Peeping Emeric… Miracle in Soho (1957), BFI, Cinema Unbound

“The more I saw of the district the more extraordinary it began to appear to me… I soon realised that, as with most places in the world today, the unusual events and happenings in life were taken for granted…” 

Emeric Pressburger

  

I was all ready to go with the angle that, by some act of cinematic synchronicity, both Powell and Pressburger turned to the subject of Soho when, towards the end of their collaboration they started dating other filmmakers. But no… although in some ways yes. Pressburger had originally written what became The Miracle in St Anthony’s Lane about a group of German exiles in Paris in 1934 before changing it to London after migrating here. The script was sold and resold during the 30s but it only made it to screen in 1957 directed by Julian Aymes and not his partner for almost two decades.

 

Powell thought the story lacked substance and that they had covered some of the ground in films like AMOLAD and Blimp leaving, as Kevin Gough-Yates suggested in Sight and Sound (Dec 1995), only the bare bones of the idea of a special love and two people connecting almost immediately in an almost mystical way. Whether or not there is an actual miracle in the film is open to debate and if there is, surely it’s the way that John Gregson’s character Michael Morgan, decides to stop running and open himself up to the risk and possible reward of a life with Belinda Lee’s Julia Gozzi, an Italian immigrant who is due to move on herself with her family to Canada.

 

Seeing so many of Pressburger’s films in such a short space of time in this Season of All Seasons, his interest in the immigrant experience is clear and even across a span of 22 years his intentions with this film were, as always, to show how immigrant communities find common ground and grow together united by faith, retailing, hospitality and everyday human experience as well as the inevitability of road works. They’re also united by the GPO or Royal Mail as it’s now known with local postie, Sam Bishop (the protean Cyril Cusack who, only last Monday, was pure evil, scheming the downfall of That Elusive Pimpernel) who also doubles up as local Salvation Army captain. He's such a good observer of character and motivation, you see exactly why he was fascinated by Soho's mix of people.

 

Cyril Cusack's postie maintains order

The impact of Michael Morgan is felt even before he arrives as a vengeful husband arrives to deck one of the workmen, also called Michael, in the mistaken belief that he’s the man who was making merry with his Suzie. Then a young woman called Maggie (young Billie Whitelaw!) arrives in search of Michael, who tells her she’s misunderstood their relationship “this is the way it was with us…” he says, she has deceived herself as he’s never less than frank about his golden rule of engagement, one purely based on the location of his work and nothing more… besides, he’s already got his eyes on the tight sweater of barmaid Gladys (Barbara Archer).

 

Michael is part of a group of workers called in to re-lay the tarmac on St Andrew’s Lane, a made-up street in a studio-bound Soho. The massive sets, designed by Oscar-winner Carmen Dillon, evoke a London of time just past – lots of familiar brands in the pet shop but with long gone beers in the pub: you’ll have to go to The Coach and Horses on Greek Street, or the Edgar Wallace off Fleet Street to see still-extant advertising for Double Diamond and other lost ales.

 

It’s a street full of the new influx of immigrants who helped build Britain from the thirties onwards, who opened restaurants, hairdressers, dance studios and shops of every type to bring vibrancy to the streets. There’s a harmony in the film’s Soho that may not have been entirely matched by contemporary reality but Pressburger wasn’t just an optimist he had been welcomed by this country as had many others. It’s a lost world in many ways but surviving from this time there is still the French House, Bar Italia, Maison Bertaux (from 1871) and a few others.

John Gregson and Barbara Archer

 

Michael sets about hammering the old road up and befriending his workmates whilst arranging to view Gladys’ sweater in closer quarters. He has to make a quick exit as they are interrupted by the arrival of her boyfriend Filippo Gozzi (Ian Bannen at his most un-Scottish) an intense young man who manages a wine merchants and is intent on marrying Gladys. Filippo is part of an Italian family whose father (Peter Illing) plans on moving them all to Canada to find a new life. Daughter Mafalda (Rosalie Crutchley) is the eldest and resolved to marrying a convenient man whilst youngest Julia (Belinda Lee) is still to be disappointed by life – she is not ready to compromise.

