If this is the film I proposed four weeks ago, then where is the other half of it? This DVD features both of Tony Hancocks film vehicles, the 1961 effort 'The Rebel' and the 1963 'Punch and Judy Man'. Neither go anywhere near to capturing the genius of the performer so loved on radio and television, but they do at least give us the chance to stick him on our shelves for rainy days, while we wait patiently for more BBC releases of his material.

'The Rebel' was scripted by regular Hancock writers Galton and Simpson, with help from the star. It tells of the imprisonment of Anthony Hancock, a man with so much to give the world, but trapped in the everyday grind of everyday work. Breakfast, train, work, train, home...and then just for a few hours, Hancock can let loose his creative forces. In the backroom of his lodgings, with beret donned, he creates artistic masterpieces. The only trouble being that no-one else is high-minded enough to recognise his skills.

Hancock has no option, if he wishes to further his work, than to pack up and head for Paris. There he sits dreamily in cafes, eavesdropping on 'fellow' artists who talk with passion and vigour. He befriends one, Paul, and is invited to share his apartment and studio facilities, after all, he is behind on the rent and cannot sell his work.

Pauls work shows much talent, but even he is blown away when he sees the progressive works of Hancock. Childlike composition and use of colour, a naive view of perspective and depth, Paul cannot believe what he is witnessing, and enthusiastically invites Hancock to meet his fellow artists so that they may see his wonderous works. Before long he is the talk of Paris, and back in London his name, if not his work, has reached the attention of famed art critic and seller, Sir Charles Broward...

'The Rebel' is undeniably funny, even if the 2nd half struggles to keep the momentum going and relies instead on more conventional comedy routines than the Hancock one-man-angst-band. Indeed, the film is at it's best early on, when Hancock gets to live out his most well known persona, the angry 'youngish' man, wronged and misunderstood, so much to give but so little being taken. When he rallies against his starched collared boss, a befuddled John le Mesurier, it's great stuff. Later on there are some delightful moments as he attempts to explain his genius to daft-as-a-brush landlady Mrs Crevatte (Irene Handl being top notch Irene Handl).

Stretched out to feature length though, the focus becomes fuzzy, and by the end Hancock could be replaced by any other British comedy actor and you'd scarcely notice. One minute it's Charlie Drake slapstick, then Norman Wisdom misunderstandings and pratfalls, and it's as sad a misuse of Hancocks talents as perhaps when Morecambe and Wise decided to step into film.

The cast all work hard, even if George Sanders looks thoroughly bored as Sir Charles Broward. Look out for a very young Oliver Reed, while Dennis Price contributes a funny little cameo.

Robert Day directs competently enough, bringing the same light, fun, touch that he brought to 'Two Way Stretch', and when it's funny then the script from Galton and Simpson is very funny. It really could have been condensed into a half hour though, and feels very stretched at movie length, with the laughs becoming increasingly infrequent.

Hancock looks comfortable on the big screen, but lacks a partner to spark off of, Sid James, Kenneth Williams, anyone really.

This occasionally hysterical, often funny stab at the pretentious nature of art was not well received on it's release. It faile to set alight the British box office, and more crucially to Hancock, failed to break him in the US.

It would be another 2 years, and without Galton and Simpson, before Hancock attempted to headline a film again.

'The Punch and Judy Man' is a far more bleak and darker comedy than 'The Rebel', and suffers from a rather mean spirited script by Phillip Oakes and Hancock. It is seldom warm, and as such is rather difficult to warm to. Despite a very good supporting cast, and some nice black and white photography, this story of seaside entertainer and his rallying against social climbers fails to leave much of an impression.

Director Jeremy Summers shows little talent for comedy, and a glimpse at his resume would suggest he had little talent for anything. The script is only occasionally funny, but frequently acerbic and sour.

At its best, the film is a snapshot of bygone Britain, but does little to promote the talents of Hancock. His role as Wally Pinner, the Punch and Judy Man of the title, is Hancock by numbers. His wife, played by Sylvia Sims, is a social climber, desperate to ingratiate herself with the mayors wife and her circle of friends, and events. Her husband is less than subtle with his barbed comments, and for much of the film it appears that they are both trapped in a loveless marriage. Wally only finds good cheer amongst his equally odd bunch of friends, including John le Mesurier and Hugh Lloyd.

In an attempt to climb the social ladder, Wallys wife puts forward his name as an entertainer at the birthday celebrations for the town. He is naturally appalled and angrily states that he wants nothing to do with petty local politics and posturing.

A slight tale, told with little momentum, and with a couple of strange scenes hung onto it, both quite warmhearted and out of place with the rest of the cold film. In fact, the two scenes, one with a small child in a ice cream parlour, and the other a chat with John le Mesuriers' Sandman character in his shed-like home are the highlights of the movie.

'The Punch and Judy Man' did equally poor business at the box office, and Hancocks further appearances on the big screen were limited to two small cameos in 'Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines' and 'The Wrong Box'.

So, two interesting curios on one disc, and what of the disc? Well, Studio Canal have...what is the opposite of 'pulled out all the stops?', for this is an appalling disc. Mastered from what seems like a hundreth generation copy of the original negatives, both full of flaws, and both presented in full frame, they are quite a struggle to watch.

Admittedly, neither feature would have been shot in a widescreen process, but they would still be in a slightly wider ratio than these panned and scanned atrocities. 'The Rebel' is full of scenes of one nose talking to another nose, that is when the picture is not jumping around, or so damaged as to not even be able to make out what is going on.

Sound is crackly and dirty, and often varies wildly in volume. Extras are limited to even worse quality trailers, and the whole double feature thing is as horrid a prospect as those nasty cheap Carlton Silver Screen releases. Avoid like the plague, and wait instead for either film to show up on TV, chances are you will see a much better print.

RRP is £15.99, the ever reliable Play.com delivered mine for £11.99.