Behind The Mask (1958)

Notable for being Vanessa Redgrave's cinematic debut, Behind The Mask is a fairly accurate and engrossing, albeit somewhat slow-moving, look at the life of a newly qualified surgeon and the old boys network that exists within the NHS.

Tony Britton stars as our hero, Philip Selwood, a freshly qualified surgical registrar on the firm of the respected but ailing consultant Sir Arthur Benson Gray, played by Michael Redgrave. Selwood is also engaged to his mentor's daughter, Pamela (Vanessa Redgrave) which makes them rather tight, until an issue of malpractice within the hospital rears its head.

Carl Möhner co-stars as Dr Carl Romek, a Polish anaesthetist who is something of an outsider from 'The Pack' (the title of the novel by John Rowan Wilson that this film is based on) whom Selwood takes pity on and becomes rather friendly with. It's clear from the off that Romek is a troubled individual; he has a tragic past thanks to his time in a concentration camp and has a habit of staring off into the distance with a faraway look in his eyes as he talks about himself, so it comes as no surprise when his former girlfriend (Brenda Bruce) reveals to Selwood that Romek is a dope-fiend, hooked on barbiturates since an accident in the camp during the war. He assures Selwood he is clean, but it's a lie and the pair enter theatre to operate on a patient, leading to devastating consequences that threaten to tear Selwood and Pamela apart...

Behind The Mask may be a trifle stiff and dated looking (not helped by the green tinge to the antiquated colour film) but its exploration of medical surgery and the old boys network/'the pack' feels suitably and worryingly authentic. It's certainly more believable and interesting than any current episode of Holby City! Of particular interest is a scene which features an example of early open-heart surgery, though quite why the observation camera prefers to concentrate on the perspiring brow of Redgrave rather than what his hands are actually doing makes a mockery of the realistic edge much of the film is striving for.

It's rather lovely to see Michael and Vanessa Redgrave playing opposite each other, replicating their real life father and daughter relationship. Indeed there's a great cast on display here overall, even though some of them have very little to do (hello, Lionel Jeffries) I especially liked Ian Bannen as a whitecoat forever cadging cigarettes off his colleagues. Oh and eagle eyed viewers will spot a certain William Roache aka Ken Barlow pacing around, pulling on cigarettes in a couple of early scenes as a young doctor. I may be wrong but I think this might be his only other credit aside from Coronation Street which he has been in since the very first episode in 1960. 

Kudos too for realistically conveying the ethnic diversity inherent within the British medical world and how the NHS welcomed immigrants from the commonwealth and the like because of their talents and dedication; something which has stupidly come under threat thanks to the Brexit vote.

Yanks (1979)

It's been a while since I last saw Yanks. In my head, there's a memory of watching it on the BBC one Sunday afternoon but I can't be sure how correct that memory actually is now because, having rewatched it, some of the language is definitely post watershed. 

Nevertheless there is a BBC Sunday afternoon vibe to Yanks, John Schlesinger's film from a Colin Welland and Walter Bernstein script which explores the culture clash and sometimes uneasy relationship between billeted GI's and the locals in the rural north of England during WWII, which made it quite a fitting watch for today.

Yanks is a film not about war itself, or rather not about fighting and battles, but about relationships and the effects that war has on the home front; homesickness, loneliness, tragedy, boredom and inconvenience. It's a three stringed storyline concerning a trio of couples -  the gentle affair between the married upper class Vanessa Redgrave and American officer William Devane; Lisa Eichhorn's virginal daughter of the local postmaster whose engaged to her childhood sweetheart (a pre-Casualty Derek Thompson) away at the front, and Richard Gere's American mess sergeant whose mutual attraction blossoms into a dangerous passion; and lastly Wendy Morgan's funny and flighty clippie and Chick Vennera's loveable putz of an Army cook. 

It's fair to say that Morgan and Vennera get the shortest shrift, relegated to little more than comic relief when the script actually remembers them. They're lively enough but their roles are specifically that of 'the best friends' of the characters in our central romance; Gere and Eichhorn. Richard Gere finds the politeness, sensitivity and decency inherent in his character, but either underplays or is simply too naive to perform anything else that he ultimately robs the film of its required emotional impact. Far better is Lisa Eichhorn, an American actress and former Oxford scholar who convinced Schlesinger that she was in fact English to gain the role. She's very persuasive here and wonderfully sweet as a young girl torn between her commitment to her absent fiance and the 'exotic' soldier who has captured her heart, even if you do just want to shake her character from time to time.

