An unhappy clown, Tony Hancock once claimed that "The only happiness I could achieve is to perfect the talent I have, however small it may be. If the time came when I found out that I had come to the end of what I could develop out of my own ability, I wouldn't want to do it anymore. " He had reached that stage by 1968, when he died, alone and miserable, in a Sydney hotel room; but by then he'd already established himself as one of Britain's most gifted and beloved comedians-so popular that, at the height of his fame, publicans and shopkeepers protested to the BBC because their businesses were empty while Hancock's Half Hour went to air. First broadcast in June 1961, "The Blood Donor" was one of his most acclaimed TV appearances: a showcase for the neurotic, self-obsessed character he perfected-British masculinity at its most innately conservative. Intending to give blood "so that others might live", he soon finds his public spirit waning once the possibility of physical discomfort sets in. ("A pint? Why that's very nearly an armful!") As if that wasn't enough the tape also includes "The Missing Page"-in which Hancock embarks on a desperate bid to solve a whodunnit entitled "Lady, Don't Fall Backwards"-and the brilliant spoof of Sidney Lumet's 1957 courtroom drama, Twelve Angry Men, where Sid and Hancock spin out jury duty to make the most of their 30 bob a day. The writing-by Ray Galton and Alan Simpson-is peerless, and Hancock's own performances are extraordinary, investing this pompous, petty little man with a real sympathy and humour. All three episodes are genuine classics. [+]

Second in the series of comedy mysteries based on Agatha Christie's books. Again a long way from the written piece but still enjoyable with whole cast on top form.

After a decade on radio in The Goons, 1959's I'm All Right Jack set Peter Sellers on the road to international stardom. Sellers played both Sir John Kennaway, and unforgettably, the Bolshy trade union leader Fred Kite (he would go on to take three roles in Dr Strangelove and featured endless disguises in The Pink Panther in 1963) series. The result is laugh-out-loud comedy with a satiric edge, lampooning the then burning issue of industrial relations. Bertram Tracepurcel's (Dennis Price) plans to make a fortune from a missile contract, a scheme which involves manipulating his innocent nephew Stanley Windrush (Ian Carmichael) into acting as the catalyst in an escalating labour dispute, from which the socialist Mr Kite is only too keen to make capital. Management and labour both have their self-serving hypocrisy dissected in this ingenious comedy, actually a sequel to the military comedy Private's Progress (1956), but which stands independent of the earlier film. Both films were made by the brothers John and Roy Boulting, director and producer of such British classics as Brighton Rock (1947), Seven Days to Noon (1950), Carlton-Browne of the F. O. (1959) and Heaven's Above (1963). The superb cast of I'm All Right Jack also features Richard Attenborough, John Le Mesurier, Margaret Rutherford and Terry Thomas. -Gary S. [+]

For anyone who travels the congested roads of Britain these days the utterly delightful Genevieve will provoke a wistful, nostalgic sigh of regret for times gone by when there were no motorways, traffic jams were almost non-existent and friendly police motorcyclists riding classic Nortons (without helmets) cheerfully let people driving vintage cars race each other along country lanes. Even in 1953, Henry Cornelius' gentle comedy must have seemed pleasingly old-fashioned, concerned as it is with the antics of two obsessive enthusiasts on the annual London to Brighton classic car rally. The principal quartet could hardly be bettered: though John Gregson is something of a cold fish as Genevieve's proud owner, the radiant warmth of Dinah Sheridan as his long-suffering wife more than compensates. Kenneth More is ideally cast in the role of boastful rival enthusiast and Kay Kendall has possibly the best comic moment of all when she astonishes everyone with her drunken trumpet playing. Cornelius also directed Ealing's Passport to Pimlico, so his sure eye for gently mocking and celebrating British eccentricities is never in doubt. The screenplay by (American writer) William Rose now seems like an elegy to a way of life long disappeared: the pivotal moment when Gregson stops to humour a passing old buffer about his love of classic cars comes from a vanished era of politeness before road rage; as does the priceless exchange between hotel owner Joyce Grenfell and her aged resident: "No one's ever complained before", says the mystified Grenfell after Gregson and Sheridan moan about the facilities, "Are they Americans?" asks the old lady, unable to conceive that anyone British could say such things. Genevieve is both a wonderful period comedy and a nostalgic portrait of England the way it used to be. On the DVD: the "Special Edition" version of Genevieve has a decent new documentary with reminiscences from Dinah Sheridan (still radiant), the director of photography and the film's editor, who talk about the challenges of filming on location. Most treasurable of all, though, is legendary harmonica player Larry Adler, who remembers his distinctive score with much fondness and is not at all embittered by his Hollywood blacklisting, which meant he was denied an Academy Award nomination. There's also a short piece on some of the locations used (which for economic reasons were mostly in the lanes around Pinewood studios), cast biographies and a gallery of stills. [+]