again, this time hearing Matt say that he had often wished the Grand were burnt to the ground) only to wake up the next morning to find that the Grand has burned down (Old Tom was last seen carrying a can of fuel oil out of the door). Hardcastle is forced to pay ten thousand pounds for the Bijou in order to stay in business while his cinema is being rebuilt. As an added condition, he has to keep the three staff on as employees. Just as Matt and Jean are leaving on the train, Old Tom tells Matt that "It were the only way, weren't it?", implying he committed arson. Alarmed, they decide to write him a letter asking him to clarify his remark, but instead send him a postcard... from Samarkand. Cast Virginia McKenna as Jean Spenser Bill Travers as Matt Spenser Margaret Rutherford as Mrs. Fazackalee Peter Sellers as Percy Quill Bernard Miles as Old Tom Francis de Wolff as Albert Hardcastle Leslie Phillips as Robin Carter June Cunningham as Marlene Hogg Sid James as Mr. Hogg George Cross as Commissionaire George Cormack as Bell Stringer Davis as Emmett Michael Corcoran as Taxi Driver Production The Bijou Kinema was not a real building; both the exterior and interior were sets. The exterior facade was constructed between two railway bridges in Christchurch Avenue, London NW6, next to Kilburn tube station. A replica at Shepperton Studios was used for close-up shots and interior scenes. The Gaumont Palace, Hammersmith in London (subsequently called the Hammersmith Odeon, and now the Hammersmith Apollo) was used for the exterior shots of the rival Grand Cinema with interiors at the Odeon in Richmond. Back projection shots of Longton, Stoke-on-Trent, in Staffordshire were used for the final scenes in the railway carriage. The silent film shown in the film is Comin' Thro the Rye (1923) starring Alma Taylor. Taylor is among the uncredited viewers in the audience. Critical reception The New York Times called it "a little package of nonsense ... populated by wonderfully wacky characters ... Margaret Rutherford's cashier, Peter Sellers' projectionist and Bernard Miles' doorman are gems"; Leonard Maltin called it a "Charming, often hilarious comedy"; and a modern review in the Radio Times wrote, "In praise of fleapits everywhere, this charming comedy will bring back happy memories for anyone who pines for the days when going to the pictures meant something more