Wilt (1989, Dir. Michael Tuchner)

Synopsis:

Henry Wilt (Griff Rhys Jones) is unfulfilled in his job as a Liberal Studies lecturer at the local Technical college, where he teaches books such as Tess Of The D’Urbervilles to disinterested butchers apprentices, and unhappy in his marriage to overbearing and bossy, Eva (Allison Steadman), who he fantasizes about murdering. When what seems to be a body is discovered in a hole dug for the foundations of a new building on the Technical college’s campus and some of Wilt’s papers are found nearby, Inspector Flint (Mel Smith) suspects Wilt has murdered his wife; especially when it emerges that Eva has gone missing and Wilt has no idea where she might be.

There’s a great tendency to look back at the 1980’s as a great decade for British comedy, forgetting of course that, for every Blackadder, The Young Ones or Only Fools And Horses there was also a fair amount of dross. Double acts were still thought of as a good comedy premise, after the successes of Morecambe and Wise and The Two Ronnies, which meant we ended up being subjected to the likes of Little And Large and Cannon And Ball. However, the new breed of comedians coming through via either The Footlights Review or clubs such as The Comedy Store in London, managed to refresh this rather tired formula, and one of these was the duo of Griff Rhys Jones and Mel Smith, who first found fame as part of the Tv comedy show, Not The Nine O’Clock News, before following it up with their own show as a duo, Alas Smith and Jones. They were successful enough to warrant attempting to use their partnership in a number of films, starting with the massive flop and seriously unfunny Morons From Outer Space and continuing with this rather underrated adaptation of Tom Sharpe’s novel.

Tom Sharpe’s novels, which were modern versions of the sort of satire and farces written by Waugh and Wodehouse, only with coarser language and more vulgar subject matters were another 80s U.K. phenomena. They sold incredibly well throughout out the decade, before suddenly seeming deeply unfashionable come the 1990s. Certainly, the adaptation of two of his novels, Blott On The Landscape and Porterhouse Blue for tv in the early to mid 80s had something to do with this. This film, made by London Weekend Television and Rhys Jones and Smith’s own production company Talkback, but distributed by Rank in the U.K. And Samuel Goldwyn in the U.S. (where it was retitled The Misadventures Of Mr Wilt), came at a point a few years later when if anything the popularity of Sharpe’s work was already beginning to wane and it doesn’t help that it has the slight feel of a TV movie, but don’t let that put you off what is actually one of those rare things — a film that improves on its source material.

Firstly, the screenplay (co-written by David Renwick, who would later create One Foot In The Grave), makes the smart decision of delaying the reveal of what has actually happened to Eva, Wilt’s wife, allowing the audience to uncover the information almost at the same rate as Smith’s Inspector Flint, through a series of flashbacks, as more and more seemingly damning circumstantial evidence comes light about Wilt. The film also introduces Flint earlier in the story, presumably to give the duo more screen time together, but also to set up the idea of Flint as an arrogant buffoon and to give us more reason for his eventual persecution of Wilt (Wilt inadvertently foiling Flint’s drug bust is a nice addition, particularly Smith’s line: “I am the police, you gormless erection!”) as well making as his eventual downfall more satisfying and, of course, the mishap with Flint’s concealed microphone is paid off nicely later on. All these additions are vast improvements on Sharpe’s more linear telling of the story.

There are also number of other smaller changes particularly to the characters of Sally and Hugh West- Roper (called Sally and Gaskell Pringshelm in the novel) — here Sally is an old school friend of Eva’s, whereas in the novel the couple are hideous visiting Americans and Sally’s predatory lesbian behavior is far more overt and over-the-top, something the film wisely tones down and in doing so, makes the character of Eva less stupid and gullible as well. The other obvious addition is the sub plot about the Swatham strangler, which ends up being neatly, if slightly implausibly, resolved at the climax of the film. It does, however, create another reason why the police treat Wilt with such suspicion, as well as giving us an amusing payoff to Flint’s rivalry with the more successful but largely unseen Inspector Farmaloe.

However, the screenplay also lifts a great many of the wittier lines directly from the novel as well as adding a number of brilliant new one liners and moments. There’s also little doubt that the film’s central casting trio of Rhys Jones as Wilt, Smith as Flint and the always fabulous Alison Steadman, who manages to turn Eva from the book’s rather two dimensional, nagging wife into something far more human and sympathetic, are all perfect and couldn’t be a better fit for the characters. Smith in particular is fantastic and it’s a great shame that he died so comparatively young, as not only did he have a fantastic comic delivery, his hilarious hound dog face is just a joy to behold in this role. It’s also lovely to see a very youthful-looking Roger Allam (who is now much better known as Inspector Thursday in Morse prequel, Endevour) as Flint’s sergeant, as well as a host of other wonderful British actors, such as Roger Lloyd Pack, David Ryall and even a very young Gina McKee in supporting roles.

The score is an early one from Anne Dudley, who has gone on to become one of the most sought after British film and tv composers with scores for the Full Monty, American History X, Les Miserables and the recent Poldark series, but at the time of this film’s release was better known as a member of the group Art Of Noise and as an arranger/orchestrator of some of the biggest pop hits of the day. The film gives her a lot moments to parody traditional, Bernard Herrmann-style thriller scoring, though sadly the opening theme (which uses the melody of “Love Hurts” — the song used for the closing credits), with its saxophone and DX7 accompaniment now sounds a little too much like that of a 80s British Tv sitcom.

There is, of course, very much an 80s British vibe to the whole thing, which will be familiar to anyone who lived through that decade, or those who have watched enough British Tv from that period. In fact, take away the comedic elements and you could easily be watching an Inspector Morse or Adam Dalgleish thriller (PD James’s mysteries were also all set in and around East Anglia) from around that time. In a way this is both a positive and a negative — it doesn’t feel as if a bigger budget or a more “cinematic” (as opposed to “televisual”) look would have enhanced the story in any way and it is, after all, a very British sort of comedy. On the other hand, I suspect British cinema audiences would have wondered whether this wouldn’t have been better suited to a one off tv film than something produced for the cinema and what American audiences would have made of it is anyone’s guess.

Despite this, and the occasional digs at the 80s obsession with aspirational living, this is a little gem of a comedy with a sharp script and excellent comedy performances. If you’ve never seen it or like me, had largely forgotten about it — then give it a watch. It certainly deserves more recognition than its been given over the years — a bit like Wilt, himself.