Quick and varied comedy, highly suited to Neil Simon's machine-gun gag-writing. The four sketches about guests in a Hollywood hotel range from out-and-out banana peel slapstick (Cosby and Pryor) to tragi-comedy of a superior kind (Fonda). Inevitably Fonda provides the film with its centre, giving another performance of unnerving sureness. Also on the credit side is a bedroom farce of epic proportions from Matthau and May. The other vignettes are a bit glum.