30 is a Dangerous Age, Cynthia
Panther, London, 1967
price: 3/6; 144 pages
The blurb on the back:
What makes Rupert run?
'If you haven't made it by the time you are thirty, you never will - ask anyone!'
Rupert Street, 29 years old and 5'2" of quivering sex-starved neurosis and frustrated genius has only six weeks to go...
Can he make it?
Only Cynthia knows...
There I was twenty-nine years old, a very high and advanced age and one which I thought I would never reach without having at least been a lumber jack, uranium prospector, sailor and all the rest of those things that you read about people doing on the side while still keeping their eyes on the main chance and composing symphonies or what have you by the time they are thirty.
Well, the film's okay in a disposable, ain't-swinging-London-a-gas kind of way, but the book's a waste of time. There's the occasional good gag (the big theatrical hit in London this season is a musical titled Cum, written by Alf Hornrim and 'partially packing the White Elephant'), but there's only so much wackiness that a man can take. Or at least, that this man can take. And Stanley Reynold's novelization is more than enough.
The original screenplay, incidentally was written by Dudley Moore, Joseph McGrath and John Wells.
ARTISTIC MERIT: 2/5
ENTERTAINMENT VALUE: 2/5
HIPNESS QUOTIENT: 3/5