Showing posts with label Patrick Magee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patrick Magee. Show all posts

Tuesday, 25 July 2017

Timeless brutalism... A Clockwork Orange (1971)


This film was an experience shared through rumour by the lads in my class; all way too young to have seen it. A narrative of excited outrage has surrounded the film like a cloud ever since its release and to watch it for the first time, post-election in a Great Britain discussing a “snoopers’ charter”, over-crowded and under-staffed prison service and the right to abortion in Northern Ireland is to be stunned by Stanley Kubrick’s foresight. He based the both on Anthony Burgess’ 1962 novel but it feels very 2017 in so many respects.

Our world is not as bad as the film’s but we’re getting closer whereas in 1972 you would have assumed progress was going to move us further and further away. We are now in the time of going backwards and the warnings of the film stand out starker than ever they did.

As Kubrick said of his film it is not only social (and moral) satire but a “running lecture on free-will” for if society’s cure for anti-social behaviour and criminality is brutal brainwashing and chemically-fired aversion therapy then how far have we lost the will to reason? And is this brutal “project of fear” just an admission of failure in the matter of producing a society capable of reasoning and reaching moral judgements?


A Clockwork Orange is as comic and brutalistic as it its concrete backdrops but amidst the theatre of the absurd book-ending the imprisonment and “rehabilitation” of Alex, it poses the questions that hit hardest. Burgess ’62, Kubrick ’71… we are all Alex now. Yes, really.

Malcolm McDowell gives one of his most complex and disturbing performances as  Alex DeLarge, the boy from Burscough, adopting a strange generic northern accent which makes his love of violence and Ludwig van Beethoven somehow all the more shocking. He leads a gang of “droogs” – Pete (Michael Tarn), Georgie (James Marcus) and Dim (a young and perfectly-cast Warren Clarke). The language is Nadsat, a slang invented by Burgess involving of Slavic (especially Russian), English, and Cockney rhyming slang.

The boys find a tramp
He lives at home with his folks but in the first blistering and unsettling sequence we see what they get up to on a typical night out… Back as my boyhood turned to early youth there was always a specific culture of violence in British society: bovver boys, skins, lads wandering round in light blue “parallels” and feather cuts… a glam-rocker link between well-dressed mods and later footie casuals who favoured designer labels as part of their aggressive signalling. These were all gangs you’d cross the road for and at the very least avert your gaze.

Alex’s gang evening starts off with a vicious attack on a tramp – kicks for kicks and mindless too. Next up they interrupt another gang raping a young woman (Shirley Jaffe) in an abandoned theatre/cinema – a degenerate “show” – and attack the other gang not to rescue the girl but just because they can. Celebrating victory in a comically back-projected, Wacky Races car drive they end up at the home of a writer Mr. Frank Alexander (Patrick Magee) and his elegant wife Mary (Adrienne Corri).

Disturbing the peace: the unsettling Home invasion
They con their way in and soon reveal their attitude to women and the “in and out” by brutally raping Mary whilst kicking Frank around on the floor. Alex belts out “Singing in the Rain” as if to illustrate the fact that this gruesome act means absolutely nothing to him…

The film’s influence on pop culture is clear throughout: the boys drink in the Korova Milk Bar (later the name of the Bunnymen’s record label) and drink Moloko cocktails (later the name of a post-acidhouse dance-pop band)  and Alex goes record shopping with a band called Heaven 17 at number 3 in the charts. The record shop was the Chelsea Drugstore and it has a copy of the 2001 soundtrack prominently displayed… naturally. Alex meets a couple of young women Sonietta (Gillian Hills a proper French pop star as well as having featured in Anotioni’s Blow Up and being the teenage riot herself in Beat Girl) and her pal (Barbara Scott) and the three enjoy a famously hi-speed threesome back in Alex’s bedroom: a reference to Hills, Hemmingway and Birkin in Blow Up?

Gillian Hills and Barbara Scott: Heaven 17 high in the charts!
In spite of their successful freewheeling horror show there are divisions in the gang and Alex’s leadership of Dim and Pete is growing weaker. The two challenge him and Alex humiliates them but the resentment only grows… After a disastrous raid on another wealthy household in which Alex accidentally kills a woman referred to only as Catlady (Miriam Karlin - a powerhouse cameo mixing yoga and physical violence) with a large porcelain phallus… the boys beat him up and leave him to be arrested.

Society takes its revenge and Alex is imprisoned and after a few years inside cultivating religion and the favour of the prison chaplain, he jumps at the chance to undertake a new treatment which aims to “cure” criminals so they can safely be returned to society without the ongoing costs of imprisonment… But it’s not a let off and the process involves aversion therapy of the most unrelentingly brutal kind as – eyelids forced open – Alex if forced to watch hour after hour of horrific images until, literally, violence, sex and evil make him sick.


 Will his liberty be worth the loss of his emotional freedom?

Dusty verdict: In truth there’s too much narrative detail to accurately summarise the film; you could spend paragraphs on Alex’s trip to the record shop and subsequent high speed threesome. But this film remains controversial because of its high level of content.

At the time Kubrick was blamed for so-called copycat violence and ended up pulling the film after he and his family were threatened with an attack on their home aimed at replicating the film’s domestic invasion, assault and rape. It was too much and the film wasn’t screened again in the UK until after the director’s passing in 1999.

McDowell endured much discomfort filming the "eyes wide open" sequence...
That is hard core and nothing has even come close in popular culture until the dawn of the social media troll… Threats were more serious in the seventies perhaps or maybe we’re just more used to the de-civilising impact of technology.

