1. My Fair Lady (1964)
2. Cleopatra (1963)
3. Anna and the King of Siam (1946)
4. The Ghost and Mrs Muir (1947)
5. Blithe Spirit (1945)
6. Night Train to Munich (1940)
7. Dr Doolittle (1967)
8. Midnight Lace (1960)
9. Major Barbara (1941)
10. The Rake's Progress (1945)
From that mid 30s period at Gaumont British where they tried to take on America and actually had some success. This is a Devil's Island picture on not set on Devil's Island due to censorship instead there are British accented officers, German Conrad Veidt is a prisoner, there are Spanish names.
The script is credited to Charles Bennett and Sidney Gilliat, two of the best British screenwriters, and it does move at a fair clip. It builds up satisfyingly to a mutiny but then punches are pulled. The romance with Veidt and a woman isn't great. The finale is a little confusing with there being a counter attack and a flat resolution with Veidot going off to appear at a trial - he should've died or something.
Bright lively thriller which was I think the first time Launder and Gilliat worked together as a writing team. It's very well directed by Albert de Courville, a person about whom I know little. I loved the opening with a maquerade ball and a death. It's very slickly done.
The star duo of Edmund and Constance Cummings are a lot of fun. He boozes in the first bit, a rip off of The Thin Man, but settles into his own rhythm. Last third maybe a bit static. Shame they couldn't have done it all on a train.
Three train crashes!
British view on Lady Jane Grey. It doesn't have much time to settle into anything other than Jane and her husband were sweet and naive, and Edward VI was manipulated and the adults were prats... but that's basically true, so why not? There is no central core relationship - at the very least it could've dug into the love story more.
Nova Pilbeam briefly became a star playing the lead. John Mills didn't playing her husband - he just is too young looking. Cedric Harwicke is a terrific villain. I liked Desmond Tester, from Sabotage, as Edward VI.
Very stylishly shot and directed by Robert Stevenson.
Link is here
THE EMPEROR OF ELSTREE’S FIRST 300 DAYS
TEN months after being appointed managing director of Associated British Productions and less than seven months after announcing a film-making programme of fifteen features, Bryan Forbes can report that four are editing, three are shooting and another three are set to start. Forbes states that this programme, desi n ned bv h ! m and Bernard Delfont, chairman and chief executive, Associated British Picture Corporation, to mature within eighteen months, is on schedule—and that he is preparing and developing a further six films with the intention of having ‘a continuous flow’. (It should be noted that Bernard Delfont has also announced a further separate schedule of thirteen films to be made by another ABPC subsidiary, Anglo Amalgamated, under the personal supervision of Nat Cohen.) That Bryan Forbes should personally direct certain ABP subjects was written into his contract and he is currently at the helm of ‘The Raging Moon’, starring Malcolm McDowell and Nanette Newman, on location in Hertfordshire, not far from Elstree studios. Between takes, Forbes answered my questions about his first three hundred days as head of ABP.
You are {personally directing ‘The Raging Moon’. What attracted you to it?
B.F. I think it’s a good story. It’s about young people and very much of today. I think it’s probably the sort of film I do best— very much in the genre of ‘The L-Shaped Room’. It came to me about last October from Bruce Cohn Curtis, who had had it at Columbia for a couple of years. It was a very much more expensive picture which we found ways of doing on a much more cooperative basis: we got the budget down to viable proportions. Obviously, I couldn’t be more generous to myself than I am to other producers: I can’t have one set of rules for other people and more generous rules for myself. The title—a quote from Dylan Thomas. It’s a contemporary love story. It so happens that the two protagonists end up in wheelchairs in a home: the boy is struck down: the girl is already there, a polio victim.
You have weighty administrative responsibilities now. How is it that you’re personally directing this one?
B.F. It was never intended that I should give up direction. The original brief was that I should get things going. And I suppose it’s fair to say that at the time of the announcement, I probably thought it would be 18 months before I was directing again; as it happens, it’s about a year. May 1 was the announcement but I’d been in the chair for at least five weeks, unofficially, before then: In fact I started at the end of March.
Does the fact that you’re back directing after this comparatively short period mean you’re bored with the administrative chores?
