Nothing proved… Scandal (1989), BFI Blu-ray/DVD out now

Hot on the heels of the recent BBC series, and thirty years on from its release, it’s interesting to learn that Scandal was originally conceived as a three-part TV series by producer Stephen Woolley and writer Michael Thomas who felt that was the best medium for what is still a news story. Indeed, even in 1989 the Profumo scandal was very much alive with the “establishment” obstructing this film where they could – the BBC and others went cold after initial interest, locations where hard to find and which actor was brave enough to play the role of one of Mrs Thatcher’s best friends.

Interesting also is the initial take of director Michael Caton-Jones on meeting Woolley and the team at Palace Pictures who he thought were more about marketing stylish stories than content. Caton-Jones' graduate film at the National Film and Television School – included here – was after all, The Riveter (1986) a tough tale of working-class folk in Glasgow whilst Woolley had just made Absolute Beginners (1986); was this going to be another case of nostalgia for cash? After roughing them up on first encounter he decided they were serious about the subject matter and the potential the project had to make a political point as well as right some of the wrongs of recent history.

Amazingly Ian became Sir Ian in spite of the film, Joanne became Whalley-Kilmer and that's a whole different story.

My memory of the film did have it closer to Caton-Jones’ initial impressions – especially with the Pet Shop Boys and Dusty coolly stylish theme, Nothing Has Been Proved -  but watching it again now you can understand why John Hurt listed it among his favourite films. Hurt plays a blinder as Dr Stephen Ward who’s lust for life is as apparent as the determination of the powers that be to set him up as the fall guy for the infidelity of the Minister of War. Of course, John Profumo (Ian McKellen) also made the foolish decision to lie to Parliament about his involvements not just for his unfaithfulness but also because of the links Keeler and Ward had with a Russian spy.

Hurt plays Ward with a confident sensitivity, there’s even an innocence in his game playing with the swinging set and his picking up of young women to provide illicit thrills for strait-laced former public-school boys in select parties in Knightsbridge. He’s attracted to Christine Keeler – played here by the It Girl of the era, Joanne Whalley (who I once saw as Lulu in Pandora’s Box at the Almeida…) – perhaps more for what she can provide to others than himself and – she says – moulds her from show girl to high-class “companion” if not escort.

The Man, John Hurt

There’s another silent film link as the nightclub in which Christine works is set in the Café de Paris, the location used for Piccadilly (1928) with Anna May Wong. Here we also meet Mandy Rice-Davies played by Bridget Fonda with decent English accent and enough sass to earn her a Golden Globe nomination. As my daughter observed, the two actresses are more “objectified” than in the recent TV series and even though Joanne Whalley refused to do nude scenes and a double had to be used, the camera lingers long on the two as they put on their “warpaint” as The Shadows Apache plays. Even 1989 is a long way away when you’re 21 and when you’re older you just forget how much you’ve changed. The film was made 27 years after the scandal and released 31 years ago… which makes it braver than it seemed at the time given the posthumous handling of Profumo’s affair.

Ian McKellen is excellent as the Minister in question even though Profumo’s pattern baldness has clearly challenged make-up teams all along. He captures the sympathy in ways which balance out the narrative, he was as a victim too albeit one with more resources and friends in high places enough to allow him to carry on his life working for a charity. There’s one lovely moment when he’s in bed with Christine as she opens her moth in what initially looks like ecstasy before covering it to stifle a yawn… yes, there was clearly something else about the rich and powerful middle-aged man that attracted the teenager other than his animal magnetism.

Getting ready for battle

There’s also super support from the likes of Roland Gift as Christine’s lover Johnny Edgecombe, the legendary Jean Alexander as Christine’s Mum and Leslie Phillips as Lord Astor, one of Stephen’s better friends and therefore one of his biggest betrayers when the need to make him guilty arose. The police are a motley duo of Alex Norton and Ronald Fraser whilst the press couldn’t get any sleazier than young Keith Allen and the brilliant Ken Campbell.

Deborah Grant plays Valerie Hobson and is identified only as Mrs. Profumo in the film’s credits… even then there were some lines that couldn’t be crossed and it’s a wonder that this film was able to tread the path it did.

