Oh behave! Naked as Nature Intended (1961)/ Secrets of a Windmill Girl (1966)

After being a double bill in 1966, these two exploitation films are released together again on a DVD that appeals to a cosy ideal of nostalgic titillation, an almost innocent time in which filmmakers had to be artful in sneaking sex into documentary and drama. Now there is also the cultural context that makes these films worth watching as well as the female nudity and the Internet Movie Car Database goes a bundle on the 1959 Austin A40 MkI, 1958 Bedford CAL Camper Mk2, 1956 Vauxhall Velox and others featured in Naked… whilst others are merely keen to see Pamela Green’s chassis (oh, come on!).

Naked as Nature Intended is the better of the two and, oddly enough, the most defensible in terms of an historic documentation of contemporary mores and holiday preference even though its stall is clearly laid out.  Produced and directed by the legendary George Harrison Marks it was a natural extension of his soft care 8mm work with girlfriend Pamela, following the relaxation of censorship rules. There’s a fascinating biography of Marks on IMDB from Gav Crimson which sets out his career trajectory from musical hall to hardcore and it’s also interesting that he made films for deaf children featuring Green and others. He was a filmmaker and not a pornographer although that phrase is so loaded isn’t it?

 

Naked is ostensibly an advert for nudism and an excuse to show as much of Pamela Green and her co-stars as possible but it also fits in genuine travelogue. Pamela is Pamela, one of three young women who are heading off for a break in Cornwall, her flatmate, Petrina (Petrina Forsyth) and their buddy Jackie (Jackie Salt… sensing a pattern in the naming of characters). They get petrol from a station where two other “girls” Angela (Angela Jones) and Bridget (Bridget Leonard) are also off west and the films follows their paths to the same destination. The dirty mac brigade need to be patient as it’s going to take almost two thirds of the film to get to see a lot of more of the five…

First up the girls see Stonehenge for a romp and then down through Devon for the beach at Clovelly and on to Cornwall for Tintagel and the Bedruthan Steps. There’s a lovely scene at the Minack Open Air Theatre where the trio interact with the rehearsing actors, so much pulchritude in Penzance.

They finally arrive in the golden sands near Land’s End where they meet Petrina and Bridget who persuade them to have a go at nudity and there’s lots of fun with an inflated beach ball and Pamela rolling around in a rock pool. It’s all very tastefully done – health and efficiency – and then they go to the nudist camp where P & B stay, to meet the residents and indulge in more swimsuit-free sport. This section was filmed at the Spielplatz Sun Camp nudist park in sunny Hertfordshire with lots of nudist extras who are generally less statuesque.

The Minack Open Air Theatre

 

Nudism seems to equate to freedom and there’s no “Cor blimey” moments just undercurrents, Anne and Bridget seem to be palling up and there’s a sense that everything goes when you’re nude with all the barriers down. The framing narrative was pretty much the only way the censors would pass a film with this much naked flesh and even than a clip of Pamela coming out of the shower in her flat was cut in case it gave the impression that she was in a relationship with Anne.

So, with its vintage home-movie charm, clean endless beaches and conscious asexuality, Naked feels nostalgic for its attitudes alone but there are some great sights on view not to mention the history and splendour of the Cornish coast! 

Pamela Green was famously in Michael Powell's Peeping Tom

Five years later in London, Pauline Collins was to encounter a far seedier side of the sex industry as her character tries to make her way as a showgirl at the famous Windmill Theatre. Directed by Arnold L Miller, Secrets of a Windmill Girl also has a secondary worth by capturing some of the acts who played at the theatre when it was still a mix of cabaret and coy striptease. There are full musical numbers, male comics and singers crooning over bongos to go with the full-scale musical productions used as the pretext for tableaux and fan dances still deployed in the mid-sixties to get past archaic regulation about too much “show”. If you’d gone in search of a raunchy night of nudity, you’d find yourself waiting through quite a lot of cabaret to get to the odd glimpse beyond the fans…

You’d also have to sit through the story of the “Windmill Girl” Pat, played by Collins who, even in her first feature film, is quite the actress, and, even with this script. The story starts with a drunken Pat getting into a sports car with an inebriated young man who, as the credits roll, proceeds to drive them both to their deaths. The police are called and Inspector Thomas (Derek Bond) then starts to interview her flatmate, Linda (April Wilding) who begins to recount the whole story…

They never closed you know...

Linda and Pat were childhood friends who always dreamed of dancing and ended up auditioning for the Windmill where Pat’s natural vivacity gets her selected and helps her to persuade Stage Manager, Mike (young Martin Jarvis) and lead dancer Peter (Peter Gordeno, later to captain the Skydiver One in Gerry Anderson’s UFO!) to hire them both. The two become introduced to a whole new world, attending parties with theatrical types including Harry (Harry Fowler) an impresario who wants to “help” her career and an older woman who shows an unusual interest in getting to know Pat… everything in code still!