B.F. No, not at all. I’m told—and I’m learning all the time—that the secret of administration is to delegate. I have a very good team around me which I’ve assembled in the ten months and have every confidence that they can run the studio and I will only be ‘ called in ’—which I am on a daily basis, of course. I go to the studio—we’re only 15 minutes away—and I have a hot line. I only have two pictures shooting at the moment—the rest are editing—and they’re going well, on schedule and on budget. Even if I was at the studio full-time every day I wouldn't be interfering with the day-to-day shooting of a film because that’s not what I do. I have Johnny Hargreaves, my deputy managing director, and Ian Scott, who’s the administrator, and Norman Walker and a very strong team now of heads of departments. There’s a totally new atmosphere at the studio. For example, I doubt whether I’ve ever had a better crew. I can honestly say, with my hand on a stack of bibles, that of the seven pictures we’ve now been involved in there hasn’t been one minute lost through any form of industrial strife at all.
Was personally directing films part of the original deal or is this something that’s developed since?
B.F. That was absolutely categorically written into the deal and arms length terms agreed. It was always intended that I would direct The Barnardo Boys' and that was written into the deal, too. I think it would be foolish for me not to direct because I would lose touch.
Are you likely to direct any more while in your present position with ABP?
B.F. Yes, I think I shall do ‘ Barnardo’s Boys’ in 1971. I don’t think I shall do another one this year. Rumours have been rife. I’ve been asked to comment on my ‘resignation’ and my ‘rows with Mr Delfont’—all of which are non-existent and fabrication and prove this industry has very little else to do but bandy rumours and gossip, especially at a time when there is very little other news around. And, therefore, I suppose it’s fashionable to assume, because I’m directing that ‘something is rotten in the State of Denmark’, that I’m bored or I’ve had a row or I’m resigning—all of which is totally unThis (directing) wasn’t a unilateral decision. I’m managing director but I have a ‘i don’t claim to be a Messiah, or anything like that, but I do think I have a keener appreciation of film problems’. board to answer to. The decision for me to direct this one was approved by the board last November. It isn’t everybody who can put a picture together at very short notice: It had to be an experienced director; I had to bring the budget down (it’s a very tight budget, a very tight schedule—probably the tightest I’ve ever worked to). I was able to set the terms of the deal. I was fortunate in that Bruce Cohn Curtis, who brought the subject to me, was very happy to come in on, literally, a very sort of per diem basis and reduced his fees down. Everybody who’s come in, the main artists, have come in on a co-operative basis —they’re taking very little money and taking a chance with us on the profits of the film. And by a combination of all these factors we’ve got the film’s budget down to viable proportions.
Do you find any conflict between your administrative and creative responsibilities?
B.F. Well, I haven’t yet. To be honest with you, I feel, probably, more relaxed than previously. In a curious way it’s relaxed many of the tensions that one develops. In the ten months, I hope I’ve learned something and I would not have left the shop if I hadn’t thought it was in capable hands: I mean, John Hargreaves is an eminently capable person; I don’t think there’s a better budget brain in the industry ... In the ten years he’s been with me, and we’ve made 14 films together, scarcely a week’s gone by when he hasn’t been called upon to give his opinion on a budget or some production problem. Ian Scott is a first-class administrator . . . They both enjoy the confidence of John Read and Bernard Delfont.
How did you come to get the ABP job, what were the steps involved?
B.F. Well, there weren’t any steps as such. It all evolved from a conversation with Bernie, a social conversation in a restaurant, when, in fact, he asked me to sign a three picture deal to make films for ABP. Out of those conversations came the idea that it should be something wider.
Were your surprised to be offered it, or is it something you actively pursued?
B.F. I certainly didn’t actively pursue it: it never entered my head. The credit must go to Mr. Delfont, I suppose—if credit is the right word! . . I have a three-year contract which is renewable after three years.
Does doing the ABP job mean you’re making less money than as an independent film maker?
B.F. Oh, yes. I suppose I cut my income by two-thirds.
What are the compensations?
