Carry On films: Worst to Best. By Laurence Buxton 2018

Carry On films: Worst to Best. By Laurence Buxton 2018.

The Carry Ons remain a ‘marmite’ kind of experience. Many adore them, decades after their heyday, many others denounce them as being either outdated black and white irrelevances (the 1950s and early 1960s entries) or sub-Confessions, regressive sex comedies (the late 1960s and 1970s movies). Yet for many of us that caught them on terrestrial television in passing – an increasingly outdated concept in these days of downloads and binge watching – they remain something to treasure, a glorious example of great comic talent, in front of and behind the camera, working together to make something so seemingly effortless sidesplittingly funny. Furthermore the list of genres the films parodied: from Western to Horror to espionage to seafaring epics – is in my opinion unsurpassed in a movie series, particularly where the cast and crew: notably producer Peter Rogers and director Gerald Thomas: were so unchanged.

So with no further ado here is my list of worst to best Carry On films : -

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31st. Carry On England (1976).

A largely new cast (Patrick Mower, Diane Langton) for this WWII barracks-set caper, with just the odd familiar face backing up stalwart Kenneth Connor and the redoubtable Windsor Davies, appearing here alongside It Ain’t Half Hot Mum co-star Melvyn Hayes. The lack of veteran performers isn’t necessarily a dealbreaker, but the newbies don’t feel like they belong in the Carry On series: their charmless characters are sex-obsessed and obnoxious to Confessions-like levels and are given some excruciatingly childish behaviour and dialogue.

The toilet humour feels uncomfortable in a Carry On film, and the topless scene is far more overtly smutty than Barbara Windsor’s in Camping, with series regular Jack Douglas later stating it made him uncomfortable. Even late appearances from Peter Jones and Peter Butterworth fail to lift proceedings, and despite a rousing finale, a genuinely committed, intense tour-de-force by Connor as the unpopular but determined Captain and Davies successfully reprising the Sergeant Major part he’d perfected in then-recent sitcoms England sees the series on a permanent downward trajectory.

30th. Carry On Emmanuelle (1978).

Another busted flush for the series, this production strays even further into the gratuitous, very dated sex comedies of the late 1970s UK cinema scene than England. Kenneth Williams goes completely OTT here, parodying his on-screen persona as the frigid, prudish French ambassador. Suzanne Danielle, as his frustrated wife, lacks the sparkle of Elke Sommer in Carry On Behind, and the film somehow falls between two stools: not erotic enough for the mid to late seventies sex comedy audience but too leering for the more family-friendly Carry Ons, which would be a problem which would increasingly afflict the films as the 1970s progressed.

In fairness there’s some solid support from the underrated Larry Dann as Emmannuelle’s repressed admirer, some surprisingly understated material for Kenneth Connor, Peter Butterworth and Joan Sims, and a very amusing scene late on where Benny Hill’s straight man Henry McGee gets seduced on-air by the nymphomaniacal titular character. Overall, however, this is one to avoid.

29th. Carry On Columbus (1992).

A doomed attempt to resurrect the series in the 1990s, this is effectively an update of the lesser-remembered Carry On Jack, with a rather more ribald approach (it would be difficult to imagine Julian Clary’s camp one-liners being uttered by Hawtrey back in the day). There’s an all-star cast (Maureen Lipman, Alexei Sayle, Sara Crowe, Keith Allen, Rik Mayall, Nigel Planer, Martin Planer and Rik Mayall, to name but some) yet the only actors from the series’ heyday to get any significant screentime are Jim Dale as Christopher Columbus himself and Bernard Cribbens as Mordecai Mendoza.

On paper the 'retro-happy' nineties might have been a good time for the series to be resurrected, but the stars of the more politically correct and challenging alternative comedy scene don’t really translate their style of televisual humour into the tight, constrained style of the Carry Ons films or onto the big screen generally. It’s a sad waste of genuine comic talent such as Rik Mayall, whose own forays into feature films never quite matched his success on the box. The film was deemed a major flop and the critically mauling of more recent 1970s-style farces (take the Danny Dyer vehicle Run From Your Wife, for example) would seem to indicate the chances of another Carry On resurrection, even in our current reboot-heavy times, are slim to none.

