A long-time must watch  in the Baxter house of my teenage years, the film ‘Two Way Stretch’ –  released in 1960  –  is still a favourite of mine all these years later.  The three main characters are petty thieves who share a cell in Huntleigh Prison, namely Dodger Lane played by Peter Sellers, Jelly Knight, performed by the ever-reliable David Lodge and Lennie ‘The Dip’ Price, handled beautifully by Bernard Cribbins, in his first major film role incidentally.

You’ve been a severe disappointment to me and your Father. You’ve been in here over two years and not once have you tried to escape…

 The three have a very comfy existence whilst banged up, with milk, bread and newspapers delivered daily via a bit of rope, through a window in their cell from an outside delivery man. 

Oh yeah, and they  have a cat called Strangeways.

Close the window mate, there’s a bit of a George Raft coming in…

On the surface it’s a knock about,  light-hearted comedy caper,
but on closer inspection, it’s a bit deeper than that, containing a real saucy line or two –  the governor’s marrow scene for example which seems to have bypassed the board of censors, going by its U Certificate –  and some real quality acting on show, which when you look at the cast assembled for the film, is hardly a surprise. 

Basket weaving? I’ll get you baskets weaving!

The cream of the British character actors are in the line-up, including Lionel Jefferies, Beryl Reid, Irene Handl, Wilfrid Hyde-Whyte, Arthur Mullard,  Liz Fraser, Warren Mithcell, Mario Fabrizi, Johnny Vyvyan  and Maurice Denham, who all put on a master class, with a fine script from the pens of John Warren, Len Heath and Alan Hackney.

Cor, the bottom’s dropped right out of Colonial Cocoa. When you knock off any money, lads, never put it on the Stock Exchange; I’ll tell you that for nothing

Coming up to the end of their three-year prison sentence, they are visited by an old con man comrade of theirs, by the name of ‘Soapy Stevens’ (Hyde Whyte) who appears in the guise of being their local vicar.  He tells Dodger of a plan for them to escape from prison on the eve of their release, to do a  jewel snatch of £2 million pounds worth of diamonds owned by a Maharaja, which are being delivered to an ancient marriage weighing in ceremony, under the guard of the army.

The important thing is, every now and again, they bung this geezer on the scales and they weigh him.

After the robbery, they are then to get to back into the prison, and  return to their cells by the next morning, thus being seen to have the perfect alibi.

Don’t panic! Just remember what the poet said: ‘If you can keep your heads when all about you are doing their nuts, you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.

The fly in this ointment of this carefully schemed plan, is the sudden arrival of chief prison officer Sidney  ‘Sour’ Crout (Jefferies) who knows the three of them and Soapy, from various previous prisons, and smells they are up to something, but he can’t put his finger on what exactly?

Silence when you’re talking to me!

But, despite his best efforts to thwart whatever they are up to, the three manage to escape and with help on the outside from Lennie’s mum (Handl) and Dodger’s girlfriend Ethel (Fraser.) 

They steal the gems from under the nose of the army and our three heroes are then delivered back into the prison via a refuse lorry. They hide the gems in the prison governor’s (Denham) safe (where else?) and then clamber back into their cell beds, until they are released later that same day.

Oh Dodger, dear, it’s lovely to see you again. I do hope everything goes all right. We’ll have a lovely honeymoon.

Marvellous; you in Holloway, him in Dartmoor.

All right. I suppose I shall have to get myself a do-it-yourself honeymoon kit.

Whilst saying goodbye to the governor on their release day, they secure the gems from his safe and hide them within their luggage.
Only, with crime not allowed to pay on screen in 1960, the gems are lost whist on the train home, and we see them being dropped into a mail net, attended to by two railway mail men, who can’t believe their eyes when the diamonds, start to trickle  from a sack at their feet.

Come in Chief, it’s not locked

‘Soapy’ gets his collar felt by  ‘Sour Crout,’ but Dodger, Lennie and Jelly pursue the gems right back there to rightful owner, the Maharaja, and are last seen in disguise, working out how to get their hands on the gems again, whilst attending the weighing in ceremony.

The film premiered in February 1960 and went on to be the fourth highest grossing film in the UK that year.

Despite the heavily London slang laden script,  The New York Times loved the film –  ‘The script by John Warren and Len Heath follows a straight line and is clever and full of good Cockney wit. Robert Day’s direction is lively, in the vein of civilised farce, and the performances are delicious, right down the line. Mr. Sellers is still on the rise.’

Coupled with a fine theme tune from Ken Jones, I suppose I’d describe Two Way Stretch as an Ealing classic comedy meets the TV show Porridge, and two better comedy parents it is hard to think of.

 

The Mumper of SE5

Read The Mumper’s other weekly musings on ‘The Speakeasy’ blog page

 

 

 

 

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