User reviews

This film is one of my favourites because fifty years ago I was a young projectionists in a small cinema in the East Midlands, England. My future wife, was also a projectionist there (this was just after World War II, and the men were still away in the forces) and was where we met. I later became a movie house manager for several years before leaving the business with the advent of TV. Although it was hilarious the film hit the nail on the head with many home truths. The projectionist and the cashier were always rivals and vied for positions of authority. I knew many projectionists who were fond of the bottle. The way the show was kept running in all adversities was also typical of real life in a small "flea pit". A great film of days that used to be ! Incidentally my wife and I celebrated our golden wedding two years ago, and we did our courting at the movies on our days off.

A delightful story of a young couple that inherit The Bijou -- a broken down movie theater -- and against their wishes make a go of it.

Virginia McKenna and Bill Travers play Jean and Matt -- the young couple.

I was familiar with Ms McKenna's work but Bill Travers was new to me.

He has a wonderful Laurence Olivier air about him and is very appealing as an actor. His only other film that I am at all familiar with was "Born Free."

I was half way through the film before I realized that Percy Quill the projectionist with a drinking problem was Peter Sellers. Even though he was about 32 when the film was released he plays a little old man -- and superbly.

The wonderful character actress Margaret Rutherford, who made a career out of playing Miss Marple, is absolutely enchanting as the somewhat dotty Mrs. Fazackalee.

Why are old, somewhat crazy men in British films always named Tom? For whatever reason, Bernard Mills as Old Tom is quite a piece of work. A tendency to take things a little to literally is what drives his character -- that and the fact he is pretty much nuts.

It seems like many British films from this period look very much like filmed plays -- which this movie very definitely did.

Unfortunately the print that I saw for this film was in nearly as bad a shape as the movies being shown at "The Bijou." A good reason for more and better film restoration -- even for the films that we do not always think of as classics.

It seems to me that in recent years most filmmakers believe that to hold a viewer's interest a film must be fast-paced, full of conflict, and in short "edgy". The British comedies from the this time are leisurely paced, and work extraordinarily well because they are full of wit, first-class acting, and not a small dose of irony. For me, "The Smallest Show on Earth" is a "sleeper". In the US I suspect it is lesser known than "The Mouse that Roared" and some of the wonderful Alec Guinness comedies; but I find its' gentility and droll humor to be wonderful! (I would also add that I think that it's a shame Peter Sellers - who has a marvelous supporting role as a doddering projectionist - is best known to moviegoers in the US from his Pink Panther movies, which I think were mostly a waste of his prodigious talents.)

'THE SMALLEST SHOW ON EARTH' may not have been exactly that since there were certainly smaller, but it was a case of a fictional small "electric theatre" (the once British way of differentiating a movie theatre from a legitimate theatre or 'music hall,' as they designated their version of the American vaudeville). This delightful British film is as heart warming and sometimes hilarious as the other reviewers here describe, but it is the wonderful interaction between the story, the sets, and the actors that balance the film and make it a classic. This 19th century 'kinema' was styled in the manner of the traditional British 'music hall' of live performers, but held early projection equipment (hence the double entendre about projectionist Peter Sellers' 'equipment.') Such asides will be over the heads of the kiddies, but the pleasant pacing and careful dialogue of the actors will please the adults for whom this comedy is intended.

The story of a young couple inheriting a cinema and finding that it is not quite the money-maker they imagined would have been prosaic were it not for the clever settings and the three fossils who maintained the old "Bijou" (French for 'jewel'). If it were ever a jewel, it had lost its luster as the years passed and patrons flocked to the newer nearby movie palace, the "Grand." Desperate to keep their jobs, the 'fossils' (veteran scene-stealers: Peter Sellers, Margaret Rutherford, and Bernard Miles) took pains to refresh the old place to please new owner Bill Travers, a too seldom used actor of mild presence but uniquely suited to this role. The character of the Bijou's "commissionaire" (doorman, janitor, and boiler keeper) Miles in the end tries too hard and creates the only jarring note in the film, which is otherwise tender and memorable. The device of having latter day elevated trains roar past the cinema was inspired and created some memorable scenes, as when the building shakes to the slow start up of the train, or when Bill Travers' character is almost rattled off the ladder as he attempts to relight the old roof sign. There are many wonderful sight gags and other fine bits that one will long remember.

