I happened to catch this movie one late night over Xmas on BBC 1, and boy do I wish I hadn't. Actually, I shouldn't be cruel. My mate and I stayed up watching it, and we've had fun taking the p*** out of it since then. This film desperately tries to go for political correctness, but it was filmed in 1972, and they were crap at being PC back then. For instance, one of the main character's daughters gets a flat above a black couple from Jamaica, and madcap hilarity ensues when Daddy gets the wrong flat and thinks his daughter is living with a black Jamaican, whose father was imprisoned for cannabis trafficking--since, ya know, English girls in 1972 weren't supposed to date non-white, non-English heathens (even though many did, i'm sure). Actually, that wasn't the most offensive thing about the film--what really got me was how camp the dad was. Patrick Cargill minces all over this film, and even has a scene in a bed with a St. Bernard--bestiality, anybody? The worst problem, though, is that the film can't make up its mind on where to go. At first you think it's about Daddy's struggles being a single parent, then you think it's about his daughters striking off on their own, then you think it's about divorce and remarrying, then it's about racial tensions, then it's over. Although the opening is pretty kick ass, with a giant party in Daddy's house that wakes him up. At first we were hoping the party would lead to some boobs onscreen, but alas, no boobies are to be seen in this film. If you come across this movie, change the channel. If you own the master copies, burn them.
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