Cecil Parker is already the blowhard he was to perfect in later movies. He's the Provost of a Scottish village called Beike, pronounced something like "Beakie." He's running for a higher post and gives speeches promoting the value of "a stern hand at the helm." (Is this supposed to be a snap at Hitler?)

The poor, matronly, pitifully broke Irish lady, Sarah Algood, sells fast food from a cart and is unable to pay for her dog, Patsy's, license. Driven by Parker, the authorities reluctantly take poor Patsy and condemn her to death by injection. Sure and the dog is nae but a wee mongrel and Parker has bigger things on his mind, making up to the stuffy aristocrats who will back his candidacy.

It's a big mistake on Parker's part to ignore that dog. It's always a mistake in the movies to treat a dog with disrespect. You always pay for it in the end.

A new reporter for the local newspaper shows up. That's Rex Harrison, full of his usual charming insouciance regarding the social folkways. He writes a piece about the dog and loses his job. And he falls for Parker's daughter, Vivien Leigh, slender, youthful, radiant. When she raises her eyebrows, only one lifts, the one on her right. The left eyebrow remains comfortably in its accustomed place. She's torn between her duty to her father and her love for Harrison.

Well -- here we have a charming little village full of folk who know everyone else in town, and a bit of conflict over a dog. It's pregnant with possibilities, some bad. The charm could turn cloying but it doesn't. Nor does the film turn into an Ealing comedy with the subtle touch of genius in every other scene.

In fact it's rather dull until about half-way through when the screen explodes and a thousand dogs invade the mansion of Parker while he is entertaining the high muck-a-mucks whose political support is mandatory. It's hilarious. The skinny old men in kilts are dancing awkwardly around, men shouting, dogs barking. The dogs leap on the table and feast on the prepared dinner. They tug at the hems of the kilts. Finally, the elders make their escape from the ruined mansion, shrieking and waving their hands.

What follows is a courtroom farce in which Harrison is tried for one or another crime on charges leveled by Parker. It ends happily. Parker decides it's a better ploy to be a populist than a demagogue. Harrison and Leigh wind up in an old car with "Just Married" on the trunk. Or, pardon me, the boot.

The movie lacks the tranquil assurance of a film like "A Canterbury Tale," which is also about nothing much. And it does have its longueurs but they're redeemed by the dog invasion.

When a young reporter, Frank Burdon (Rex Harrison), is given an assignment to interview a rather nasty and self-important local politician, it turns out to be very unpleasant. Although Provost Gow (Cecil Parker)* wants to run for parliament, he does a horrible job of impressing the reporter. This is because during the interview, Gow and Burden are interrupted by a local woman (Sara Allgood) who is begging the Provost to help her. Instead of helping, Provost Gow is completely unsympathetic and cruel--and vows to have the old lady's dog put to sleep!! Burdon is horrified and angry--how dare this local political boss mistreat his constituents like this! So he does what any honest reporter would do--he publishes the truth! This is a serious problem, though, as the paper was backing the Provost AND the Provost wasn't about to back down. Another problem is that Burdon soon falls in love with the Provost's daughter (Vivian Leigh)--and this relationship is surely doomed! This is a delightful film--sort of like a droll and British version of a screwball comedy. The dialog is GREAT and Harrison is at his best. It also helped that Cecil Parker was WONDERFUL as the buffoon politician. All in all, a great little film.

*Speaking of Parker, he looked, sounded and acted almost exactly like David Horton (David Waldhorn). The likeness of the two characters is amazing.

I agree with the previous reviewer that this British film is an attempt by them to produce a Frank Capra like populist comedy. Certainly Cecil Parker as the town provost could easily have fit into a Capra film, a Mr. Potter from Scotland. Rex Harrison could easily be James Stewart, standing up for good.

Cecil Parker is the provost (Mayor?) of a small Scottish town called Baikie way in the rural north. Parker's an efficient manager who's come to the attention of party bigwigs who want to run him in a bi-election for an open seat in Parliament.

Parker is also a fatuous, arrogant oaf with the public relations sense of an ostrich. While being interviewed by reporter Rex Harrison, Sara Allgood who's a poor widow who can't afford the money for a dog license has her dog taken by Parker's police to be put to death as a stray. As she's begging, he throws her into the street.

Harrison who was going to do a puff piece as we would now call it, is outraged enough to write what occurred.

Complicating things is the fact that Harrison's fallen big time for Parker's daughter, Vivien Leigh. This was an early film for both and the megastardom that was destined for both is apparent.

Of course being the oaf he is with his ego out of joint, Parker keeps escalating this storm in a teacup until it's a nationwide issue. But the ending couldn't have been better done by Frank Capra himself.

Lots of laughs in this one and check out the scene where the dogs invade Parker's house. Could have been done as a short subject in and of itself.