For those who also like old theatres, it may be of interest to know that the exterior of the Bijou was actually a set created at the meeting of two existing elevated train bridges on Christchurch Ave. at the Kilburn LT station in London. The interior was also a set, but so well done that you would swear that you were in a real 19th century 'opera house.' The design is thought to be derived from the real Palace of Varieties at Camberwell. The movie palace with the pipe organ - "the Grand" - was actually the Gaumont Palace (later the Odeon, now Apollo) in Hammersmith, London. And the use of the fictional name of "Sloughborough" for the town is another little joke since it means 'low place or mire.' These details can be confirmed in the journal of the British "Cinema Theatre Association's" magazine "PICTURE HOUSE," No. 19, Winter 93-94, pages 37 and 38, (where there are photos in this and the previous issue) furnished to this reviewer courtesy of Mr. Brian J. Hall of England.

One reviewer said that the only flaw was that the story was too short and I must concur in that, and that is the only real flaw I can find in the film as well. There is a difficulty, however, in appreciating the quality of the film from the most common versions of the VHS-NTSC format videos now available. IMDB/Amazon lists two ASIN numbers of versions made by the same French Canadian firm, Madacy, which produced them in EP speed, rather than the usual SP speed that allows for quality. Since Amazon never indicates the speed of a tape, I cannot tell if their third variation produced by 'VCI Classics (American Prudential)' is also in this slow speed of poor quality. Not only is the image poor, but the sound is downright difficult to understand! Amazon's sister company, The Internet Movie Data Base, now lists two CD versions about to be released, and we can but hope that they were made from restored masters and are the pleasure that the original film is.

P.S.: Two years before the movie "Majestic" (starring Jim Carrey) debuted, the director wrote on the THEATRE HISTORICAL SOCIETY'S web site that he was searching for information about historic theatres for his forthcoming unnamed movie. This reviewer responded with information and said that the description of it he gave sounded something like "The Smallest Show on Earth." He responded that he was amazed that anyone remembered the 1956 British film, but that it was indeed an inspiration for his movie. Look closely at the lobby in "Majestic" and you will see it clearly resembles that in the 'Bijou,' even if the facades were much different. These films turned out very differently, but at least the architecture rewards lovers of theatres

Imagine inheriting an entire estate and finding it consists of a run-down fleapit cinema just under a railway line! That's exactly what happens to Matt and Jean Spencer (Bill Travers and Virginia McKenna)when they receive a letter from the solicitor dealing with a long-forgotten great-uncle's estate.

With the beautiful and bizarre Bijou cinema taking centre stage, and its three odd employees (the wonderful Margaret Rutherford as Mrs Fazackalee; Peter Sellers as drunken projectionist Quill; and Bernard Miles as daft doorman Old Tom) livening up the proceedings with their eccentricity, the stage is set for a British movie with a warm heart and a genuine love of the silver screen.

With Leslie Phillips as solicitor Robin, Francis de Wolff as the rival cinema owner Hardcastle, and Sid James as one of his trademark wideboy characters, this film is a treat from beginning to end. Of particular note is the scene where the three long-term Bijou workers watch silent films when the audience has gone home - magical!

Character actors never come as grand and as enigmatic as the late Peter Sellers (1925 - 1980) whose greatest mainstream movie achievement would have to be the now legendary Pink Panther series. During too, the radio days of the nineteen-fifties in The Goon Show, with the late Spike Milligan (1918 - 2002) and Sir Harry Secombe (1921 - 2001).

What was to be just one of four movies during 1957 by Peter Sellers, The Smallest Show on Earth here is his instalment in the persona of one not so young cinema projectionist Mr. Quill. By this time, he had already done the Ealing Studio classic The Ladykillers (1955), and this relatively small part in this 80-minute timepiece is of no exception.

This charming little fable, via British Lion Films Limited, finds that quite unexpectedly modern and middle class couple Jean (Virginia McKenna) and Matt's (Bill Travers; 1922 - 1994) lives are about to change. She the doting housewife and he the up and coming novelist, receiving good news, they have become soul heirs to Matt's late uncle's cinema, the Bijou, literally meaning small and fashionable. It is in this tiny tale, and being told in the past tense, that the trip to the north of England has these dreamy pair coming straight back down to earth with much complication and bewilderment abound.

