Plenty of filling… The Sandwich Man (1966), Network Blu-ray out now

 

This is something of a city symphony from the fourth Goon and full of gentle charm to match the multiple locations across the capital, some of which have hardly changed, with others long since gone leaving no trace of “Swinging” London left. As a story the narrative is very thin and essentially just an excuse to see those sights as well as to allow dozens of guest stars to performing skits of varying levels of humour. The commentary from Producer/Cinematographer Peter Newbrook confirms that the entire picture was shot on location and that whilst they hit all their main targets, subterfuge was required to film certain scenes in the West End, given the unhelpful attitude of the authorities. This is a great advert for the vibrancy of the dirty old town and is a quirky near-classic!

Written by Michael Bentine together with Robert Hartford-Davis who also directs, great credit should also go to Newbrook’s cinematography and Peter Taylor’s editing. If it were nothing else, The Sandwich Man would stand as eloquent testimony to the time and place but it’s the guest stars that make it and only someone with Bentine’s address book could have pulled this off: Norman Wisdom, Diana Dors, Harry H. Corbett, Dora Bryan, Bernard Cribbins and Terry-Thomas… even Brian Cant pops up in a cameo. Delays also pushed them into the late summer/early autumn and the weather then became an issue. So, light comedy it may be, but we shouldn’t doubt the determination to get it made and it’s hard to keep sunny smiling when the cool wind come off the Thames…

It begins and ends with a street and some pigeons as the camera swoops down from the foggy East End sun to a row of colourful Victorian cottages. Out of the first comes Da Sikhars, two Indian jazz musicians played by Leon Thau (Ram) and Hugh Futcher (Gogi) in now-jarring brown-face – what was it about the Goons and playing Indians? Thau worked with Bentine in It’s a Square World before producing and directing Michael Bentine's Potty Time complete with legendary ant circus!

Dora and Michael

Next door along sees Roger Delgado emerge as Abdul, the carpet seller, followed by Burt Kwouk who defies racial stereotyping by jumping into an Italian ice cream van… just as cringeworthy today but in the context of 1966 all of a piece with a warm comment on the emerging diversity.

Next door to Burt is Horace Quilby (Bentine) pigeon fancier and sandwich man employed, for those of you from the 21^st Century, to walk the streets of central London advertising services on cardboard signs slung over his shoulders, in this case Finklebaum & O’Casey Gents Bespoke Overcoats & West End Suits. His neighbour is played by the legendary Dora O’Brien, who takes a break from beating her carpet to inquire about his racing pigeon, Esmerelda, who is involved in a major race from Bordeaux to London. There’s a frisson between the two… the promise of more just as Horace’s feathered friend might bring him greater success in the sporting world of Columba livia domestica. 

Horace is a man of small pleasures, always looking on the bright side and enjoying people watching during his endless days of mobile advertising. He greats his neighbours and talks to a stunning young woman, Sue (Suzy Kendall, one of the faces of the era, star of Up the Junction and, in the seventies, many a Giallo film) who is having a falling out with her luxury car salesman boyfriend, Steven (David Buck). Steven arrives in one of many lovely period cars and there’s a great reaction shot from the bus queue as they look from side to side as the couple argue.

Super Suzy Kendall

Sue and Steven form the main thread with a running argument throughout the film exacerbated by the former’s job as a model being photographed by Bernard Cribbins who is, as always, a joy with more than a few improvised lines as he, literally, falls dahn an ‘ole in the grahnd being dug by David Lodge and his men. Da Sikhars also spend most of the film, erm, seeking to get to an Indian jazz festival and, Horace sees it all.

But the biggest hits come from the incredible list of stars. At the time they didn’t come much bigger than Norman Wisdom who plays a boxing vicar at a boys’ club near St Pauls. He has an “oirish” accent and does all his own stunts some of which are quite remarkable for a 51-year old. He’s positively Chaplinesque as indeed is Charlie’s son from his marriage to Oona, Michael J Chaplin, who plays a pavement artist during the Cribbins-Kendall-working men sequence. As with all of Chaplin’s kids, the most famous face in the world gives them a familiarity. Striking that we’re further away from this film than it was from The Great Dictator, Modern Times and even his classic period with Keystone, Mutual and Essanay.