The party has music from a statuesque folk singer played by Dana Gillespie, who deserves a post all of her own, she had been British Junior Water Skiing Champion in 1962 and met a 17-year-old David Bowie at London’s Marquee Club in the early sixties and went on to be his girlfriend, muse and friend into the seventies and the solo LP he producer for her, Weren’t Born a Man… 

 

Dana Gillespie

Back at the Windmill, we see more rehearsing – including an uncredited Aimi MacDonald – but we see very little of Pat and Linda actually dancing which creates a disconnect between the performances shown – the actual dancers and singers – and the rest of the story. It’s like a documentary mixed with drama and is less cohesive in this respect than the Naked film.

We also know exactly where things are heading courtesy of that opening and that a means will need to be found to lead to Pat’s downfall… the Windmill gradually goes out of style as raunchier reviews are allowed and the old song and dance routines are less important than pure striptease. The company breaks up - the theatre that "never closed" actually did in 1964 - and Pat, who had been naively hoping for a sugar daddy to give her a big part, gets left taking her clothes off in the back room of bars while Linda gets work in the legitimate theatre. 

 

Pauline Collins and April Wilding in Rupert Street Market, Walkers Court at the back

No matter how well Collins emotes, it’s hard for even her to convince with some of the lines and we’re left with a rather unconvincing progression into drunken party animal. This is even more jarring when you look at how professional the Windmill set up had been… this is not the secrets of a Windmill Girl but the unfortunate decision to accept a lift from a drunken man by an ex-Windmill Girl…

The film is also morally conflicted as it shows the full Windmill experience and not the striptease one which it implies is the cause of Pat’s downfall; “it’s you watching men who drove her to this!”. But maybe it's also mourning the demise of the old Revudeville professionalism in a time of growing sleaze?

One of the former Windmill fan dancers recreates her work for the film.

Dusty Verdict: All this said, Windmill Girl has its moments and if you like fan dancing look no further. By the same token, if you want beautiful naked bodies playing in the sand then you’ll like As Nature Intended… In fairness to Windmill Girl there is no doubt that the industry around the lower levels below the Windmill, was full of abuse and desperation so the story isn’t that off beam, but it could have been done better.That said, it's historically important because it captures some of the dancers and comedians who worked at the Windmill. There's also some grand footage of old Soho, familiar places that have changed so much and yet still remain... the old Windmill is still there, it's future as uncertain as every theatre in these strange times.

The DVD is available from Amazon and others, good value if undemanding and don’t forget all those marvellous cars! 

 

 

Aimie MacDonald (centre)

Great Windmill Street, that garage is now an NCP car park!

 

 

 

See Dudley Play… 30 Is a Dangerous Age, Cynthia (1968)

 

“… the most exhilarating part of it all was the music, mainly because I could indulge quite wantonly in all sorts of styles that were variously required for the different parts of the film.” Dudley Moore for the 1969 issue of the soundtrack 

One thing that gets my goat is the word “dated”. What does it really mean? Are people saying that just because something looks so much “of its time” that that’s a bad thing and also, shame on it for not having the foresight to take on board the sensibilities of future decades, for making the wrong choices about design and tone that would be just toe-curling in, say, fifty years’ time.

On a discussion board, one earnest fellow argued that Pink Floyd’s See Emily Play seemed to him to be “locked in the sixties, as psychedelic pop-rock…” but this is to view it in an un-historical way purely in the context of its relationship to a “now” it could never have seen coming. Syd’s Floyd were of their time – just as you and I are of ours – and you can still enjoy them for their musicality and the fact that they represent certain aspects of cultural style and musical development. Some of their choices may still be well regarded as they represent strands that not only influenced modern music but which also remain popular in of themselves. For instance, we still have indie guitar bands that play in similar ways even if they do not revere Syd Barrett, they’re making music that shares spirit and technique. 

Any view on “dated” is purely subjective but you can’t get away from the fact that music made in 1967 was for 1967 and not intended to be still fresh and timeless in 2020. Yet as an emblem of progressive rock from that period The Pink Floyd remain outstanding and, on that level, I’m glad their creations are “dated” if you see what I mean?

Suzy Kendall in a psychedelic scene

How does this apply to Dudley Moore’s 30 Is a Dangerous Age, Cynthia then I hear you ask? Well, very much so in terms of the style of comedy as well as the fashions on display in terms of clothing, humour and the whole mise-en-scène: it is undeniably of its time and therefore 52 years “dated” in relation to now. So, I watched it because I wanted a film of this vintage, one that showed Dudley Moore striking out on his own without Mr Cooke and, yes, because it featured the sublime Suzy Kendall, then married to Dudley Moore. I also watched because I have the soundtrack to the film on vinyl – a mono original pressing from 1968 – and because this film features The Dudley Moore Trio in one superb scene, playing live and loving it.

For those who always feel somehow sorry for Dudley Moore, and that he was in some way overshadowed by his more edgy partner, here I present is the case against: one, he was the better actor, two he was a top-rank composer and musician and three, Suzy Kendall! Moore was over-laden with ability and whilst this film is not a five-star work of genius it is likeable, stylish and still funny representing that Oxbridge comedy that, Beyond the Fringe – and Footlights – is still informing today’s comedians, writers and film-makers not to mention our, seriously un-funny, politicians.

