PG Wodehouse is one of my top favourite writers. I’ve read most of his books, and I’ve explored some of his intersections with cinema: the films he was involved in, and the films that were based on his books. Of the latter, I’ve realized again and again, there seem to be very few that do anything close to justice to Wodehouse’s inimitable blend of humour. Some of the shorter TV films (like Heavy Weather, starring Peter O’Toole as the eccentric Lord Emsworth) or TV series like Jeeves and Bertie are good (though Jeeves and Bertie, after a few good episodes, went off the rails).

But now and then I come across a film that has nothing to do with Wodehouse, but seems somewhat like a homage. With the same light-hearted charm of the master, the same frothy humour that never fails to appeal to me.

As in Spring in Park Lane. 

The film begins with Judy Howard (Anna Neagle) ringing the doorbell of her home in London, only to have the door opened by a complete stranger (Michael Wilding). Judy is surprised, and the conversation that ensues has both her and the man quite baffled. It’s only with a little perseverance, and some help from the butler Perkins (GH Mulcaster), who comes rushing up from below stairs, for the fog to clear. This man, Richard, is the new footman.

Judy is surprised; Richard is quite obviously not the sort of person who fits her idea of the average footman. Her suspicions about this mysterious, obviously well-educated footman (who was wearing an Eton tie the first time she met him) increase with every passing hour. Richard, for instance, seems immensely knowledgeable about art. Can play the piano beautifully. And when the sniffy cook-cum-housekeeper Mrs O’Malley (Josephine Fitzgerald) barges in, he can even pretend, without missing a beat, to have just been checking the piano to see if it needed tuning.

Judy is the niece and secretary of Joshua Howard (Tom  Walls), a very wealthy businessman who is currently away in South Africa but is expected back soon. Judy and her mother Mildred (Marjorie Fielding) live with Joshua and they’re a close, loving family.

While Joshua is away, Judy handles work for him, including his deep interest in art. Joshua collects fine art, and has a grand picture gallery at home. To add to that, he’s arranged to buy, from a man named Francis Bacon aka ‘Streaky’ Bacon (Nigel Patrick) a painting by an Italian master Joshua has long admired.

Joshua doesn’t know it, but Streaky is a con-man. We are shown a glimpse of him collecting the forged artwork from a forger, then going in a car with a friend to Joshua’s home with the painting. Here, shown in to Judy’s office, Streaky gives her the painting and demands from her the payment of £2,000, which was what he had agreed upon with Joshua.

Judy has a look at the painting, and is a little undecided; she summons Richard, who immediately disses it as a fake. Streaky tries to protest, and to be indignant about this slight; but Richard is adamant. It’s a forgery. Judy, by now on firm ground (Richard is so confident, one can’t help but believe him), agrees with Richard. She refuses to give Streaky any money, and Streaky, grumbling, storms out of the house.

Richard steps out to see Streaky get into the waiting car, and has the presence of mind to make a note of the car’s number.

Other things now happen. One of Judy’s suitors makes an entry. This is Basil Maitland (Peter Graves), the famous film star, who insists that he be called ‘Bay-sill’, in the American style, rather than ‘Ba-sill’, as the British would pronounce it. Basil is hugely popular, and when he arrives to take Judy out on a date, it’s with droves of eager female fans crowding the doorstep to get Basil’s autograph.

Basil, though, is in love with Judy, and on the pretext of seeing Joshua Howard’s picture gallery before they go out, tries to get fresh with Judy. Judy is only half-willing; she seems to be still uncertain about her own feelings for Basil.

Richard, who’s holding on to Basil’s coat and Judy’s cloak all this while, cannot take it anymore and breaks up the canoodling by turning the lights on and off and on again and off again… in quick succession. This puts Basil off his stride, and a flustered Judy insists they get going.

But Basil, as Richard is soon to find out, is not Judy’s only suitor. There’s another, lurking in the wings. This man, Judy’s mother Mildred tells her brother Joshua when he returns from South Africa, should be invited along with Basil for dinner, so that the issue may be forced. Judy should choose one of her suitors and get married.

The man in question is a penurious nobleman, George (Nicholas Phipps), the Marquess of Borechester.

The scene shifts briefly to the country seat of the marquess, where we get a glimpse of just how impoverished the family is. George’s mother, Lady Borechester (Catherine Paul) is pottering about in the kitchen, and George comes in with a basketful of very limp lettuces: he’s been trying to grow them, with little success. There’s a brief conversation about the squatters who are waiting to enter the castle once the drawbridge has been let out (and yes, that should be done, says George generously; after all, the Borechesters are squatters too).

There is also a brief mention of George’s younger brother Richard, who has been missing these past ten days. George has hired a private detective to find the missing man.

A young aristocrat, missing? Named Richard?

Could it be…?

And Richard, the footman in Joshua Howard’s home, suddenly finds himself called upon to wait at table at a dinner where one of the two guests of honour is a very familiar face.

Why is Richard—obviously no footman to start with—working here at Joshua Howard’s? As Judy comments, while speculating about his identity and his need to keep it hidden, is it thanks to “vice, crime, or just poverty”?

Spring in Park Lane was Britain’s most popular film of 1948, and remains the most popular entirely British-made film (in terms of audience attendance) ever. The reason isn’t hard to see: it’s a delightfully escapist film, fun and frothy and charming.

What I liked about this film:

The somewhat Wodehousian tone to it. True, it isn’t as convoluted and as humorous as a Wodehouse novel would be, but there are elements—the noble man masquerading as a footman;the conman; the very nature of the romance (sweet, charming, often amusing, not terribly emotional or even sensual) that reminded me of Wodehouse.

The humour is more contained, and lies in the details: an expression here, a dialogue there, a small twist in a plot. The only somewhat longish scene that I found quite funny is when Lord Borechester, sitting over his port with the other men, begins to tell them a joke… and goes on and on and on, never getting to the point.

Then, there’s the general prettiness of it. Wilding is handsome, Anna Neagle is pretty (and her clothes are lovely). Plus, there are two wonderful sequences, one a dream sequence and the other a dance at the Lyceum, where the two of them showcase their dancing. How very, very good they are: like Fred and Ginger, though Wilding’s far better-looking than Astaire.  

What I didn’t like:

The hurried winding up of it all in the last few minutes of the film. I would have preferred a more leisurely building up and explanation of how Richard came to be in the position he was in, and how it then gets resolved. But here, at the fag end of the film, director Herbert Wilcox seems to suddenly want to wrap it all up and get it over and done with. Too quick, as far as I am concerned.

Still, despite all that, a delightful and entertaining little film. I enjoyed this one a lot.