually acting in this. They may be playing the kind of post-war double-act playing regional theatres in the early scenes that draw heavily on their early days in the business, but they're much more realistic characters offstage, Morecambe in particular giving an initially beautifully underplayed character turn that doesn't go for the obvious beats, acting as a reminder that he wrote a surprisingly melancholy novel about a stand-up comedian, Mr Lonely.

Not that this is a naturalistic affair. The playing becomes a bit broader as the plot progresses into Cat and the Canary territory, with the boys accompanying Eric's niece Lysette Anthony and dodgy lawyer Fulton Mackay to the reading of a rich relative's will only for the prospective heirs to meet violent ends. Unfortunately the writing gets weaker as it progresses, much of it falling flat aside from the odd okay line or a surreal fourth wall-breaking gag involving a very noticeable change of actors on one role, all of which might have paid off rather more successfully if it had been better directed, but sadly Joe McGrath isn't up to the task. It also suffers hugely from being shot on videotape rather than film (both stars felt it looked cheap, and they weren't wrong) and it lacks the kind of effortlessly iconic supporting cast that the old studio quickies had, offering only the likes of Kenneth Haigh, Pamela Salem, Richard Vernon and, thankfully briefly, Edward Judd, the man who thought he was going to be the next Albert Finney before drink and difficult behaviour sunk his career, in a staggeringly poor turn as a drunken knife thrower in what you suspect is a bit of art imitating life bit of casting. You can see where this could have worked with better production values - even shooting in black and white could have made a difference - but while it's not the disaster of repute, you definitely get the feeling that ITV simply regarded it as an unwelcome contractual obligation to be knocked off as quickly and cheaply as possible before being dumped in the schedules when no-one was looking.

Fremantle's DVD continues the general disdain that dogged the film from birth: rather than include it on their set of the three Rank feature films they released it separately as a budget DVD title with every conceivable expense spared - not only does the cover feature no images from the film or credits but the disc has neither chapter stops nor menu. About the only thing that can be said for it is that it's an acceptable transfer with the canned laughter that accompanied its only TV screening removed.