Brunel was the great might-have-been of British cinema. Tactless, radical, idiosyncratic, he was allowed frustratingly few outlets for his talents. His most prolific period was the mid '30s, when his sheer efficiency ensured him regular work making ultra-cheap 'quota quickies'. Thematic consistency is hardly likely where the sole consideration is cost, but Brunel's effectiveness as a stylist is remarkable. Here, with a stage play script, a couple of tatty sets, and a bunch of unknown actors, he produces a witty, sharply paced, economical essay on class and manners in inter-war Britain. It's ironic that while Brunel was energetically devoting his talents to programme fillers, the moguls of film production were bent on importing American and continental directors for their disastrously expensive 'prestige' productions.