The Wicked Lady

'Bawdy', 'full-blooded', 'boisterous romp' - jaded adjectives hover over this particular filmic carcass, and popular British cinema gets another Carry On Up the Restoration. Charles II is squeezing Nell's oranges ho ho, and the very wonderful Dunaway becomes a roaring girl by night, cantering out from secret back passages and getting their money or their lives from rentacrowd in full-bottomed wigs. No village green without a rollicking maypole, no keyhole without a rutting doxy behind it; Tyburn's in there somewhere, and so is that whip-fight which almost constituted a case for censorship. CPea.