Henry Holland, having worked for more than two decades as a studious and conscious bank transfer agent, arranging the transport and delivery of gold bullion, he has always dreamed of leaving his safe and humdrum routine behind and instead live the high life, but knows it will always remains just that, a dream. Meeting Alfred Pendlebury, who runs a company making souvenirs for various tourist resorts, Holland realises that the man has a factory with smelting equipment for die-cast souvenirs, and wonders aloud if he could possibly create small souvenir Eiffel Tower models out of gold, which could then be smuggled out of England to France and not attract the sort of attention any other large shipment of gold-looking metal would. Realising that both of them are open to the idea, they start to work on their plan, and they attract the services of Lackery Wood and Shorty, two career criminals who have the skills they need. Arranging a shipment of over £1 million worth of bullion to Pendlebury’s factory, and having him turn them into crates of miniature Eiffel Towers, they arrange to have them exported to Paris, where they will pick them up, but the plan starts to go wrong, causing them to be caught in the middle of a Police exhibition when they are first named as suspects, causing them to desperately try to escape, hijacking a Police car and trying to send fake directions over the Police radio broadcasts. Suddenly a quiet life is something which very much appeals to Henry Holland. One of the true classics of British post-War cinema, The Lavender Hill Mob is an almost perfect conglomeration of the talents who were to be found in and around Ealing Studios during the Fifties, blending very fine leads with an Oscar-winning script by Ealing regular T.E.B. Clarke (Passport to Pimlico / The Titfield Thunderbolt), fine direction by Charles Crichton (Dead Of Night) and fine photography by Douglas Slocombe, later to be one of the finest British cinematographers and in constant demand, shooting blockbusters including Raiders Of The Lost Ark. As if this were not enough, there is also a very brief contribution from a very young Audrey Hepburn in the opening scenes in Rio. There’s a very charming feel to this story, with a perfectly cast Guinness as the mousy bank operative, finally deciding after years of drudgery to put into operation a plan he has quietly worked on for years after meeting factory proprietor Alfred Pendlebury (the hugely popular Stanley Holloway - My Fair Lady), employing two crooks in the form of Lackey (the priceless Sid James) and Shorty (Alfie Bass - TV’s Bootsie And Snudge) to carry out the plan involving producing Eiffel Tower models out of solid gold and exporting them, the film reminding one of just how strict H.M. Customs & Excise were post-War about the export and importation of both precious metals and currency, both being in short supply. Crichton stages the film perfectly, a terrific blend of comedy both sharp and gentle, with a couple of well-judged set-pieces, including a Police car chase which neatly parodies the studio’s own The Blue Lamp, made a couple of years earlier. Almost to emphasise the embarrassment of riches on offer here there is a remarkable array of uncredited actors, all creditable names at the time, who appear for one line or a cameo role, including Richard Wattis (TV’s Sykes), Desmond Llewelyn (Q in innumerable Bond films) and Robert Shaw (Jaws). Although not perhaps the absolute funniest of the Ealing output, this is one of the most enjoyable, hugely uplifting without every getting mawkish or sentimental effortlessly witty, crafted rather than made, and also managing to throw in some interesting satirical jabs at the press, the Police and the City financial world, and the footage of Fifties London is, as ever, fascinating. A pure joy, and hugely recommended.