The BFI set includes a making of film with contributions from Hurt as well as Woolley and the Michael’s Thomas and Caton-Jones along with extended interviews with both director and producer. There are commentaries from all three along with the documentary Cabaret Girl (1956, 26 mins) on Murray’s Cabaret Club, shot shortly before its owner hired Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies as dancers. There’s the usual essay-packed booklet and you even get the Dusty/PSB video.

It’s available on 24th February from the BFI shop on and offline.

Hammer history… Peter Cushing in His Own Words, Cinema Museum

I normally come to this place to watch silent films many from the collection of Oscar-winning film archivist Kevin Brownlow who, through his interviews with silent film -makers in the sixties and seventies, helped to resurrect interest in this crucial period of cinema history. Kevin met with everyone from Pickford and Gish to Keaton, Chapin and Gish along with von Sternberg, Clarence Brown and King Vidor: he recorded the voices of those soon to be lost and preserved vital primary sources for future historians.

Derek Fowlds was one of the performers recorded for Richard Edward’s documentary on Peter Cushing and sadly it was one of his last filming engagements as he passed away in January. The cinematic world in which Cushing and Fowlds worked was vastly different from the silent period and yet it too is passing into history with many of the participants now heading into old age – as are we all. Documenting the era is, I would argue, as relevant as any film history and, whilst I’m not comparing Lust for a Vampire with Sunrise, I’m also not comparing The Roping Fool with The Hound of the Baskervilles or Peter Cushing’s ground-breaking performance as Winston Smith in the BBC’s 1984 (1954) with the work of George K Arthur. It's always been horses for courses and we love it!

It’s always important to remove the film-makers from their pigeon holes as “genre” and recognise their broader careers and skillset; many Hammer and other films of this time were made quickly – six weeks with no weekends – and on tiny budgets and they could do this because the teams all knew what they were doing; cast and crew all professionals to the core.

Richard Edwards and Peter Cushing in 1986

Judy Jarvis (nee Matheson) for example describes herself as a jobbing actor and she had a wide range of stage experience and formal training alongside the likes of Dame Helen Mirren enabling her to make the most of her iconic burning at the stake in Lust. She played off Cushing and was able to channel her genuine response to his fearsome change into character in the required sequence. Before these moments the older actor’s only concern had been for her and it was one of many examples of his soulful professionalism.

Cushing was undoubtedly a high-level performer and, having begun work in the late thirties, he only gradually attained top billing after years of smaller roles – you can see him briefly in Olivier’s Hamlet (1948) during the Prince’s fatal duel. Today he is remembered chiefly for his horror roles, playing perhaps the best Sherlock this side of Basil Rathbone (or, Eille Norwood if you want it silent and approved by the author!) and, depending on your age, Star Wars. Now, thanks to an interview Edwards recorded in the 80’s, we can also see that he was a decent impressionist too; not the best Frankie Howerd but passable!

Derek Fowlds

Edwards has been able to digitally recover his old C90 and he has combined Cushing’s career-long commentary with contributions from those who worked with him including Fowlds, Jarvis, Madeleine Smith, Valery Leon and others. Narrated by Jenny Hanley, the documentary includes many actorly tales and paints a picture of a committed and creatively generous individual, a man of faith and steadfast friendships too who mourned the loss of his wife as intensely as any living thing could bear and yet who still found vital purpose in his work.

There’s a precious recording of Christopher Lee filmed on VHS by Morris Bright MBE, now MD of Elstree, who talks of his close friendship with Cushing – perhaps it’s not too surprising to find that van Helsing and the Count got on so well?

Fowlds testimony, so close to his own passing, was especially poignant. He worked with Cushing on Frankenstein Created Woman (1967) and even though it was another short shoot, learned a lot from the older actor. Years later when enjoying the success of Yes, Minister, Derek got a letter from Peter praising his work on the series and saying how proud he was to be able to say they worked together. Fowlds kept it framed and on the wall of his office as indeed you would!

