When I sent back the last three DVD’s I rented to Netflix last week, I got notification on Monday that they had received one…Tuesday that they had received a second…and Wednesday the final one. I don’t understand this at all, because I sent all three of them back at the same time. In short, this kind of put a crimp in my plans this week for a post that I had sketched out whereupon I would watch The Killers (1946) and then the 1964 remake. Only they sent me the remake first. Most untidy. I will, therefore, wait until the original arrives tomorrow before any further posting on that subject.

Instead, I decided to watch one of the discs in a 3-DVD set that I purchased recently from North American DVD—and when I say “recently,” I’m being facetious, because I ordered the darn thing in mid-May. (Perhaps they call it “North American DVD” because it has to walk that entire area before it arrives here.) Anyway, it’s a collection of eighteen episodes from one of Britain’s best-loved (and one of my favorites) sitcoms, Dad’s Army (1968-77). Britcom fans are probably familiar with the show, but in case you aren’t it’s a series about the humorous exploits of the Home Guard—a volunteer group during World War II comprised of those individuals either unfit or too old to join the armed services during that period of history. (When Dad’s Army was proposed as a series, there was some trepidation that the show might offend Home Guard veterans—but as farcical as it is, there’s never any doubt as to the heroism and love of country displayed by the main characters.) It’s a splendid mix of slapstick and farce, starring Arthur Lowe (The Ruling Class) as the pompous Captain Mainwaring (pronounced “mannering”) and John Le Mesurier (The Pink Panther) as the diffident, long-suffering Sergeant Wilson. The platoon also consists of dotty WWI vet Lance Corporal Jones (Clive Dunn), pessimistic Private Frazer (John Laurie), con man Private Walker (James Beck), incontinent Private Godfrey (Arnold Ridley) and mama’s boy Private Pike (Ian Lavender). The show is a revered institution to British television viewers (the cast is often referred to as “The Magnificent Seven”) and its phenomenal success also gave way to a 1971 movie spin-off, a radio series (1974-76) and a stage version (1975-76).

My only quibble with this great 3-disc set is that some of the episodes are sort of run together (they’re grouped in threes, with the opening and closing credits included only once), but the shows themselves are undeniably funny: some of my favorites include “Asleep in the Deep,” in which the platoon finds itself trapped inside a pumping station slowly filling up with water; “The Day the Balloon Went Up,” which features the platoon attempting to capture a runaway barrage balloon; and “A Soldier’s Farewell,” where Mainwaring—after a rich supper of toasted cheese, kidneys and stout—has a wacky dream that he’s Napoleon at the end of the Battle of Waterloo.

Not long ago, I mentioned here that I found on sale a copy of a book containing all of the scripts from the series—and while they’re a joy to read, seeing them is even better. The acting and characterizations on the show are first-rate, particularly Lowe, whose “slow burn” rivals that of the master himself, Edgar Kennedy. I gambled that my dad would get a kick out of the show so I ran a couple for him earlier today and he agreed that it was pretty funny: “How come our public television station never runs this one?” We’re talking about a station that is determined to squeeze every last bit out of Are You Being Served?, a series that—ironically enough—was headed up by Dad’s Army producer David Croft, whose other Britcom successes include ‘Allo, ‘Allo, Hi-de-Hi! and It Ain’t Half Hot Mum.
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