Showing posts with label Adrienne Corri. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adrienne Corri. Show all posts

Monday, 30 August 2021

Gently down the stream… The River (1951), BFI Blu-ray out now!

 


The river runs. The round world spins. Dawn and lamplight, Midnight, noon. ... Night, stars, and moon. The day ends; The end begins.

 

The magic of cinema is never more evoked than in this uncanny masterpiece from Jean Renoir and many helping hands not least author and co-scriptwriter, Rumer Godden, classical dancer and force of nature Radha Burnier along with a host of local talent, financiers, cast and crew including an advertising executive by day, assistant director at weekends name of Satyajit Ray.

 

The story of how the film was made is almost as fascinating as the final product and this superb double-disc from the BFI includes Arnaud Mandagaran’s “making-of” documentary Around the River (2008) which includes interviews with Burnier in her mid-eighties, the film’s remarkable producer Kenneth McEldowney, Ray and others who were there.

 

There is also an introduction by Kumar Shahani from 2006 in which the Indian director and screenwriter talks of the evolution of his thoughts on the film, initial embarrassment – perhaps cultural cringe – turning into admiration. In the booklet there is also an essay from Dina Iordanova, an historian interested in transcultural film, who points out the inevitable political omissions of Renoir’s post-colonial representation of a country that, according to Godden, overwhelmed him.

 



It’s worth noting that Rumer Godden hated Powell and Pressburger’s film of her earlier novel Black Narcissus calling it “terrible” (oh, Rumer!!) and had resolved to resist any further attempts at adaptation but when she heard that Renoir had stayed at her childhood nursery, she began to change her mind. Needless to say, the two bonded and a fascinating interview with the author and Thompson is reproduced in the booklet. She spent two years working on the script with Renoir and they remained life-long friends but, whilst she liked the film, she thought there was just too much in India for him to assimilate and he was “a little bit lost”.

 

As Shahani says though, the process of making the film changed the director who would continue to learn about India with the intellectual Burnier as he stayed with her after the film at the inter-faith Theosophical Society Adyar where her father was president, a role she later picked up. Renoir did not make the film he first thought he would and who knows what his second Indian film would have been like… As Shahani says authenticity is not so much about the creator’s immersion in the culture but his respect for it.

 

So, I went to India and was convinced, no, that word is too weak, I was conquered. It’s an extraordinary country with extraordinary people, the least mysterious in the World…

Patricia Walters and Adrienne Corri

For Renoir The River was “… exactly the shock I was needing after eight years in Hollywood…” a dispiriting experience that left him struggling for creative control and commercial fulfilment. As David Thompson says in his booklet essay, Renoir’s “… preferred working methods – giving time and space to actors to develop their performances, shooting in natural locations – clashed with the ‘professional’ prerogatives of a tightly controlled studio system.”

 

Out in India circumstances conspired to slow down to production and to enforce the perfect working regime for the director that and the sheer impact of the country on the man as a three-month shoot turned into a six-month one. What we see now evolved with the documentary style almost enforced by having to shoot the Technicolor film silently to avoid noises off and meaning that he had to get closer to his subject. This was the first film shot in India with live sound but constant crowds made filming difficult with a shot featuring two characters in a stream shown as being overlooked by hundreds of onlookers in a production photograph.

 

Radha Burnier

Another change was the introduction of a diary for the central character of Harriet (a remarkable performance from un-trained local girl Patricia Walters) which allowed a narration, voiced by June Hillman, that bound the story together better. The rushes had to be developed back in New York and this meant that editorial control was more difficult whilst test screenings revealed weaknesses in cast and narrative. World War Two veteran Thomas E. Breen was cast as Captain John, a replacement for star Mel Ferrer and whilst he was actually as disabled as his character, his range of expression was not quite there. The narration helped to establish his motivations more clearly and to establish context over lingering takes of the locale and the Ganges – the biggest character.

 

Harriet is the voice of Rumer and the tale is of her first love, Walters was just 14-15 when the film was made and does a grand job imagining her forlorn crush probably helped by the RADA trained Adrienne Corri (19) as her friend and love “rival” Valerie, not to mention the thoroughly well-trained Radha Burnier. Burnier plays Melanie the daughter of an Indian mother and an Irish father (an excellent Arthur Shields) a character created just for the film by Godden and Renoir who, is effectively a bridge between the cultures literally born from both.

