M K Aston

Film Review: Double Indemnity

Well, yesterday it happened to me again (and I don’t mean another bout of embarrassing public itching). I watched an amazing old movie for the first time and wondered how on earth it is I’d never seen it before. ‘Course, I’d heard of it somewhere, sometime but never felt inclined to watch it. Maybe it’s the film’s title, I don’t know. But having recently read a biography of Raymond Chandler – that wittiest and most influential of all hard-boiled crime writers – and learning that he had, in the 40s, worked as a screenwriter in Hollywood and had in fact co-written Double Indemnity, I sought it out and gave it a viewing.

Chandler is perhaps most famous for creating the character of Phillip Marlowe, the private detective that was made universally famous by Humphrey Bogart in The Big Sleep in 1946. His distinct writing style and in particular, his ability to pen incredible dialogue has been often parodied but never bettered. This “Chandleresque” touch is clearly evident in Double Indemnity as the actors deliver their lines.

The story, based on a novella of the same name by James M. Cain, begins when Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) an insurance salesman for Pacific All Risk makes a routine house call on Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck) to renew her husband’s car insurance policy. There is an instant attraction between the two and plenty of flirting takes place until she asks about taking out a life insurance policy on her husband without his knowledge. Neff understands immediately that she has murder in mind and does what any sane insurance man would do and gets the hell out of there. But later that evening, she turns up at his apartment and continues to seduce him and before long, his gullibility and lust for her vanquishes his caution and the two agree to kill her old man.

Neff, being a hotshot insurance man, knows all the tricks of the business and comes up with a foolproof plan to get rid of Mr Dietrichson in such an unlikely way that it will trigger the “double indemnity” clause of the policy thereby making Pacific All Risk liable to pay Phyllis twice the policy amount of $50,000. The plan (which I won’t divulge so as not to spoil the film for those of you who haven’t seen it) goes off pretty smoothly and before you know it, the mourning Mrs Dietrichson is preparing to get her blood-stained hands on the dough.

But Neff’s friend and colleague at Pacific All Risk, Barton Keyes (Edward G. Robinson, who plays a claims investigator) begins to smell a rat and although the head of the company believes the death to be suicide and is willing to settle the claim, Keyes persuades him otherwise by quoting a bunch of statistics on the probability of suicide. There are further complications for Neff when he becomes friendly with the victims daughter who believes Phyllis is responsible for her father’s death and…under the masterful direction of Billy Wilder the tension grows and grows.

As a film noir, it really is one of the finest American examples and clearly set the standard for those of the genre that would follow. The dialogue is a thing of beauty (typical Chandler), the acting is faultless – particularly Edward G. Robinson who in my opinion steals every scene he’s in – and the black and white cinematography is superb. The way they used light and shadow and silhouettes in those days was simply genius. It was nominated for seven Oscars but bizarrely failed to win any but in recent years it has been recognised in all manner of the American Film Institute’s 100 Years…100 something or other categories.

Stanwyck plays her femme fatale with controlled coolness and MacMurray is ideally cast as the charming yet somewhat weak willed louse. It’s interesting to note they were both playing against type in these roles and equally interesting that they were also the two highest paid stars in Hollywood around the time of filming. Robinson is always value for money and despite being third on the bill, he received the same pay as the two leads. To watch the scene where he’s spouting statistics is to watch a true pro at work. Sublime stuff. And if you don’t blink, you’ll even see Raymond Chandler in a one-off cameo (and the only known film footage of him in existence), sitting in a chair as Neff walks by on his way from Keyes’ office.

The film noir genre is probably something that I’ll come back to soon because there are a great many movies worth writing about and watching but for now, if you’re in a mind to watch just one, watch this one. You won’t be disappointed.

Formula One on the streets of London

I spy rumours around the Internet that one possible future usage of the Olympic Stadium could be a Formula One race circuit. Apparently, Intelligent Transport Solutions Ltd of London have been in discussion with F1 supremo Bernie Ecclestone regarding the prospect of bringing the world’s most glamourous high-octane circus to town. And what a prospect it is!

The route would likely see McLarens, Ferraris et al racing inside the stadium as well as around the Olympic Park and while it wouldn’t have the added glamour of multi-million dollar yachts moored casually nearby like Astra vans parked in a supermarket car park as does Monaco or Abu Dhabi, it would have impressively modern facilities and arguably one of the more scenic circuits on the calendar . I don’t know about you but the promise of twenty or so V8s screaming around a manicured park in the East End of London is a mouthwatering one.

