The non-conformist… Bartleby (1970)

I confess that I was in the mood for a more ebullient film and confused this with Alan Bates’ Butley (1974) but once you start watching John McEnery’s turn as the almost impenetrable Bartleby it’s hard to look away. This film is as emotionally intelligent as they come and provides a puzzle for the audience and performers alike with a character who behaves in ways that are often painful to watch and which speak to our insecurities and the instinctive need to not only respond in kind to others’ prompting but to conform in most of what we do. Society expects and there’s a good adaptive instinct behind that but to every rule there must be an exception and, perhaps the main character is one of those accidents of nature that leads nowhere or somewhere depending on your point of view.

The film is an adaptation of the short story Bartleby, the Scrivener; A Story of Wall-street (1853) written by Herman Melville apparently in reaction to the disappointing sales of Moby Dick and Pierre, his preceding novel. As such it’s source story of possibly about depression and alienation, but updated and relocated to London, by director Anthony Friedman who co-scripted with Rodney Carr-Smith, its meaning is less hard to pin down. The main character is withdrawn and, in being so, pulls in his employer, an accountant played by the masterly Paul Scofield whose commercial concerns are replaced by an enigmatic concern for the other’s well-being even as he exasperates and frustrates him.

John McEnery

The film also provides something of a city symphony with extensive locations showing the London of 1970 and there is much fun to be had in spotting streets and buildings that are familiar and yet long changed, this is an aftertaste of a city we all take for granted and yet which never gives us pause for breath. Bartleby is first seen on a train heading into Euston where he puts his luggage into a locker and after a tube journey – Northern Line? - emerges into the bright London light and immediately looks out of place in the concrete jungle as commuters mill around the temporary walkways around London Bridge.

Bartleby is looking for work and we see flashbacks of his previous position in a Post Office sorting office as he trudges the streets, a look of vague dissatisfaction and wariness indicating a troubled past and a troubling present. McEnery manages to convey everything and almost nothing and whilst depression may have been on the script there’s a ringing familiarity with Asperger’s and autism speaking as a member of an autistic family. Diagnoses were rarer in 1970 but today we’re seeing what was 1% of the population on the spectrum steadily growing through better diagnosis – it’s a cliché but neurotypicality is a broad spectrum in itself as is the atypical ASD person; it’s not a monolithic condition and every single person has supposedly contraindicating “spikes”.

McEnery’s Bartleby presents in similar ways one of which is that he always tells the truth no matter how inconvenient that is; he doesn’t mean to be difficult, he is just saying how he feels at that particular point. What he faces is a monumental absence of sympathy and even the concern of his fellow workers doesn’t go anywhere deep enough to make a connection.

The Office (1970)

Bartleby passes the test to get a job as a clerk at the accountancy firm run by Scofield’s accountant and, despite his odd refusal to discuss anything other than what he has written on his application, he clearly knows how to keep books and, naturally, we all assume this will be the beginning of his “fitting in”. Everyone masks their true feelings in the workplace to some extent, I’ve passed psychometric tests I shouldn’t have and we all know what behaviours are expected (unless you work for GB News…). The anticipation of our hero doing the same is quickly vanished by his polite refusal to fit in with his co-workers, Tucker (Colin Jeavons), Dickinson (Tony Parkin), Miss Borwn the secretary (Rosalind Elliot), office lad (the mighty Robin Askwith) and even the tea lady, Hilda (Hope Jackman) who try but are politely rebuffed.

Then Bartleby startles the head accountant by refusing to do a task - I don't feel I can. Just at the moment - this sets the older man back and he tries again, still patiently asking what he means only to be told that his clerk would prefer not to explain. The next morning Bartleby offers the same explanation and the mantra of I prefer not to becomes more frequent even as he continues with some tasks and not others.

In between these moments of escalating conflict, the young man wanders the city, looking on in fascination at the old Starling murmuration in Leicester Square and emblem of a tight knit “society” all the birds flying in close formation, never colliding and swooping down on the insects that are their reward for joint enterprise…

John and Paul

The Accountant’s friend, played by Thorley Walters, asks him why he doesn’t just sack Bartleby but he is determined to try and help the man. He tries all reasoning and, even when he discovers that Bartleby is sleeping in the office overnight, can’t bring himself to refuse him another chance. The Accountant becomes the focus as the narrative darkens and we are all Paul Scofield as his movable force meets this irresistible object.

