Time Gentlemen Please!
A W.C. Fields comedy set in Little Hayhoe, Little Britain, on
the theme of black sheep besting whited sepulchers.
The point-one unemployed is an Irish grandda who doesn’t care for
the work, whatever it is, the PM is to visit.
The ancient almshouse has a proviso in the parish register, meadows and
grazing lands yield their revenue to the inmates, he’s them and very rich
as it develops.
The town sweeps out its council grafters to greet the PM with a
well-known tune.
“Quite a nice little picture,” says Karel Reisz (cited by
Halliwell, whose own opinion is “artificial, thinly scripted and
overlit”).
“A Group 3 Production / Executive Producer: John Grierson”.
Cosh
Boy
British blackjack, evidently the basis of Kubrick’s A
Clockwork Orange.
The wit resides in the evocation of the war, both wars, per
Fuller’s Verboten! and Brecht’s The Resistible Rise of
Arturo Ui, the “big Canadian slob” who marries the title
character’s mother and gives him a good thrashing (deplored by the BFI)
is thus explained.
Albert, R.N.
Naval POW camp near Hamburg (cp. Dearden’s The Captive
Heart most importantly).
The main point of diversion is the sharp analysis of Renoir’s La
Grande illusion and no mistake, the naval commandant is replaced by a Hauptsturmführer,
there’s an end, goodbye to all that, back to Blighty once he’s
dead.
Long, suspenseful argument with the title character to the fore, an
artist’s dummy well-remembered by Siegel in Escape from Alcatraz.
“Stolidly unimaginative” (Tom Milne, Time Out Film Guide).
Halliwell gives out that it is “an archetypal POW comedy
drama.”
The Good Die Young
A raid on the Post Office for old banknotes sent back to
Threadneedle Street for “repulping”.
The type of men who engage upon such a venture are the subject
of analysis, and their wives.
Halliwell saw nothing at all in this.
The title means war casualties, in the cynical view of the
criminal mastermind, a man who kills for the pleasure of it.
The American Air Force sergeant is married to a philandering bit
player, Joe from New York has trouble with his English mother-in-law, Mike the
ex-pugilist has left the ring with nothing.
Variety didn’t quite get the point, Time Out Film Guide
was blasé.
The sudden and terrible violence multiplies in the getaway though a churchyard
where the money is hidden among the dead who die in the Lord.
The Sea Shall Not Have Them
The Air-Sea Rescue service of the RAF in 1944, a close variation
of Crichton’s For Those in Peril for purposes of study and
elaboration on a slightly different theme, or perhaps to show all that is
contained in it.
A picture of the war and something else again.
Halliwell dimly remembered the Crichton and wrote dimly of this.
Let us imagine a film shot down by a critic, if such a thing exists, the
airmen with vital information drift toward oblivion on the enemy shore, a
high-speed launch with a distracted or green or lackadaisical crew makes its
way tediously in lousy weather, a frosty gale, all the considerations involved
are plotted most carefully by the scenarists, and this is only one aspect, one
way of looking at it, a consummate masterpiece.
Cast a Dark Shadow
An incredibly foolish Cockney (Dirk Bogarde) kills an old broad
(Mona Washbourne) for her money, but her American sister (Kay Walsh, actually
English and living in Kingston, Jamaica) holds it in trust. He marries a
salt-of-the-earth Cockney barmaid (Margaret Lockwood) who married the landlord
and now is a widow, she’s strictly “pound for pound” with him
but loves him.
The sister arrives, incognito. The murderer, smartening up, sees
through her ruse and plots to do away with her. Everybody gets wise in the end,
even the old broad’s nosey-Parker attorney (Robert Flemyng), which is the
point of suspense cited by critics from Crowther to Catchpenny as the missing
desideratum in a furioso film akin to
Losey (The Sleeping Tiger, The Servant) as well as Hitchcock (Stage Fright).
Reach for the Sky
The metaphor is from A. Lincoln sizing up a deserter’s
family.