They seem almost inseparable in their careers, having worked together in some eleven movies such as Born Free (1966), Ring of Bright Water (1969), The Barretts of Wimpole Street (1957) and The Belstone Fox (1973). With a tiny, blink and you'll miss him, bit part from one Sidney James (1913 - 1976) and fine co-starring from a very young and talented Leslie Phillips (B: 1924) as Robin, the mediator and solicitor Robin bringing a little sanity to the proceedings.

The Smallest Show on Earth is a petite story that draws the line between the cinemas of the classic silent movie era and its constant struggle to adapt, and the inevitable onslaught of mass commercialism of the cinemas that have now grown into franchisees and chains. It is also the advent of the television that is ironically the main competitor for this new wave of Cinema in this 1957 movie. The tide of technological advancement waits for no one, sadly for the Bijou, its days, its old and tired staff and apparatus, and its movies, are now part and parcel of glories past.

The coupling of the great and funny Margaret Rutherford (1892 - 1972) as the ticket and ice-cream seller, along with Bernard Miles (1907 - 1991) as Old Tom the ticket collector, with Peter Sellers is a fine and magnificent move, set against the seriousness of the couple from afar, these old nemeses with their differing standards set the humour and pace. Their comic bickering, nitpicking and constant, but harmless, backbiting toward one another are as sentimental and proud as is both their respect and fondness for this run down, clapped out old flea pit of a cinema, that all three have now become fully integrated, not with, but as the furniture.

This is a truly heart-warming story, of the old romantic bygone age of the silent screen, the people who have been there and the realisation of the changing times. It's in the eyes of this young couple that the story has most effect, their City way's clashing against rustic and nostalgia's past, and their slowing fondness and respect for the peoples who still remain.

The younger generation of filmgoers, used to the antiseptic cleanliness of the multiplexes, may not realise that "fleapits" like the Bijou in "The Smallest Show On Earth" did actually exist in post-war Britain. Starved of resources during the war and with restrictions on non-essential building in force until the mid fifties, many small cinemas were in a very sorry state with broken seats, threadbare carpets, antiquated projection equipment and even torn and patched screens.

It is against this background that this charming comedy is set with wonderfully eccentric characters played by Peter Sellers, Margaret Rutherford and Bernard Miles.

The principal character is, however, the Bijou itself. This was a set, the exterior having been temporarily constructed between two railway bridges in Kilburn, a London suburb. The rival cinema, the Grand, was, in fact, a real cinema - the Gaumont at Hammersmith, also a London suburb. If you look closely, it is possible to see that the new name is rather clumsily superimposed.

To someone brought up in the fifties, this film brings back fond memories. To the younger viewers it gives an intriguing glimpse into the past by showing a way of life gone forever.

Who hasn't seen a forlorn, forgotten little neighborhood theatre and fantasized about reopening it, and making it work? For Jean and Matt, though, who have no options after starting over in a strange city, it becomes a necessity. The hopeless crusade becomes the kind of poignant-yet-hilarious stuff that makes for an unforgettable film. Margaret Rutherford, Peter Sellers and Bernard Miles, as the former staff members recalled from retirement, have a magical scene together in the Bijou's darkened auditorium one night after closing time, recalling the old days with a silent film and the disused piano. Great stuff. I only wish the film was longer.

"The Smallest Show On Earth" is the kind of comedy they used to churn out in England with ferocious consistency; despite its charms not one to remember except for the presence of the greatest film comedian of the sound era just coming into his own.

That comedian is Peter Sellers, and "Smallest Show" gives him fourth billing as alcoholic projectionist Mr. Quill, one of three employees at a broken-down cinema in the dregs of England who faces unemployment when a young couple inherits the place with plans to sell out.

It's a small role, in a small film, but Sellers as Quill is very good, better in fact than he was earlier fare like "The Ladykillers" (great film, small part) and "The Naked Truth" (big part, lousy film). Here we see Sellers for the first time as the funnyman who can tug on your heartstrings, working your sympathies with just a furrowed eyebrow or shuffling of feet. From 1959 to 1965 he had as good a run in movies as any star ever did, and this 1957 effort served as springboard.

That's not so much of a reason to see "Smallest Show" for non-Sellers fans, so here's another: Sellers doesn't even deliver the best performance. The other two staffers, Bernard Miles as Old Tom the doorman and Margaret Rutherford (an Oscar winner a few years later) as Mrs. Fazackalee the ticket woman are every bit as good, while Bill Travers and Virginia McKenna as the young couple make for pleasant company. If not for the fact the jokes are weak, and the storyline thin, this would be a true winner, rather than just a mildly worthwhile Ealing Studios-wannabe relic.