 

Suprova Mukerjee

Melanie and her father, question her heritage in scenes Iordanova describe as her most important in the film but I’d disagree and nominate her incredible dance during one of the festivals. Now, some sitar players of my vague acquaintance have rightly questioned the notion of “world music” and culture but reproducing Indian classical dance in this way is a bold move from Renoir and he also uses classical music for the soundtrack throughout. As a certain James Ivory says in the documentary, this was the first time he’d heard the sitar and it wouldn’t be the last. The music, as the dance, is thrilling.

 

Harriet’s parents are played by the stalwart Nora Swinburne and Esmond Knight and there is a superb turn from Suprova Mukerjee as Nan to their five children, four girls and one boy who has an unhealthy fascination with snake charming. A friend of mine grew up in India and was always told not to pick up “sticks” from the end of their garden as… they might not always be made of wood. Sound advice.

 

The story meanders around the girls’ affections for Captain John as her visits and explores the country, at a lose end, disabled and displaced by the war. Who he choses becomes less and less important as the summer lingers long and the river flows… the round world spins.


Amazing lighting for this day-for-night shot!

The result is a triumph of Technicolored documentary drama showing life around the river, spiritual and commercial – jute being one of the areas main products. The balance is near perfect and was both a critical and commercial success that re-established Renoir in Europe where he would continue to work only with his own crew.

 

What Jean did with that film was to show the rest of the world a side of India they had never seen before… Radha Burnier, 2008

 

This is another prestige project from the BFI with, in addition to the documentary and introduction, a second disc of magnificent extras:

 

India Matri Bhumi (1959, 90 mins): Roberto Rossellini’s part-documentary, part-fiction portrait of India

Around India with a Movie Camera (Sandhya Suri, 2018, 73 mins): drawn exclusively from the BFI National Archive and featuring some of the earliest surviving film of India

Villenour (French India: Territory of Pondicherry) (1914, 4 mins): a travelogue by Pathé Frères with gorgeous stencil-coloured images of French India

Manufacturing Ropes and Marine Cables at Howrah, Near Calcutta (1908, 8 mins): an instructional film by Pathé Frères depicting the jute industry

 

Radha Burnier enjoys the dance

 

After the film Renoir said: ‘After living in India, I have become more peaceful. I would no longer worry if all of a sudden I had to turn into a bum.’ There were no worries on that score but we should all just sit down, switch off all devices and just focus on this beautiful magical, real world, timeless emotions in an eternal landscape.

 

The River is out now and you can order direct from the BFI online. Better be quick though as the two-disc edition is limited to 3,000 copies and every cineaste’s home should have one!



Monday, 1 April 2019

Here's Stanley! A Clockwork Orange (1971), BFI UK-wide re-release from 5th April


It’s hard to believe that this film is almost fifty year’s old, it’s such uncomfortable viewing with a very modern nihilism and, being made in Britain’s pre-EU “golden age”, it does a good job of presenting the type of moral vacuum that drives us now to be “free”. Do as thy wilt shall be the whole of the law and one man’s freedom is another’s licence: a free trade in human compassion that sees the weakest abused. We are now in the time of going backwards and the warnings of the film stand out starker than ever they did.

As Kubrick said of his film it is not only social (and moral) satire but a “running lecture on free-will” for if society’s cure for anti-social behaviour and criminality is brutal brainwashing and chemically-fired aversion therapy then how far have we lost the will to reason? And is this brutal “project of fear” just an admission of failure in the matter of producing a society capable of reasoning and reaching moral judgements?

So, the BFI’s decision to re-release this once-forbidden film (apart from the censors, Kubrick stopped it being screened until his death, so exhausted was he by the reactionary and, largely unthinking reaction to his work…) couldn’t be better timed. From Friday 5th April it will be playing at 200 cinemas across this septic isle and God help us…


A Clockwork Orange is as comic and brutal as its concrete backdrops but amidst the theatre of the absurd book-ending the imprisonment and “rehabilitation” of Alex, it poses the questions that hit hardest. Burgess ’62, Kubrick ’71… Trump, Brexit… we are all Alex now.

Malcolm McDowell gives one of his most complex and disturbing performances as Alex DeLarge, the boy from Burscough, adopting a strange generic northern accent which makes his love of violence and Ludwig van Beethoven somehow all the more shocking. He leads a gang of “droogs” – Pete (Michael Tarn), Georgie (James Marcus) and Dim (a young and perfectly-cast Warren Clarke). The language is Nadsat, a slang invented by Burgess involving of Slavic (especially Russian), English, and Cockney rhyming slang.

