Kindly, weak-willed Henry Palfrey (Ian Carmichael) is cheated and abused by used car salesmen (Dennis Price, Peter Jones), a head waiter (John Le Mesurier), an upper class cad (Terry-Thomas), and his employees. When charming April Smith (Janette Scott) is stolen away from him, Henry takes drastic action, and enrolls in The College of Lifesmanship, run by Mr. Potter (Alastair Sim), where he can learn the ploys to beat others in life.
A very British film, School for Scoundrels is based on Stephen Potter’s books about the College of Lifemanship. As the books are wit-high, plot-low (if there is any plot at all), the film integrates the tone from the books with a story conceived for the screen, and generally it works well. There’s enough direction to keep you interested and enough character development to keep you caring. The jokes aren’t the type that will have you falling out of your chair, but they should keep a smile on your face.
In other hands, this would be a forgettable if amusing little flick. But the actors are superior to the material and carry the show. Ian Carmichael is rarely remembered on this side of the pond (not to imply that he’s dead), and when he is, it is probably for his later work on television mysteries that popped up on Masterpiece Theater, but he was an extremely effective, comedic, leading man in the late ’50s. He excelled as the pleasant innocent tossed into a cruel world, always befuddled and searching for a solution to a problem he can’t grasp. For most of School for Scoundrels he plays this role to a T. But he also gets to reverse this, becoming a self-confident rat that we can cheer for. He turns out to be even better displaying a bit of cruelty, always with a knowing glance and a false smile.
Carmichael is surrounded by the best that Britain had to offer in the ’50s. Terry-Thomas steels every scene as a bounder who, for a time, is always one-up on our hero. It’s the kind of role he could do in his sleep, but here he is awake. Best of all, there is the master, Alastair Sim. Sim, with his deep, falsely-sincere tones and bloodhound eyes, makes every line a little funnier than anyone else could. Perhaps the script’s biggest mistake is not putting him in six or seven more scenes. Janette Scott is lovely in a role that asks her to do nothing more than be lovely. Hey, she does exactly what’s required.
Even the bit parts and cameo’s are filled with the best of the best: Dennis Price, Peter Jones (The Book in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy), John Le Mesurier, and Hattie Jacques. These are people who know how to be funny.
Unfortunately, the film peters out. Great acting and good gags can only go so far. The movie needs a destination. Once the story embraces the darker edge of The College of Lifemanship, the filmmakers’ chicken out from the less socially acceptable consequences, and drably pull everything back to middle class morality. In an attempt to make the end someone palatable, they break the fourth wall, and address the audience. But it smacks of desperation, not wit. However, this doesn’t negate all the fun that has come before. While it comes off as tepid as a whole, School for Scoundrels is easy to enjoy as a series of vignettes.