28th. Carry On Cruising (1962).

Although it’s the first Carry On in colour this is actually one of the more dated of the films. Hudis’ innocent, philosophical humour feels increasingly out-of-place by this point and its early ‘Doctor’ films-style pacing and lovelorn romance feels too old-fashioned and quaint: Kenneth Connor’s pursuit of Dilys Laye being sweet but sluggish. Lance Percival does his best in a Charles Hawtrey-style role as the ship cook but he isn’t given the best of dialogue, Sid’s potential feels hemmed-in as he acts submissively in the face of female temptation whilst Kenneth Williams’ character tries the audience’s patience as much as he does Sid’s Captain.

On the plus side there’s a particularly fine performance from the underrated Esme Cannon – look at the sequence where she challenges Laye to a drinking contest, with increasingly inebriated results – and Ronnie Stevens’ cheerful drunk is always good company, but it’s not the best of the early movies.

27th. Carry On Constable (1960).

Sid James makes a big impression on his debut and certainly looks the part, even though it’s a bit of a patchy affair. Like the film that follows (Carry On Regardless) it’s an episodic affair, though this time that clearly wasn’t the intention. Stepping away from the rogues and heavies he’d mostly played in his earlier film career in England James runs his police station with no-nonsense common sense and glowering authority. As well as sharing an amusing rapport with Hattie Jacques’ startled Sergeant – the Carry Ons would get as much comic ground out of his partnerships with Jacques or Joan Sims as spouses as it would from his all-too-real chemistry with Barbara Windsor – his sense of naturalism is an instant success, grounding the film and giving the bumbling recruits (chinless wonder Leslie Phillips, clever-dick Kenneth Williams, giggly Charles Hawtrey and superstitious Kenneth Connor) someone to bounce off and be cowed by.

In truth not all the material works, with Connor’s character being downright odd and his fledgling romance with the rather more able Joan Sims simply not working, and Phillips is strangely subdued. Yet Williams and Hawtrey have at least one delightful scene where they go undercover dressed as women. That, and the famous shower scene, hint at a naughtier future for the films.

26th. Carry On Dick (1974).

A bit of a tired outing for an ageing cast, Sid’s final film, as Dick Turpin, gives him a chance to balance his familiar roguish, cackling persona with his alter-ego, the Reverend Flasher, in order to give the Bow Street Runners the slip. Some of the support is strong, such as Bernard Bresslaw’s angry Sir Roger Daley, Hattie Jacques’subtle and lovelorn Martha Hoggett and Kenneth Connor’s aged Constable.

However the movie is hindered by some more choppy editing, a general feeling that this ground had been covered more effectively in Don’t Lose Your Head and Kenneth Williams’ bizarre, overacted portrayal as Sid’s nemesis, which derails a potentially promising double-act with the more level-headed Jack Douglas. This would be the last time such a large collection of the old faces would be present, and it’s not as successful a send-off for the gang as, say, Abroad would have been.

25th. Carry On Again Doctor (1969).

Jim Dale severely hurt his back doing his own stunts making this movie, but from the seemingly-harmless collapsing hammock scene rather than from his other madcap antics. Along with his typically strong performance in what is effectively the lead role there’s a starring credit (albeit with limited screentime) for Sid after his then-recent heart attack, a less camp, more malicious role for Hawtrey and a particularly revealing part for Barbara Windsor.

The entire direction of the film changes around the point Sid is found on an island, which makes its structure rather disconcerting. However the scenes where Dale careers wildly around the hospital are striking even now and are the best remembered part of the picture. Not among the finest Carry Ons but it’s worth enjoying occasionally, if only for Jim’s fine farewell to the series (at least until Columbus).

24th. Carry On Henry (1971).