B.F. Well, the compensations are, I suppose, that at a time of real crisis—I mean, when I took over there was admittedly a crisis in the British film industry but there wasn’t such an international crisis as there is today —ABP is doing something. I think it's an exciting time to be in this job. I’m certainly excited by the challenge of it and I think we are winning.
You must know that there was some surprise in the industry when you took the job. While everyone was prepared to admit that you were a practical film-maker of proven talent, there was some doubt as to whether you’d be happy with the day-to-day administrative chores.
B.F. Well, I'm not unhappy. I think the challenge is very exciting: it’s a totally different world, a totally different outlook; you have to change your attitude and I think I’ve There's no reason wh V cheaper films should be bad films. Bn ) think we can make Kjf . : mm very good films for far ,ess money than we have in the past'. learned a great deal. One of the things that has excited me is to take over something that was a very demoralised situation. When I took over, within 48 hours I was faced with a go-slow and a possible strike and, in fact, blows being exchanged and it had got to a very ugly stage; the industrial scene was very bad; the men at Elstree, rightly, were demoralised, they felt they had no future, they were wandering in a vacuum. There is a different atmosphere at Elstree now because I think they feel it’s a professional team and whatever I may lack, or have lacked, as an administrator, learning as I go along, at least I’ve understood and anticipated the problems. I don’t claim to be a Messiah, or anything like that, but I do think I have a keener appreciation of film problems and I was determined to get away from the label of film studios being factories. They are film studios where a lot of creative people gather together to create something. I ripped out the time clocks. It isn’t a factory. I will not have it said it’s a factory, I don’t want it to be a factory—it’s a film studio. Again, a lol of people, when you took on the job with its creative and administrative responsibilities, were prepared to accept that you’d take it on, in spite ol the inevitable financial loss, in order to make an honest contribution to the British film industry. But there were some others who were more cynical about your reasons for taking it.
One school of thought was prepared to accept that you were a successful filmmaker who could, as they say, Write his own ticket’ but that you had a Napoleon complex and couldn’t resist becoming Emperor of Elstree. The title rather conveniently fitted in because they knew you had an ambition to make a film about Napoleon.
B.F. So has Stanley Kubrick. They don’t say the same thing about him! If one made a film about Josephine would they say one had a Josephine complex? . . . You have to live with it. If people want to say I’m Napoleon— well, fine. This is a very jealous, cynical industry. Most of the knockers are people without much talent. I’ve never found the really creative people doing it. Ask the Johnny Schlesingers and so on—I don’t think they’ve joined the cynical band.
The other school of thought was even more unkind and that was that you needed a good picture and, that lacking that, the Elstree job just happened along at the right time.
B.F. If they want to think I was looking for handouts—fine. I wasn't in fact. I could have made, at that time, any one of about a dozen films. And if I hadn’t got a picture on offer I'd have written one.
I think you’ve anticipated this question in your earlier replies. But just why did you take the ABP job?
B.F. The challenge. I think if you’ve been a critic, as I have over the years—quite voluble and specific on certain abuses and, I think stupid practices in this industry— you’ve got to put up or shut up eventually. And if the job is offered to you, you can't turn it down and then go on criticising. I didn’t say ‘Yes’ overnight. I thought about it very seriously because all the things you’ve posed to me occurred to me as well —would I make a good administrator, would I be bogged down, would I completely negate anything I wanted to do. But on balance I thought Well, I’m not precluded from directing again. It’s worth having a go at it. If I fail—well, OK, I fail. But I'll try as hard as I bloody well know how!
Do you plan to return to independent production eventually?
B.F. If there’s any independent production to return to.
Have your own experiences as an independent film-maker helped you now that you’re on the other side of the desk?
B.F. Yes, very much, because with the small companies that I’ve run and made films with I’ve never made a really enormous budget picture. I’ve always thought that money has been thrown and passed away at an alarming rate by all sorts of people and I don’t necessarily exclude myself on a couple of occasions. I think we all tend to feel that the pit is bottomless. I think it is madness and we have to cut our cloth. There’s no reason why cheaper films should be bad films: I think you can make very good films for far less money than we have in the past.
Have you in the past been ‘screwed’ by the major companies and, if so, how does that affect your present conduct?