 

Naturally Julia catches Michael’s attention and the question will be whether she will be just another “best girl in the street” for the itinerant Romeo or whether he’ll finally be brought to ground and, even if he is, will anything stop her joining the family exodus to Canada?

 

Viewed on its own terms and without the baggage of Archers expectation, Miracle is a very likeable and effective film and, filmed almost entirely on Carmen Dillon’s huge sets in Pinewood’s Stage A, there’s a cosiness that focuses on the human interactions and which suggests that this is more fantasy than reality whereas Peeping Tom’s staged settings have the opposite effect entirely. Emeric was looking to show diversity in action bound by the commonality of experience, Michael was digging deeper into the psych of cinema’s creators and the audience, making voyeurs of us all just like Hitchcock. That said, I’ll take on anyone who says Peeping Tom is any more vicious than Psycho; Alfred was always more perverse than Michael.

 

Belinda Lee

There are good performances from Crutchley, Bannen and Cusack as you’d expect whilst Belinda Lee is charming enough to anchor any wanderer’s affections.  Scouser John Gregson pushes the envelope on his natural likability and, whilst his Irish accent frequently deserts him, he’s spot on as decency takes hold. There’s also an interesting relationship with his own father, played by granite-faced Wilfred Lawson, the kind of tough-hearted man that survived work and war with an unyielding hardness that took generations to soften. Michael might well be a softer lad than he thought and as he sits alone on a Saturday night listening to the radio broadcast of the classical concert Julia has gone to, his old man scoffs, drinking his tea from his saucer. The film has "class" too, Pressburger knew "us" so well.

 

The presence of regular collaborators, cinematographer Christopher Challis and composer Brian Easdale adds to the Archers’ feel but as with any well-tuned duo, it feels like there’s something missing and for all Powell’s efforts on Tom, most of the films he would make without Pressburger would feel that way too. I’m looking at you, The Honeymooners and you The Queen’s Guards. Miracle in Soho as sweet a film as Peeping Tom is a disturbing one; different aims and different outcomes… one heart-warmingly good film, the other a terrifying masterpiece that shook British critical opinion to the core and saw Mr Powell out of the director’s chair for all too long.

 

We watched the BFI’s gorgeous National Archive 35mm print which, despite a few issues here and there with the sound, ran through the gates in a very satisfying way. When was the last time this film was screened on film? When will it be shown again? Thank you BFI!

 

 

Emeric alone… Miracle in Soho (1957)

It’s 1957 and the greatest team in British cinema history has reached the end with Ill Met by Moonlight; Michael Powell will go on to make Peeping Tom and leave for Australia eventually finding Helen Mirren and James Mason on a beach. But what of Mr Pressburger, the man who contributed at least as much to put the arch in The Archers?

Miracle in Soho was directed by Julian Amyes from a script Pressburger had originally written in 1934  it does actually feel like half of a P&P film in spite of the contribution from two of their main collaborators: cinematographer Christopher Challis and composer Brian Easdale (not to mention Cyril Cusack). That doesn’t make it a bad film though; it’s a very interesting film even if, at this remove, it’s hard to tell how authentic the Soho in the picture was: when did the pet shops and Salvation Army get replaced by “models” and clip joints?

A glimpse of your actual Soho and then on set

The film is a celebration of multi-cultural London written by a Hungarian Jew who had only arrived in this country a few years earlier. Had he been welcomed or was he, in the manner of A Canterbury Tale, calling for a jot more tolerance by evoking the natural inclusivity of “Britishness”? There’s redemption for everyone by welcoming in others to help, supporting each other, solidarity with mates and a church that not only holds family together but can also summon convenient ruptures in the water supply…

Entirely British

Lead character Michael Morgan (John Gregson who’s nicotine-stained hand reveals perhaps a far more anxious character than the one he is playing) is very much an island; picking up and discarding girlfriends in every street he works and moving on relentlessly not wishing to be tied down by the responsibility of genuine affection.