Dudley and the Trio

As it happens, in the context of ability versus achievement, the film is very much concerned with the illusion of false targets. Dudley plays an aspiring composer, Rupert Street (which leads up into Soho and many a club and bar…) who plays jazz for a living and who is determined to tick off certain key life goals before he turns 30. We see him at the start of the picture trying to arrange his marriage date before he has even found a woman to propose to. The registrar, played by Frank Thornton (latterly Captain Peacock) throws him out onto the streets of Marylebone where he imagines a leggy dolly bird as his, much taller, bride.

Rupert works at Jock’s Box run by Jock McCue (the excellent Duncan Macrae!) but he has agreed to write his first musical if, that is, he can get the whole thing written in the few months before, you guessed it, his 30^th birthday. He’s manged by Oscar (Eddie Foy, Jr.), an old stager with a can-do attitude and carrying the ever-present threat of “hoofing” and, whilst the pressure is on, if Handel could The Messiah in six weeks, surely Rupert can cobble together a musical. Cue a drift into a dream of bewigged musical and marital success with accompanying musical pastiche that Moore was so adept at performing. He arrives back at his flat still in character, reading a copy of his buddy’s Private Eye (Peter Cook being one of the founding fathers) now there’s something that has remained current!

The sublime Suzy and Dud

Moore was 32 at the time and had missed this target himself by two years when he married the sublime Suzy Kendall who co-stars in the film as his seemingly unobtainable and impossibly lovely next-door neighbour Louise. He meets her as she’s having a telephone argument with Paul (Nicky Henson… always so convincing in these parts!) the latest in a long line of men who’s looks promise far more than their morality delivers. Dudley’s smitten but surely out of his league… but he’s soon daydreaming of Louise as a bride and himself as a shorter Rudolph Valentino in The Sheik, ready to whisk her away to his tent for an in-tents experience, or maybe Fred Astaire, or a cowboy or a stock-car racer? 

Rupert’s imagination runs riot, but Louise invites him in for tea where he discovers that she is an artist who also teaches. He plays her one of his songs, which starts off with a fee upper class introduction before – in his head – they are transported to an ultra-modern discotheque, surrounded by appreciative scenesters as he bellows out an r n’ b (sixties style) song – The Real Stuff - and Louise go-go dances. Back in the room, they embrace and the improbable seems to be happening. 

But still there is Paul and an altercation outside Jock’s Box leaves Rupert with a broken arm – and you should see the other fella… - which is set in plaster at 90 degrees making it impossible to play. With the pressure mounting from impresario Victor (Peter Bayliss) and his mysterious backers the Honourable Gavin Hopton (John Wells who co-scripted) and Captain Gore-Taylor (Jonathan Routh).

Old Hollywood in Victor's pad

Slightly discouraged by Louise’s need to find her own career path and the ever-dwindling timeline, Rupert heads off to Dublin for inspiration, hundreds of coffees and some more fantasy. Finally, he meets a mysterious story teller (Micheál MacLiammóir) who tells him of The Golden Legend of Erin, an Irish fairy tale he visualises as featuring himself and Louise with Jock playing the evil baddie who tries to separate the lovers. 

He returns home and production starts but he now needs to find Louise who has seemingly disappeared in Birmingham. Will the lovers be re-united, will the play be any good, will John Bird turn up as northern PI with a Sam Spade fixation, Herbert Greenslade, years before Albert Finney in Gumshoe? Well, you’ll have to watch it to find out!

Dusty verdict: Released in March 1968 it already feels more like a 1966 film than a 1967 one, fashions and mood were changing so quickly and unevenly. It is a charming film that retains its humorous appeal thanks to both leads’ watchability and Dudley’s comedic restraint; he’s got more natural instinct here than many and his satire is always informed and gently effective.

His music is indeed among the best parts of the film from the delicious lines of Waltz for Suzy – proof enough of the couple’s affection even without the obvious chemistry between the two – to the quasi-orchestral Legend theme for the Irish tale. The score is an eclectic mix from the splendid folk pastiche of Madrigal to the big-band moods of The Detective, John Bird couldn’t have hoped for a more impressive musical signature. But what I enjoyed most of all was seeing Dud performing Rupert’s Romp, with his actual trio – Chris Karan on drums and Pete McGurk on double bass – at Jock’s Box. You can see them having an absolute blast and Dudley’s smile is the warmest and most genuine in the film and so is the watching Louise/Suzie… this is what they both knew he loved doing the most.

Joseph McGrath directs effectively and his supporting cast are superb with excellent work from Birkenhead’s finest Patricia Routledge and Larne’s Harry Towb as Rupert’s landlords as well as cameos from Clive Dunn as a Doctor (not butcher…) and Derek Farr as a TV announcer.

30 Is a Dangerous Age, Cynthia is sadly not available on digital release which is a shame as it’s a fine example of Dudley doing what he did best.