Spanish Fly: An Acquired Taste

10th July 2013

By Harriet Mould

Spanish Fly, a gently erotic comedy based on a German play, set in Spain starring English actors, was re-imagined for the big screen in 1976 by Bob Kellett. Responsible for quintessentially British comedies such as Futtocks End (1970) and The Chastity Belt (1971), Kellett leant starring roles to overwhelmingly English comic actors Lesley Phillips (Empire of the Sun and, as the Sorting Hat in the Harry Potter films) and Terry-Thomas (The Abominable Dr. Phibes).

The result of Kellet’s efforts is a film that is wholly Carry On in its style. The opening sequence introduces the audience to Spain through the eyes of a seventies British sightseer, as we follow back roads and costal routes from the bonnet of plush Bentley owned by one of our leading men, the eccentric gin and tonic obsessed expat Sir Percy de Courcy (Terry-Thomas) who, accompanied by a very British soundtrack and his right hand man, the obviously-named Perkins (Graham Armitage), is the first half of the largely uncomfortable storyline.

Sir Percy, it quickly becomes apparent, has made a series of unsuccessful ventures that has left him with a lavish lifestyle that he is unable to afford. In an effort to improve his circumstances, Sir Percy buys a huge amount of very cheap local wine with a mind to re-sell it to his British countrymen, explaining that ‘with the right amount of snobbery attached, people will buy anything. Especially the English.’ Almost on queue, enter his hugely snobby schoolmate, tiredly impotent British businessman Mike Scott, who has found himself overseas accompanied by four beautiful models who are there to shoot his wife’s lingerie line. But of course.

spanishfly

In an effort to improve Sir Percy’s ‘cats piss’ wine, Perkins (effectively the comically smarter Watson to Percy’s bumbling Sherlock) attempts to improve the batch, accidentally polluting it with Spanish flies, famed for their aphrodisiac properties, and needless to say, model-based frivolities ensue. It is the type of comedy that, at the time of its release, was hugely daring, wildly amusing in its slapstick, naughty way, and a certain hit with the generations fed by the earlier hits of Spanish Fly’s leading men. However, unlike the free flowing wine, it is not a film that has aged well at all.

Whilst once upon a time, Terry-Thomas’ gap-toothed grin and school-boyish Lesley Phillips’ slick hair might’ve been the source of much amusement to cinemagoers, to modern (okay, modern, young female) eyes, their scuttling after oddly besotted, personality-less beautiful young women is little more than disturbing and distasteful. It is quite clear to any generation that neither man is in their prime, and the age difference between the men and the (wholly one dimensional) models is just enough for the viewer, irrespective of their level of prudishness or liberalism, to identify the plot as seedy and misogynistic. As a viewer watching for the first time now, these veins of smarmy sexism swell to bursting point under the strain of modern acceptability. There is only so many times a person can dismiss under-skirt groping of utterly empty female leads as ‘of the time’. This may have been improved had the actors, particularly Thomas, been up to it. What were once twinkles of wickedness and almost attractive roguish behaviour has morphed into something far less amusing and far more sleepy and strained. It isn’t surprising to learn that this was one of Thomas’ final leading performances, and meanwhile, whilst his unhappy marriage might be convincing, the idea of Leslie Phillips’ character being entirely irresistible to all four women is perhaps the only truly laughable part of the film.

Harsh? Well, perhaps. Watch it to get lost in quintessential British ‘rumpy-pumpy’ slapstick humour, if you love Carry On films, or have similar taste in cinema to the most stereotypical of grandpas (but for the love of god, don’t actually watch it with your grandpa. Far too much tits and arse. Speaking of which, perhaps that’s the best reason of all to give it a go). I personally, as a happenin’ and modern young thing, just couldn’t get into it at all.

Perhaps I’m just too stuck in my ways.

Facebook

Google

Twitter

We hope you're enjoying BRWC. You should check us out on our social channels, subscribe to our newsletter, and tell your friends. BRWC is short for battleroyalewithcheese.