Carry On Emmannuelle: Why the Franchise Finally Hit the Wall

Carry On Emmannuelle: Why the Franchise Finally Hit the Wall

It was 1978, and the vibe was shifting. The "Carry On" crew had survived decades of double entendres, hospital gowns, and camping mishaps, but the world was getting grittier. Explicit was the new funny. Producer Peter Rogers looked at the massive success of the French erotic film Emmanuelle and thought, "Yeah, we can do that, but with more door-slamming and bad puns."

Honestly, it was a disaster.

Carry On Emmannuelle isn't just another entry in the long-running British comedy series; it's the 30th film that effectively killed the golden age of the franchise. It’s the "death rattle," as some critics like to call it. Instead of the cheeky, wink-wink-nudge-nudge humor that families loved, the producers pivoted to something that felt a bit more desperate. They added a second "n" to the title to avoid getting sued by the original French filmmakers, but they couldn't add the charm that was missing from the script.

The Plot: A Mess of Muscle and Misery

The story—if you can call it that—follows Emmannuelle Prévert, played by the stunning newcomer Suzanne Danielle. She’s the wife of the French Ambassador to London, Émile Prévert.

Kenneth Williams plays Émile. Usually, Williams is the highlight of any film he's in, but here? He looks like he wants to be anywhere else. His character is obsessed with bodybuilding and has zero interest in his wife. So, naturally, Emmannuelle spends the entire film seducing every man in London, from the Lord Chief Justice to the American Ambassador.

There’s a subplot involving a guy named Theodore Valentine (Larry Dann) who she meets on the Concorde. He falls for her, she forgets he exists, and he decides to get revenge by leaking her exploits to the press. It’s a cynical setup for a series that used to rely on Sid James’s infectious cackle and Hattie Jacques’s stern-but-loving authority.

Why It Failed the Fans

You’ve gotta wonder what they were thinking. The "Carry On" brand was built on being safe enough for a seaside postcard but cheeky enough for a late-night laugh. Carry On Emmannuelle threw that out the window.

  • It lost its "Cuddliness": Kenneth Williams even admitted in his diaries that the script was "repulsive." The warmth was gone.
  • The X-Rated Identity Crisis: It tried to compete with the Confessions series (like Confessions of a Window Cleaner), but it wasn't raunchy enough for the "dirty raincoat" crowd and was too sleazy for families.
  • Missing Icons: No Sid James. No Hattie Jacques. No Barbara Windsor (though she was supposed to be in it, she either had a scheduling conflict or, as some rumors suggest, found the script too smutty).

The film received an AA certificate, meaning nobody under 14 could see it. By cutting off the kids and the "nans" who made the series a staple of British culture, they essentially bankrupted the brand's goodwill.

A Cast Doing Their Best in the Trenches

Despite the thin material, the regulars showed up. This was the final "original" appearance for legends like Peter Butterworth, Kenneth Connor, and Joan Sims.

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Butterworth, playing the ancient footman Richmond, actually died just two months after the film opened. Seeing these comedy titans relegated to "below stairs" servants while the film focused on Suzanne Danielle’s character was a bit of a gut punch for long-time viewers.

Joan Sims, usually the powerhouse of the cast, spends the film playing a housekeeper named Mrs. Dangle. There's a particularly "cringe" scene where she wears a bra on her head while retelling a sexual encounter. It’s a far cry from her brilliant comedic turns in Carry On Cleo or Carry On Cowboy.

The Legacy of the "Last" Carry On

Technically, it wasn't the last. Carry On Columbus came out in 1992 to celebrate the 500th anniversary of Columbus's voyage, but most fans prefer to pretend that one doesn't exist either. For all intents and purposes, Carry On Emmannuelle was the end of the line for the Pinewood era.

Box office numbers were grim. The film cost about £350,000 to make—a decent chunk of change back then—but it flopped. The Rank Organisation, which had backed the series for years, had already jumped ship. Independent backers Hemdale took a risk, and it didn't pay off.

Critics were brutal. Philip French famously called it one of the most "morally and aesthetically offensive" pictures to come out of a British studio. That's a lot of heat for a movie that's basically just a series of failed sexual encounters and gym jokes.

Actionable Takeaways for Movie Buffs

If you're a fan of British cinema history or just curious about how a massive franchise can lose its way, here is how you should approach this era of the series:

  1. Skip this as a starting point. If you've never seen a "Carry On" film, start with Carry On Up the Khyber or Carry On Screaming. They represent the peak of the wit and the ensemble chemistry.
  2. Watch it as a historical artifact. If you do decide to watch it, look at it through the lens of late-70s British culture. It’s a fascinating, if awkward, look at a country trying to navigate the sexual revolution.
  3. Appreciate Suzanne Danielle. Despite the script, she handles the title role with a lot of energy and charisma. It’s not her fault the movie fell apart around her; she actually became a regular on Give Us a Clue and had a solid TV career afterward.
  4. Note the "Concorde" connection. The scenes filmed on the supersonic jet are a cool time capsule of 70s luxury travel, even if the "mile high" jokes are as predictable as you’d expect.

To truly understand the "Carry On" phenomenon, you have to see the failures alongside the successes. This film is the ultimate cautionary tale of what happens when a brand tries to be "hip" and loses its soul in the process.