Pete, Dud and Raquel... Badazzled (1967)

Brilliant on stage and ground-breaking on TV, Peter Cook and Dudley Moore couldn’t quite project their impressive array of talent onto the big screen. Bedazzled is a period piece of course and gets lots of points for style and substance but is a little too uneven to stand the test of time. That’s ungenerous of me as when we saw it as teenagers on the small screen the playground was full of it the next day including some of the best one liners, especially Cook’s remark that The Almighty was omni-present whereas he was just highly manoeuvrable.

The discipline of filmmaking would work against the improvisational talents of Cook especially and it’s interesting that Moore would later become so much more successful as a film star; more diligent, used to long hours of practice and discipline as an organ scholar and pianist and, it has to be said, palpably a better actor. There was always more of the devil in Peter and his eyes always betray more mischief and uncertainty than Dudley’s, so much more lost in the role is he. Moore would gain a Golden Globe and Oscar nomination for Arthur in 1981 whilst Cook followed a patchy acting career but contributed greatly to this nation’s sanity, founding Private Eye and his comically-vicious genius inspiring generations of comedians.

Together they were always dynamite and they are still winning here aided by old Footlights colleague Eleanor Bron as Margaret Spencer, the object of Moore’s character Stanley Moon’s desire. Bron and Cook had been in the Cambridge Footlights review of 1959, The Last Laugh and she was the first woman in the group. Well, there’s progress Cambridge! Here she provides the depth of character and technique to play variations on Margaret as each of Stanley’s chosen scenarios work out and she’s the perfect straight-woman with more than enough comic nuance to give the boys a run for their money.

Stanley has been driven to the edge after long years working as a short-order chef at a Wimpy fast-food restaurant during which time he has developed a romantic interest in waitress Margaret. It’s a love that dare not, indeed cannot, speak its name and at the film’s beginning he runs out of the café after Margaret and is unable to articulate his feelings once again as she jumps into a trendy bubble car* with a handsome man and drives off laughing. It’s the cinema of humiliation and Cooke just loves humiliating his in some ways more talented other half but Dudley can not only act it, he can take it and it wouldn’t work any other way.

Stanley goes home and attempts to hang himself only for the pipe he’s relying on to break sending him crashing to the floor as water sprays all over the pre-war wallpaper in his one bedroomed hell. He hears a voice who announces himself as George Spiggot, the most prosaic name for The Fallen One, Beelzebub, Lucifer… (Cook). Stanley soon finds a surprising amount of sympathy from The Devil for his plight as what seems like a good deal is offered: seven wishes and seven chances to secure the affection of the loveable Margaret in exchange for the paltry offering of his soul.

The deal with The Devil seem water-tight but Stanley soon finds that the details have plenty of devil in them and that no matter what kind of scenario he wishes to spark the romance with Margaret, there’s always a fatal flaw… Margaret is passionate but for poetry and not his person, he is even less effective transformed into a bee, he gains sisterly love but no more as a nun in a convent and then even when deeply in love the two cannot consummate their affection because of their guilt over the innocent and thoroughly decent man she has married (George again…).

Along the way, Stanley meets George’s Seven Deadly Sins with the standouts being Raquel Welch as Lilian Lust who – naturally tempts in George’s spare room – and then there’s the great Barry Humphries (another Footlights fellow) as Envy, relishing every nasty expression of human frailty. Perhaps we could have seen more of these Deadly Sins… especially as this is the last place you’d expect to find Raquel Welch on the rise?

 

Dusty Verdict: How can you not like this film even with the odd gripes, it’s of its time and a representation of two of our most talented comics in their prime in London when it was swinging. It’s also a call to follow your heart and to be true to yourself as all retellings of Faust would be, The Devil is in your betrayal of yourself as much as the arbitrary rules of man and deity… something Cook was always against. In the end both Pete and Dud followed their stars and we love them both for it. Anti the Establishment from which they came, rebels and rude boys at their best who left a lasting legacy and much love in their wake.

Directed by Stanley Donen (Singing in the Rain and many more!) in Panavision format, the film is very well made and offers a precious glimpse of the London as well as the unforgettable sight of the Order of Saint Beryl, or the Leaping Beryllians, glorifying their founder by jumping in unison on trampolines. Cook wrote the script and Moore wrote the music which is jazzy with psychedelic elements – some lovely use of phasing – with the repeated main theme sticking in your head. It’s quite collectable and well worth seeking out on its own.

 

 

* The Isetta was an Italian-designed microcar created in 1953 by the Italian firm Iso SpA, and subsequently built under license in a number of different countries, including the United Kingdom.