Elsewhere we’re gifted with Terry Thomas as a scout leader trying to give Da Sikhars a lift before falling foul of a traffic policeman played by Ian Hendry, who shows his range as the comedically-tense copper on a bad day which culminates in his packing it all in when two cars collide (near Tolworth Tower on the A3, not central London) and the drivers are men in costume, a Kangaroo – who possibly jumped a red light – and a Polar Bear. Many of these sketches were drawn from Bentine’s It’s a Square World, they can be hit and miss but everyone contains those guest stars.

Norman nurses his bruises...

There’s a lovely sequence in Billingsgate Fish Market with Diana Dors debating the relative values of Doctor Kildare with Anna Quayle, and the camera keeps cutting to fish getting gutted, by Frank Findlay no less, as the women discuss TV operations… it’s well observed. We also get Abdul haggling with Sydney Tafler over exchanging one of his carpets for 30 pounds… of fish.

Sometimes the stars are in extended skits, Harry H. Corbett as a Stage-Door Keeper amidst a West-End chorus line rehearsal – lots of legs in that one – then Stanley Holloway as Park Gardener engaged in a running battle with Alfie Bass’ model yachtsman. Other times you blink and you miss them, and I was pleased with myself for spotting a young Georgina Hale as the motorcycle pillion rider who loses the bottom half of her leathers in Soho.

Still they keep on coming, Wilfrid Hyde-White as a rather confused Lord Uffingham, confusing pigeon owner Horace with a horse owner at the Hilton, Warren Mitchell as Gypsy Sid, reading tea leaves in a café and John Le Mesurier as the Senior Sandwich Man, Zebadiah, the almost mystical head of this peculiar group of workers.

Terry Thomas, what an absolutely spiffing idea!

There’s too many to mention and you’ll just have to make like Horace when he hits the tope of the stairs between Pall Mall and the Mall and stretches out his arms in appreciation of the Sun’s strengthening rays. I worked two summer seasons at a Butlins in North Wales and one of the comics there used to travel the whole north west coast and beyond. I asked him how he put up with so much travelling and he said just by enjoying the journey, people watching and making the most of each day.

I reckon Michael Bentine, and so many of his co-stars, knew that feeling all too well and there’s a Zen-like quality to this film. All will be well, just keep o keeping on and hope for the best… it’s the best you can hope for.

A quick tip of the hat to composer Mike Vickers whose music plays such a part in the film’s coherence and mood. The Sandwich man was well liked by those who saw it according to Peter Newbrook but it wasn’t the commercial success they hoped. Maybe the style was already slightly behind the times for the younger audience but this excellent transfer from Network brings to life again those locations and those ace faces.

The film comes with a host of special features:

·         Brand-new interviews with composer Mike Vickers, production accountant Maureen Newman, actor Hugh Futcher and draughtsman Alan Cassie

·         Archive interview with Michael Medwin

·         Archive commentary with producer/cinematographer Peter Newbrook

·         Theatrical Trailers

·         Soho Bites podcast with image gallery

·         Limited edition booklet written by Melanie Williams

It’s out now and you can order direct from Network – another hugely enjoyable winner and at a very reasonable price too!

 

 

The younger ones… Two Left Feet (1963)

 

London's teenage jungle blazing vividly to life...

There’s a brightness and energy to this film that goes beyond my reaction to the youthful zest of the stars to be on screen, its mildly-annoyed young man/coming of age storyline is very much of its time – a good thing! - but the performances ultimately bring through the flavour of the characters and convince. The film is based on David Stuart Leslie's novel, originally entitled In My Solitude (1960), which was praised by the Daily Express for describing 'Fings as they are. . . Fresh observation, no self pity, no phony sociology, rough and squalid, yet redeemed often by sardonic Cockney humour. A story as convincing as it is readable'.

There’s little about Stuart Leslie on the internet but he seems to have written some interesting books about London life, notably Two Gentlemen Sharing (1963), a multi-racial flat share story which was also made as a film in 1969, along with thrillers and adventure novels right up to popsploitation fare with titles like Snap, Crackle and Pop and Bad Medicine. His writing style for what became Two Left Feet, is very much in the vernacular, with lines like:

“Me and my two left feet!” I said wiping down inside my shirt almost to my belly button. I saw her eyes following my hand and I said to myself, ‘Watch it girl!’