Dusty Verdict: It’s a truly fascinating contest with both Scofield and McEnery leaving everything on the pitch and leaving the viewer with plenty of take-aways. What the film lacks in action it makes for with questions and the locations only serve to remind us that this is the capital we still walk and that, by and large, we still must walk the same talk.

Why would someone take the hard way out? Perhaps there are some like Bartleby who simply have to. It’s not a preference but something, perhaps the only thing, they cannot say no to.

  

 

Chiswell Street between the Barbican and Moorgate

 

Grimsby Street off Brick Lane

Hungerford Bridge heading north

Piccadilly - definitely Let it be...

This and above St Alphage Highwalk near Moorgate

Rupert Street heading south from Soho

 

 

 

A constable carry-on. All Coppers Are... (1972), Network Blu-ray out now!!

My second time around with All Coppers Are and it grows more impressive as I wonder what my father, a copper himself, albeit in Liverpool, would have made of it.

The film was directed by Sidney Hayers from a script adapted from his own novel by Allan Prior (folk singer Maddy’s father), the founder-writer of ground-breaking, Merseyside police drama Z-Cars (with Troy Kennedy Martin), and spin-off series Softly, Softly. Prior was expert in police procedural narrative and also knew how to write about the police experience off duty, here in a tough part of London with more suspicion than perhaps in most parts of the Northwest.

The producer was, surprisingly, Carry on’s Peter Rogers and there’s even a music score from Gerald Thomas which, though it very occasionally reminds you of his more light-hearted work, generally supports the action well. The film certainly wanted to hit hard in the manner of Get Carter and there’s even a sinister turn from Ian Hendry, rather more menacing than his character in that film.

The power station... where's the pig?

What strikes me most of all is the tremendous sense of place in the film, as we start with a shot across the Thames of the old Battersea Power Station and down to the lone Constable Joe (Martin Potter) on the beat in his native Battersea. This area, and Clapham, are still very recognisable for any of us commuters who’ve had the daily pleasure of watching the old power station be turned into a modernistic mess by soulless developers. Back in the early 70s it was still working and, a few years before Floyd’s Pink Pig flew overhead, the area was charcoal grey, smothered in coal dust and exhaust fumes. Joe spots a young Robin Asquith attempting to steal a car and gives chase over to the slag heaps at the power station.

Martin Potter has a detachment which suits Joe’s self-doubt and whilst these are characteristics well used by Federico Fellini, who cast him as Encolpius in his striking Satyricon, we’re in Battersea now and Potter seems a little lost even as he draws the eye with screen presence. Joe is still unformed and just about the only thing he is convinced about is his job, he has a young child with pretty wife Peg (Wendy Allnutt, once described by Dennis Potter as “paralyzingly beautiful”) who he married in haste after the unexpected result of their short relationship forced their hand. Yes, even in 1972.

Martin Potter

Wendy was at drama school with Martin Potter and this undoubtedly helped their chemistry in their uncertain marriage. Wendy’s recollections in the accompanying interview are revelatory in terms of the location, the bleakest part of Battersea was chosen for their flat and also the wedding party, filled with “characters”, director Sidney Hayers’ efficiency and the whole shoot which was a positive experience: “a fun movie to make”. She even enjoyed working with the baby having no experience with such creatures. On second viewing the couple’s relationship makes for a more convincing arc, as Joe, especially, will learn a lot about himself over the course of events.

The script covers a lot of ground and is what buoys it aloft above the dangerous terrain of un-gritty is the expressive intensity of Julia Foster; she is the class act here and acts with a subtlety and nuanced grace that gives Coppers an emotional anchor it would otherwise lack. She has an emotional openness as well as a perfectly proportioned face which made me, fall in love with her during the course of that play and every time I’ve seen her since, from Alfie, Half a Sixpence, The Small World of Sammy Lee, to the recent Dad’s Army film and Dr Who, she has never failed to impress. At this point she was 29, more than ten years into her career, and she gives the World-weary assurance you expect as Sue, a woman who has already known too much disappointment and is cautiously looking at all those around her not to fail her.