B.F. Well screwed in quotes. I certainly think there are films I’ve made in the past that have made a very handsome profit for the other sections and not for the actual person who made the films. It has affected my conduct to this extent: I've tried to do very fair deals with producers and artists; and if these films succeed I hope that everybody will get a very fair slice of any cake that’s going. When you were, successively, an actor, writer, director and co-producer—sometimes It’s quite true that I’ve always been somebody who wanted new worlds to conquer, as it were, or, at least, try and conquer ... I’m not ruthlessly ambitious’.
Were you consciously or unconsciously working towards a job like this?
B.F. No, I wasn’t. It’s very curious. Some years ago, literally years ago, John Davis once asked me if I’d like to run a studio. I should think he was thinking of Pinewood in those days. I remember a lunch we had together and he did pose the question to me and I didn’t take it very seriously at that time. But, you know, the years roll by and one has different things. It’s quite true that I’ve always been somebody who wanted new worlds to conquer, as it were, or, at least, try and conquer.
Are you ambitious?
B.F. I think everybody’s ambitious. I’m not ruthlessly ambitious. I mean, I haven’t destroyed my personal life or, I think, ever trodden over a succession of dead bodies.
What have been the major changes in your life since you took on the ABP job?
B.F. I think I’ve worked harder than I’ve ever worked in my life before for a longer stretch. I mean, one always works very hard directing a picture—it’s usually a 14-, 15hour day. It’s meant working a 14-hour day, six days a week for eleven months as opposed to, say, 12 weeks on shooting a film.
Has it turned out to be pretty much what you expected or different?
B.F. Totally different from what I expected. The problems have been greater and the rewards have been greater. I thought it would probably be much more even. But the peaks and the valleys are very high and low: it’s constantly changing. It must be like being a super general practitioner, a GP—sometimes there’s an epidemic and sometimes the phone doesn’t ring.
In August, you and Mr. Delfont announced a programme of 15 films. Is it on schedule?
B.F. Yes, it is. In fact, I think it’s just one picture ahead of schedule. We’ve got another three starting in March, April and June. The next one to go is ‘The Railway Children’, with Lionel Jeffries directing; and the next one is ‘A Fine and Private Place’, with Paul Watson directing; and the next one is ‘Dulcima’, with Frank Nesbitt directing. Those that have already finished shooting are ‘The Man Who Haunted Himself’, ‘And Soon the Darkness', ‘ Hoffman’ and ‘ Eye Witness’. ‘Forbush and the Penguins’ and ‘ The Breaking of Bumbo’ are shooting now and ‘The Raging Moon’ is also shooting. That’s seven. Not bad.
On that record, what do you say now to those who took a rather cynical view of your production programme?
B.F. Most of them have written to me and submitted scripts. Forbush’ is being made in full partnership with British Lion and the NFFC.
Any more joint ventures planned?
B.F. Yes, we’re discussing one on a reverse basis with British Lion at the moment: we will get distribution next time and they'll get Shepperton; we had the studio deal this time and they got distribution. The advantages are that it spreads the risk. It brings in the NFFC. It involves two creative boards. The Boultings and Sidney (Gilliat) and Frank (Launder), it's useful to have their experience; I think in many areas they’re very good businessmen; I think they sell films very well—I don’t think anybody sells films, probably, better than the Boulting Brothers.
Have there been any major changes In the programme since it was announced?
B.F. Not major, no. I haven’t gone into production with two of the announced films, not that they’ve been abandoned or anything, but they either haven’t reached a stage where I was satisfied with the script or I couldn’t cast them to my satisfaction. But nothing has been knocked out. The two pictures that were announced in the programme but which haven’t been given a start date yet are ‘ Candidate of Promise’, which is merely a creative postponement, I haven’t been able to put all the ingredients together; Dickie Attenborough’s ‘ The Feathers of Death ’ is really waiting on Dickie—he’s got, in the meantime, very much involved in acting.
Have there been any additions?
B.F. There was a co-production with ITC, ‘Eye Witness’, which wasn’t in the first announcement. We’re also doing two Hammer films later this year. We’re not doing the current one, that’s with AIP, but we are doing two further Hammer films in the year—we’ve sort of taken over the old Warner Bros, commitments, I think.