Julia Foster and Michael Crawford

 

Now you have to imagine an impossibly young Julia Foster as the “girl” in question, Beth a shop worker, and an equally youthful Michael Crawford as Alan Crabbe, labourer by day and improving dancer by night. Foster was 19 and Crawford was 21 just five years on from playing a lad in Soapbox Derby (1958) and half a century before being named as a national treasure, as indeed is Ben Fogle’s mum, Julia!

Directed by stalwart Ray Ward Baker, Two Left Feet kicks off where it means to carry on with some fantastic location shots of our hero emerging from the tube at Piccadilly Circus and giving superb location shots of old Soho as young Alan’s eye is caught by all manner of sexually interesting sites. The credits roll as he gawks at the magazines in a shop window – Click, Honey, Cherie, Revels… walks along Moor Street to Old Compton Street and ending up at the Bijou Cinema where they are screening the “Fabulous Pamela Green” in Naked as Nature Intended – reviewed in all seriousness earlier on this blog!

Alan window shopping

Alan is 19 and inexperienced as a dancer and a lover which is the source of constant ribbing from his workmates who include the lovely David Lodge as Bill and Cyril Chamberlain as Miles, older married men who have seen it all before. The work mates’ luncheon is enlivened by the new girl at the corner café, Eileen played by Nyree Dawn Porter, 27 at the time but still the youngest I’ve seen her pre-Protectors and Forsyte Saga. Eileen gives as good as she gets as the lads banter and takes a shine to Alan, gently pushing his buttons to get his interest.

Gradually Alan builds up the courage to ask Eileen out and he takes her up West to the subterranean The Florida Club which is – checks Reel Streets – under the Bridgewater Road tunnel. They ask another youngster Brian (David Hemmings, also 21 and not quite as eye-catchingly cool as he would be in Blow Up) if he can sign them in with his membership and they start to cut a rug to Bob Wallis and his Storyville Jazzmen and other cool cuts. Albert’s limited moves don’t impress Eileen quite so much as Brian’s young pal Ronnie (Michael Craze, just 20 and a very talented actor who would do far more in a varied career that included that spell in the Tardis) dancing with the simply stunning Dilys Watling (also 20) as Mavis.

Michael Crawfor and Nyree Dawn Porter

 

The youngsters chat between dances and there’s that awkwardness you’d expect and so many passions running deep and slightly out of control. Eileen dances with Ronnie, Mavis looks longingly at Brian and Alan’s attention is caught by a pretty young blonde, Beth (Julia Foster). At times it feels as if some of the dialogue could have been improvised as it’s jarring but that could just be the excellence of the cast in building the fragile bridges of attraction and male connection.

Eileen and Alan keep on going but he doesn’t really know how to proceed and after one fumbled coupling only increases the tension between them. Beth is a different proposition, easier company for Alan who is more relaxed around her, showing his moral balance by accepting the awkward truths of her father’s suicide which she is both shamed by and resolved. Alan’s father is a policeman, played by Bernard Lee, and it’s only later when we see them together that we understand the son’s debt to his upbringing.

Dilys Watlting, Michael Craze and David Hemmings

Meanwhile, there’s nearly murder on the dancefloor as Eileen starts dating Ronnie, Alan goes with Beth and Mavis gets engaged to Brian, the first steps towards the “grown-ups”. There’s a great blow out at the wedding with Mavis’ Uncle Reg (Michael Ripper who always delivers) arranging party games at the reception. This is when matters come to a head with Eileen but also with Ronnie… the group consider him too young at 17 and Alan had previously made some comment about him needing to decide “which way he’s going…” all of which oblique coding is given stark context when, in a kissing game in which the boys are blindfolded, Brian replaces Eileen and Ronnie ends up kissing him.

Tensions rise further between Alan and Eileen as well as Beth and Ronnie… and the final couplings are in doubt until the very end.

Ever since Mr Axelford's Angel, I've held a place in my heart for Julia...

Dusty Verdict: Two Left Feet (1963) is as interesting for its times as well as for it’s leading actors. In the end it was given an X Certificate and not fully released until 1965 by which time the names were far better known but society and audience had moved on. This is a shame as it’s well made and more sophisticated than I expected with nuance not just from Dawn Porter but also from the prodigiously talented Foster and Crawford.