I do find myself wishing that more of the film was given over to Redgrave and Devane's affair, but that longing might be more down to the fact that they are both actors with a natural charisma that can rise above the material they're working with. Devane is effortlessly cool, yet his admirable intentions in his gentlemanly courtship of Redgrave are never in doubt, whilst Redgrave positively shines in her role.

It's perhaps what appears in the background that is Yanks biggest draw; the Lancashire and Yorkshire scenery and period production design is a superb joy, as is the supporting actors who invest Welland's dry northern wit with the requisite twinkle. Eichhorn's family are a particular standout, with Tony Melody and Rachel Roberts as her postmaster and postmistress parents, with the latter having an effective line in a weary mental stability, and child actor Martin Smith as her little kid brother. 

Dear old Derek Thompson, very young-looking here, plays her ill-fated betrothed Ken with the beginnings of that 'not-looking-you-straight-in-the-eye' acting technique he is the key proponent of. It has its critics, but you know what? It actually makes his character a damn sight more enigmatic and interesting in the brief screentime he gets than Gere manages as the lead throughout. The rest of the cast of locals is filled out with familiar faces such as Emmerdale's Paula Tilbrook and Last of the Summer Wine's Joe Gladwin.

Yanks is a genteel and authentic experience throughout its 130 minute running time, only once tripping up to tackle the issue of prejudice between white and black GI's. It's an important issue and one worthy of addressing, but I do think Schlesinger muffs it a little with a cringingly obvious set up that sees the camera pick out racist at the New Years Dance long before anything actually occurs. It's the kind of glaringly obvious signposting that means what follows is less than subtle and so therefore somewhat at odds with the rest of the film.

Vanessa Redgrave: Still Fighting The Good Fight

She may be 79, but it's admirable to see that age has not mellowed or softened Vanessa Redgrave who still passionately believes in addressing social injustice as her appearance on the junior doctors picket lines proved yesterday

Wearing a Support Junior Doctors T Shirt (which you can, like me, buy here) she showed solidarity with the junior doctors, addressing them to denouncing the Tory government who had treated them 'like dirt' by imposing this contract upon them. It was like rolling back the years to the '70s when Redgrave and her late brother Corin were mainstays of The Workers Revolutionary Party

Redgrave addressing the crowds in 1974

Here she is with Corin meeting Pilkingtons Glass worker and union rep Gerry Caughey in 1971, a man who my dad worked alongside for many years.(above pictures from the World Socialist Website)

It's truly great to see the left figuring so prominently in politics once more, even though it's clear that this resurgence is sadly because people's liberties are being slowly and cruelly eroded by this corrupt Tory government. Redgrave had also visited the Doctors Without Borders base at the Piraeus refugee camp last week - proving that her politics still mean much to her.

If you believe in the NHS and hate what this government are doing with it, then please show your support with the junior doctors. Buy a T-shirt, honk your car horn if you pass a picket line, or even visit a picket yourself. I did the other month and, believe me, they want to know that we are on their side. It makes their day.

Agatha (1979)

I grew up reading Agatha Christie novels and was a big fan well into my mid teens. I also enjoyed the adaptations of her novels, so I was always a little disappointed that this biopic based on the intriguing, mysterious brief disappearance of the author in 1926, proved just as elusive to me during my days of fandom as Christie herself was for those 11 days AWOL. It was just never on TV, so I never got around to watching Agatha until now.

It wasn't worth the wait alas. Maybe I'd have appreciated more when I was an avid Christie reader (I must admit its been some twenty years since I last picked up a novel of hers) but where I've seen other reviews call this movie respectful and reserved, I felt it deserved another description; anemic. 

It's so disappointing how this movie squanders what remains to this day a fascinating puzzle. We can accept that, faced with her husband's desire for a divorce, Christie fled from the world, adopted the alias of Teresa Neele (the surname of her husband's lover) and booked into a hydropathic hotel in Harrogate. It might not be our own first course of action, granted but it is perhaps an understandable one. When she resurfaced, her actions remained shrouded in mystery, with two doctors diagnosing a Fugue state of amnesia and no mention of the events in her autobiography. But what did she actually do in those 11 days? What was she thinking? What was truly her state of mind?

Kathleen Tynan's novel - on which this film is based, the author co-writing the screenplay with Arthur Hopcroft, the man responsible for the BBC's adaptation of John Le Carre's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - proposes that Christie was not necessarily running away, but was in fact carefully and coldly plotting something. In itself this is an interesting theory, but the film ultimately cannot concentrate on its own supposition and distracts itself by an ill advised romance/connection it saddles itself with between Vanessa Redgrave's Christie and Dustin Hoffman's wholly fictitious visiting American journalist Wally Stanton, hot on her trail.  