Yes, I know what you’re thinking – “They’ve been talking about a London street circuit for years” – and while that’s true, it seems a lot more likely to happen now that there is a suitable site that can be used without bringing the capital to a complete standstill. Although Ecclestone has elsewhere stated that plans for a London circuit that would take in such landmarks as Buckingham Palace and Big Ben were “no joke”, I find it a little harder to imagine cars racing down Whitehall, navigating the Parliament Square chicane and hitting the Birdcage Walk DRS zone than I do around the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. Logistically, the new site would be much less of a headache for the organisers.

Of course, Silverstone, the current home of the British Grand Prix is scheduled to host the event for the next 17 years and much investment has and is being injected into the site because of this however, this doesn’t put a lid on the Olympic Stadium proposal. It simply means the UK would host two, count them, two Grand Prix meetings each season. So, all you race fans out there, how cool would that be?

Film Review: Went The Day Well?

Summon up an image of a quintessential picturesque English village and it’s quite likely you’ll get somewhere close to Bramley End, the fictitious setting for this 1942 WWII drama. Surrounded by rolling countryside, bees hum in untended hedgerows and butterflies flutter by in the warm spring sunshine. Narrow country lanes connect Bramley End to the neighbouring village of Upton Ferrars nearly seven miles away. There are picture-postcard cottages aplenty, their windows and front doors half obscured by climbing roses and honeysuckle and a church at the heart of the village and the church is our first stop as the film’s opening titles end. It’s here that a friendly pipe-smoking local welcomes us with a “Good day to you,” and leads us to the unusual memorial that we have no doubt come to see. It’s unusual because it has the names of German soldiers written on it. German names in an English graveyard? How bizarre. The local then proceeds to tell us how such a thing came about.

Saturday morning on a sunny Whitsun weekend in 1942 and a group of lorries filled with British soldiers rolls into the village. Apparently on an exercise of some sort for three days, they ask the villages for billeting for sixty men who, once the arrangements are made, settle into various houses around the village as well as the village hall. The villagers see it all as frightfully exciting and welcome them gladly but it doesn’t take long for them to discover that the soldiers are actually Nazis forming the vanguard of a German invasion of England. With their cover now blown, the Germans round up the villagers and lock them in the church while the children are held captive in the local manor house and supervised by the kind matronly lady of the manor. An attempt by those locked in the church to escape and get word to the neighbouring village is thwarted by a traitor among them, the village squire (played by Leslie Banks) who is revealed to be collaborating with the Nazis.

That night at the manor, a plucky young lad named George shins down a drainpipe after lights out and escapes into the woods to get help from Upton while at the same time, a group of extremely stiff upper lips finally manage to overpower their Nazi guards at the church. There follows numerous gun-butts to Nazi heads, a lot of gunfire and plenty of heroics from the stoic and defiant locals and just as their bullets are running out, a force of nearby British soldiers arrives to bring an end to proceedings. Oh, and as for the traitor….well, you’ll just have to see for yourself. All in all, a nicely shot little film from Ealing Studios with a cast packed full of familiar faces, some that you’ve never seen so young – if you thought Thora Hird was born a bespectacled granny then check this out; it was her first major role and she was a 31year old sweetheart.

But what marks this film out as truly interesting is its propaganda quality. Bearing in mind it was made when the Second World War still had two years to go, the introduction that the pipe-wielding local gives us at the start of the movie is a post-war one. He speaks of the newspapers calling the event at the village “The Battle at Bramley End” but that nothing was said of it until after the war was over and “old Hilter got what was coming to him.” One can only guess the impact such a film would have had on its audience, particularly one that knew all too well that the only thing separating them from occupied Europe was a narrow strip of water. Hitler’s planned invasion of the UK “Operation Sea Lion” may have been indefinitely postponed by 1942 (due in part to the Germans not having air superiority over the channel) but to a war-weary British public, the threat must have still been real and constantly in the backs of their minds. What this film did was to show the audience that even if such a thing were to happen and Nazis did land on British soil, with cool heads, brave heart and plucky British spirit, the Germans wouldn’t stand a chance. Simply put, evil would never triumph over good and the Nazis were the personification of evil.