Bader finds aviation, military and civil, no place for a man of
his stamp. His own joke is not a leg to stand on, but he does and triumphs,
carrying all with him.
Crowther wrote a scathing review that is the height of folly, this
being in every way a British masterpiece of cinema.
The Admirable Crichton
How Mozart left the Archbishop’s service, “his own
skiffsman!”
A magnificent film on location with John and Ernest strictly
from Wilde, and a certain Lady Brocklehurst, also a canon or curate and a
butler, etc.
A play with William Gillette on Broadway, adapted by the
director.
Carve Her Name with Pride
Violette Szabo, early life and two missions into occupied
France.
Fighting spirit and resoluteness are her keynotes, she’s
half-French, the rest bulldog.
A girl married to a French Foreign Legion officer dead at El
Alamein. The service looks her up, she’s talented, formerly at
Woolworth’s.
Liaison to the Resistance is her job, under supervision.
The view of a war fought to stave off the Nazis from England and
France is that of a knowing participant, will formed,
mind aware of the gift bestowed.
Ferry to Hong Kong
From Macao and back again, the engineer’s
paradise.
The authorities place a “black sheep” aboard, a man
neither here nor there.
Damn useful fellow in a typhoon, or faced with a Chinese pirate.
Damn amusing portrait of a limey, a composite thing, by Orson
Welles.
Goddamn foolish review by Howard Thompson, a great steaming nit,
“dismal” (New York Times).
“Clueless... moronic... at sea... scuppered...
rocky” (Time Out Film Guide).
Halliwell’s
Film Guide makes the turd.
Sink the Bismarck!
The First Sea Lord (Laurence Naismith) has a remark on
“charm and personality” that is exactly in accord with T.S. Eliot
and sets out the theme played by Captain John Shepard (Kenneth More), a
fictional character in command of the Admiralty War Room. Half the theme,
because what happens is the canticle of Abraham and Isaac.
The Nazi spokesman is Admiral Lutjens (Karel Stepanek), out to
reclaim his former glory and that of Deutschland in the name of the Nazi Party
and the Führer.
Critics have been at a loss on both sides of the Atlantic. The
subtleties meant nothing to Americans for some reason, and what is more, the
British too are calling it “stiff-upper-lip” stuff.
H.M.S. Defiant
The Abraham and Isaac motif in Sink the Bismarck! is
developed here as the ship’s captain and his midshipman son tortured by
the first officer but observed by the ship’s surgeon.
An able captain, slowly assuming command. A bold officer, not up
to his responsibilities. These two characterizations are much if not all the
length of the film.
Lumet has the great analysis, showing as well the derivation
from Ford, in The Hill, for this is the Spithead mutiny of 1797.
Eisenstein’s The Battleship Potemkin and
Howard’s Fire Over England go into it, and there is a coincidental
resemblance to Ustinov’s Billy Budd.
If it had masts and sails, it was “boyish” to
Crowther of the New York Times.
“Not very remarkable or memorable” (Halliwell’s
Film Guide).
The 7th Dawn
A highly astute understanding of Southeast Asia after the war,
in which the participants divide into a British government dissolving toward
independence, a Malaysian guerilla trained in Moscow, an American planter
equidistant from both sides, and his Eurasian mistress who teaches school and
is emotionally riveted by the situation.
This fell on deaf ears, to say the least. Bosley Crowther
reached an altogether new height of idiocy in the New York Times, and he
had company.
The symbolic representation came true a decade later, the logic
remained.
Alfie
A play older than Ralph Roister Doister, Chaucer’s Miller
and Reeve, the Wife of Bath, even King David in the mystery plays.
Arcane, so much so that critics increasingly have a hard time
addressing the main point, it’s a charm they say against moral
distinctions.
The eternal Father has his worship, all earthly relationships
are as nothing to it. Failing this and the commandment of Abou Ben Adhem, Alfie
twice gets into a personal bind (Gilda, Ruby).