Too many crooks... Payroll (1961)

There was something in the air in the early 60s… not just the great train robbery but the emergence of a new breed of glamorous British gangs some of whom are still being lionised with some cosy cliches which reflected their appeal. “Hard but fair”, “they only killed their own…”, “you was either a boxer or a gangster…” or, as my former colleague, niece to certain East-end twins used to say her gran threaten “if you don’t behave I’ll set your uncles on you!” There is no doubt that criminality is part of the British way of life and we are fascinated with everyone who gets away.

Directed with forensic almost documentary detail by Sydney Hayers, Payroll was released two years before the big job on the railways and proved that life always imitates art even as that of artful dodgers. Organised crime was a burgeoning sub-genre with other capers such as Cash on Demand (1961), The Frightened City (1961) and Strongroom (1962), which has been attracting some serious attention after its restoration was screened at the BFI and then Il Cinema Ritrovato in Bologna. It seem that Brit Noir/Neo-Noir is due a reappraisal maybe even The Big Job (1965) a comedy reflecting the nation’s continuing interest in these post-war self-improvement schemes.

Here we start off with what looks like an attempted robbery but is just a demonstration of a supposedly impenetrable security van which even comes with a loud hailer called for assistance. Naturally the firm behind the new vehicle are convinced of its efficacy and the driver, Harry Parker (William Peacock) sees advancement in the big new contract to deliver payroll money, telling his wife Jackie (Billie Whitelaw) over breakfast that it’s impregnable.

The film is very good in showing the depth of all the characters and that’s what adds to the noirish feel when betrayal, paranoia and in-fighting kick in.

There’s a gang monitoring the payroll deliveries and led by Johnny Mellors played rather convincingly against type by Michael Craig who constantly rubs up against the edgy scouser Blackie (Tom Bell, on fine form speaking his native dialect!). Bert Langridge (Barry Keegan) is their technician and more level-headed whilst Monty (a febrile, greasy Kenneth Griffith… nerves on a stick!) worries about everything and everyone.

The gang have a man on the inside, Dennis Pearson played with anxious exhaustion by Barry Keegan, and he passes them photocopies of the van’s design helping them devise a way to counter its armour. Improbably he’s married to a beautiful wife, Katie (Françoise Prévost) who’s just about had enough of his promises of a better life… we’re left to fill in the gaps of their relationship.

The heist takes place and, whilst Harry may have felt impervious, the gang sandwich the van between two trucks with girders strapped to them and repeatedly ram the vehicle killing him outright. It’s an audacious and unsettling moment and Bert too is badly injured as the robbers gain access to the interior and then dozens of people run from a nearby factory to try and help with one man clinging to the back of the getaway car… everyday bravery that you could say reflected the more conscientious and dutifully aligned post-war Britain.

Now the film takes a turn as getting what you want isn’t necessarily as good as the boys imagined especially with the collateral damage… this extends to one of their own as they discover when they reach their hide-away in the depths of Victorian Newcastle as Bert is unable to follow on due to the extent of his injuries. Johnny knows there’s only one option, Blackie is less sure and Monty’s about to lose his head whilst all around just about keep theirs. Bert dies before Johnny has to finish him and the gang disperse… now’s the time to wait it out.

But as the police become involved and the tragedy is revealed, Katie senses a kindred spirit in Johnny whilst a distraught Jackie shows she has more grit than any of the robbers. She senses a betrayal at the security firm – how did the gang get to know the van’s weaknesses, someone had to have told them. The rest of the film plays out a tense psychological thriller as the pressure builds on the guilty and the innocent.

Dusty Verdict: Payroll is a mostly fast moving and enjoyable ride which hits harder than its budget might have allowed thanks to some fine performances. Billie Whitelaw catches the eye most in her shift from dutiful housewife to determined pursuer of her husband’s killer and the police procedural is well observed and believable. In comparison Françoise Prévost is a bit of a closed book, we’re not sure of her motivations either towards her feckless husband or Johnny… but her acting is giving far less of a clue than Whitelaw’s.

One of the film’s delights is its Newcastle locations – it’s always fascinating seeing the backgrounds in period films, but it’s usually London so it’s grand to see the sights of one of the finest cities of the north, the bridges over the Tyne, the grimy Victorian riverside in the winding soot-stained bricks below.

 

 

 

 

Steptoe and Fletch... The Bargee (1974)

Time to float Barker and Corbett, just not that Corbett, the Harry H kind and a vehicle tailor-made for the then rising star of Galton and Simpson's Steptoe and Son written by the men themselves. At the time the film did reasonably well at the box office with Kine Weekly listing it as one of the highest grossing of the year but it was generally viewed as a critical miss with Variety scathingly suggesting that "...it will provide spasmodic amusement for the easy going..." well, I personally like it where the going is easy but with quite a few caveats!