It's a stilted ponderous production that really could have benefited from a much more droll, knowing and wicked approach concerning the author and how her homicidal, violent imagination seems to be impinging upon her reality, but all life is utterly squeezed out of the film despite a relatively fine performances from Redgrave, who depicts Christie as a subdued, bruised eccentric, and an OK one from Hoffman as a stiffbacked, confident motormouth, even if he does seem a little out of place in an English period drama.

The puzzling location shoot - merging Harrogate in Yorkshire (where Christie turned up) with Bath in Somerset - doesn't help matter either.

Steaming (1985)

Nell Dunn, writer of groundbreaking '60s hits Up The Junction and Poor Cow, become something of a cause celebre in 1981 with her West End play Steaming, which offered a frank and funny expose of female camaraderie often sans clothes - thanks to the play's setting; a crumbling Turkish bathhouse in London.  

If you wanted to know what women were like in private, behind closed doors, reviewers claimed, then Steaming was the eye opening play for you.

But beneath such a determinedly categorising comment lies a play that is authentic, honest, poignant and warmly funny, as we see six strong and varied female characters congregate for their weekly ablutions and pampering, sharing intimate and often sexual stories, their dreams and concerns and, ultimately, offering them the chance to find friendship and shoulders to cry on. It's an easy metaphor, but it is effective - the steam room affords them a naked honesty, releasing them of all facades and inhibitions and allowing them to be themselves, away from society and its prying eyes.

Patricia Losey delivered a screenplay that was extremely faithfully to Dunn's original stageplay, whilst her husband Joseph Losey shows a commitment to the original staging in his direction by refusing to open up the play - a temptation others may have fallen for - in any way shape or form. Tragically, Steaming is notable now for being the final film for both Joseph Losey and for one of its stars, the great Diana Dors, as both died after filming. Dors appears her as the bathhouse's attendant and is very much the surrogate mother for all her clientele. It's a great, notable and fitting role for the legendary blonde bombshell to end on,  a world away from the monstrous matrons she fell into playing in her later years, this role recalls some of her former glamour but fittingly provides her with the opportunity to cut a weary yet dependable, mature and sympathetic figure.  

The clientele are a suitably broad canvas, ranging from middle class to working class ladies. The former is represented by Sarah Miles and Vanessa Redgrave appearing as old friends recently reunited, whilst Patti Love, Brenda Bruce and Felicity Dean appear as the latter. Class is immaterial however when clothes are removed and the communal nature of the setting is integral to the piece. When the bathhouse is faced with the inevitable closure notice, making way for a suitably '80s and therefore deeply impersonal leisure centre, we see just how much of a lifeline this weekly visit is for each woman and palpably so. All of the cast equip themselves well, delivering Dunn's eavesdroppingly authenic dialogue with great gusto and relish, but its Patti Love's character who perhaps remains with you. On the surface, she's the chirpy good time girl who can never say no, even when the relationship she is in proves to be extremely abusive, but its clear, we soon see, that she possesses a soul that her skin has the impossible challenge of trying to cover. 

If you like faithful stage to screen adaptations then Steaming comes warmly recommended, however if you prefer your films to be more filmic then the chances are this particular experience may leave you cold.

See for yourself on YouTube

Wetherby (1985)

"Turns out I was a subplot. The real story was happening elsewhere"

Wetherby, David Hare's haunting yet not altogether balanced 1985 film, is an attempt to create intelligent and poetic theatrical drama in the context of the cinema.

On the surface, Wetherby is about a stranger (Tim McInnerny) who comes to the titular Yorkshire town and inveigles his way into a private dinner party before returning the next day to commit suicide in front of his hostess (Vanessa Redgrave)

Much of the film concerns itself not only in the subsequent police investigation and Redgrave and her small social circle (which includes Judi Dench, Ian Holm and Tom Wilkinson) coming to terms with what happened, with each witness statement offering up a news glimpse into what happened at the dinner party, Rashomon style.  

This plot point poses some intriguing and thought provoking questions; not only that of why did he choose to kill himself in such a way but also why does the death of a stranger, someone seemingly unknown, affect people so greatly? Hare's film, with an elliptical grace, explores the introspective here and suggests a loneliness and a sense of stagnation within Redgrave's principal character which will steadily reveal itself before the resolution. Like a game of 'Find The Lady' you'd do well to not completely focus on what it seems you are expected to focus on, one needs to looks beyond the shocking suicide of McInnerny and the subsequent red herring of the girl he harassed and stalked showing up, played by the wonderful Suzanna Hamilton. 

