Showing posts with label James Kenney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label James Kenney. Show all posts

Saturday, 8 August 2020

All's fair… The Good Die Young (1954)/ When Giants Fought (1926) BFI Dual Format, out now


‘All the good boys got themselves killed in the war or should have done. The good die young; that’s what we were meant to do. But we didn’t die. Oh no – we fooled them, we stayed alive. And, worse than that, we came back. So now we’re in the way, we’re redundant. We’re not wanted.

 

Another BFI release from the post war era and one that reveals concerns from the dried-out beginnings of the 1950s with four men in desperate need of an even break and some money. For three of them, the fault is not really their own, they’ve had bad luck, whereas the fourth has made his own luck wasting away opportunity until he has nothing left but to risk the fate of others to find his fortune.

 

It's no surprise that of the actors on show, Laurence Harvey is the real bad apple, but even he comes up with a story of bitterness blaming the War in which the “good” were first to die, as the motivation for his entirely self-centred existence. As with all good noir there is so much shade but also choices to be made and few who had witnessed the sacrifice of the war generation would have much sympathy for his self-pity. The others, on the other hand all retain some relatability which makes the film especially nuanced at a time when few criminal characters could expect to get away with much in British film let alone be willed on by the decent crowd in the darkness.

Harvey, Baseheart, Ireland and Baker
 

Directed and co-scripted by Lewis Gilbert, the story is based on a novel by American writer Richard Macauley and the events transposed to austere London with a number of notable US performers including Richard Basehart and the glorious Gloria Grahame as flighty film star, Denise Blaine. Grahame gives enough here to see why she is still so highly rated; she’s got an almost out-of-time aggressiveness and her timing is superb uplifting every second she is on screen. By comparison, home-grown starlet Joan Collins seems under-powered and more than a little miscast as the rather timid Mary Halsey, a young married who just can’t escape her clinging mother.

 

For Brit-grit and screen presence look no further than Stanley Baker as down on his uppers boxer Mike Morgan, a man clinging onto a career after multiple defeats and going into his last fight with a broken hand and even his brother-in-law Dave (James Kenney, who was so memorable in Cosh Boy) betting against him. But, somehow, Mike prevails and has won enough to retire and look after his wife Angela only Dave is now deep in debt and on the run from some unforgiving gangsters… blood is thicker than water and Mike finds his funds all gone towards the preservation of lost causes.

Gloria Grahame and John Ireland
 

Talking of which, over in New York City Joe Halsey (Richard Basehart) quits his job to try and bring his wife Mary (Joan Collins) back from England where her mother (Freda Jackson) keeps on inventing illnesses and other excuses to keep her girl at home. It’s a heart-breaking choice in the best of circumstances and probably a fairly common scenario for a lot of war brides, but something has to give and there’s no way Joe can get the work he needs and Mary is pregnant, forcing the issue to a head.

 

From dreary suburbia to Knightsbridge hotels and the even unhappier life of glamourous Gloria as flighty Hollywood starlet Denise Blaine married, just about, to American airman, Eddie (John Ireland). The two are moving in increasingly elliptical orbits as she shoots in locations and he gets transferred to Germany; they were clearly equal once but now Denise is showing more interest in her co-stars.

Richard Baseheart and Joan Collins
 

The catalyst for bringing these three desperate husbands together is Harvey’s Miles 'Rave' Ravenscourt, a decorated war “hero” married to Eve Ravenscourt (Margaret Leighton) or rather her money. Rave is your classic public-school waster, disappointed in love, life, war and pretty much everything and who keeps on losing what ever money he has in gambling. Eve refuses to advance him anymore and there’s even a lovely cameo from Robert Morley as Sir Francis Ravenscourt, Rave’s exasperated father. Sir Francis gives the film’s biggest clue yet as to the soulless void behind his son’s relentless flippancy… in the eyes of post-war viewers his ceaseless betrayals surely rank as high as any more physical crime.


Rave it is who pulls the others together after the encounter each other by chance in a public house which, incidentally, is exactly the kind of pub I’ve been looking for after four months of lockdown! He gradually nudges them towards the idea of one big payday and sets out a sure-fire way to rob a post office that will bring them tens of thousands each; more than enough to set them free for a second chance.

 

Rene Ray, James Kenney and Stanley Baker

The film opens with the four of them sat in a car about to undertake the robbery and, having gone full circle, the raid takes place and their fates are played out in a breathless final segment. No spoilers, but at one point a shocked Mike observes that Rave has never seemed more alive than with a gun in his hand and with men to kill…

 

The film is that dark and Harvey’s key lines quoted at the top were cut from the British release as the BFI’s Dr Josephine Botting reveals in her booklet essay; perhaps it was felt that this was too cynical and disrespectful or maybe the powers that be felt it might strike to much of a chord? Dr Botting’s essay gives fascinating background on the production and there’s also an article on Lewis Gilbert from Peter Rankin.

