text: This film, though ostensibly a comedy, is deadly serious. Its subject is Imperialism (with a capital I): how Britain, foolishly, humiliatingly, tries to convince itself that it's still a great power after World War II. At home, the Empire is run by amiable dolts, benevolent Tories who are so in-bred that they can't distinguish close relatives; the Offices of Government consist of long forgotten archives (a dig at Orwellian paranoia?), inhabited by indolent rats, and ante-rooms wherein lounge bored synacures, reading popular novels.<br /><br />Abroad, Britain clings to the old pomp; but pomp out of context looks threadbare and silly, especially when its embodied in bumbling twits. Carlton-Browne is an unsentimental picture of decline, with none of the lachrymose rot that marred the supposedly anti-imperialist Jewel in the Crown.<br /><br />The film is also about the Cold War, bravely admitting that it's a dangerous farce, whose participants deserve mockery and contempt, not fear and respect. It's about how colonialism, characterised more by neglect than tyranny, destroys the colonies it deserts, robbing them of amenities, power, and, most importantly, self-respect, leaving them vulnerable to the machinations of dangerous cowboys.<br /><br />It's the seriousness, of course, that kills it. That's not to say that weighty subjects can't be treated in comedy - The Miracle Of Morgan's Creek, Dr. Strangelove and The Life Of Brian have all proved that. Indeed, one might suggest that serious themes should only be treated by comedy - it allows for a clearer-eyed view.<br /><br />The problem with Carlton-Browne is that every situation must have a significance beyond the merely comic, so that it becomes weighed down and unfunny. In the three films mentioned above, much of the comedy arises from character reaction to an extreme situation, not the extreme situation itself. Here, the script is too poor to sustain rich comic characterisations, and some of the greatest comedy talent ever assembled - Peter Sellers, Terry-Thomas, Raymond Huntley and John le Mesurier - are criminally wasted.<br /><br />Terry-Thomas, sublime so often, shows that he couldn't handle lead parts, and that he needed to play sneering, arrogant bounders, not brainless toffs. The music is made to carry much of the comedy, but its heavy irony only draws attention to the lack of hilarity on screen. (To be fair, unlike the majority of British comedies of the period, which were stagy and underproduced, the Boultings often try to make their points through film itself, by montage and composition) Only Huntley manages to raise genuine laughs, and that's by essaying a character he could have played in his sleep.<br /><br />None of the Boultings' farces have dated well - they're never thought through enough. Although Carlton-Browne revels in the decline of the Empire, it also seems to be anti-democratic and militaristic. I'm sure this wasn't intended, but these blunders are bound to happen if you allow worthy intentions to take precedence over comic intelligence and film form.