There’s a slightly uncomfortable feel about this flick, with a semi-serious Sid executing, roaring and ordering his way around as the Tudor despot. He’s on fine form but some of the jokes are a bit black for comfort (the opening scene where jokes are made about imminent execution leave a sour taste which never quite goes away), and some of the treatment of women feels backwards even amid the Benny Hill era. Reminiscent of the first Blackadder series at times there are further gags featuring torture – such as the famous ‘punctured Hawtrey’ visual joke – and it’s very difficult to warm to Sid throughout, which hadn’t even been the case in a darker role such as in Cowboy.

There’s also a repetitive feel to the latter part of the film, where an impatient Henry overreacts to setbacks by constantly sending Williams’ Thomas Cromwell and Terry Scott’s Cardinal Wolsey to be executed when he changes his mind about his intentions. However Barbara Windsor lifts the movie with her scenes, and there’s some pleasant location filming around Windsor to give the film a lush glamour.

23rd. Carry On Up The Jungle (1970).

Like Carry On Again Doctor this is a film of two halves. The first contains a lot of fun, particularly from the precious Frankie Howerd and the gun-toting hunter Sid, and the snake scene, whilst obvious, is superbly played and directed. It highlights the strength of the film: the very different interplay that Joan Sims has with rough-and-ready Sid, refined and prissy Frankie and upwardly-mobile but inferior Kenneth.

Despite some truly groanworthy gags such as Frankie’s “vindscreen viper” and some of the physical gags at their least subtle (Sid’s self-cocking gun) and the limitations of the tiny jungle camp the cast and crew do a fine job –even the Tarzan & Jane parody with Terry Scott and Jacqui Piper is sweetly done. Then, sadly, the gang come across the Lost World Of Aphrodisia, which despite the ever-welcome presence of Charles Hawtrey (basically reprising his cameo from Cowboy) descends into cringeworthy chanting (“Tonka, Tonka, stick it up your honker”), obvious spliced footage of the jungle animals and an outlook on women that even a Carry On fanatic would find rather backward. This latter quality was perhaps a key element of all the films, however, and Up The Jungle remains amusing in parts, if very much of its time.

22nd. Follow That Camel (1967).

The sole appearance of ‘Bilko’ himself in the series, Phil Silvers, effectively putting his own spin on the Sid role. The American comedy legend had a great working rapport with the likes of Dale and Bresslaw; not so much with Kenneth Williams. Although it’s a little close to Up The Khyber in its feel (and ultimately falls short of that film’s standard) it’s actually good fun, with some memorable creations, notably Bresslaw’s menacing Sheikh Abdul Abulbul and William’s pompous commandant.

Angela Douglas does well with her role, though with her character being seduced by virtually every male stranger in the movie it would probably cut little ice now. The final siege is staged well, with a clever decoy tactic to fool Bresslaw and some inventive ways of repelling his forces. Curiously the use of Camber Sands as a location works well to represent the Sahara and shows the inventiveness of the cost-aware production team once again.

21st. Carry On Matron (1972).

The most colourful of the medical-themed Carry Ons, this very 1970s outing sees Terry Scott in particular at his randiest, playing Doctor Prodd. The bizarre plot is driven by Sid and his gang trying to steal birth control pills from the maternity department. There’s some strong scenes with the three of them: the one where (argue over bus routes) is superbly done, with each gang member reluctantly being drawn into the disagreement, and Sid delivers some of his most stinging putdowns. There’s also a couple of funny running jokes around the perpetually-eating and expectant Joan Sims and her railway worker husband Kenneth Connor, but the real star here is Hattie Jacques, who perhaps should have had top billing as the generally calm and dry-witted title character who rules the ward with gentle authority.

Not everything hits the mark: Cope doesn’t seem totally at ease in his dragged-up role and Williams and Hawtrey’s behaviour is as unhinged as it is funny, whilst Terry Scott’s sex-crazed behaviour is a little excessive, though he does get one great gag where he adapts his ‘good news’ to ‘bad news’ on hearing that a would-be mother is not married after all. A little patchy, but Carry On Matron has got enough good writing and familiar performances to lift the spirits.

20th. Carry On Nurse (1959).

