Letter To Brezhnev (1985)

You can read my review at The Geek Show

Number One (1985)

Number One is a film I used to watch this one all the time back in the day, in my early twenties. It's a real lads film, a post pub fave with a plethora of talent both in front of the screen and off.

Written by GF Newman and directed by Mike Leigh's schoolfriend Les Blair - the team that gave you Law and Order and The Nation's Health - Number One was, like those mini-series, originally commissioned as a TV movie but it actually found its way to the cinemas instead. Focusing on the world of sport and clearly influenced by Alex 'Hurricane' Higgins, Newman's tale concerns an Irish rogue adrift in London and scratching a living playing snooker in dingy clubs and halls and the odd bit of action on the wrong side of the law who turns pro, impressing the audiences with his colourful performance style.

Bob Geldof stars as the lead character Harry 'Flash' Gordon who eyes a chance out of his troubles with both the underworld and the law when he's spotted by local bookmaker Billy Evans (Mel Smith) and his whispering minder Mike The Throat (who reveals his vocal problems stem from receiving a blow from a hammer to his throat during a fight) played by PH Moriarty. They think they've got the next big thing and a nice little earner, but Flash's unkempt and untameable nature - breaking and throwing cues around, turning up late, needling his opponents - creates headaches in the professional sporting arena, as does the constant threat of two bent cops who are after nicking Flash played by Alfred Molina and James 'A Clockwork Orange' Marcus.

Cheap and cheerful working class London movie which blends sport with petty crime and has the courage to point out the illegalities in the game itself, Number One boasts an impressive supporting cast including both Alison Steadman as Geldof's prostitute love interest and Kate Hardie as his schoolgirl love interest! Then there's Ian Dury as a local stick up man, David Howey as the established snooker rival, Phil Daniels as a boxing promoter, Ray Winstone as one of lads down the boozer and Alun Armstrong as a Blackpool Bobby.  Add to that we have cameos from the likes of the great snooker commentator Ted Lowe and referee John Williams whilst Joe Fagin and Dave Mackay of Auf Wiedersehen Pet soundtrack fame provides the toe-tapping score.

Lovely jubbly.

Letter To Brezhnev (1985)

Call me a sentimental old northerner, but the opening to Letter to Brezhnev remains one of my favourite moments of celluloid. Whilst budgetary constraints mean that it may not be as epic as it clearly wants to be, it nevertheless understands that Liverpool is a British city to be mythologised; we see Peter Firth and Alfred Molina's Russian sailors on deck in the last stretches of the Irish Sea, excited to clap eyes on the wondrous Three Graces of Liverpool by the evening light. Accompanied by Alan Gill's (Teardrop Explodes, Dalek I Love You) soaring score, the camera sweeps across the remaining stretch of water to rise up across the city skyline.

It's the perfect love letter to the city. 

And overall, Chris Bernard's film, from a script by Frank Clarke (adapted from his own stage play), continues to be the almost perfect love letter to Liverpool. Alexandra Pigg and Margi Clarke (Frank's sister) star as two salt of the earth Kirkby girls, Elaine and Teresa - the former a dreamer and the latter a realist - who optimistically head out into Liverpool one night whereupon they meet Peter (Firth) and Sergei (Molina) on shore leave. 

Whilst the brassy Teresa enjoys a simple night of orgiastic pleasure with Sergei, Elaine finds something deeper with the more sensitive Firth. Like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, come the next day the Russians have to reboard their ship and head back beyond the iron curtain, leaving Elaine heartbroken and lovesick, her only option to fix matters being the titular 'letter to Brezhnev'; a plea to be reunited with the man she loves.

It's a far from perfect film, it's rather naive and all too often it betrays its shoddy budget (Margi Clarke famously announced it was made for the equivalent of "the cocaine budget on Rambo") but it's heart is always in the right place. Its a film about daring to dream and having the courage to break out from the doldrums of Thatcher's Britain for love - even if that love just so happens to be in Soviet Russia. 

What helps Letter to Brezhnev is the vibrant, energetic and exuberant performances from the cast which belie the brittle nature of the characters they portray. It's a film blessed with tough, rough charm and perhaps an unexpected romcom sweetness that has proven to be deeply influential in the years that followed (that first episode of Gavin and Stacey anyone?) Margi Clarke was never better than she was here and Peter Firth and Alexandra Pigg make the most affecting of star-crossed lovers.