Charles Laughton is an actor associated with gusty appetites. He seems to be happiest hurling well-gnawed bones into a corner or pouring himself a drink. But he also enjoys sonority in language, rolling off his words smoothly and easily, lingering over those he likes best. Those who like to see Laughton enjoy himself, will have a field day with "The Beachcomber" and "Jamaica Inn," two old Laughton classics.

As Somerset Maugham's beachcomber, Laughton is puckish without losing his heartiness. He delights in his own dirty-pants-and-sneakers shagginess. For sonority, he has speeches about snow in England and about understanding natives. To show contentedness he smiles abstractedly at his empty beer glass. Eventually he is domesticated by a painfully sincere missionary (Elsa Lancaster), but by then the fun is over. An incredibly clever dog unlisted in the credits gives a superb performance.

In "Jamaica Inn," Laughton is an epicurcan squire who supports his expensive tastes by wrecking ships and plundering them. His finery does not smother his heartiness, and he has some rich speeches about his own good taste and the inequality of man. Content here is in the pure wonder of a brimming glass of brandy. For his associates, Laughton has only his half-lidded contemptuous glance and a derisive sneer: "there is no one like me." He was right.