Crawford’s character as a narrative of its own which convinces as he gains the confidence of a man in tune with the dance as well as his own instincts. Michael Craze is also excellent as the cat on a hot tine roof, barely of age, carrying a flick knife and at war with himself. David Hemmings and Dilys Watling have lesser range to their roles but both deliver in terms of watchability and in Dilys’ case, dancing! I once saw her coming out of the Liverpool Playhouse in the seventies and she even walks in time!

Dilys dances!

 

The film is available from Network Distribution direct from their website and the DVD comes with production shots and looks great!

Now, time to find some of David Stuart Leslie's other works…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

Robbing hoods... Two-Way Stretch (1960)

 

When this blog was invented it’s stated aim was to allow me to watch and work my way through my boxes of old VHS recordings in order to decide which ones to keep, which ones to throw and which ones to replace with DVDs. The rule, so far, has been to cover films from 1960-1979 – although this rule has become more and more frustrating especially as I’d reckoned without the sudden appearance of a new supply of many, many films from this period and beyond courtesy of Talking Pictures TV… which has been transmitting and incredible volume of British film from the period of my childhood and earlier. In short, my problem has increased… only instead of boxes of videos, I now have a Virgin Box crammed full of films, A Family at War, Callan and so much more.

So it goes… but I must soldier on writing about these films – do I keep, burn or delete or, worse to I upgrade to Blu-ray?! So many of these films I hadn’t heard of and, in fairness I was either not even born or simply too young… toddlers don’t reckon crime capers much, not when there’s trains to play with.

It seems improbable that this film came before the Great Train Robbery (in 1963) but there must have been something in the air at the time; some essentially British post-war criminality that saw a big job as somehow justifiable but also funny… Was it class that drove this rebelliousness or something deeper after a decade or more of post-War austerity and a Conservative government rapidly losing its charm on a restless populous. The UK wasn’t just waiting to swing in the sixties but to elect a Labour government and to kick back, the generation that won the war wanting some credit and a good time to boot!!

Warren and Bernard

So it is that we find an entirely unrepentant group of prisoners living the life of Riley on her majesty’s pleasure; Dodger Lane (Peter Sellers, beginning to prove that he could do pretty much anything on screen), “Jelly” Knight (the redoubtable David Lodge) and Lennie (The Dip) Price (the legendary Bernard Cribbins who endures so magnificently in Doctor Who and other programmes). Dodger’s the leader with Jelly the muscle and Lennie the talent, if picking pockets is what you consider art.

The three are close to release and pretty much have the run of the prison with a naïve and overly optimistic Prison Governor Horatio Bennett (Maurice Denham) and a very easy-going Chief Prison Officer Jenkins (George Woodbridge) who only see the best in the men even as they steal the Gov’s ciggies and take liberties left right and centre.

The boys are visited by their relatives, Lennie’s Mum Mrs Price (Irene Handl) who encourages him to keep up the family honour by escaping and Dodger’s fiancé, the curvy Ethel (Liz Fraser who is, as always a wide-eyed wow!), who he uses to distract the entire room as various contraband is passed to the prisoners.

Irene and Liz

 A Vicar arrives and bless me if it isn’t Wilfrid Hyde-White as Soapy Stevens, a criminal mastermind whose last plan landed the lads inside. This time he’s got a sure-fire winner, the perfect crime to be committed while the boys are still in prison… all they have to do is escape for a few hours to do it.

Now, given the generally lax conditions this should be a doddle but Officer Jenkins is due to retire and his replacement is the ball and chain-breaking, Prison Officer 'Sour' Crout played with stiff-backed relish by Lionel Jeffries. A battle of wits ensues as Crout tries to crush the lad’s spirits and Dodger has to fix a way out past his steely-beady eyes…

Of course, the gang manage their escape and Soapy’s plan looks to have run like clockwork… can they really get away with it?

Porridge!

Dusty Verdict: Two Way Stretch was the fourth biggest film at the UK box office in 1962 and you can see why with this wealth of comic talent and a well-written script ably directed by Robert Day.

Jeffries and Sellars are superb as the impertinent force versus officious object – the sparks fly! There’s also a supporting cast including Arthur Mullard, Warren Mitchell, Thorley Walters and many more – such strength in depth and far from just a vehicle for the irresistible rise of the man formerly known as Bluebottle…