When you’ve made the 15 films in this programme—and I think they were designed to mature in 18 months—what will happen then?
B.F. At the same time I am preparing and developing another six films: they’re in various stages of script development. The idea is to have a continuous flow. Whether it will be fewer films with slightly higher budgets or exactly the same will be decided, as it were, once the first half-dozen of our films come off and actually get into the cinemas. As you know, we’re fighting on other fronts as well. Mr. Delfont announced the twinning of the Saville Theatre, to give us a West End outlet. Otherwise, we faced the situation where we would be the major producers of films in this country yet dependent upon other people to get ourselves into a West End outlet. We might, with selected films, do what I know John Read and Bernard Delfont want to do: that is to get the films out into the provinces much earlier after their West End release. It may well be that, as in the case of ‘Spring and Port Wine’, we will, more and more, blanket the country with, perhaps, seven key provincial openings tied into a a West End opening which takes advantage of what is, today, national publicity. Films get publicity on television, which is national, and then the provinces have to wait.
You and Mr Delfont made it clear that no foreign distribution had been fixed but that films would be sold on their merits when completed. Have any advances been made in that direction, particularly with regard to the American market?
B.F. Yes and no. None of the films has yet been shown—I think the first answer print comes off next week. I think it's usually a mistake to show films half finished. I think from next week onwards we will be starting that phase of the operation. But, again, we are very dependent at this moment on getting West End outlets. There’s a long queue and we don’t have any particular pull. I know Mr. Read and Mr. Delfont feel the provinces have been neglected and that it would be advantageous, at the peak of interest, to cash in. It very often happens that there’s a great deal of interest shown in a film in the West End and it gets national press coverage and attention on BBC and ITV. But people in Huddersfield and Lincoln and stations beyond have to wait a long time to see that film by which time it's stale
But doesn’t the mass release put your print cost up?
B.F. Possibly. But which comes first: The chicken or the egg? I mean, if you go on television and advertise a new product, the housewife expects it to be in the shops.
Could you recover the cost in the UK alone?
B.F. On a successful film we could. I think our budgets are geared to the fact that if they really were successful we could, in fact, recover negative cost in this country. I’m not crystal ball gazing and it’s very difficult to so recover even with reasonably budgeted films. But it is possible. It’s quite conceivable that an American distributor, who may well be short of product by August of this year, might take three of our films.
Have you been following the progress of the Films Bill through Parliament with any interest?
B.F. I have. I think I’ve given evidence before two Select Committees, or whatever it is, over the years, even before taking up this job. Since taking up the job, we’ve certainly given our views to various Select Committees, some of which I gave attending with Mr. Delfont and Mr. Read; then there were some that they went alone to and some I went alone to. I welcome the fact that the NFFC is continuing. I hope it will lead to a greater spread of money. And, obviously, we’ll try to involve the NFFC, if they want to be involved—and I’m in close touch with John Terry and have been ever since the outset, weekly if not daily—and there are various projects we put to each other. He’s been in a difficult position until now because, although he’s expressed interest in our films in addition to ‘ Forbush ’, he couldn’t depend on getting that money and therefore it’s been mostly in principle. But I hope we will be involved. Certainly, we’ve both had very fluent and constructive forward conversations on it.
Do you see any technical advances on the horizon which will help make film-making quicker, cheaper, better?
B.F. I think front projection is the most important that I know of. I think there’s a crying need for capital investment in this industry. It’s very difficult at the moment because, of course, if you produce, say, a new camera, it isn’t like a car, since the market is limited. And in a depressed market it’s very difficult to get people to invest. We have invested in a lot more portable lighting equipment already and we intend to continue investing in new sound equipment. Almost in the first fortnight I was there we did purchase a very large amount of new sound equipment . . . and I want to improve our dubbing facilities, eventually. To return to the question, I would say front projection is the most important advance. I think the work that Charlie Staffell has done and Tommy Howard has done is of enormous potential. It should, when properly developed and brought down to a viable figure, bring down the cost of films.
Do you see any new trend coming?