Laurence Harvey and Margaret Leighton - apparently Laurie kept the pictures for "personal use"...

The set includes the worldwide home entertainment debut export version of the film an extended, alternative cut of the film – featuring material not included in the British release version. There’s also Not Like Any Other Director: Lewis Gilbert (1995) an edited excerpt from a 1995 onstage interview with the director held at the National Film Theatre with Michael Caine is on hand to introduce his friend. Gilbert directed Caine in Alfie (1966) and Educating Rita (1983), two of my favourite Michael’s!

 

As is traditional, there are also a selection of delicious shorts from the BFI archive including Midnight Taxi (1946) Norman Hemsley’s look at bustling London after dark and Under Night Streets (1958) Ralph Keene’s documentary showing how an army of workers cleans the London Underground in the four hours between close-down and rush-hour.

Frank Craig goes out to battle Tom Cribb
 

The highlight for me is When Giants Fought (1926), Harry B Parkinson’s tale about the first black contender for Britain’s heavyweight bare-knuckle boxing title in 1810. Frank Craig plays the real-life Tom Molyneaux who fought champion Tom Cribb (Joe Beckett) over 35 rounds in 1910 and, by some accounts, should have won. It is a fascinating film and Frank Craig’s plays Molyneaux with conviction and pugilistic poise.


The story uses the framing device of an old man telling tales in a Holborn alehouse many years later. He regales his audience with the battle of a sailor and soldier for the love of a country maid and this ends up being a wager on the outcome of the fight. The threesome’s reaction to the course of the fight – and the watchers in general – reveals much of the Twenties’ creative’s views of Georgian racist attitudes and some of the language on the intertitles is shocking another century on even although they also reveal which side the filmmakers were on.


In the end Molyneaux is cheated of his deserved victory by Cribb’s team and a lenient referee… and there’s a twist in the tale of love too. All’s unfair in love and boxing.

 

Another reason, if you needed one, to buy this new set. It's available from the BFI online and on the Southbank. Another winner!


Great locations too and Mr Gilbert does a grand job with creating dramatic tension and a sense of place, especially during the closing sequence! 



Wednesday, 15 January 2020

Talk on the wild side… Cosh Boy (1953), BFI Flipside hits 40, BFI screening and discussion

Cosh Boy is the 40th release in the BFI’s Flipside series that has specialised in unearthing the best and the quirkiest films from often ignored corners of the British Film industry. I have nearly a complete collection because I’m weird that way but mostly because these are amongst the most un-self-conscious prime sources of post-war films, from the post-apocalyptic satire of Richard Lester’s The Bed-Sitting Room, sneaky peaks at the sleazy side with Primitive London to neo classics like Beat Girl which make up in locations what they lack in storylines.

Flipside provides the BFI’s very own indie label and it has far more freedom to release gems simply because they’re under the radar and with little digital presence. As the BFI’s Jo Botting said in the post screening discussion, the series gives a chance to provide context for these films through related short films and booklet essays. It provides nothing less than an alternative canon of domestic films that are often significant for beyond their technical merits.

The Battersea Boys
Cosh Boy may seem like a routine post war morality tale but there’s a dark side from the introduction onwards when editorial title cards express concern over the growth of youth violence and the lack of strong parenting. It reminds me of the start of Public Enemy; a film that both glorified and condemned the American Gangster. Post-war, with so many men missing, there would have been many families with sons and mothers such as those at the centre of the story.

Pretty boy James Kenney plays Roy Walsh who is all sweetness with his trusting mother, Elsie (Betty Ann Davies) a war widow who has perhaps been “too soft” on her only son. Hard to believe that Roy’s right hand man, Alfie Collins (Ian Whittaker who is interviewed in the extras!) has got away with anything through with the brilliantly brusque Hermione Baddeley as his Mum. But Roy’s the dominant personality who just happens to be a physical coward who needs Alfie to do the coshing for him before splitting their ill-gotten gains 50:50; ten bob for Alfie and 15 for him…

James Kenney
The lads get caught after one two many muggings and get put on probation with the proviso that they behave themselves and attend the local youth club. Roy plans to use it as an alibi for their continued petty crime and brings in some more gang members including an incredibly youthful Johnny Briggs as Skinny Johnson, still two decades away from Coronation Street. Briggs, like some of the other lads was born in Battersea and it’s good to see them prowling around still recognisable streets and stations. What they’d make of the new power station complex you can only guess, but Battersea has always been one of the best locations in London.