The negative impact of this is seen in the opening scenes as firstly a vengeful husband arrives to deck one of the workmen, also called Michael, in the mistaken belief that he’s the man who was making merry with his Suzie. Then a young woman called Maggie (a youthful Billie Whitelaw – so classy at any age) arrives in search of Michael, who tells her she’s misunderstood their relationship “this is the way it was with us…” he says, man-splaining (as my daughter would say) his dispassionate view of their open engagement, one purely based on the location of his work and nothing more… besides, he’s already got his eyes on the tight sweater of barmaid Gladys (Barbara Archer).

Billie and Babara at the bar

Michael is part of a group of workers called in to relay the tarmacadam on St Andrew’s Lane, a made up street in a studio-bound Soho. The massive sets, designed by Oscar-winner Carmen Dillon, evoke a London of time just past – lots of familiar brands in the pet shop but with long gone beers in the pub: you’ll have to go to The Coach and Horses on Greek Street to see still-extant advertising for Double Diamond and other lost ales.

Cyril Cusack looks over The War Cry to disapprove...

It’s a street full of the new influx of immigrants who helped build Britain from the thirties onwards, who opened restaurants, hairdressers, dance studios and shops of every type to bring vibrancy to the streets. There’s a harmony in the film’s Soho that may not have been entirely matched by contemporary reality but Pressburger wasn’t just an optimist he had been welcomed by this country as had many others and – surviving from this time there is still the French House, Bar Italia and Maison Bertaux (from 1871 actually).

Cyril and Rosalie Crutchley

Michael sets about hammering the old road up and befriending his workmates whilst arranging to view Gladys’ sweater in closer quarters. He has to make a quick exit as they are interrupted by the arrival of her boyfriend Filippo Gozzi (Ian Bannen) an intense young man who manages a wine merchant's and is intent on marrying Gladys.

Filippo is part of an Italian family whose father (Peter Illing) plans on moving them all to Canada to find a new life. Daughter Mafalda (Rosalie Crutchley) is the eldest and resolved to marrying a convenient man whilst youngest Julia (Belinda Lee) is still to be disappointed by life – she is not ready to compromise.

Belinda Lee's belting smile floors John Gregson

Working his way up the street as either postman or Salvation Army “captain” is Sam Bishop (Cyril Cusack – who masters a lovely high-pitched busy-bodied tone throughout), who acts as a one man Greek chorus.

Around them are bit parts from well-known faces as expectant husbands, blondes in need and sagacious watchmen… there’s a lot of life in this street.

The actors ignore the distraction of all those ancient brands...

Naturally Julia catches Michael’s attention and the question will be whether she will be just another “best girl in the street” for the itinerant Romeo or whether he’ll finally be brought to ground and, even if he is, will anything stop her joining the family exodus to Canada?

Miracle in Soho is a gently compelling film given extra intimacy by the unreality of its camera-angled sets. There are good performances from Crutchley, Bannen and Cusack as you’d expect whilst Belinda Lee is charming enough to anchor any wanderer’s affections.  John Gregson pushes the envelope on his natural likability and, whilst his Irish accent frequently deserts him he’s spot on as decency takes hold.

The family that sings together...

With far grittier kitchen sinks just around the corner, the film looks back rather than forward but still has a cosy charm all of its own and the magic realist tone you would expect from its author and producer. Brian Easdale also delivers a nuanced score – he knew where to find the buried meanings in Emeric’s words.

The film is available at reasonable price from Movie Mail and Amazon – probably not entirely essential but if you love The Archers you will like this.

The old man prefers his tea from the saucer...me too!

Of time and the city* - Gumshoe (1971)

*Rose-tinted UK regional references warning…but please bear with me.

After back-to-back viewings of the excellent Otley (now out on US DVD – details below!) and this film, my wife informed her mother and the world in general, that I clearly wanted to go live in late 1960’s Britain. This is an outrageous slur… but may well be (partly) true… I would like to poke around the market stalls in Notting Hill Gate when they held genuine bargains, sup a pint in smoky Newcastle ale houses with Michael Caine and drive a Lotus Europa round Liverpool’s exhaust-fume coated Georgian centre.

How much do we actually want to be in the movies?

