and suffer under the drive of their repressions.

The film also takes an ironic look at the 'Street Offences Act' which was designed to wipe out more blatant aspects of prostitution, but which has, in fact, merely brushed the dirt under the carpet. The summons from above by waving from the Window-not strictly illegal-and the visit itself is nicely pointed by a street musician who is playing 'Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner' as the client is hooked and has not finished the tune by the time the client returns to the cold reality of the street. The streets are cold and commercial, but no more so than the transaction in the Soho garret.

We also take a look at the bowler hat brigade as they leave their banks and offices for lunch, and then show them eating while belly dancers rumble and roll around the table in a state of nudity. The stiff-upper lips become a little rabbity under the strain, and the business composure wilts; but later, with umbrellas still rolled and bowler hats properly akimbo on erect heads, they return to the offices and banks, It shows that where the flesh and money run together a fairly rancid stew can result.

The whole range of this form of night life Is looked at, from the 'pseudo-Bohemian' to the outright 'queer', and the film has some remarkable shots of a 'queer' baceret of a sort never seen before.

But this is not every aspect of London in the Raw, we see the drug addicts waiting desperately k before the one all-night drug store in London, listening for Big Ben to chime midnight so that they can dash in and present their dispenser's prescription for the day which has just begun, in England, when an addict has been discovered and is under the care of a qualified medical practitioner that practitioner is allowed to prescribe a carefully regulated amount of the drug for the patient. We see these people waiting for the last chime of midnight . . .