Maurice Bright, Richard Edwards and Brian Reynolds

Derek was supposed to have been here for tonight’s screening and his absence was felt even more during the post-screening Q&A. Maurice Bright hosted with a lively line in mischievous questioning for the first panel featuring not just Richard Edwards but also Brian Reynolds who, along with his fellow Elstree Runner, Phil Campbell, wrote Running Scared, tales of their time working on Hammer and other films at the studio.

Up next where the three leading ladies, described by Maurice as The Vampire Lovies and, as usual, they were delightful company, relishing the opportunity to talk about this period of their careers and much more besides. More than anything else of course, there was a lot of love for the evening’s main subject and all three attested to Peter Cushing’s influence, however brief on them. Valery Leon had only a day with the actor on Blood from the Mummy's Tomb before he had to leave the production after his wife’s diagnosis with emphysema.

Madeleine Smith worked with Cushing before and after the tragedy of his wife’s death and told of the physical impact of his grief but also his dedication to a profession that literally kept him going. Working hard, supporting those around you and creating lasting entertainment; it’s a terrific legacy and it’s good to understand the motivations and ethics that drove the man.

The Vampire Lovies

Richard Edwards also gave us a brief preview of another film he has almost completed; an extended interview with Derek Fowlds conducted last Autumn alongside his Cushing interview. I’ve a lasting image of Derek’s youthful smile as he walks down his “Hall of Fame”, posters of a life in film, television and theatre. Another visual testament to treasure.

You can watch Peter Cushing: In His Own Words on Amazon Prime.

Further details of Edwards’ films are available on his production company, Rabbit and Snail Films, website.

Running Scared is currently sold out but there are copies available on second hand sites and at events like tonights. Details are on the Peveril Publishing website.

Catfisher blues… Cyrano de Bergerac (1925), with John Sweeney, Phoenix Cinema

My daughter explained a new take on this eternal fable of head and heart, the modern practice of catfishing, whereby people create a “sock puppet” account on social media in order to convince people that they are someone they are not. Catfishing is – apparently - used for romance scams on dating websites which brings us right back to point: in this story is Roxane being deceived by the sock puppet or by the hidden hand? Edmond Rostand had no clue about any of this when he wrote the original play in 1897 and nor did Ferrer, Depardieu and Steve Martin when they were in filmed versions but the essential device is the same even though Cyrano is only of good heart in letting Christian use his words to impress the woman he loves.

In her introduction, Miranda Gower-Qian, explained how it took three years of painstaking post-production to bring this film to release as the Pathe Stencil process was used to add colour throughout this almost two-hour long film. Cyrano stands almost uniquely as an extant colourised feature from this period and is even more remarkable on the big screen and with John Sweeney’s skilled accompaniment. It’s a sumptuous classic that revels in its own excesses in full expectation that the audience know exactly what’s coming.

Repeat after me...

The story is set in 1640 during the reign of Louise XIII when France was on the verge of war with Spain. We see some of the main players arriving at the Hôtel Burgundy Theatre to watch a performance by the actor Montfleury. There’s the beautiful Roxane (Linda Moglia) who is admired from afar by the youthful cadet Baron Christian de Neuvillette (Angelo Ferrari) and who is hardly in the running as the Count De Guiche (Umberto Casilini) has plans to marry her off to a noble ally.

The theatre fills and the colours are superb as the play begins and, Montfleury who has been banned by another noble cadet, Cyrano de Bergerac (Pierre Magnier) after making “sheep eyes” at Roxane, bravely ventures forth to the centre of the stage. There is movement in the crowd and two white plumes are seen passing through the throng, eventually revealing themselves atop the hat of Cyrano - a man revered as much for his poetry as his swordsmanship - Montfleury pulls back in alarm and, after a volley of rhyming couplets retreats as fast as his legs can carry. One of De Guiche’s party challenges Cyrano and is swiftly despatched by a combination of his words and blade…

It’s an audacious opening and all the more difficult to pull off in a silent film, yet director Augusto Genina paces things well and allows his lead the time to use his expressiveness to good effect with his prosthetic proboscis somehow drawing the viewer’s focus to his eyes.