Indeed there's far more than initially meets the eye here as exemplified in the Redgrave character's flashbacks to her youth (where she is played by Natasha Richardson, Redgrave's daughter) and her love affair with a pilot heading out to Malaya. 

There's also the latent political content to consider, namely Hare's attempt to examine and explore the culture of the impersonal, which he saw as a key aspect of Thatcher's Britain, a tone he tried to invoke within the film.

Overall Wetherby may be a little uneven, it may beguile and frustrate audiences in equal measure but it has to be applauded for offering something so deep and intelligent away from the theatre and into the cinema.

Festive Frights On BBC2 - Part Two

Alongside the Hammer horrors, BBC2 also produced two brand new chillers for our entertainment over Christmas....

You have to love Mark Gatiss, a supremely talented bugger, he endeavours to single handedly or collaboratively bring back all that was good in the tradition of television; Doctor Who, Sherlock and now the Ghost Story for Christmas - an adaptation of MR James' The Tractate Middoth for BBC2 Christmas Day.

In truth it's not the first time Gatiss has tried to resurrect the Ghost Story For Christmas formula, having previously given us The Crooked House, a story of his own devising, for BBC4 a few years ago. But its perhaps this adaptation that hopefully brings it back to the fore, given that it was also granted a companion piece; a documentary about MR James hosted by Gatiss immediately after he'd scared the bejesus out of us.

The Tractate Middoth is a rich and suitably chilling story for a late Christmas evening, with only the tree lights and the fireside flickering and a glass of something by your side. I don't normally consider myself fearful of spiders (unlike James himself, a notorious arachnophobe) but I had quite a clammy frisson of fear for the arachnid watching this  and shudder at the thought of one crossing my face now! Likewise dust motes, something so ordinary can cause a chill here. 

It's a reverential and well drawn adaptation in Gatiss' scriptwriting and directorial hands. The casting is strong with Sacha Dhawan in the central role whilst his fellow young players include Nicholas Burns and Charlie Clemmow, but its perhaps in the casting of the more mature roles that Gatiss not only excels but betrays his love of nostalgia; Roy Barraclough gives the piece some comic relief, as does Una Stubbs (previously employed by Gatiss for Sherlock) whilst 70s classical actor hunk John Castle, the divine Eleanor Bron, David Ryall (playing the very definition of a wicked old bugger) and Louise Jameson (70s Doctor Who companion, The Omega Factor and Bergerac star - a clear favourite of Gatiss) all grandly fill out the rest of the cast. For the record Jameson's striking ice blue eyes still look amazing and even better in HD.


It's a simple story well told that maintains the tradition of less is more when it comes to scares. The last scene featuring Castle for example bears all the hallmarks of the classic 70s ghost story adaptations.

Well we were rather promised 'A Ghost Story at Christmas' with The Tractate Middoth but, good though that was, it was the second new chilly offering from BBC2, The Thirteenth Tale (based on the novel by Diane Setterfield) that trumped it entirely.

An utterly engrossing atmospheric Gothic and psychological chiller, The Thirteenth Tale pitted two glorious actresses together; Vanessa Redgrave, whose brittle frail elder stateswoman was perfect to embody the cancer ridden and mysterious writer Vida Winter, and Olivia Colman, the national treasure at the height of her powers as Margaret Lea, her inquisitive biographer summoned to the Moors to hear Vida's life story - a life story that was strange, chilling and full of twists and turns. Both gave brilliant performances that made it impossible to tear your eyes from the screen. Likewise, the film's flashback narrative was also populated by great actors  like Robert Pugh, Tom Goodman-Hill, Alexandra Roach, Sophie Turner and Antonia Clarke and indeed, the most harshly horrific moments occur here.

The narrative itself was slow moving, allowing the actors to tell the story and sinuously grip a hold of you, pulling you like quicksand into the dark atmosphere and enveloping you totally in the prickly unflinching mystery and scares.

An eerie story of grief, jealousy, incest, murder and the peculiar dynamic of twins, The Thirteenth Tale was tense, harsh and often almost too unsettling and unhappy to bear. Never a comfortable watch, it was damn entertaining nonetheless. If I had to pick holes, it was perhaps inevitable that the required rationality of the final act made it far less compelling than all the suspense and mystery that came before it, but that's just a minor quibble concerning one of the season's TV highlights.

Song For Marion (2012)

I feel like I'm kicking an adorable big eyed puppy dog when I say that Song For Marion was a big disappointment.

