Richard Lester’s The Knack… And How to Get It might be the most 1960s film ever made — a freewheeling collage of libido, laddishness, and London bedsits. It’s part satire, part farce, part student revue, bursting with the confidence of a director who’s just discovered jump cuts and plans to use them all. At times it feels like Frank Spencer has wandered into a sketch from The Running, Jumping & Standing Still Film after a long night in Soho.
Lester, fresh from A Hard Day’s Night, directs with impish energy, and the film never pauses long enough to breathe. There’s wit and invention, but also a showy cleverness that wears thin. Michael Crawford’s accent veers in and out of RP like a car grinding its gears — distracting enough to break the spell. Still, there’s charm in the chaos.
The Knack… And How to Get It says little about love or sex, but perfectly captures the moment when British cinema thought being cheeky was the same as being modern.