I believe that no less an authority than The Guardian called The Nudist Story “the Citizen Kane of nudist films”. This 1960 British cheapie goes by a variety of other titles, some more sniggery than others. In order of ascending levels of smut, alongside the sober-sounding Five Acres, there is the titillating Pussycats Paradise and, taking the prize for innuendo, For Members Only. Take your pick.
Made in conjunction with the British Sunbathing Association (now there’s a valiant and hopeful name) and the Sunlanders Youth Group, it’s an advert for naturism sold as a drama about a nudist camp under threat from the developers. A “save the orphanage” drama, with breasts.
The action takes place in two distinct realms. In one, the boardroom antics of a company dedicated to turning a profit, whose founder has recently died and left the entire operation to his grand-daughter, Jane Robinson (Shelly Martin). In the other, a naturist camp overseen by avuncular, straight-shooting single lawyer Bob Sutton (Brian Cobby).
They connect because the grandfather was a naturist and set the camp up as something of a philanthropic gesture. Now that he’s dead, the family want it sold and off the books. They are embarrassed by it. Getting wind of the family’s plans, Bob writes to new boss Jane and invites her to come and see for herself what a clean-limbed, fun and above board place the camp is. When she doesn’t reply, he turns up in person in London to make a face-to-face plea. Being a fair-minded sort and impressed by Bob’s sincerity, Jane reluctantly agrees to visit.
Putting meat on these bones, and giving the plot some interesting twists, two board members behind Jane. Aunt Meg (Natalie Lynn), a fusty old prude. And Stephen Blake (Anthony Oliver), a go-getter who thought the business was going to be left to him and is now determined to scupper Jane’s plans, whatever they are, largely out of spite.
Behind Bob, his nice brother Tim (Paul Kendrick) and sweet wife Carol (Joy Hinton), the embodiment of wholesome naturism. Plus, the Stephen in Bob’s realm, Gloria (Jacqueline D’Orsay), a minx who has her set her cap – and her rock-hard tits – at Bob, though he does his level best not to notice.
Everyone dressed in the boardroom, everyone undressed at the camp, though the camera does its best to stay above the waist. Director Ramsey Herrington fleshes – if that’s the word – things out with “brochure” shots of the camp at play: documentary footage of beach balls being thrown about and naked people frolicking in the pool etc.
It’s all rather chaste. It was shot in 1959 and the leads have the clipped accents of 1950s British drama – Brian Cobby went on to become the voice of British Telecom’s speaking clock. There’s a chintzy score to go with all that frolicking and at one point the story pauses for a musical number which might as well be signposted, “You can cut this if you need to lose a few minutes”.
It would be easy to laugh at it and yet, beyond rolling my eyes at the steadfast way everyone’s gaze remains above neck level, I was won over by it. Cobby and Martin have the sort of chemistry that would be useful if Bob and Jane (names straight out of kiddie books) were to fall in love. And Martin is so convincing as boardroom babe Jane that when it comes to the scene where she considers getting in the swing of things by going naked… it actually means something.
Granted, everyone is won over by naturism much more easily than seems likely but its heart is in the right place. In many respects it’s the filmic equivalent of Health & Efficiency magazine, the British publication for naturists (still going) attempting to throw the shame of nakedness back at those who point and titter. All in all it’s probably the sight of naked children that’s going to be the most controversial aspect of this charming time-capsule these days. Which says what about all of us?
The Nudist Story – Watch it/buy it at Amazon
I am an Amazon affiliate
© Steve Morrissey 2026
