This bedroom farce seems better suited to a suburban dinner theatre than the Big Screen, but everyone involved strives to please, and often as not they succeed. The plot hinges upon a misdelivered parcel of pornographic postcards, which end up in the hands of a staid banker and his frigid wife. By the middle of the film (read: Act Two), everyone is being mistaken for someone else. By the end (Act Three), the leading characters have dropped their trousers or lost their dresses. No Sex Please, We're British began life as a stage play by Anthony Marriot and Alistair Foot, which ran for years in London--mostly as a tourist attraction for easily entertained Americans.