The Lotus Europa was just about my favourite car growing up and it’s great to see the lovely white model featured in Gumshoe. It’s perfect for this updated noir that transposes the Maltese Falcon to Merseyside, land of my forefathers. Flashy and fast it was a brave attempt to produce a super car but was still not quite top drawer … for that you’d need an Aston Martin DB8 or an E-Type Jaguar. But we’re also not in London or New York and this is Albert Finney we’re watching and not Humphrey Bogart.


Made in 1971, when Liverpool was still someway off hitting rock-bottom, the former second city (and I know a few who claim it’s still actually first!), provides a suitably grim setting for this wise-cracking detective story. Raymond Chandler comes to Crosby…Sam Spade drinks scotch in Scotty Road, Albert Finney meets the Albert Dock - we never know when to stop do we!

Directed by Stephen Frears (his first feature) and based on a novel by local lad Neville Smith, Gumshoe tells the tale of one Eddie Gimley part-time bingo caller, comedian and wannabe private dick. Albert Finney plays Gimley with quick-firing Bogart wit and a dodgy accent – well he is from Yorkshire after all.


His disapproving brother, William, played with menace (and an even worse Scouse accent) by Frank Findlay is a successful businessman, importing and exporting all kinds of material from his dockland base. William is married to Ellen (the monumental Billie Whitelaw – what an actress!), the Lotus’ driver and former squeeze of Eddie’s. Ellen is trapped, loving both brothers and wanting the one she can’t have.

Eddie advertises his services as a private eye and unknowingly stumbles into a genuine case – hired to take out a local academic (the sublime Caroline Seymour) who is the daughter of an influential South African. So far, so confusing, as the plot runs away with itself and everything and everyone becomes connected with each other: drug smuggling, gun running, African politics all tangled up with an occult bookshop in London and fraternal betrayal…

It packs a lot into a relatively short time and, at a distance of 40 years, feels as much a period piece as the black and white classics of post war Hollywood it apes.

Finney is excellent, accent aside, and wisecracks his way believably through the chaos. He is ably supported by a great cast including Fulton Mackay as a pro hitman and Janice Rule as the ruthless schemer behind most of the mess.

Then there's Bill Dean (who lived down the road from me in the Mersey hinterland of Maghull) who basically plays himself, as Eddie’s club boss, Tommy and a host of genuine local acts performing at The Broadway, the club where Eddie works. There are also brief cameos from a young Maureen Lipman and Wendy Richard who give Eddie the chance to flirt like Bogie with two dolly-bird Bacalls.

Lotus Europa aside though, the real star for me is the city of Liverpool. I’m biased, but the site of Georgian glories such as Gambia Terrace (John Lennon lived there awhile) and a grimy Falkner Square (now whitewashed and a little like Notting Hill North), the still teeming docks and bustling business centre (where my father worked) fills me with nostalgic civic pride.

My wife’s right but I already did live there, albeit as a boy, travelling through these scenes en route to see friends and relatives or to watch football matches. To this extent, Gumshoe provides me with a glimpse of how the grown-ups saw the city. How my parents would have taken it for granted as much as Eddie does.

But Gumshoe works on its own merits and you don’t have to be a soft scouse sentimentalist to appreciate the dialogue, performances and the direction. This is a bold attempt to claim “drama” for a British city in the same way that American films do with ease. These events could happen here – you don’t have to be in LA or Chicago - and they could happen to anyone.

Ultimately the dreamer at the heart of the story becomes a man of action who ends up finding a more certain course for himself and doing some good. Isn’t that more worthwhile than a snuff of nostalgia?

Isn’t that the place were, actually, we’d all like to be?

Gumshoe has been a bit rare over the years, but is now available in decent quality DVD. I’d urge you to try it - some of the attitudes are now unfortunate but the spirit of the thing is universal. Good wins out in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

Otley, the Tom Courtney demi-classic covered elsewhere in this blog, and set a few years’ earlier in swinging London, is also now on DVD. Basic but good quality.

I’d recommend both for hopeless time-travellers, fans of English cities when grime was king and lovers of artfully witty films. Order them now sweetheart, you won’t regret it, not today and certainly not tomorrow or soon...