Firstly, who doesn't want to watch canal boats making their serene progress along the summer waterways? The sight of Ronnie Barker and Harry H Corbett floating gently down stream with glorious countryside views all filmed in Techniscope makes for a nostalgic feast especially for someone who grew up on the Leeds Liverpool Canal as I did … well, close enough for walking and fishing.

Secondly, there’s a cast featuring some of the leading lights of the era with Eric Sykes as a green around the gills leisure craft who “won’t be happy until he gets a wooden leg…” according to Corbett’s “Lothario of the Locks” Hemel Pike, the titular narrow boat worker. The there’s the broody and unsettling presence of Hugh Griffith as Joe Turnbull the overly protective father of the beauteous Christine played by Julia Foster who’s pure naturalism raises the film’s dramatic levels whenever she’s on screen.

Barker and Corbett

Then we have the two leads in Mr Corbett and Mr Barker both of whom are guaranteed comic immortality thanks to Steptoe and Porridge amongst the many roles they undertook. They both disappear into these roles but here there’s less for them to work with Harry H slightly miscast as the Casanova of the Cut who is motivated by unconvincing saucy encounters as well as the fact he has canal water running in his veins at a time when the narrow boats were being outcompeted by rail and road haulage. Hard to be a man of tradition and conviction when you’re faithless and manipulative with the ladies and harder still to suddenly be thinking you’ve found The One.

The first third of the story is uncomfortable as we follow the adventures of Hemel and his co-pilot Ronnie (Ronnie Barker) as he plans his route along the Grand Union Canal from Southall to Birmingham with stops to see his lady friends along the way. Yes, there’s a girl in every port for this inland sailor and he plans out which ones to visit enroute and on return – even including his favourite at Marsworth Top Lock at Bulborne Junction on the Grand Union Canal near Tring in Hertfordshire (thanks to Reel Streets or, in this case, Reel Canals).

Miriam Karlin in full force

First stop is The Boat Horse alehouse at Black Jack's Lock near Harefield where Hemel meets up with the feisty Nellie Marsh (Miriam Karlin) after putting on his smart suit and dealing with poor Ronnie’s disappointment at yet again being left in charge of the moorings. Unfortunately, before the boys can enjoy the meal she’s cooked, Nellie spots the postcards Ronnie was due to mail to Hemel’s lucky ladies upstream, and realising she’s being taken for a mug, chases the boys off with her bread knife.

It's a slapstick exit and yet as Hemel then meets another sweetheart, Cynthia (Jo Rowbottom, later to feature with Doctor Who in the classic Evil of the Daleks and much more besides!) who not only bakes him a cake but odes his laundry, it’s clear he’s using these women, much as he may enjoy his company. This doesn’t make him that likeable although he’s clearly a rogue.

My attitude to the film began to improve though as Hemel meets his match at the next stop at Marsworth Top Lock, Bulborne Junction near Tring, and in more ways than one. Here we find Christine and her father who we first see threatening a man who had the audacity to say hello to his daughter. He’s impossible but Hemel gets Ronnie to distract him in the pub, challenging him to a 29-pint session which, naturally he loses but at least his pal gets to spend quality time with Christine and their relationship is certainly the deepest of those we’ve seen. The narrative for the last hour is based on this situation and, ironically for a film about the flow of canal traffic, it is more compelling when the narrow boats stop and it’s the people that get moving.

Julia Foster radiates!

Julia Foster is always someone you care about in whatever role and she and Griffith bring more fulsome characterisation and dramatic force. When it is discovered – via a hapless Doctor played by my Dad’s old Quarry Bank classmate Derek Nimmo (you wouldn’t credit him as a scouser in most of his roles) – Joe literally stops everything until he discovers the “culprit”. He drains the canal, attaches home made bombs to the lock and aims a gun at anyone who disagrees – cue Richard Briers as a young official and Barker’s future Porridge co-star Brian Wilde, the legendary Wally Patch (who started in British silents) as a bargee, plus Rita Webb and Patricia Hayes as onlookers.

It's going to be a grandstand finish and will Hemel not only admit his clear role in the situation but accept and make peace with the life it means he might have to live.

Dusty verdict: The film illustrates the difference between longer form character development of sit-coms and the more rounded narrative required for a feature film. Corbett’s character can get away with being selfish and cruel in Steptoe because he gets plenty of ground to prove his good-natured support for his old dad. Here we almost lose Hemel before he shows us his more likeable qualities but this comes in force as he finally grows up – albeit with a woman just over half his age (Foster was 20 during filming, Corbett 39).

Director Duncan Wood keeps up the pace and there’s the steady rhythms of the waterways representing a way of life that was soon coming to an end. Eric Syke’s wacky interventions signal the future for the canals, people on motorised boats there for the scenery and not the graft. To this extent The Bargee stands as a record of the last working days of the Georgian “motorways” on which Britain’s industrialisation was founded. You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone… Hemel might even agree.