The rest of the machinations are various devices for evading the
issue on the part of his paramours, who in this respect are like so many
critics.
“Uphold me with thy free spirit.” Autonomy is one of
the great demands of modern art, late Kandinsky has the idea.
The score by Sonny Rollins deserves mention.
The Graduate and Midnight Cowboy pick up immediately on a
joke or two.
Baudelaire’s “Les
bons chiens”.
You Only Live Twice
The revolt of woman takes place in a Japanese volcano crater
because in Japan “women come second.” A typical feminine ploy sets
the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. on the edge of World War III, with SPECTRE to lord it
over the ruins (its symbol is the octopus). Space capsules belonging to each
country are engulfed by the SPECTRE apparatus while orbiting, their crews held
captive (the slow image is from Powell & Pressburger’s The Battle
of the River Plate), each side blames the other.
Thus the piranha pool.
Bond naturally becomes a Japanese male to enter the crater,
joined by ninjas of the Japanese Secret Service.
Commander Bond dies in Hong Kong, machine-gunned in a Murphy bed
by assassins in league with a Chinese girl sent by MI6 for this purpose, it
takes the pressure off from his various adversaries. Later, under a Japanese
name, he marries a pearlfisher for this assignment.
Roald Dahl’s screenplay is decisively geared to action in
this magnificent analysis of Dr. No, and Gilbert comprehends it as a
dazzling suite of images, beginning (after the outer space introduction) with
the death and resurrection of James Bond, and his subsequent appearance as a
Japanese fisherman, ninja-trained.
It is discovered that he “took a First in Oriental
Languages at Cambridge,” where he presumably studied with Jack Hawkins,
who taught that subject there in The Bridge on the River Kwai.
The film is an absolute triumph for Ken Adam, and establishes
him in the ranks of Van Nest Polglase and Vincent Korda, definitively.
Gilbert’s direction rises to the diapason of the helicopter shot of the
dockside fight, but perhaps his best shots are the POVs from the monorail of
Adam’s tremendous crater set (which, like several other shots and
sequences, closely anticipate 2001: A Space Odyssey).
One polished, witty gag is adroitly lifted out of The Lady
from Shanghai, and the film concludes by paying homage to Keaton’s The
Navigator with similar adeptness.
For the first time, SPECTRE is unnamed, perhaps because it is
seen to be using a corporate front in an ultimate bid for world conquest (its
astronauts wear the logo of the Osato Chemical & Engineering Co., Ltd., the
symbol is a circular variant of the spiked-square Tong tattoo in Thunderball).
SPECTRE’s No. 1 shows his saber-scarred face and introduces himself to
007.
The John Barry/Leslie Bricusse song opens on a little theme from
Brigadoon.
The Adventurers
A joke about banana republics can be made and probably was,
revolutionary politics make up the major portion of the study.
The revelation of love in a tortuous history is the remainder.
The considerable resources of filming carry the fictionalizing
effort of the screenplay to a satisfactory level of abstraction, notably Prince
Nikovitch’s fashion show is merely an impression, like the attack on the
train, this is very artful.
El Rojo installs himself as dictator, killing Jaime Xenos and
compromising his son Dax Xenos with the opposition leader El Condor, which
brings about the death of Dax in the regime of El Lobo. The time it takes to
establish this joke is required to avoid the appearance of a spoof.
The critical view is probably summed up by Variety,
“a classic monument to bad taste.”
Operation: Daybreak
Reichsprotektor Heydrich, his end, a Czech operation out of
England.
The prose facts, not the Brecht-Lang poem.
Lidice, church battle, record of the participants.
He was next in line to the Führer, all of occupied Europe under
his command.
A pure study of the Nazi Übermensch,
Anton Diffring as Heydrich.
The Czechs doing what they may.
A great, erudite masterpiece on a grand scale dealing with a
small feat, a nearly-botched mission.
“An over-routine journey” (Time Out Film Guide).