The main joke in "Smallest Show" centers around the dilapidated state of the old theater, or "kinema", that the couple inherits. The projector threatens to fall apart whenever a train passes. The ceiling is festooned with cobwebs. Portraits of Theda Bara and Douglas Fairbanks Sr. line the walls, and the features on offer are ancient cowboy films starring "Drifting Slim Stanley, Deputy U.S. Marshall". It's at times a stirring tribute to the movie business in its infancy, especially one scene where Mrs. Fazackalee plays her house organ to the flickering light of an old silent. But it never gels as a story.

"I'm sure there's a business like show business, but somehow I don't think this is it," McKenna's Jean jokes when the couple first get an eyeful of the place. That's about as good a one-liner as this film manages, despite the presence of "Ladykillers" writer William Rose as a scripter here.

Director Basil Dearden makes sure we get plenty of cute scenes featuring Travers and McKenna struggling with the way things operate in their new place. The plot, what there is of it, centers around the couple's attempt to make a go at running the movie house, or at least making it look like they are, in order to persuade the owner of a rival theater to buy them out. The rival owner resorts to some shady tricks, but one never really has to worry overmuch how things turn out, as it falls together rather conveniently.

The charm's the thing, the only thing, in watching Travers' reaction when accepting a chicken for admission, or Quill and Fazackalee at each other's throats regarding their new bosses' spending priorities: "My equipment is more important than your rats," Quill shouts, showing off Sellers' ability to melt into a thick northern English old-man accent with the help of some clever makeup.

Unlike his earlier films, he really gives you a lump in the throat in this one, struggling with the bottle or skipping along a sidewalk after a good day at the box office, making you understand that the secret to Sellers was never just clever accents or physical pantomime but the preternatural empathy he brought to every part, beginning with this one.

Husband-and-wife team Bill Travers and Virginia McKenna play a newly married couple who inherit a dilapidated cinema (and its elderly, incompetent and equally dilapidated staff), and try to restore it to something like it's original glory. However they soon discover that it's not going to be as easy as perhaps they first thought. There is competition from a huge modern cinema just across the street, which is in need of a car-park. The site of the old "Bijou" would be just the thing.

This is a terrific comedy (written by Basil Dearden), and features Peter Sellers, Margaret Rutherford, Bernard Miles as the cinema staff, and Leslie Phillips as the Bijou owner's solicitor.

Any American, or indeed any youngster, watching this movie might be slightly bemused, and consider it all a bit implausible. I can tell them that it's not, and so can any Brit over a certain age. When this film was made, every town in the UK had a "flea-pit" (i.e. it's very own "Bijou"). In the town in which I was raised, it was called "The Select".

Events depicted in this movie happened at these cinemas on a regular basis. The films shown were usually as decrepit as the cinema itself. (In the case of the "Select" they were usually the awful B&W "horror" movies which no other theatre would show. If the film didn't break at least once, or a reel was put on the projector in time, and/or was not in the wrong order, you were there on a lucky night.) For all of us of the age, to re-watch this little memorial to the old flea-pit, is a real nostalgic blast from the past, and I defy any newcomers to the movie, not to warm to it, either from it's occasional pathos and/or it's hilarious comedy. So go on, take my advice, have a good scratch, and watch it. The film may be fiction, but what you see actually happened!

Watching once more a film I remember with such fondness it is sad to relate that although there still are warm and lovely moments there are rather cancelled out by harsher and more crude elements. First of all, the cast is unbalanced, Peter Sellers, still struggling to make the big time is brilliant but horrendously underused. Margaret Rutherford struggles a little, I guess because of her age, but is still a majestic force and Bernard Miles, who was often guilty of embarrassingly overacting, is great here. Unfortunately Bill Travers and particularly Virginia McKenna are dreadful. McKenna was suddenly a big star and her inclusion here must have more to do with box office than any idea that she could play the daft part. Travers is not as bad but take the two out ( they would marry the same year) and bring forward the three well able to deal with comedic roles and develop the role of Leslie Phillips, who is surprisingly good here, and all might have been so much better. As it is, as I say, there is still enough charm here, with the little cinema struggling against its big rival and the loveable trio more interested in movies than money and probably worth it just to watch Sellers in the projection room, but it could have been so much better without having to wince each time McKenna or Travers uttered their lines. Poor title too, The Smallest Show on Earth but probably not as bad as the US one Big Time Operators, which apart from anything else makes it hard to find on IMDb.

