The comedies of Henry Cornelius are reliable for their genuinely good humour prevalent in all the mass of actors, and in his films they tend to gather in cheerful crowds. The point here is that all the successes happen by accident, nothing is really intended, Basil Radford runs a pet shop, nothing else, while Hugh Griffith comes haunting him for his debts, and it looks rather bleak from the start in a dreary neighbourhood as well. But Basil has a daughter, and she is the sunshine of the film, inspiring everyone with exhilaration in spite of some accidents on the way. They buy a horse, and it's the wrong one, it runs away and is painted in irrecognizable colours, it is transported far away from London, and so it goes - the race is on, and ends in the same style, in total apparent defeat, which by accident is turned to the opposite, but not without some nerve-racking business on the way - Hugh Griffith himself has to be ultimately carried out on a stretcher. But the good humour conquers all, and it's a hell of a merry-go-round, risking never to stop in its whirling bolting in further mishaps, but ultimately you will end up as cheerful as any of all the hundreds of actors in the syndicate for racing an impossible horse.