Halliwell deserves to be cited in extenso, “curiously-timed evocation of wartime resistance
adventures, too realistic for the squeamish and certainly not very entertaining
despite a fair level of professionalism.”
The Spy Who Loved Me
The ruined city, the new city beneath the sea, Karnak,
Stromberg’s black crab thalassopolis.
British, Russian and American submarines are subsumed by the
gangster mother ship Liparus for an end to New York and Moscow by
missile attack, to bring about a “new era”.
A film of sheer bloody genius.
The theme stated here and expanded in films like The Trouble
with Spys and The Russia House is primarily straightforward and
presents no obstacles. The emerging superstructure of a blind fate is set up
against the counterfoil of a different kind of irrationality, and you get the
great set pieces of skiing with a parachute or driving your Lotus underwater.
Stromberg’s Atlantis rises like Moby Dick (or rather the Pequod)
in a certain multivalency or articulation, a regrettable mirror image of an
unseen detail of 2001: A Space Odyssey’s ending that was to have
the Star Child observe Armageddon. The curious descents off a mountainside to
Egyptian tombs and finally undersea prepare Moonraker, and the tag pegs
the thing as Melville (with a subtext of Verne).
The great son et lumière
at the pyramid is surely an homage to Hammer Films.
In the ancient tradition of movie critics, Janet Maslin echoed
Bosley Crowther’s argument with You Only Live Twice, “it
seems half an hour too long.”
Moonraker
A marvelous extension of the Dr.
No theme, in which Bond sprouts wings at an Amazonian pinch exactly as
Nabokov prescribes in his lecture on Kafka.
The space shuttle on the back of the 747. The space station,
“Noah’s Ark”, to repopulate the murdered world (by orchid) in
the image of Drax (cp. Maté’s When Worlds Collide).
Spielberg & Lucas done to a turn.
The Marines have EVA’d.
In Rio, Bond asks where Drax has gone, and immediately finds
himself answered by the aerial tramway of Night Train to Munich,
followed by one of Jerry Lewis’s gags (The Disorderly Orderly) and a punchline answering From Russia with Love.
Ken Adam’s designs have a new grandeur and complexity. One
of his classic designs is briefly seen before it folds down into a launch pad
for one of Drax’s Moonrakers.
The shooting party from La Règle du Jeu is evoked, and
ends with a curious anticipation of The Shooting Party.
Altogether, the grandest and most mysterious of the Bond films,
as well as the most exacting to film, at that point. Gilbert’s earlier
interest in 2001: A Space Odyssey is greatly developed with Ken
Adam’s close assistance.
“What’s it about? That’s a silly
question,” Canby wrote in the New
York Times.
Educating Rita
A variant of Butley
(Doctor of Letters quondam poet, ex-wife, disloyal mistress, Trish the
Mahlerian nostalgic standing in for Edna Shaft, and the dippy hippie now a
female hairdresser/waitress), with a direct citation from A Kind of Loving (the wedding photograph) and a Samson-and-Delilah
finish (Dr. Bryant off to Australia, after a haircut).
The theme is “literary criticism” and Pound on a
thirst for learning, the common theme among critics was that the characters
(who do not exist and do not read but are read) have not read their texts (Howard’s End, Peer Gynt, Macbeth,
Blake).
All this is what Simon Gray’s don calls
“subtext”, it occurs in the loveliest Dublin cinematography imaginable.
Haunted
“Sussex, England, 1905”. Simpering tune played on
the piano by Mum, who mugs for the camera. Twin children outside, boy and girl,
she teases him, he chases her, she cracks her skull on a rock and falls in,
drowned. Twenty-three years later he’s a Professor of Psychology
debunking mystics and séances, he receives a call from a terrified old lady.
Theme and variations, leading through every permutation of a
guilt complex in one unreal terrain after another, until the ghost is laid
after a fashion and the simpering tune is modulated behind the end credits into
something like an English folk melody.