What I didn’t like about this film:

Yes, I am breaking with tradition: this is not going to be the usual type of blog post format I use for film reviews on Dustedoff. For the simple reason that this travesty of a film doesn’t deserve that much time and effort.

So, what I didn’t like:

The mockery they’ve made of a Wodehouse story. Writers Joseph Hoffman and Stephen Gross, and director Arthur Greville Collins, give credit to Wodehouse but all that remains in the film that is even vaguely connected to Wodehouse and his style are the two main characters: Bertie Wooster (David Niven) and his gentleman’s gentleman, Jeeves (Arthur Treacher). Nothing else, not the elements of the story, not the language, not the story, is anything like the Jeeves-and-Wooster stories.

The characters are insipid. Wooster isn’t a chump; Jeeves is. In fact, Jeeves is such a moron, he doesn’t even realize he’s literally on the edge of something big. He is distinguished only by that stiff upper lip; no brilliant brains, no coming up with genius schemes to haul the young master out of the mulligatawny. In fact, when Jeeves eventually does come to Bertie’s help, it’s with fists flying. It’s Jeeves’s fighting skills, not his brainpower, that comes in use here.

The other characters, too, are dull and boring. Not a single flat-footed village policeman falling off his bicycle; not a single pair (let alone the usual three or four) of star-crossed lovers who go through bouts of jealousy, suspicion, disapproving parents, etc. No bossy aunts. No newt-loving, orange juice-guzzling, spineless nincompoops. No silly females who think stars are God’s daisy chains. Not a single interesting, memorable, funny character.

The utterly flat plot. A mysterious woman named Margerie Lowman (Virginia Field) barges into Bertie’s home one night; she is being pursued by two men, who continue to watch from the sidewalk. She pretends to know Bertie’s (non-existent!) brother, and on that pretext, stays part of the night—leaving in the wee hours of the morning through the back door. Bertie, in love with her already (yes, that’s believably Bertie, I will admit), follows along with Jeeves, and finds himself in a most unfunny (though not especially dangerous) plot involving stolen plans of some sort.

Lame. When Wodehouse weaves a criminal plot into his stories (and he does that very often), it’s always very skilfully done. It’s always fabulously convoluted, there are invariably sudden twists and turns that throw everything out of whack, and the object being pursued is never anything as mundane as a plan. Diamond necklaces, priceless statues, incendiary memoirs, a prize pig: those are the things people steal in a Wodehouse novel.

The racist stereotyping. Halfway to the country inn to which they’re following Margerie Lowman, Jeeves and Wooster give a lift to an African-American saxophonist (Willy Best). He bumbles, he gapes, he plays his sax, he tumbles about. He is the stereotypical gollywog brought to life, and made me most uncomfortable.

The slapstick. The climactic scene, while not exactly the pie-in-the-face type of lots of other comedies of that era, is still pretty slapstick. Not quite the Wodehousian style.

Bertie falls in love and is all set to get married. This is serious stuff. Or, at the other extreme, it’s juvenile humour. What it is not is Wodehouse.

So, be warned. I have watched several Wodehouse-inspired old films (and some not so very old ones) over the years and have come to the conclusion that none of the old film-makers really did any justice to the magic that was Wodehouse. They used his name, they used his famous characters, they banked on his ability to amuse people—and then they went their own way with what they thought would amuse audiences.

Possibly—just possibly, if you’re unfamiliar with Wodehouse and you’re easily pleased—you might not find this one utterly irritating, or at least awfully tedious. If you are a Wodehouse fan, though, I’d suggest you give this one a miss.

What I liked:

David Niven. Not because he makes for a good Bertie (because this Bertie isn’t really Bertie), but because he’s Niven. A very good actor, and always watchable.

(If you do want to watch Thank You, Jeeves—don’t say you weren’t warned—there’s a print here, on YouTube).