As the second entry in the series this is unsurprisingly the most restrained of the medical Carry Ons, lacking a wimpish, complaining Frankie Howerd or the innuendo of the later movies. Everyone’s in similar roles to Sergeant – Williams is again the know-it-all rather than the increasingly camp, sneering and sometimes cerebrally-challenged persona he would later adopt, and there’s a welcome addition of Leslie Phillips whose ‘jolly good show’ character adds a touch of fun to proceedings. Hattie Jacques makes the part of Matron her own and is easily the standout here.

There’s a touch more energy to the film than Sergeant with the mock operation scene, whilst the ‘daffodil’ finale, with Wilfred Hyde Whyte, is perhaps the film’s most famous scene and one of the series’ warmest. Like Sergeant it’s a throwback to more innocent times and though lacking Sergeant’s streamlined resolution or its sense of the character’s personal growth it was successful enough in its setting to make the hospital an area the series would revisit a further three times.

19th. Carry On Girls (1973).

Girls is about as ‘cor, not ‘alf’ as the Carry On films get (though a few later entries would run it close). However it holds up pretty well, despite disregarding the near-the-knuckle but not-too-near ethos which set the movies apart from more tawdry fare. Newcomers such as Jack Douglas’s character is a delight, as is Peter Butterworth’s aged but mischievous Admiral, though the show is stolen by the brilliant Kenneth Connors creation, forming brilliant double-acts both with his downtrodden wife (played by Patsy Rolands) and with the imperious, strident feminist Mrs Prodworthy (a wonderful June Whitfield).

The setting is as cheap and cheerful as it gets, the editing is all over the place –notably in the second half of the film – and precious modern critics would pour scorn on the sexism of the Miss World storyline, not to mention the stereotypical gay and lesbian characters, but Rogers and Thomas never said they were changing the world. The scenes with Bernie Bresslaw are arguably the funniest ‘drag’ scenes in the series, and taken on its own terms it’s still a funny movie, even if Williams and Hawtrey are missed.

18th. Carry On Jack (1963).

A bit lighter on the belly laughs and a bit heavier on the seafaring scenes and genuinely dramatic actors featured (Peter Gilmore, Donald Houston, Cecil Parker), this slightly atypical Carry On is bolstered by a very effective lead performance from national treasure Bernard Cribbens. He’s a boy thrown into the man’s world of naval warfare after being pressganged aboard the Venus, and finds himself dealing with Charles Hawtrey’s jewish cabinboy and Kenneth Williams’ sickly Captain Fearless.

Both are on top form and there’s a wonderful early appearance by Jim Dale, whilst the crew do a surprisingly good job at convincing they’re not just filming around Pinewood. It might be old-fashioned in places and the pace seems to sag as the plotline meanders in the middle, but it’s also proof that the series could lampoon whichever genre it felt like.

17th. Carry On Loving (1970).

This movie plays closer to straight farce than most others in the series. To this end it’s driven not so much by the regulars – though Sid’s using of his love agency in order to get his leg over drives the plot – but by Richard O’Callaghan’s inexperienced, Kenneth Connor-like Bertram Muffett, a wonderfully funny creation with just as more quirkiness but even more loveability, and Jacqui Piper’s sparkling and warm Sally Martin, who takes an instant shine to the naïve and virginal bumbler.

There’s effective humour elsewhere too with Sid being tailed by Charlie Hawtrey’s inept private eye, and a genuinely funny denouement where Kenneth’s private homelife is wrecked by the arrival of more and more characters including loved-up and psychotic wrestler (played by Bernard Bresslaw). One of the less-remembered films (apart from the well-paced custard pie fight), but with plenty of other funny scenes and well worth a look.

16th. Carry On Teacher (1959).

Ted Ray takes the lead role for the first and only time here, and adds a special sensitivity and melancholy to his role as ‘Wakey’, a headteacher looking to leave to take on a new school. Ray’s presence gives a unique bittersweet quality to this Carry On: even for an early entry it’s got restrained moments and some well-balanced Hudis dialogue which balances the teachers who favour subtle corrective methods with the pupils (such as Kenneth Williams), and those who prefer corporal punishment (such as Hattie Jacques), and the script shows that all of them might ultimately fall into the grey area in the middle.

