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.