Perry Kate Very very predictable, including the post credit scene !!!

NekoHomey Purely Joyful Movie!

Brendon Jones It’s fine. It's literally the definition of a fine movie. You’ve seen it before, you know every beat and outcome before the characters even do. Only question is how much escapism you’re looking for.

Jenna Walter The film may be flawed, but its message is not.

christopher-underwood I wasn't sure what to expect from this film, not having seen it back in the day, or since. In some ways it is perhaps better than I had hoped and in another less so. The problem, for me, seems to lie in the stage musical origins. Never having been a fan of such fare, it is those elements, the all singing, all dancing with lush orchestration that I don't enjoy. The more 'street' sections with the lads getting established, the strip club and marvellous Soho location shooting is fine by me but I don't need fat impresarios singing and 'dancing' especially the incredible, 'Nausea' supposedly about the very youngsters he is promoting. Cliff is fine, strangely enough his wavering and erratic singing voice seeming his biggest problem. He must have sorted that out later by sticking to what he was able to deal with. So, I loved the London streets, the decent enough representation of Soho back in the late 50s, the slightly cheeky strip scenes and although the film is not very even, still harping back to its stage roots, it is very watchable.

dont_tell_duncan This was actually much better than I thought it could have been. And for a younger viewer it provides a snapshot of how Cliff really was once hip, belying his now ubiquitously and perennially uncool image. However, not being any sort of director or producer, it is very rare I ever have an insight of how I would remake a film. In the right hands, though, you sense the germs of a story that could have been executed with far more pathos - in the manner of say, a 'Darling' or even an 'All About Eve'. Entertaining as it is, it falls far short of being even the best Cliff film.Lawrence Harvey is - for the first time that I've seen - badly miscast as the sleazy agent with a heart. He never quite gets to grips with the deeper layers of the amoral Johnny Jackson and the accent flits around hopelessly compounding the problem. You imagine what a Dirk Bogarde or even a young Peter Sellers might have done with such a role? Yolande Donlon portrays 'American star' on autopilot and the sexual tension is far too underplayed (although probably a fear of the censors more than anything else). Cliff is reasonably endearing, but is laughable as any sort of 'British Elvis' - one watch of King Creole (which this film surely owes a lot to) demonstrates Elvis as a far superior actor, albeit one who was never really given a chance to shine. He also inevitably always managed to wear his outfits - however outlandish - with far more panache than the embarrassing costumes Cliff is forced to don (check out the swimming trunks/shoes/socks combo!). Only Sylvia Syms is amiably convincing, but is never really given adequate chance to shine in the role of stripper-with-a-heart Maisie King.At the root of the problem is a makeshift script which suffers from not knowing what it wants to be? Is it a morality tale? Light entertainment? A document of a short era of London's youth culture? Or simply a quick buck being made off what I imagine was expected at the time to be Cliff's fleeting popularity? Whilst there are flashes of wit and the odd great scene, these are counterbalanced by irrelevant unfunny scenes (such as those involving the inexplicable buffoon children of Donlon's publicist?) and insufficient background characterisation of all the leads. It also lacks sufficient songs of a quality which could help carry it - only Voice In The Wilderness even vaguely stands up as credible, and even then it's not exactly 'edgy'.In short it's not by any means the worst way to spend 90 mins on a Sunday afternoon or suchlike, but you may end up wishing for what could have been so much more...

ianlouisiana "Expresso Bongo" belongs to my youth.I idolised jazz musicians like Johnny Jackson and derided little poppets like Bongo Herbert.Johnny's ambivalence towards his protegee was perfectly understandable to me as an extension of the jazzers'ideals of not compromising their art for filthy lucre(well,I was only 19). This is the Soho movie par excellence.I'd walked the same streets and been to the same clubs as Johnny on the fringe of "The life" as they call it now.And in 1960 a certain innocence still prevailed in much of the square mile.OK,there were no tarts with hearts,but strippers and song-pluggers,wannabe drummers,agents,bookers,and their like filled the coffee bars and blocked Archer Street every day.It is a world that no longer exists,but if you stand around the "Red Lion" at midday you can still see their ghosts.So this isn't going to be an objective review then. Laurence Harvey was extremely good-looking and extraordinarily ill-used in movies.A ludicrous "Romeo",badly miscast in "Room at the top",sleep walking in "The Alamo"...the list of his bad films is very long indeed. With "EXpresso Bongo" it all came together for him.Unfortunately it was a once-in-a-lifetime deal.Fast-talking jazz drummer Johnny Jackson was meat and drink to him.Skintight trousers,porkpie hat,drooping cigarette,Johnny talked the talk and walked the walk in 1960 Soho. Discovering Bongo Herbert (Cliff Richard playing a mooncalf pop singer) seems to be his ticket to riches,but when Johnny has to swim with the sharks he finds himself outclassed. The dialogue is taut and sharp,the musical numbers(particularly the above quoted"Nausea")rather clever.Wolf Mankiewitz wrote the original show and he had a gift for the telling lyric which is used to its fullest.Sylvia Sims is very sweet and 1960 sexy as Johnny's long-suffering girlfriend.Ten years later she would have been portrayed as a hooker and he as a pimp. Meier Tzelnicker is quite wonderful as an agent who hates pop music but loves money and has absolutely no principles - a breed that has proliferated to this day. Yolande Donlan has a difficult line to tread as Herbert's patroness,obsessed by his youth and beauty and at the same time jealous of his popularity and aware of his commercial value.She is not much remembered today which is rather sad because she had a certain vulnerable brassiness that never teetered over into caricature. Cliff Richard seizes his big chance and is very good in the title role.He is,of course sui generis.There is no one even remotely like him in the world of English pop,capable of reinventing himself endlessly but remaining basically the same.The camera isn't particularly kind to him,leaving him looking oddly chubby and unappealing,but he and the Shadows make a strong impact. "Expresso Bongo" isn't the sort of show that gets regularly revived,unlike,say,"My Fair Lady" which is comparatively cast-proof. I saw the stage production of "Bongo" with Tommy Steele's brother in the Cliff Richard role,and it was frankly awful. But,on that rare occasion when cast and material blend perfectly,it results in a movie that is a pleasure to watch and listen to,doesn't insult your intelligence and is a record of a man at the top of his game exceeding everybody's expectations,except perhaps,his own.

loza-1 A British radio show asked for people to ring in to tell them what they thought was the worst film ever made. Several people mentioned Expresso Bongo. This might not be the best film ever made, but let us be fair: I can think of at least a couple of hundred films worse than this.The story tells of the exploits of an unscrupulous theatrical agent (Laurence Harvey) and how he tries to exploit a young rock 'n' roll singer (Cliff Richard).Even if you don't like the film, you can play "spot the uncredited performers." Burt Kwok is in there, as is Susan Hampshire. Carole Ann Ford is supposed to be there, but I am yet to detect her. If you think you have seen the TV psychiatrist somewhere before...it's Patrick Cargill.Some parts of the film are right. It gets the atmosphere of the 2i's coffee bar from which the British rock scene sprouted more or less right. But the show is stolen not by Harvey or Cliff Richard but by Cliff Richard's backing group The Drifters (later to become The Shadows.) There is a scene in a coffee bar where they rock out an instrumental. That's worth watching in itself. This scene also includes some rare footage of Jet Harris's Framus bass guitar. Rock historians take note.