Expresso Bongo is the slum to stardom story of a London Presley-in-the-rough, depicted with total amorality. Adapted from his own play by British novelist and playwright Wolf Mankowitz, the film removes the glittering facade of show business for a behind the scenes view of the world in its dog-eat-dog reality. The almighty pound weaves in and out of the script, permeating the atmosphere and the characterizations.

Laurence Harvey is an unknown talent agent, clawing his way upward--a sleazy, smooth-talking operator, always looking after number one and expecting everyone else to do the same; he plays a expecting everyone else to do the same; he plays a more sophisticated gentleman than his Room at the Top Midlander. The world, he tells us, is not a playground, but a jungle, and his use of others for his own betterment demonstrates it. His performance is entertaining, masterful, and quite real enough to accentuate the unattractiveness of his surroundings.

The flesh and blood, but mainly flesh, world of Soho provides a background of night life and street life, strippers and whores (it's pre-Wolfenden and Street Offenses Act). Harvey's treatment of his common-law wife, Sylvia Syms, an ecydysiast who wants to be a singer, heightens the immediacy of the theme of survival of the fittest.

Cliff Richard, as the uncut diamond, Bert Rudge, and the transformed glittering gem of a commercial property, Bongo Herbert, handles himself well while acting, but is unconvincing when he slides into song. His virile voice doesn't quite go with his peach-fuzzed cheeks.

Kenneth Macmillan's choreography is refreshingly artful. He has contrived a marvelously quasi-erotic rock 'n' roll dance in slow motion, and an amusing street scene combining car-dodging and song. Director of photography John Wilcox has handled the camera well at all times, and used his medium creatively. Those scenes with the histrionic darling of American screendom, Dixie Collins, have been overexposed, giving a flatness, lack of contrast, and washed-out appearance that are an amusing contrast to the breasty, brash, bleached blonde played by Yolande Donlan.

Director Val Guest maintains a tone of acceptance of the hard world shown. There is no self-pity, no cry for quarter, only an unblinking look at the seamy, without comment.