Based on a short story entitled “The Lieutenant Died Last” by the English author Graham Greene, Went the Day Well? was directed by Brazilian born Alberto Cavalcanti who would go on to make a handful of films for Ealing Studios in the 40s most notably, “Champagne Charlie” and “Nicholas Nickleby”. The film’s reputation has grown significantly with the passing of time and in 2005 it was named as one of the “100 Greatest War Films” in a Channel 4 poll in the UK. In 2010, the British Film Institute National Archive released a restored version of the film and it was met with critical acclaim. I think Tom Huddleston of Time Out London summed it up perfectly by writing that it was “jawdroppingly subversive. Cavalcanti establishes, with loving care and the occasional wry wink, the ultimate bucolic English scene, then takes an almost sadistic delight in tearing it to bloody shreds in an orgy of shockingly blunt, matter-of-fact violence.”

Went The Day Well? is a great little film and a window into a time and a place that has long gone and yet to watch it and to understand its message is to truly find respect for the men, women and children that lived through those dark years of Nazi terror. A classic in every sense.

The Invaders – Classic Sci-Fi TV

“The Invaders. Alien beings from a dying planet. Their destination, the Earth. Their purpose, to make it their world. David Vincent has seen them. For him, it began one lost night on a lonely country road, looking for a shortcut that he never found…”

So begins, what is for me, unarguably the most atmospheric opening title sequence to any TV show ever made.

I remember watching this show when I was a kid during school holidays and its depiction of one man’s crusade against an alien invasion absolutely fascinated me. Watching it again today thrills me no less, and possibly even more because now I can appreciate it for its subtext, the general processes that went in to filming it and of course, the nostalgia – perfectly tailored slim-fitting suits (fashionable once again) and gas-guzzling cars with chewing gum suspension and Batmobile-like rear fins over chrome bumpers so deep and wide you could stretch out and sleep on them. Having been made almost half a century ago, there are certain things about the show that are a little simple but overall it holds up very well for a contemporary audience, particularly if one bears in mind the era in which it was made.

Roy Thinnes plays architect David Vincent, who one night witnesses the landing of a flying saucer and subsequently learns of an alien plot to take over the world. However, when he attempts to convince the authorities of his discovery he is not believed and is considered to be a bit of a crackpot. Thereafter, every episode begins with Vincent turning up at random locations around the U.S. with the belief that the weird or unexplained occurrence he has learned of in the area is alien in nature and therefore worthy of investigation in the hope that he can get his hands on some proof to back up his wild claim. Sadly for him, obtaining that proof is not as easy as he would like because the aliens are a resourceful bunch and experts at disappearing without a trace. More often than not, Vincent winds up at the end of each episode back at square one, no closer to being able to show the world the truth. Although, giving the man credit, he usually manages to scupper whatever plans the aliens were up to.

The reasons this show worked so well were numerous, not least because of the central concept of one man, a hero figure, fighting against a seemingly invisible force in order to save mankind. Many of the greatest stories ever told have that saviour figure at their core. Then there was the element of paranoia rooted deep within the American psyche at the time thanks to the “Red-Scare” a decade earlier and the lingering fear that communists were infiltrating every level of society with the intention of influencing and undermining the American way of life. Invasion of the Body Snatchers made in 1956 clearly reflected this obsession and was a definite precedent for The Invaders. But then, the same concern is still relevant today as we are all uncomfortably aware of the difficultly in trying to recognise a deadly enemy with a few pounds of Semtex strapped around their waist when they look, dress and talk just like the rest of us.

The Invaders was a finely put together show with excellent production values thanks to producer Quinn Martin who was at the time, already a big noise in television. Much of the filming was done on location which injected a measure of realism into the show too and the writing was gritty and generally dark in nature. There were no happy endings to this show; at best an episode would end with a mild sense of accomplishment and relief – yes, a single battle won but let’s not forget the main war continues.

Thinnes as Vincent was perfectly cast as the lonely hero and never failed to convince me of the nightmare world he inhabited. He was certainly a capable actor in the action scenes and although he made Vincent likeable, he portrayed him as a man carrying the burden of not being able to trust anyone, of harbouring utter hatred for the invader for destroying the life that he had had and essentially forcing him into a life on the road to continually pursue or be pursued. The show also had plenty of guest stars to keep things interesting and the acting was generally top-notch.