He lives at home with his folks but in the first blistering and unsettling sequence we see what they get up to on a typical night out… Back as my boyhood turned to early youth there was always a specific culture of violence in British society: bovver boys, skins, lads wandering round in light blue “parallels” and feather cuts… a glam-rocker link between well-dressed mods and later footie casuals who favoured designer labels as part of their aggressive signalling. These were all gangs you’d cross the road for and at the very least avert your gaze.

Malcolm McDowell, my Dad knew his dad...
Alex’s gang evening starts off with a vicious attack on a tramp – kicks for kicks and mindless too. Next up they interrupt another gang raping a young woman (Shirley Jaffe) in an abandoned theatre/cinema – a degenerate “show” – and attack the other gang not to rescue the girl but just because they can. Celebrating victory in a comically back-projected, Wacky Races car drive they end up at the home of a writer Mr. Frank Alexander (Patrick Magee) and his wife Mary (Adrienne Corri).

They con their way in and soon reveal their attitude to women and the “in and out” by brutally raping Mary whilst kicking Frank around on the floor. Alex belts out “Singing in the Rain” as if to illustrate the fact that this gruesome act means absolutely nothing to him…

The film’s influence on pop culture is clear throughout: the boys drink in the Korova Milk Bar (later the name of the Bunnymen’s record label) and drink Moloko cocktails (later the name of a post-acidhouse dance-pop band) and Alex goes record shopping with a band called Heaven 17 at number 3 in the charts. The record shop was the Chelsea Drugstore and it has a copy of the 2001 soundtrack prominently displayed… naturally. Alex meets a couple of young women Sonietta (Gillian Hills a proper French pop star as well as having featured in Antonioni’s Blow Up and being the teenage riot herself in Beat Girl) and her pal (Barbara Scott) and the three enjoy a famously hi-speed threesome back in Alex’s bedroom: a reference to Hills, Hemmingway and Birkin in Blow Up?

Gillian Hills spots Heaven 17 high in the charts!
In spite of their successful freewheeling horror show there are divisions in the gang and Alex’s leadership of Dim and Pete is growing weaker. The two challenge him and Alex humiliates them but the resentment only grows… After a disastrous raid on another wealthy household in which Alex accidentally kills a woman referred to only as Catlady (Miriam Karlin - a powerhouse cameo mixing yoga and physical violence) with a large porcelain phallus… the boys beat him up and leave him to be arrested.

Society takes its revenge and Alex is imprisoned and after a few years inside cultivating religion and the favour of the prison chaplain, he jumps at the chance to undertake a new treatment which aims to “cure” criminals so they can safely be returned to society without the ongoing costs of imprisonment… But it’s not a let off and the process involves aversion therapy of the most unrelentingly brutal kind as – eyelids forced open – Alex is forced to watch hour after hour of horrific images until, literally, violence, sex and evil make him sick.

Will his liberty be worth the loss of his emotional freedom?
In truth there’s too much narrative detail to accurately summarise the film; you could spend paragraphs on Alex’s trip to the record shop and subsequent high-speed threesome. But this film remains controversial because of its high level of content some of it I find hard to accept more particularly the violence towards women all of whom are attractive and displayed nude’… I think Kubrick goes too far, you don’t have to be so graphic.

At the time Kubrick was blamed for so-called copycat violence and ended up pulling the film after he and his family were threatened with an attack on their home aimed at replicating the film’s domestic invasion, assault and rape. It was too much and the film wasn’t screened again in the UK until after the director’s passing in 1999.

Every boy needs a hobby and a pet they can relate to...
A Clockwork Orange is unpleasant but essential watching for anyone serious about film and its socio-political context; almost half a century on it’s still in your face, challenging the watcher to examine their own reactions and to stay watchful. That is hard core and nothing has even come close in popular culture until the dawn of the social media troll… Threats were more serious in the seventies perhaps or maybe we’re just more used to the de-civilising impact of technology.

The Moog music score of Walter, later Wendy, Carlos remains unsettling too:  a “tomorrow’s world” of sound that now signals a parallel universe of the musical future.

The film opens on 5th April at the BFI and there’s a full listing of where to see it across the UK on the BFI website: it’s unmissable but it comes with consequences. Malcolm McDowell will also be present for a post-screening Q&A and in conversation on 5th.

The film also heralds a Kubrick season and I'm especially looking forward to the hopefully more genteel Barry Lyndon! Full details on the BFI site here.