"Look into my eyes..."

Cyrano’s cousin Roxane is more than impressed with his display – no one seems that bothered about the play - and his eyes reveal his depth of affection as the two agree to meet the next day. He accompanies his pals Le Bret (Maurice Schutz) and the pastry chef-cum-poet Ragueneau (Alex Bernard) to the latter’s home were his heroism is celebrated en masse: who needs a stage play when you have the best improv in France?

Roxane reveals that she is in love and, his hopes flickering, Cyrano is crushed to discover that it is with another, the youthful Baron Christian who, like so many in this film, looks like a refugee from an early seventies progressive rock band (the guitarist in Jethro Tull or Gentle Giant’s bass player?) Cyrano promises to do his best to protect his fellow cadet and he is soon bound by an additional duty after meeting the fellow and discovering his tongue-tied reciprocation of Roxane’s infatuation.

Now this is going to get complicated and the story’s most famous scene is soon played out as Christian tries to woo Roxane by repeating words of love fed to him by Cyrano. As he stands below her balcony Roxane melts at the sweet phrasing as if words meant more than looks ever could… and here is the universal appeal, as truth is found in expression not necessarily in beauty. So, put a sock in your puppet, you catfishers!

Linda Moglia being sublime

Roxane and Christian marry but war is coming and the men must away… who will survive and will the course of ventriloquent love ever run smoothly?

Again, my daughter found new meaning in the letter Cyrano writes on Christian’s behalf as they ready from almost certain death on the battlefront. Cyrano has exposed his heart by the teardrop he shed on the paper whilst Christian’s blood is there too after he is wounded. Roxane loves them body and soul but will she realise the additional separation without which her feelings would never have been so stirred… Modern love is so complicated.

The acting is so strong especially from Linda Moglia and Pierre Magnier who is superb even from with under the prosthetic. The cinematography by Ottavio De Matteis is dynamic too but you really have to take your plumed hat off to those colourists: the film was followed by a mass outbreak of carpel tunnel syndrome which was only alleviated by the advent of technicolour.

John Sweeney provided suitably stirring motifs and drove the narrative onwards with a mix of dash and daring do that Cyrano himself would have loved. You could almost see two feathers bobbing over the keyboard.

Another excellent silent film from the Phoenix and well worth braving Storm Ciara for on a day National Rail told us not to travel! Faint hearts and all that…

It's just a gorgeous film!

The libertines… City of Women (1981), BFI Fellini Centenary

"We do not go to Fellini to immerse ourselves in story and character or to encounter ideas. What we want from the maestro and what he gives us are fabulous adventures in feeling - a decidedly original mixture of nostalgia, poignancy, and joy that is unmistakably Fellini's own." John Gould Boyum, Wall Street Journal, 1981

"At the Cannes Festival the papers said that Fellini's last film was a total disaster, and that he himself had ceased to exist. It's terrible, but it's true, his film is worthless." Andrei Tarkovsky, 1981

I’m around the same age as Marcello Mastroianni when he made this film and just a few years younger than Federico Fellini who produced, directed and wrote this fantasy in which men of our age come face to face with feminism. I’m a generation or two below them and from a different cultural environment but I can’t say that I don’t know men like Snàporaz, Marcello’s character and therefore a cypher for Fellini. So, other than a snapshot of middle-aged male reactions to feminism, what can we make today of a film that so divided opinion at the time. We should also bear in mind what the director wrote about generational difference in the late sixties: “…faced with one of today’s youngsters, the young man of 1938 is like an accountant faced with a butterfly.”

I’m no butterfly counter but it’s safe to say that City is a startlingly inventive visual experience full of magically real episodes that are beautifully shot by Giuseppe Rotunno – Fellini in colour is always sweet-shop overload but capturing his mind’s eye took some doing and Rotunno worked with him on eight films. Mastroianni is also at his finest as the confounded Snàporaz who’s good nature allows him little awareness that he is part of a system of patriarchal oppression; it’s all a complete surprise to him, even when the points against become ever more personal.

Bernice Stegers gives Snàporaz the right impression, or so he thinks.