Leslie Phillips provides good fun, Joan Sims gets the chance to make a major first impression as enthusiastic but accident-prone Miss Alcock who attracts Leslie’s eye, and there’s yet more Kenneth Connor romantic yearnings. It’s one of the stronger early movies, with well-drawn sympathetic characters and semi-serious performances, though whilst Ray’s sole film as lead is sadly unappreciated his replacement, a certain Sidney James, was ready to grasp his chance.

15th. Carry On Cowboy (1965).

Another bold choice to parody a genre which, like Jack, was not an obvious one for the very British Carry On films. Sid relished taking the chance to take the villainous role, which due to his swarthy appearance, masculine demeanour and harsh timbre, he’d had plenty of experience playing before in films. However he largely underplays his ruthless role, contrasting with Kenneth Williams’ prudish and devious Judge Burke, Jim Dale is outstanding in the lead role of Marshal P Knutt and Charles Hawtrey plays to his Carry On persona in the unlikely form of Big Heap: in a role where you’d expect the formidable Bresslaw to make an appearance it’s one of his funniest entrances.

Joan Sims and Angela Douglas, as the leading ladies, also glide through the unfamiliar setting with surprising ease. The final showdown between Dale and James is brilliantly built-up to by Thomas, with the former facing a race against time to master gunplay from the rather more self-assured Douglas – a rare chance for traditional gender roles to be reversed. Achieving a remarkable level of conviction and atmosphere on a typical low budget, Cowboy has plenty to recommend it.

14th. Carry On Regardless (1961).

This frantic film is almost as much a variety sketch show as a film with a feature-length narrative. Sid James runs a job agency, and the rest of the cast are largely workseekers who are given, and engage in, a number of quirky tasks. The finest of the bunch are Kenneth Williams’ character being employed to look after a chimpanzee (which at one point is confused for his brother) and Charles Hawtrey ending up in a boxing ring.

It’s a bit of a mixed bag, however, as not all of the other sequences are quite as memorable or coherent – Connor’s celebrated Strangers On A Train-style spoof is well-shot but makes little sense, and Sid’s ‘inspection’ of the nurses is too tame to lead anywhere funny – but the regular appearances of Stanley Unwin spouting his unique brand of gobbledegook are great fun, with James as bewildered as the multi-lingual Williams is in complete understanding. There’s also a particularly uplifting ending when the team work together on cleaning a property, with unexpected results. It’s not perfect but it’s still one of the finer of the earlier, Norman Hudis-penned movies, with less clunky dialogue and a tendency to play to its most talented comic actors’ strengths, and a breezy, fun way to pass a rainy afternoon.

13th. Carry On At Your Convenience (1971).

The title makes a wry comment at the critical treatment of the Carry On films as being like toilets coming off a conveyor belt. Nonetheless there’s some strong performances here and some excellent material, notably during the Sid-Hattie home scenes where the two bicker (and in an unexpected development discover they have a bird that can predict the future): both are given a chance to flex their comic chops as they points-score off the other. By this stage Sid’s more homely image was being well catered for, and in this regard the tentative romance between next-door neighbours and colleagues Sid and Joan even contains a touch of pathos rare to the later entries in particular.

The high jinks where a union meeting gets disrupted and the work trip to the seaside are very enjoyable too, making the viewer feel like they’re in a big party and purely British. The film suffers a little from O’Callaghan’s arrogant Lew Boggs character being rather less endearing this time around than Bertram Muffett, and love rival Kenneth Cope’s rather stereotypically ‘bolshy unionist’ character didn’t sit too well with the films’ traditional working-class audience. Yet despite this the movie finds plenty for its cast to do and shares the funny lines out well.

12th. That’s Carry On (1977).

With Sid having sadly passed away and the films running down by the late 1970s this ‘best of’ is actually a lot more fun than it could have been, blessed by the fabulous on-screen comic chemistry of Kenneth Williams and Barbara Windsor. The two play up their more extreme personas – Kenny is flamboyant, full of mock-Churchillian pomp and increasingly fraught facial expressions as he struggles with his full bladder, while Babs cackles, giggles and takes the mick with great timing throughout.