Terence Stamp, Vanessa Redgrave, Christopher Eccleston and for me, the fittest actress around right now Gemma Arterton make for an impressive leading quartet.  I really wanted to like this. So where did it all go wrong?

The plot concerns Marion (Redgrave) a terminally ill pensioner and her husband, the grumpy taciturn Arther (Stamp) Marion attends a local choir group run by local, lonely schoolteacher Elizabeth (Arterton), making friends and finding a new lease of life in her last days - something that Arthur struggles to comprehend until slowly, following a tragedy, he finds himself drawn towards the group and his bitterness towards it and his grown up son James (Eccleston) ultimately thaws.

Song For Marion shamelessly tugs at the heartstrings in a manner that makes it all too mawkish and thoroughly predictable. You cannot help but think you've seen this film before, so familiar are the tropes of teary set pieces, feelgood moments and against all odds scenarios the cast of characters are forced to go through. I'm quite a sucker for a sad story and have been known to blub like a newborn at many a film and TV show, but this just doesn't have the necessary heart or spark to engage. It just feels a bit flat, and the over familiarity means you can't help but think you're just expected to laugh here or cry there. It's also extremely poorly written at times, with Gemma Arterton (not very convincing as a friendless wallflower) having to endure dialogue so unnatural and awkward when simply spitting out her character biography to Terence Stamp. Who talks like this in real life?

Also, I just don't find the sight of elderly character actors dressed in outlandish rocker and rapper gear, gurning and singing off key to Ace Of Spades and Let's Talk About Sex as hilarious as the film would like me to. I actually find it a bit patronising to older people, who would surely make up the biggest section of the film's intended audience. Song For Marion is certainly in the newly discovered field of attracting the grey pound at the cinema, much like The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and Quartet.  Now, I liked The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, but this is such a letdown. It's only the calibre of cast and at times a truly affecting poignant performance from Terence Stamp that make it worth watching. It's by no means a bad film, but equally it is not a good one either. A shame because as I say, I really wanted to like this.

Coriolanus (2011)

This is a largely enjoyable modernisation of one of Shakespeare's timeless tragedies (I would say it's a generally lesser known or appreciated work yet I believe TS Eliot rated it higher than Hamlet no less) helmed by first time director Ralph Fiennes who equally and impressively takes centre stage before the camera as Coriolanus.

The film preserves the setting of Rome in all but name; it is clear that Fiennes is really concerning himself with the Bosnian conflict of recent years. With his Coriolanus and Brian Cox's Menenius mirroring the relationship of Arkan and Milosevic. The atmosphere and setting is truly gripping, the crumbling granite of war zones beneath grey portentous skies bearing witness to Shakespeare's original dialogue between moments of Black Hawk Down style action.

Despite there being much to enjoy there is also some truly head scratching judgements too, largely in the casting. I had heard reservations about the casting of James Nesbitt, but since his character, Sicinius, is meant to be a smug self promoting weasel I didn't see that as too much of a problem. No, my main complaint was casting Gerard Butler as the leader of the Volscians Aufidius - essentially representing the Bosnian rebels of that conflict - a one note actor whose presence cannot hope to match the incendiary performance from Fiennes and so their circling of one another always seems somewhat ill matched. Worse, his ever 'reliable' mangled vocal delivery does much to destroy and make incoherent both the text's subtle nuances and most powerful statements.

Still, there is far more reliable and staunch support from the likes of Vanessa Redgrave who is utterly jaw dropping as Fiennes mother, the aforementioned Brian Cox, Jessica Chastain, Paul Jesson, John Kani etc and even Channel 4's Jon Snow pops up - That was fun! I can well imagine this enlivening English lessons in schools up and down the country.

The Devils

"It's my most political film, indeed it's my only political film"

- Ken Russell

Just watched the BFI's double disc release of the original UK X rated cut of the film. It's not the cut Ken intended (we still don't have Vanessa Redgrave's Sister Jeanne masturbating with the charred phallic femur of Oliver Reed's Father Grandier in the closing scenes, nor do we have the infamous 'Rape Of Christ' scene; the climax of the sham exorcism/nun's orgy - though each is alluded too and briefly seen in the excellent Mark Kermode documentary on disc 2) but it's the best we are going to get.

I'm not going to review the film or discuss it at length because to be honest I've a feeling anyone frequenting this blog will probably already know well enough. I'll just say this, The Devils is a masterpiece, the most visually striking film of the 1970s and still holds the power to shock, sadden and enrage.