A Clockwork Orange is unpleasant but essential watching for anyone serious about film and its socio-political context; almost half a century on it’s still in your face, challenging the watcher to examine their own reactions and to stay watchful.

The film is widely available and now on Blu-ray which is hard to resist although you’ll probably wince and look away from time to time; unlike Alex, we have a choice…

An impossibly young Steven Berkoff interrogates Alex
The Moog music score of Walter, later Wendy, Carlos remains unsettling too:  a “tomorrow’s world” of sound that now signals a parallel universe of the musical future.

Available from all good stores although the Chelsea Drugstore has long since closed and is now a McDonalds...

Saturday, 8 December 2012

Tales of future past… The Final Programme (1973)


Michael Moorcock is one of the pre-eminent figures in science fantasy of the last half century. His work has been arguably as influential as Philip K Dick in this country at least and, from the underground he has crossed over to many areas of popular culture from music (Hawkwind) to Doctor Who. He was also a major influence on Brits who revolutionised comics (and everything else thereafter...),  including Alan More, Neil Gaiman and Bryan Talbot who’s Luther Arkwright paid tribute to one of Moorcock’s greatest creations, Jerry Cornelius.

Cornelius is a recurring character for Moorcock but one who grew out of sixties counter-culture, a super-intelligent master of all trades who travels through time and parallel universes with bewildering ease. The first Cornelius novel was The Final Programme published in 1969 and was followed by three others and recurring appearences in various guises for decades to come.

Trafalgar Square...
This 1973 film attempted to capture the essence of the character and metaphysical tom-foolery and, to an extent it succeeded. Jon Finch makes for a gritty Cornelius, genius-level IQ not tempering his aggression or fondness for chocolate digestive biscuits. Dressed like a younger, more misanthropic Jon Pertwee, he swaggers and staggers through the film taking all in his measured stride.

Jon Finch
He arrives at his father’s funeral in Lapland where he encounters Dr Smiles (Graham Crowden) one of a group of scientists intent on using his father’s scientific secrets to transform mankind. Unimpressed Jerry decides it’s time to burn down the family house, all of its secrets and his younger brother, the psychotic Frank (Derrick O’Connor) who is holding their sister Catherine (Sarah Douglas) captive in a drug-induced haze.


Jerry, no stranger to various narcotics resolves to rescue Catherine and to deal with Frank once and for all. He works his various contacts to obtain the necessary equipment in the form of a Phantom jet from from a mad US general Major Wrongway (Sterling Hayden in a what’s *he* doing in this film moment!).

He then meets the sleazy Shades (Ronald Lacey) in a London nightclub where he encounters old friend “Little Miss Dazzle” (the appropriately dazzling Julie Edge) and various other notables.

“Little Miss Dazzle” -  Julie Edge
Jerry is persuaded to help the scientists recover a strip of micro-film and they are now accompanied by the mysterious Miss Brunner (an ice-cool Jenny Runacre) who has reasons of her own to recover this item.

Jenny Runacre
The attack on the family home goes wrong though and Jerry ends up shooting Catherine by mistake after being drugged by Frank. Miss Brunner is too quick and strong for Frank and persuades him to give her the film, but he manages snatch it away and escape…

Jerry recuperates in a nursing home and is picked up by Miss Brunner with her new friend Jenny (Sandy Ratcliffe). They head off to another bizarre club - slime-wrestling a speciality - and are served by Sandra Dickenson (ex-wife of Dr Who 5 and now mother-in-law of Dr Who no. 11…fact fans!)

Jon Finch and Sandra Dickenson
All retire back to Jerry’s pad where Jerry learns of Miss B’s strange habit of absorbing her lovers when Jenny disappears leaving her clothes on the couch and her piano-playing ability with Brunner…

They set off in search of Frank and track him down to Turkey where he is trying to sell the microfilm to Dr Baxter (Patrick Magee) a former colleague of their father. Miss Brunner absorbs the bad Doctor whilst Jerry finally chases down and disposes of his brother.

Jon Finch, Jenny Runacre and Graham Crowden
They head off to Dr Cornelius former “summer resort” back in Lapland where they will attempt to run his Final Programme: an attempt to create a new form of humanity, an hermaphrodite that will move mankind into a new era.

Miss Brunner has decided that Jerry should be the new messiah but there is trouble from the man already ear-marked for the job. After the inevitable fight, Jerry and Bruner get set in the huge solar-powered machine for their transformation.

Whether Miss Brunner expected to emerge the dominant force in the new meld is unclear but after long psychedelic minutes the creature that emerges from the debris is very much like our Jerry, regressed in form to a caveman but with his intellect in tact. The scientists lie amongst the shattered equipment and he heads off into the new word which he describes as “tasty!”.


Whilst this is a suitably disorientating ending but one that can only really be placed in context by reading the rest of the original Cornelius Quartet? That said, The Final Programme is an entertaining film and it is great to see the character and so many counter-cultural aspects on screen… if you can’t beat them, confuse them!

This was the spirit that infused so much of the science fiction I was obsessed with in my early teens and it went well and truly mainstream over ensuing years through Moorcock himself as well as Alan Moore, Talbot, Grant Morrison and the rest who wove alternative fiction into mainstream media.


Directed at pace by Robert Fuest, who also blew his budget on those impressive locations, The Final Programme has narrative flaws and being of its time is undoubtedly still of its time… (how else could it be?). It serves as a reminder of the style and substance of the early 70s speculative fantasy and the fact that even the most fatalistic fiction had optimism at its heart.

Finch and Runacre are standouts in a strong cast that also includes Hugh Griffith and Harry Andrews.

Dusty Verdict: Well worth watching and on DVD…. Available here although it seems to have become expensively "collectable".