



Or, the put it another way, where there's a Will Hay, there's sure to be an entertaining variant upon a bumbling man who finds himself caught up in something larger and surely of dodgier legality than he is aware.
True to form, this time he is a dim, widowed solictor whose decaying premises happen to be above a bank which is the target of some American crooks who need him out of the way for a while. In an unexpected turn he is the father of a surprisingly pretty young woman who is being looked after at a relation's smart country house. How this fits into a plot which also includes, unusually for a Hay film, a chic London hotel is something for any viewer to savour as events build towards the high farce of Christmas Eve and a chimneyplace.
Here is a film in which, for the rest of us, presents arrive early: another succession of gags and proposterous but seemingly logical situations. Although Oh! Mr. Porter might be Hay's zenith, each of his films is diverting.