All goes to Roy’s plan until he meets Alfie’s implausibly attractive sister Rene (Joan Collins) and ends up getting her pregnant. Roy’s not being tied down by any skirt (to use his vernacular) and Rene tries to end it all in the Thames. As the pressure on him increases, Roy grasps for ever grander plans as he decides he must strike it big and move on… but can he escape the dual forces of the long arm of the law and  the firm hand of his mother’s new husband. It is very 1952 but it can only ever be so; one of the most pointless criticisms of any work of art is that it has dated: everything dates because we’re not all engaged in “timeless” activities… Cosh Boy is revealing about the time it was made and the places and the social mores of the post-war Britain; a country increasingly like our own.

Young Joan
Whilst Flipside has renewed attention to feature films such as Don Levy’s startling Herostratus – what a febrile presence Michael Gothard was -  Peter Walker’s Man of Violence (aka Moon) which turns the genre film on its head with a fine performance from Luan Peters – much under-rated and now much missed - as well as the quite brilliant Deep End from Jerzy Skolimowskiit; it has always featured a generous amount of those contextualising extras including fascinating short films that otherwise would never see the light of day.

Tonight, we saw David Bailey’s GG Passion (1966) starring Caroline Munro and Chrissie Shrimpton as two of a series of groupies for the titular popstar (Eric Swayne) who may or may not have outlived his usefulness to The Man.You can find it as one of the extras on Stranger in the House (1967) (Flipside 037) reviewed elsewhere on this blog.

Also screened was Lindsay C Vickers The Lake (1978) in which a young couple and their dog, may, or – again – may not, have been menaced by supernatural powers; it's atmospheric and disturbing especially for dog lovers. Finally we saw Al Beresford’s Dreamhouse (1983) which has a similar scenario only set in a couple’s new house: the wife is haunted by strange sounds and images, a boy riding slilently around on a chopper bike, a man running with a bloodied kitchen knife through their hall and a young man being killed in their hall. Like the best of horror, it strikes straight to our deepest insecurities in the place where we should feel safest. It's a waking nightmare but what does it all mean for the couple? The answer almost jolted me from my seat in true vintage horror style.

After this there was a discussion between some of the BFI’s prime movers for Flipside including Sam Dunn formerly Head of BFI Video Publishing (now at Indicator), Jane Giles, formerly Head of Content, who, incidentally, has written the definitive book on the Scala Cinema, Jo Botting, Curator of the National Archive and Douglas Weir Technical Manager for DVD & Bluray. Flipsiders-in-chief, William Fowler and Vic Pratt who co-authored, The Bodies Beneath – the flipside of British film and television, led the discussion and there was an overwhelming sense of pride that they’d been able to resurrect and connect so much unseen and overlooked material. Vic and William started screening some of these films in 2006 onwards and this morphed into the home media releases starting with the Bed Sitting Room and culminating in Cosh Boy – which they urge you to buy, as do I!

Eric Swayne and friends
Doug Weir, who’s worked on every Flipside release, described how some of the source material is often degraded and you get a sense of the fragility of film and how even relatively recent films may perish. I’m used to only a small portion of silent film surviving but the problem hasn’t stopped. Nighbirds (1977) was an example of an almost unknown film that had sections missing from the 35mm print and they’d cut their only print to make the trailer. They’ve had to use VHS in some cases to plug the gaps but sometimes they find films that have never been watched and so are nearly pristine.

Sam Dunn said they wanted to focus on British film and finding ways to get more and more archive films out – shorts and documentaries. There were no hard and fast rules except for re-platforming the over-looked. Jane Giles said they wanted to expand the audience for these films and to extrapolate the value of these films’ meaning – just because these are not Odd Man Out or Powell and Pressburger, doesn’t mean that there was no good in the productions. This led to challenges in rights research as well as frequent arguments about what films to choose next, treading the fine balance between interest and marketability.

Spike looks down on the BFI Flipside team
José Ramón Larraz’s Symptoms (1974) was once on the BFI’s Top Ten Most Wanted lost films and an appeal led to a broken 35mm negative being found in Belgium and the team were able to recover. The team had differences over favourites and different ideas of what should be done next; they’re still looking for The Appointment (1981) so check your sheds and lofts… which is exactly where GG Passion was found. For the rights, Jane had to liaise with Roman Polanski’s collaborator Gene Gutowski, who had produced it whilst the crew from Repulsion also worked on the film. More of those Flipside connections.

Cosh Boy is on sale on 20th January and is great fun with superb extras – you can order it from the BFI Shop online alongwith others in this most laudable of series.

Note also that The Party's Over (1963) is unlikely to be re-issued due to rights complexities so, order it now if you haven't already got a copy!

Ian Whittaker and Hermoine Baddeley