The two longterm friends walk the audience through a series of the series’ most famous sequences, largely in chronological order. This would probably have been the ideal time to call it a day; sadly it was not to be. Well worth catching if it appears on the television and a good way to remind yourself of the sheer range of genres lampooned and classic moments in the franchise, this might just be the ideal way to introduce a newbie to the world of the Carry Ons.

11th. Carry On Sergeant (1958).

A world away from the nudge-nudge, wink-wink of later films, this was where it all started. There’s no Sid (William Hartnell is the figure of authority here), Williams’ persona is snooty and intellectual rather than camp, and only really Kenny Connor and Charles Hawtrey are in the kind of roles they would be playing for the next decade plus. There’s the curiosity of seeing Bill the likes of Owen of Last Of The Summer Wine fame (he would go on to appear again in the series) and Bob Monkhouse as the closest thing to a romantic lead.

However with support from the likes of Hattie Jacques you can see the seeds of a successful series start to be sown. There’s also a majestic role for Hartnell as the title character Sergeant Grimshaw, some fine work by Connor and a wonderful if slightly unlikely finale where the recruits finally make their leader proud. It’s a pretty solid entry in the series in its own right, and for those who prefer Norman Hudis to Talbot Rothwell as scriptwriter it adds a touch of psychology and intelligence to the standard barracks movies of the era.

10th. Carry On Camping (1969).

Often top of the ‘favourites’ charts along with Screaming and Up The Khyber, Camping’s notorious out-of-season filming doesn’t hinder some wonderfully funny performances by the main cast in roles that had now become utterly comfortable. Sid’s at his most comfortably lecherous, trying to lure his mate and their girlfriends to a nudist camp, Kenneth is attempting to run a girls’ and fight off Hattie Jacques’ Matron, and Charles Hawtrey attempts to get a free spot in the tent with the sex-starved Terry Scott and the eccentric Betty Marsden.

The film makes no concession to the changing times: if anything it actively rebuffs them, with Sid and co disguising themselves as hippies in order to sabotage a ‘peace and love’ festival in the next field. But if the Carry Ons were dubious about progressive ideals then it doesn’t hinder the humour – Barbara’s top flying off is just one of many hilarious setpieces (Sid & Bernie’s tent accidentally being inflated, Kenneth being wooed by Hattie, Hawtrey, Scott and Marsden struggling to get three into a two-man tent).

9th. Carry On Behind (1975).

This entry generally gets shoved near the bottom (pun intended) of the ‘best of’ lists, which I respectfully disagree with. Behind takes the aforementioned Camping and updates it to the caravanning era of the mid-1970s. Despite Sid being absent Windsor Davies forms a brilliant Sid-Bernie style partnership with Jack Douglas. Kenneth Williams’ Professor Crump is one of his funniest characters, running into trouble in the opening scene where his archeology lecture is derailed when a smutty film is put into the projector instead and struggling to share a ‘dirty caravan’ with Elke Sommer’s free-spirited Professor Vooshka.

There’s also a grounded quality with the addition of the ‘three’s a crowd’ holidaymakers of Bernie, Patsy and mother-in-law Joan Sims, and Ian Lavender, Adrienne Posta and their dog. There’s even a minah bird with a tendency to say the muckiest things at the worst moments and a plot development that reunites Joan Sims with husband Peter Butterworth. A plot development with sink holes all over the campsite helps brings the movie to an end: perhaps the series too. But despite the occasional scene that feels uncomfortably forward even for its time (the moment near the end where one of the archaeological students blatantly grabs the nearest cleavage) the film is full of some great two-hander dialogue, such as the scenes where Windsor and Jack discuss their different priorities in going on a camping holiday, as well as some surprisingly sly observations about marital ennui.

8th. Carry On Doctor (1967).

