Aldo Bondi is a professional pallbearer and mourner in Rome who lives well off the extravagant gifts given to him by the richwidows he comforts. When he falls for the supposedly penniless Baroness Sandra - who is actually a rich "black widow" whose husbands all die - he concocts a Ponzi scheme to bilk three widows by taking money from them, telling them that he will invest it during the "five golden hours" between the closing of the stock exchange in Rome, and the opening of the New York Stock Exchange. However, the Baroness absconds with the cash, leaving Bondi in hock to the widows. He attempts to kill them, but the scheme fails and he pretends to have gone insane. In the sanatarium, his roommate is another debtor feigning madness, Mr. Bing. One of the three widows dies, leaving Bondi a fortune, which he can only have if he continues to be insane, otherwise the inheritance is to go to a monastery - so Bondi makes a deal with the brothers to split the money. He returns to Rome, where Mr. Bing makes contact with Baroness Sandra and, for a fee, tells her that Bondi is now rich. Sandra and Bondi get married, and soon he is her seventh dead husband.
Five Golden Hours was filmed in two versions, one for English-language release, and another, released as Cinque ore in contanti, for Italian consumption. In the Italian version, some of the smaller roles were taken by Italian actors. Location shooting for the film took place in Bolzano, Italy and the surrounding area. Kovacs cited the picture as his favorite among his own films. The film was the last directed by Mario Zampi.
Reception
The movie received generally tepid reviews. The one in Variety complained that "too much onus is flung on the shoulders of Ernie Kovacs, a talented comedian, but one who is more acceptable in smaller doses." The New York Times' Howard Thompson added that "Alec Guinness and a subtle director could have turned into gold," but "hammered brass is what we get, unfortunately." He was critical of the two American stars, saying that Kovacs was "sniggering self-consciousness" while Charisse was "merely wooden." The Sunday Times presented a more favorable evaluation, calling it "a wicked, happy little surprise," "an excellent black joke of a sort rare in the British cinema" and that "most importantly, it has Ernie Kovacs, a player whose comic vitality hasn't been staled."
