Wilfrid Hyde-White is one of those actors who is seemingly in at least a hundred films from the first half-century of sound cinema, and is best cast when he can be a bit of a scoundrel. Such is the case with 1960’s Two-Way Stretch, in which he plays the criminal mastermind whose last exploit put Peter Sellers, David Lodge and Bernard Cribbins behind bars.
Now he has returned as a visitor to the prison in which those three are incarcerated, and in the guise of being the priest of their former parish. This ruse is because he needs the assistance of the lads with a heist, so long as they are able to sneak out of the prison for the day and return without being noticed that night. By doing so, they will have the airtight alibi they didn’t for the crime which put them there.
Things would have been so much easier for everybody if the guard played by George Woodbridge hadn’t retired. This very affable man knocks on the door of the trio’s cell before entering. He even takes their cat, Strangeways, outside each day to get some air. Anglophiles might recognize that as the name of a prison in Manchester.
The lads are so appreciative of him that they even give him a pocket watch as a going away present. What Woodbridge doesn’t know, but soon realizes, is the true owner of that timepiece is the prison’s exceptionally liberal governor, please by Maurice Denham.
While the prisoners are obviously taking advantage of Denham’s trusting nature and lax security, I like to think they also feel some measure of goodwill towards the man. Even if they are covertly (and inexplicably) growing tobacco plants in the garden, they do seem to be doing a good job with the plants which don’t have an ulterior purpose. The warden takes particular pride in a giant squash he hopes to enter into that deeply British institution of the large vegetable show. There is some humor surrounding that which didn’t altogether succeed for me, and which I am guessing has to do with both its shape and size, and for the same reason an eggplant is often used as an emoji.
A great deal of other humor in the film is successful. I especially liked a moment when Irene Handl’s massive handbag collapses while waiting to visit a prisoner, pouring a great quantity of tools out on the floor, all of which would be appropriate for a prison break. She, to a guard: “What’s the matter with you? Haven’t you seen a home perm kit before?” There’s a great visual gag shortly after that, where Liz Frasier adjusts a garter, distracting a guard while the visitors all throw contraband over the divider. She is Sellers’s long-suffering girlfriend, and at one point says of the repeated delays to their pending nuptials: “I suppose I’ll have to give myself a do-it-yourself honeymoon kit.” I’m not sure I know what she means, but I like to think about what I think she means, if you know what I mean.
A radical change will occur across the prison when Woodbridge’s replacement arrive. Lionel Jeffries is the cruel and draconian Crout, and there is some symbolism in that name which becomes obvious when it is said aloud. He is notorious throughout her majesty’s prison network. He is kind of kind who makes somebody breaking rocks in a quarry take their rock back to get a bigger one. He’ll issue contradictory commands, such as “Silence when you’re talking to me!” If this wasn’t a comedy, he wouldn’t be genuinely terrifying.
Speaking of which, there is a moment in the movie where I was waiting for the outcome to get a better idea the tone of the humor, which would determine the potential outcomes. There is a large explosion in the quarry, and Jeffries was in awfully close proximity to the blast. There are really possibilities here: either he will be dead or he will appear all disheveled and blackened with soot, as if this was a live-action cartoon. I think the most concise way I describe the picture is it opts for the latter, and I felt it was all the better for it.
Saying anything more about Two-Way Stretch would only ruin surprises for the curious. It is a consistently, though mildly, humorous film which never descends into farce. The heist is novel without being excessively convoluted (that said, elements of it beggar belief). It is thoroughly enjoyable and nearly as much fun as Hyde-White’s faux priest appears to be having.
Dir: Robert Day
Starring Peter Sellers, David Lodge, Bernard Cribbins, Wilfred Hyde-White
Watched on Kino Lorber blu-ray