Attractive "Born Free" couple Virginia McKenna and Bill Travers (as Jean and Matt Spenser) inherit a creaky, but functional old movie theater. Since they are having financial problems, they decide to manage the cinema. Crowds appear, despite broken reels and other mishaps. The most obvious joke is watching Peter Sellers, made-up as an old projectionist, work while a train makes the theater shake. Luckily, the train only runs once. The audiences in the "Bijou" had more fun than you will.

**** The Smallest Show on Earth (4/9/57) Basil Dearden ~ Virginia McKenna, Bill Travers, Margaret Rutherford, Peter Sellers

I am happy to read all the kudos from other film buffs for this little gemstone of a movie. It will seem corny and boring to those brought up on Hollywood in the past 30 years but if they would open up their minds to dry humor and sweetness there is much to enjoy in 'The Smallest Show on Earth.' First off the cast are top-drawer English comedians that are now extinct, sadly. Margaret Rutherford, Bernard Miles and Peter Sellars crown the story with their three highly eccentric and touching portrayals of the old hands at The Bijou, better known as The Flea Pit, an old opera house turned "Kinema". Bernard Miles, especially, gives a highly subtle and often moving portrayal of an aging janitor who lives on for a new uniform. Nowadays he'd be tossed in a home to rot, suffering from "dementia" or some such thing the medical profession has created to niche people for more convenient disposal. But in the days of the making of this movie people like old Tom (Miles) were allowed to continue with their lives, dotty as could be, but happy and earning a living, happy with his cats and his new uniform.

The "straight" couple, the new owners of the Flea Pit, are wonderfully done by the very handsome and under-rated Bill Travers and his real-life wife Virginia McKenna. Travers had the timing sense of Cary Grant, and was much better looking into the bargain. At 6'6" tall he had an engagingly masculine yet vulnerable way about him. He and McKenna have some of the cornier lines and the jokiness can be a bit "eye-rolling" but aside from that period humor this movie is filled with a dry wit that has always been beyond the abilities of Hollywood screen-writers to pen.

There is one scene in particular that sticks in the mind. The three old hands are alone at night in the old theatre. A silent film is playing, Mrs Fazackalee (Rutherford) is at the tinny old piano in the orchestra pit, Old Tom (Miles) is sitting with his cat in the front row. Mr Quill (Sellars) is in the control booth. Only Sellars speaks briefly to the new owners as they arrive upon the scene, lost in the "old days" of the kinema. Just the sight of Rutherford at the piano improvising music to the old love story on the screen, and Miles and his cat in the front row is enough to evoke tears. Longing for lost innocence I suppose.

This movie is loaded with a high humor, no vulgarity, sex or profanity comes into it. A very memorable little film that is long overdue for release on DVD. I was lucky enough to find a good quality VHS copy at Facets in Chicago in case anyone's had trouble rounding up a copy. An excellent miniature masterpiece portraying a more innocent and lovely period of time in our benighted 20th century.

The Smallest Show On Earth finds reel and real life married couple Bill Travers and Virginia McKenna thinking they've gotten a windfall of an inheritance from a grand uncle that Travers can barely remember. It's a small movie theater, but it's terribly run down. In fact it also has three aged employees Peter Sellers the projectionist, Margaret Rutherford the ticket seller and Bernard Lee the ticket taker. In fact what to do, but sell the place. However rival cinema owner Francis DeWolff is offering chump change for the place.

But if we can put the thing into some kind of shape the old Bijou Theater than maybe we can get something for our money. So Travers and McKenna proceed to do just that and Travers proceeds to show he's got a Bill Veeck like sense of promotion and innovation.

In fact watching The Smallest Show On Earth reminded me of Bill Veeck's memoirs Veeck As In Wreck. Particularly the chapters concerning Veeck and the St. Louis Browns and his valiant effort to compete with the Cardinals in the same town. Ultimately Veeck lost to factors beyond his and he was not the beneficiary of an act by one of his loyal workers to turn the tables on the opposition.

This film underscores a problem that was common on both sides of the pond. Lots of small theaters were going under as more and more televisions were in living rooms. Eventually came the multiplex cinemas in the USA and the UK. I suspect that if Travers and McKenna really wanted to hold on to the business the Bijou, also known as the flea pit for its dilapidated condition would have become a small art house cinema.