Filming of this latest medical comedy could have been severely hindered by Sid James’ real-life heart attack. However the addition of series debutant Frankie Howerd, filling some of the screentime where the reduced Sid would have been, is a masterstroke: his hyperchondriac charlatan takes the lion’s share of the laughs as his belief in faith over medicine is severely tested when he suffers a tumble.

There’s good supporting humour from Sid with his secret smoking under the bed covers, Charles Hawtrey’s ‘sympathetic pregnancy’ when his screen wife goes into labour, and there’s another fine performance from Jim Dale, whose sympathetic Doctor clashes with Williams’ heartless, cackling surgeon, and he also handles himself well in the rooftop scene (complete with dutch angles and dramatic strings). Truth be told it’s probably the finest of the hospital-themed Carry Ons, and on the basis of this performance it’s a shame that Howerd would only appear in one more movie with the gang.

7th. Carry On Cabby (1963).

One of the grittier offerings in a series that wasn’t generally known for its kitchen-sink melancholy and frustration. Carry On Cabby sees Sid play the boss of his cab company, whilst getting behind the wheel himself, and he bounces well off his two most prominent drivers: the downtrodden Kenneth Connor and the camp, enthusiastic Hawtrey (who had to take a crash course in driving before filming).

Jim Dale, still yet to take a leading role in the show, makes an early cameo here and impresses. But playing perhaps her finest role in the films Hattie Jacques, as Sid’s lonely and neglected wife, sets up a rival firm whose ‘Glam Cabs’ challenge the old-fashioned patriarchy of Sid’s world of male-only cab drivers, and threatens to steal the show. The climactic hijack sequence is a little ‘damsel in distress’ (as ever the Carry Ons tended to support old values rather than challenge them) but it’s well-staged and convincingly filmed.

6th. Carry On Screaming! (1966).

With Harry H Corbett taking the lead role from the indisposed Sid (for his one and only Carry On) it’s difficult to imagine anyone else in it: the Steptoe And Son star, equally adept playing comedy and drama, is outstanding. Actually everyone’s on great form here: Kenneth Williams as the white-faced, twitching Dr Watt and the late Fenella Fielding as his sister, the sultry Valeria Watt.

There’s also brilliant support from Charles Hawtrey’s Dan Dann and Jon Pertwee’s Doctor Fettle: wherever you look there’s funny characters, sarcastic observations and, crucially, a genuine sense of foggy tension and peril. Screaming often vies for the best Carry On and it’s easy to see why: far funnier than many of the subsequent attempts to pair horror and comedy outside the series. It’s a camp delight throughout.

5th. Carry On Spying (1964).

Despite a reduced cast of Carry On stars in comparison to even the then-recent movies, Spying – sensibly filmed in black and white – is one of the more accomplished films. Whilst the core characters are down to a quartet they’re all well-developed and written for here. Superior but guileless Kenneth Williams leads the quartet which includes quick-learner Barbara Windsor, wimpish Charles Hawtrey and determined Bernard Cribbens, and the group spend their time blundering around Vienna (in a clever parody of The Third Man) and Morocco, accidentally foiling Jim Dale’s rather more accomplished spy.

These make up some of the funniest scenes in the movie, his reaction shot when Williams apparently takes vital paperwork from Victor Maddern’s enemy agent only to give it straight back to him is one of the best parts of the movie. There’s solid support from the likes of Eric Barker and Richard Wattis and the movie is in some ways a more gentle, enjoyable spoof of the James Bond series than the rather more brash Austin Powers films. As a final observation the chief antagonist is revealed to be non-binary: perhaps the Carry Ons weren’t quite as socially regressive after all?

4th. Carry On Cleo (1964).

A joy from start to finish, Carry On Cleo is plotted in an almost Shakespearean fashion, with the plot driven by mistaken identities, but there’s also classic sequence after classic sequence: the ‘infamy’ scene, Connor’s fake battle, Hawtrey hiding in the urn and calling himself “Little Ernie”. Kenneth Williams and Joan Sims spark off each other brilliantly as Caesar and his wife, and Sid James, hitherto loyal, is turned against his leader by Amanda Barrie’s dim yet alluring Cleopatra.