B.F. I think that most of us are already middle aged! And we have to look to youth. That’s the audience and that’s the way it’s all pointing, I think. In some biographical notes about you it says that your motto is ‘ We shall find life tolerable once we have consented to be always ill at ease.’
Is this your own or something you’ve adopted? Is this just a joke or does it really express your feelings?
B.F. It’s from Flaubert. I think it does in a funny sort of way. But it’s not a motto: it’s more a way of life. It’s a philosophy, shall we say. And isn’t it a fairly good one?
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Stylishly shot. Clever. Bright concept -a murder during an air raid. Strong cast. I wasn't blown away. Couldn't put my finger on it. Alistair Sim didn't help. He doesn't appear until a third of the way in, but I found him annoying. No hero apart from him.
Strong cast - Leo Genn, Trevor Howard, Sally Grey, Rosamund Johns. (I admit I got the last two mixed up.) Excellent cinematography. A lot of intelligence. I respected this more than enjoyed it. First movie ever shot at Pinewood apparently.
Entertaining, affectionate biography of the star, an endearing heroine of the 1940s. Roc was lucky in many ways - pretty girl, well off background - who wanted to be in pictures. She had a pleasant on screen presence that ensured work in "girl" parts. She was fortunate to come up in the 40s when for a brief moment British cinema actually cared about promoting female stars. Roc had a "girl next door" quality that was spot on and became a name in Gainsborough movies such as Millions Like Us.
What makes the book interesting is the oddness of Roc's career - genuinely popular for a brief time. she kept in public attention due to support of people like J Arthur Rank, but when the tide went out it went out quickly. It also helps that Roc had a colourful personal life - she loved sex, always had affairs (Anthony Steel fathered her child), was nicknamed "bed rock". Married for money eventually, seemed to regret it... she was arrested for shoplifting. I think she missed acting but maybe was more into the lifestyle than the craft. I could be wrong.
Affectionate, easy to read book.
Playfully anarchic comedy about a girls boarding school where the staff and students are out of control. Everyone smokes, bets. The girls torture each other to get information. Belinda Lee is sent to seduce a jockey. But it's not pervy because it was 1954.
There's something about the film that doesn't quite work for me. It's always in second gear. Maybe because the girls aren't the focus, they're background. It needed to be Marx brothers. But it's too... I don't know, polite. Maybe it's too much on the men - Alistair Sim in drag, George Cole - and not enough on the female teachers.
I'm not an Alistair Sim fan, I'm discovering. Something about him is just irritating. He seems to slow down the action. That could be it, for me - Sim fans would feel otherwise.
Some of it is very funny and I love the anarchy and lack of scruple. Maybe it's the direction. I don't know, just being honest.
I'm a sucker for a good train movie - The Lady Vanishes, Silver Streak, North by Northwest, The Narrow Margin. The Brits especially seemed to like them, with their cosy sense of thrills and crime and soothing sounds of wheels on tracks, and numerous subplots that usually mixed comedy with sex and espionage.
This is an enjoyable, unpretentious specimen of the breed, with a cast that was unfamiliar to me for the most part, full of actors playing mysterious Europeans and dodgy Britons. The lead is someone called Albert Lieven, a Conrad Veidt type who plays a spy; since he shoots dead a guard in the opening scene you guess that he's not going to make it to the end of the film alive. His co star is the better known and better billed Jean Kent, who doesn't have much of a role, playing another spy.
The nominal hero is another suave actor about whom I know little, Paul Dupuis, as a detective and hero of the French resistance, but his part isn't that big either. More running time is taken up by comic passenger David Tomlinson, comic American soldier Bonar Colleano, adulterous couple Derrick de Marney and Rona Anderson (this more than anything made me recall The Lady Vanishes), pompous writer Finlay Currie and spy Alan Wheatley. There's also a bird watcher, a cooking expert and a chef - a lot going on.
The film makes a mistake in the last third - instead of keeping things on its toes and the characters running from room to room, the action bogs down in the one carriage, with everyone standing around and Dupuis interrogating people like Charlie Chan. Lieven does get a decent death scene.
More could have been done with the Kent-Dupuis romance - actually more should have been done with Kent full stop, I never really got a fix on her character.
A remake of Rome Express.
