Confessions From A Holiday Camp (1977 UK)

confessions from a holiday campTwas the first day of August, a Monday I believe, when a momentous event in the annals of cinematic history took place. The Confessions film series bid a fond farewell to the public. Knickers down, trousers unzipped, so tawdry and gleefully smutty, on display for one final glorious outpouring. This was a franchise with a bigger box office than James Bond in England. Surely it had to give something worthwhile to the viewer? Apart from VD.

Under England’s grey and weeping skies we can enjoy that master of disaster, Timothy Lea, (monkey-faced Robin Askwith) and his brother in law, Tony Booth, in a new and exciting venture. They’ve left behind the world of cleaning windows and driving taxis to help run a concentration camp (sorry). Its a real dive for people who love slumming it. But it does have it’s perks. Whoever thought there would be an underground cafe, where through the windows you can see the underground of the family pool! Wonder if that will come in handy later? And that’s not all – as there’s a familiar streaker roaming about, and as a Confession’s fan, you don’t have to be Stephen Hawking to figure out who that may be.

And again the family pay a visit, including the bigoted Grandad, who I find a hoot. He gets absolutely hammered (smashed/sloshed…take your pick) with drink and mistakes one of those long funeral cars, carrying a coffin, as their ride to the camp, the bereaved family with them. The grandad tries to cheer up the family with a right old knees up. Sing song. There’s a great raunchy scene near the end with Askwith up to his neck again in, you know, cleavage, thighs etc inside the ghost train building, where the family decide to take a ride. How this ends with Askwith is why I love this insane mess. He makes up with some hotties, one a busty Brazilian who really wants to win this beauty contest, and you don’t want to be at the receiving end, if she loses, as you’re liable to be wearing custard pie on your face. The pie fight that erupts reminded me of Pacific Banana, where there was a gay guy in the middle of that as well. Lance Percival plays the homosexual with all the traits most gays hate but I laughed.

Askwith shares some nude pool too, he and Booth again having close calls with their boss and other staff, their careers in the balance. I must say that is the tastiest and more entertaining of the four films, with so many other scenes I’d love to mention but this is a blog for kiddies. This isn’t so much saucy seaside postcard humour as it is the “Mayfair” letters page, with typically demeaning roles for the girls and a barrage of occasionally homophobic gags adding to the fun. Our hero even gets to say some questionably racist things to a black bird – er, I mean lady – but does she care? Off with them clothes! None of the white women on display had what she was displaying. Meanwhile, Robin Askwith mugs as if his career depends on it while director Norman Cohen was probably given a knighthood for services to British entertainment. The next time its Granny’s birthday and she’s complaining there’s nothing on the television these days, whip this dvd out and hey presto: fun for all the family.

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