Julia Foster toughens up for this role

Chief among life’s disappointments has been her mother (Sandra Dorne) who has shacked up with another freeloading boyfriend, Jock (Glynn Edwards) who, to say the least, is a little grabby when it comes to his “daughter in law”. But it’s her own relationships that cause Sue the most grief and more than once bitten she is very shy of new mistakes.

The third of our leads, small time hustler Barry (Nicky Henson a long way from Charterhouse in this neck of the woods…) who is keeping a watch on a warehouse where he’s planning a robbery. He has a room in a house run by Mrs. Briggs (Carmel McSharry) whose son, Ronnie is played by one David Essex whose next film would be That’ll be the Day. They invite Barry to a wedding reception where he meets and fancies Sue who meets and fancies Joe. After a few drinks they head off to the embankment for some larks and champagne, quickly bonding as friends as the triangle of affection solidifies.

Now, Joe, if you remember, because he’s forgetting… is married but he’s smitten with Sue and the two end up together for the night only for Joe’s conscience to finally kick in as he tries to brush her off. She turns her attention to Barry but the two run into Joe again in a pub run by the Malloys, Eddie Byrne and Queenie Watts - now there’s a surprise. Joe gets the cold shoulder as a copper but its only after he calmly administers first aid to a stricken pensioner that Sue and Barry discover his day job.

Nicky Henson cases the joint

That’s it for Barry, obviously, but Sue, so disappointed to discover his marital state, is more sympathetic… In the absence of anything better though she has ended up living with Barry and, against the odds believes he a) may be honest and b) has work to take them away from SW11. She may have seen it all but she still has a hopeful naivety.

Time for Ian Hendry as sinister Sonny Wade, who brings the Get Carter grit with knowing menace enhanced by his friend Fancy Boy (David Baxter). Hendry’s radiates febrile threat with every quiver, a man of criminal passion who’s flawed ruthlessness presents Barry with a situation only a desperate man would accept, he has little to gain if he delivers the stolen goods to Sonny and everything to lose.

Cue, the finale and some unexpectedly dramatic twists and turns.

Friends forced apart

Before this though there is a well-realised, almost too real, sequence where Joe and his colleagues have to confront a protest march. It’s brutal stuff with truncheons flying before police horses arrive to kettle the ring leaders. Was this a comment on the political upset of the time – the nature of the protest is ill-defined, something about “fascists” and “student grants”, or just a means of showing how the Coppers, “bastards” though they may be, have a tough job to do. It could just be gratuitous of course, a tick of the “counterculture” box but stuntman Chris Webb reveals in his interview that some of the extras got a bit too carried away.

First assistant editor, Jonathan Morris, is also interviewed about the work and he praises Hayers’ approach especially as he had started as a film editor and was very proficient from the point of view of the cutting room, his shots cutting together smoothly, and given the budget, very efficiently!

Dusty verdict: The digital transfer is sparkling and the watching experience is more enjoyable than previous releases. It’s meditation of the role of coppers in society is still a valid one and the character’s struggle to find themselves all too real, especially given magnificent turns from Foster and Henson especially. Julia Foster makes us believe in Sue, and her flawed judgement - but, despite a decent performance, I’m not entirely convinced by Henson’s Battersea boy Barry, he seems too smart to take on this risky job. As for Joe, Martin Potter is sometimes absent without leave and at times magnetic given his conflicted existence. Yet, you care about these characters in the end even whilst feeling that there should have been more to care about in terms of their available life choices.

The release comes with excellent extras including the interviews directed by Chris McCabe, with actor Wendy Allnutt, 1st assistant editor Jonathan Morris and stuntman Chris Webb. Morris is especially insightful given his role but it’s great to have the context from all three. There’s also a very informative booklet essay from Adrian Smith along with an image gallery and trailer.

Sue finds out the truth about Joe...

So, a massive upgrade on the DVD and a very interesting title that’s a must-have for fans of the period as well as the splendid cast.

You can order direct from Network – and you will not be disappointed!

Looking shifty Mr Askwith

Wendy Allnutt: Dennis Potter not wrong.