Bernard Lee and Peter Sellers were playing folks many years older with some great makeup. Rutherford is always a delight and Travers and McKenna had great chemistry carried over from real life.

A very nice and gentle comedy from Great Britain.

And this review is dedicated to the greatest promoter of the 20th Century Bill Veeck.

The film begins with a young couple learning that they are the sole beneficiaries in a will for a relative they didn't know existed. Visions of great wealth and success dance in their minds, though it runs out all they really inherited was a broken down and debt-riddled old movie theater--along with three old people who work there. All is not lost, though, as they discover that a large and successful movie house nearby wants to buy their property. The problem is, since they know nothing about the business, the other theater is offering next to nothing to buy them out. So, to increase the value of their business, they decide to re-open the old place and thus force a better offer.

While this movie DOES feature Peter Sellers as a supporting player, you should not rush out to see it because it's a "Peter Sellers Picture". That's because although he is in the film, you'd have a hard time noticing that this is the same Peter Sellers you're used to seeing, as his role is decidedly non-comedic. He is made up to look like a rumpled 60-something year-old man and he's fine in the role--but he is given nothing funny to say or do and Sellers plays the role very straight. Now this does not mean that this isn't an enjoyable film, though it's a very, very mild comedy with none of the silliness or quirkiness you might expect from a Sellers film.

Don't expect the magic of an Ealing picture or a Sellers farce. This is just a cute little film about the foibles that develop as they try to make a go of it, though I must say the ending was pretty strange and didn't fit in well with the rest of the film. Decent acting and a likable but slight plot make it a nice little time-passer, but not a whole lot more.

This film starts off with a young couple inheriting from an uncle long forgotten. An old theatre named the "Bijou" but known to the locals as the "flea pit" starts the fun. Apart from a closed decaying building, the couple also inherit three old eccentric people who are the employees of the Bijou. Not to be left out is the nefarious owner of the town's other theatre house who wants the valuable land under the Bijou for expansion. The young couple reopen the old theatre to an array of problems. You actually begin to "root" for the employees and couple to keep the old theatre going. Ingenuity is upmost in "bringing" and "keeping" paying customers. These attempts are both amusing and creative and makes this film worth watching.

This is one of those charming British comedies about oddballs in a small town. In this case a young couple inherits a decrepit theater with three decrepit employees and attempts to run it in hopes of convincing another theater it's worth buying out to close down.

It's a cute premise, even though the setup doesn't totally make sense (if the reason the competing theater wants the place is so they can have more parking, they would need it just as desperately, and be just as eager to negotiate, regardless of the theater's status).

The movie is at its best when it shows the chaotic nature of the theater. There's a great scene where an elevated train situated nearby rumbles over the track and shakes the theater just as a train rumbles through the movie, thrilling the crowd. The staff is amusing and the couple is likable.

At the same time, the movie has a sketched-out quality. The writers had a few ideas for gags and wanted a movie to put them in, so it gives you the gags in a haphazard way and then wraps it all up suddenly and rather oddly.

Still, it's fun.

By some chance i watched this film yesterday morning,and in the afternoon i drove past the spot in Kilburn where the exterior had been constructed on my way to an organ concert at the Gaumont State Kilburn.I also passed the site of the Classic Kilburn,now a petrol station,which was the sort of cinema epitomised by "The Bijou".In the 1950s,when the film was made,there were a lot of cinemas,or flea pits as we called them like "The Bijou".Mainly surviving on revivals of old films.The Classic chain in particular.I loved these old cinemas,and although they were not as rundown as "the Bijou" they still had seen better days.Unfortunately many of these cinemas were located in high streets and thus were prime targets for the newly emerging phenomenon of supermarkets.So not only is this film a comedic masterpiece but to me it is a warm reminder of the passing of these marvelous places.

I saw this film on DVD. It was part of a package of 50 old films - it hadn't been restored and appeared much older than its 50 years. I had trouble reading the titles and credits.

What ever happened to all those old cinemas? This is one of them. In one scene the projectionist is having a horrid time and the film burns causing a "melt" before the audience. I experienced this at a local theatre in Papua New Guinea and it took me right back. And how the audience would tolerate it. Well sort of.

The scene where the three old codgers watch a silent film is very touching. In fact, I thought this would surface again in the film but it didn't.

It was delightful. The ending is not your stereotypical Hollywood film that we accept as the norm.

If you can get this film - it is well worth the watch.