The film begins with Snàporaz waking up on a long train journey only to catch the eye of an attractive and enigmatic woman (Bernice Stegers) who excites his sexual interest so much he tries to make love to her in the toilets before mindlessly following her off the train at her station, which turns out to be a field in the middle of nowhere. Still following his base instinct, Snàporaz is left stranded as his train pulls away as does the woman after she calls out his crude advances.

Snàporaz begins a search for civilization only to find a hotel in the middle of a wood hosting a feminist convention with a particular focus on him; the woman from the train even pops up to target him personally. Snàporaz is initially fascinated and amused but this soon turns to concern. He is helped away from the febrile debating hall by a young woman, Donatella (Donatella Damiani) who seems friendly enough but soon has him on roller skates as dozens of other women come into this new room and skate at and around him.

He is helped escape again this time by a large woman (Iole Silvani) who finds him fallen at the bottom of the stairs and then offers to take him to the station on her motorbike. It’s a ruse though and she tries to have her wicked way with him in a greenhouse before being chided by her mother. It’s role-reversal for Snàporaz but things get even worse when he is rescued by girl gangs who drive too fast and eventually at him.

It's a trap and there are too many of them to quote George Lucas.

He seeks refuge at the large country house of Dr. Xavier Katzone (Ettore Manni) the ultimate woman hunter who has a hall of remembrance where he has recordings made of his 9,999 conquests… In the main hall Snàporaz finds his wife Elena (Anna Prucnal) who may become the 10,000^th and he even has a cake to celebrate. Yet, whilst noting this impressive record, the priapic Doctor is now resolving to say goodbye to women… Then the police arrive, made up of the women from the hotel including the frisky motorcyclist and inform him that one of his precious pet attack dogs has died, a very male breed, a hunter for a hunter.

Dr. Katzone’s house is bigger than the hotel where the women convened and it contains a hall paying tribute to every conquest; pictures with recorded highlights which delight Snàporaz, who flicks them on and off with glee savouring their reduction to recorded signifiers of male dominance. There’s no love just lust and conquest. The film snowballs, and there’s no let-up in the escalation of the director’s cavernous visions. Fellini’s flash can be off-putting – Roma on the small screen is a tough watch; too much to squeeze through - and yet seeing it in cinema contains the exuberance rather than magnifying it. Either way, you have to tuck into Federico’s feast even when, cinematically speaking, you may just want to enjoy a contemplative sandwich.

But on it goes as Snàporaz’s unrepentant and, to be honest, almost uncomprehending, sexual attitudes are examined by a swirling array of larger than life women including his own wife, arrived to sing operatically and to throw herself at her reluctant husband:“I want to make love!”...“But it’s raining…” comes back his excuse as he looks for the younger women.

She’s less chance of lighting his fire than setting the drenched woodlands ablaze; he wants the ones he can’t have and he wants them all. As in a dream he chases two nearly-naked nubiles – including the ever-smiling Donatella until, unable to sleep in the huge bed provided for himself and his disappointed wife, he crawls underneath and through a hole to find a fairground in Katzone’s unfeasible basement.

As he descends on the slowest of helter-skelter slides, he sees his romantic life played out in front of him and his restless search for the perfect woman becomes a trial with the reward of a giant inflatable balloon variant of this impossible creature. Once more Marcello takes to the skies in a Fellini dream… or… is it?

Welcome to the House of  Fun...

Roger Ebert concluded his review in 1981 by saying the City of Women was ” …worth seeing because it's a bedazzling collection of images, because at times it's a graceful and fluid celebration of pure filmmaking skill, and because Fellini can certainly make a bad film but cannot quite make a boring one.”

City of Women is certainly not that and whilst it doesn’t have many answers it at least raises the questions. It deals with the feelings and, as with all feelings, they are not always rational or explainable. If nothing else we get to see Marcello dance like Fred Astaire… he’s the most charming of rogues and no one ever coped with the dual pressures of likable and roguish quite so well!

The BFI Fellini season continues for the rest of the month, full details on their website.

Silent film clearly was a strong formative experience for young Federico...