Not Now, Comrade

Not Now, Comrade is a British comedy film that was released in 1976. Directed by Ray Cooney and Harold Snoad, it's an energetic farce that plunges into the realm of political satire, mishaps, and mistaken identities. With a star-studded cast including Lewis Fiander, Richard Marner, and Michael Sharvell-Martin, the film taps into the era's comedic sensibilities, coupled with the political tensions of the Cold War.

The story revolves around the chaotic events that unfold after a Russian ballet dancer decides to defect to the West. The lead character, played by Lewis Fiander, is an unsuspecting British businessman who suddenly finds himself in a whirlpool of trouble. Fiander's performance is a blend of charming wit and beset exasperation as he wrestles with the increasingly bizzare situations.

Richard Marner steps into the shoes of a Russian official, wonderfully overplaying the role with a stern-faced seriousness that lends itself to the absurdity of the situations at hand. His character is emblematic of the blustering Cold War era diplomats, and Marner captures the bureaucratic buffoonery of his role with comedic precision, juxtaposing the gravity of his official position with the slapstick follies he finds himself entangled in.

Michael Sharvell-Martin provides another layer of hilarity as one of the supporting characters, whose interactions with the leads and mistaken assumptions add fuel to the comedic fires that rage throughout the film. As is characteristic of British humor, his dry wit and perfect timing serve to rope the audience further into this delightful tangle of events.

One of the film’s key sources of comedy is the series of misunderstandings and secret liaisons, a hallmark of the farcical genre. It leverages the fear and paranoia surrounding the Cold War to set up situations that are at once ludicrous and laugh-out-loud funny. There is an underlying commentary on the absurdity of espionage and the lengths people would go to during a politically fueled era, wrapped in a light-hearted package that allows viewers to enjoy the laughter without delving too deep into the politics.

The plot takes the characters on a wild chase, featuring hidden rooms, scantily clad crossings, and a series of narrow escapes, each threaded with the blunt needle of British satire. The storyline moves at a brisk pace, with one comedic situation deftly leading into another, all interconnected by a tight weave of well-crafted storytelling that exemplifies the farce genre. Subplots involving love affairs, political defections, and cultural confusions crisscross throughout the movie, bringing a kaleidoscope of characters into collision with each other in the most humorous ways possible.

The setting of the movie is as much a character as the individuals themselves, contributing to the humor through props that malfunction and doors that lead to panels of chaos. The costume design, though reflective of the mid-70s styles, adds an extra dimension to the characters by accentuating their quirks and cultural origins. From the Russian fur hats to the ballet outfits, each article of clothing is chosen to amplify the comedy and set the scene for misunderstanding.

Some of the humor undoubtedly hinges on stereotypes of the era, playing up the contrast between the stiff-upper-lip British resolve and the intense, passionate Russian demeanor. Yet, these are handled with a knowing wink rather than malicious intent, inviting the audience to laugh with the characters rather than at them.

The film, scripted with a clear affection for the stage, can be seen as a testament to the theatrical origins of its creators. Ray Cooney, who co-directed and co-authored the script, is famed for his work in theatre, and this shines through in the movie's structure and execution. The comic timings, the double entendres, and the convoluted plot twists pay homage to a theatrical tradition that thrives on live reactions, even though they are now captured on film for posterity.

Despite its fast pace and quick-fire gags, Not Now, Comrade doesn't shy away from taking a breath when needed, allowing its audience to digest the rapid succession of events before plunging back into the comic fray. Moments of apparent normalcy are presented only to be shattered by the next wave of ludicrous turns and delightful character entries.

Not Now, Comrade is a product of its time, embodying the comedic chops that defined the era's British cinema. It's an escapist romp through Cold War politics, where the audience is invited to forget the looming dread of East-West relations and instead partake in the madness of a world where misunderstanding and bedlam lead not to conflict, but to laughter. While the film may evoke nostalgia in those familiar with the period, it remains accessible to any lover of classic farce, a genre steeped in a tradition of turning our shared follies into a universal joke.