Anthony Newley gives a strong performance as Sammy Lee, a nightclub host who’s clearly seen better days. His jokes have lost their spark, and his audience is now mostly there for inexpensive drinks and something to look at. It's not just his stage presence that's failing; he’s also deeply in debt to a bookie he can’t possibly pay back, and the bookie isn’t willing to show any leniency. Things are further complicated by his feelings for Patsy (Julia Foster), who is connected to the business he runs with the unpleasant and disreputable Gerry (Robert Stephens). A collection of well-known British actors populates the film, creating a vivid portrait of a Soho that has disappeared, and which truly earned its reputation as a center of vice and corruption. Wilfred Bramble, Warren Mitchell, and Roy Kinnear all contribute to the somber feel of Ken Hughes’ adaptation of his BBC play. It becomes apparent early on that a positive resolution is improbable for anyone involved. Hughes effectively captures the squalor and unpleasantness, avoiding anything overtly graphic or violent; instead, relying on suggestion and a growing feeling that Sammy Lee's peak has already passed. He can only hope it isn’t his final curtain call. I haven't always been fond of Newley’s type of Londoner, but here he is captivating, and at times, I even felt sympathy for him.

Source on TMDB