If Kenneth Williams arguably steals the show as the wimpish, complaining Caesar then Barrie, James and Connor aren’t far behind, whilst E V H Emmett’s pompous but dry-witted narration adds further chuckles. Most of the Carry On films are embellished by strong double-acts and this has plenty: Williams and Sims, Williams and James or Connor and Dale: the incompetent Hengist Pod is one of the long-serving Connor’s funniest characters and contrasts nicely with Dale’s dashing heroics. Carry On Cleo is an excellent comedy film, unquestionably one of the series’ high points.

3rd. Don’t Lose Your Head (1966).

Boasting wonderful location filming outside of Pinewood Don’t Lose Your Head is a far lusher, more satisfying picture than the rather tired, derivative Dick. The Kenneth Williams-Peter Butterworth duo of bickering villains is one of the most satisfying double-acts the series produced. Like in Carry On Dick Sid again gets to play two roles, this time the camp, Hawtrey-like role of Sir Rodney Ffing – and that’s before you get the chance to catch James in his unforgettable drag scene getting to kiss Williams: who says James always played it butch?

There’s barely a weak moment, apart from a bit of padding before James, Dale and Hawtrey (stealing the show with a sparkling performance, particularly in the side-splitting guillotine scenes at the start) attack at the end, but it’s a film that takes the best of the historical Carry Ons, plenty of derring-do, a cast at their most inspired and fresh and some sumptuous locations.

2nd. Carry On Abroad (1972).

The cheap and not-always-cheerful world of the package holiday, as relevant in these times as then, is brilliantly lampooned here. This is a perfect example of how well-observed and sharp the satire of the Carry Ons could be, behind all of the 'oo-ers' and ‘not ‘alfs’. A fine collection of regulars all get funny material in the excursion to the Elsbels Spanish resort, whether it’s the love triangle of Sid, Babs and Joan Sims, the sexless marriage of Kenneth Connor and June Whitfield or the cheerfully inebriated Charles Hawtrey’s random but always delightful appearances.

There’s plenty of great material for guest star Jimmy Logan, such as the running gag where he goes out onto the balcony only to have it collapse – twice! – and there’s even a rare, successful romance between Kenneth Williams and his besotted assistant Miss Plunkett. Peter Butterworth and Hattie Jacques make a fine, bickering couple as they try to run the (literally) crumbling hotel, and the fantastically-paced finale is one of the most successful in the series’ history, packed with great sight gags and a feeling of impending chaos. The end party at Sid’s party is a fine send-off, not least for Charles Hawtrey who would not make another Carry On film. A delight, from beginning to end.

1st. Carry On Up The Khyber (1968).

It’s more difficult to come up with reasons against this affectionate mocking of colonial Britain winning ‘best Carry On’ than for. Sid is at his most effortlessly dominant, bouncing brilliantly off the likes of Joan Sims, series one-off Roy Castle (in a Jim Dale-style role here but with a little less romance and a touch more stuffiness) and Julian Holloway. Rothwell’s script allows the chance for the British pomposity to be pricked, notably by Peter Butterworth’s terrified audience identification figure. Meanwhile Kenneth Williams, underplaying very effectively at times (which later films lacked) gives and takes frustrated observations on British behaviour with the menacing, brutish Bresslaw.

The cameos are quite wonderful – Cardew Robinson’s ever-enthusiastic fakir, even after losing his head – Terry Scott’s bellowing Sergeant Major is probably his finest hour, combining laughs with authority and constantly clashing with Hawtrey’s reluctant Private Widdle. There are too many classic scenes to mention; the dinner scene where the British cheerfully disregard the palace slowly being destroyed around them, Scott and Hawtrey’s disastrous last stand, Williams misunderstanding the Burpas ways of communicating (“they do everything backwards”) the trouser-dropping farce of James being caught out by Sims after ‘going for tiffin’ one too many times.

Brilliantly funny, sharp yet endearing, Up The Khyber stands as not just the Carry On films’ finest moment but arguably British comedy’s too.

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THE END (please comment if you have any thoughts on this article or the subject).