Clockwise

Having known my share of stuffed shirts, I was howling at the torture of John Cleese in this film. You know who all those stuffed shirts are, too: those who insist on a spotless, shiny, tidy room; who balance out their finances every day, it seems; who have carved a nice manageable life for themselves. What makes the comedy work, though, is that in spite of all the setbacks Cleese suffers, the movie doesn't take any sadistic delight in them. When the car, and Cleese, gets stuck in the mud, we all cringe at his predicament, and laugh along with him, since we'd probably be going through the same thing ourselves, but for the grace of God. No toilet humor, no toilet language. Just a madcap comedy of errors fit for all. Right!