The Amorous Milkman (1973)

Being a glutton for punishment, I decided to sit through another seventies sex comedy the other weekend.  This time it was The Amorous Milkman (1973), a non-series sex comedy that nonetheless followed the established template of using a tradesman of some sort as the focus of a series of sexploits linked to their job.  Now, on paper, a milkman, with his early morning rounds, delivering his creamy bottled white stuff to young housewives, (see how easy it is to start whipping up the innuendo?), would provide ideal fodder for this sort of thing.  Well, perhaps on paper it did, the film being an adaptation of a novel of the same name.  A novel by actor Derren Nesbitt, who also acts as director, producer and writer of the film.  That's right, the same Derren Nesbitt who played the Gestapo officer in Where Eagles Dare.  While Nesbitt was an effective portrayer of crooks, hardmen and occasional policemen, The Amorous Milkman indicates that he was no auteur when it came to film making.  The pace is badly off, the gags ill-timed and their delivery frequently stilted.  Curiously, the whole thing has the feel of being something from the fag end of an era: peddling tired tropes that had long been played out while the cast joylessly go through the motions.  Yet, in reality, it comes from relatively early in the sex comedy cycle, slightly pre-dating Confessions of a Window Cleaner, the picture that was to firmly establish sex films as both popular entertainment and box office earners.

Despite adhering to pretty much the same formula as the Confessions series - the parade of familiar British acting and comedy faces, including Diana Dors, Bill Fraser, Alan Lake, Fred Emney and even Ray Barrett, the inevitable sex romps gone awry, the various slapstick sight gaga - in The Amorous Milkman none of it hits the mark.  The key differences between Confessions of a Window Cleaner and Amorous Milkman lies in the fact that the former boasts both an experienced director, in the form off Val Guest and a charismatic star in Robin Askwith.  Guest moves things along at a decent pace and maintains an even tone of broad and bawdy comedy throughout the film.  Nesbitt, in Amorous Milkman, seems unable to do this, with a violent turn toward the film's end, with the titular protagonist getting beaten up by a local gangster's thugs, jarring badly with the previous attempts at levity.  His lead actor, Brendan Price, is also problematic.  Price had already starred in one sex comedy - Secrets of a Door-to-Door Salesman - prior to this role.  In neither film did he convince as a would be lothario.  It isn't that Price is a bad actor - he subsequently enjoyed a successful career on stage and TV - but he simply unsuited to this sort of role, lacking the charisma and comic timing required to pull it off.  Askwith, by comparison, seemed born to play these roles, with his gawky personality, adeptness and physical comedy and comic timing.  Whereas Price constantly underplays his character, thereby undermining potentially comic scenes and allowing gags to fall flat, Askwith always seems to know when to overplay for full comic effect.

Like many films of its era, some plot developments in The Amorous Milkman seem disconcerting to contemporary audiences, most particularly when Price is (falsely) accused of sexual assault.  It isn't just that, from a modern perspective, this seems a very dark route to go down, but also the fact that it is treated as a joke and accompanied by various rape 'gags'.  Perhaps with a  defter touch, this could have been played for black comedy, but Nesbitt as both writer and director simply seems o lack the skill and experience to achieve this.  But not everything about the film is bad.  Its depiction of early seventies Britain is unflinching in its eye for the details of just how dreary it could be, particularly for young single men in low paid jobs.  The utter squalour of Price's bedsit (actually a very accurate depiction of such dwellings) contrasts sharply with the bright and shining middle class kitchens of the likes of Diana Dors.  Sadly, though, The Amorous Milkman is, overall, a something of a depressing watch, with none of the individual scenes or performances especially memorable.  The whole thing feels a missed opportunity.