The wonderfully evocative theme tune composed by Dominic Frontiere (a regular of Quinn Martin productions) together with the opening titles that allows us to see aliens aboard a space ship heading towards Earth while a deep, leaden voice narrates the introduction are incredibly atmospheric and have been etched on my memory forever. Seriously, if you’re a sci-fi fan who enjoys shows like the X-Files and Dark Skies but you’ve never seen The Invaders, then I highly recommend you check it out. It only ran for two seasons and a mere 43 episodes were aired between January ’67 and March ’68 but it’s gritty, intelligent science fiction and well worth viewing.

Film Review: School For Scoundrels

For me, the fact that this film stars Terry-Thomas makes it worth watching. Throw in the wonderful talents of Alistair Sim and Ian Carmichael and you have three of the biggest stars from Britain’s golden age of cinema. Terry-Thomas has always fascinated me, even when I was a child. Whether he was oozing villainous charm dressed and manicured as a perfect cad while fawning over some young lovely or blustering dastardliness as his suave persona fell apart when events turned against him he was and still is wonderfully entertaining. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the definition of the word “Dastardly” in any reputable dictionary said something about a Terry-Thomas character being up to his neck in some plan or other. In fact, the cartoon character Dick Dastardly from the Wacky Races kids TV show was essentially a caricature of Terry-Thomas.

The plot of the film is fairly simple. Ian Carmichael plays Henry Palfrey, a mild-mannered young man and ineffectual businessman who considers himself a failure. Everyone from his employees to his tennis club pals seem to take little notice of him and so he enrols in the “School of Lifemanship” run by Dr. Potter (Alistair Sim) who explains to his class of new students that “Lifemanship is the science of being one up on your opponents at all times. It is the art of making him feel that somewhere, somehow he has become less than you – less desirable, less worthy, less blessed.”

After the good doctor surmises that a woman must be involved when interviewing Palfrey, we see Palfrey recount in flashback how he came to meet the lovely April Smith (Janette Scott) by bumping into her getting off a bus and how his carefully planned dinner date was ruined by Raymond Delauney (Terry-Thomas). There’s a wonderful scene where Palfrey arrives with his charming date at the restaurant only to be refused entry by the maître d’ (a brilliantly snobbish turn by the marvellous John Le Mesurier) because of some mix up with the name of the booking. Unfortunately for Palfrey, before he acts on April’s advice that they go elsewhere to eat, Delauney saunters into the restaurant and, being a casual acquaintance of Palfrey through the tennis club, invites him and (more importantly) his date to join him at his table. Delauney then proceeds to spend the entire evening seducing April and in a perfect example of one-upmanship, reduces Palfrey’s fragile ego even further by getting him to foot the bill. Palfrey then makes several further puny attempts to impress his new girlfriend, including buying a car and trying to prove his tennis prowess against Delauney but fails on both accounts miserably.

Then the flashback ends and we concentrate on Palfrey’s time at the school and how quickly he picks up the art of gaining the upper hand in any given situation. The film then follows him using his newly-acquired skills as he gets his own back on pretty much everyone who had looked down on him earlier. Hilarity ensues as we see how easily he trumps Delauney’s caddish behaviour by becoming an even bigger and more skilful cad himself. However, it’s not all plain sailing for him and…at which point I’ll say no more.

School for Scoundrels is definitely worth checking out as it’s one of those charming black and white comedies that Britain made so well in the ’50s and ’60s. There’s also a wonderful sense of nostalgia to be enjoyed when seeing parts of London as they were half a century ago, when roads were clearer, trees were more abundant and social etiquette was still bordering on formal. That and three of the finest comic talents from the era. Absolutely one to be enjoyed. One final word of caution though: don’t suppose for a minute that the 2006 Hollywood remake starring Billy Bob Thornton will be in the same league.

Film Review: The Man Who Never Was

I’m even more excited than usual to be writing a review of this British-made Second World War drama because not only does it tell an incredible story based on actual wartime events but also because it follows on rather satisfyingly from an earlier article I scribbled entitled ‘Podcasts – an alternative to bad TV’. For it was while listening to a podcast from the unfailingly listenable Sarah and Deblina from ‘Stuff You Missed In History Class’ that I learned all about “Operation Mincemeat” – a highly devious and clandestine plan British Intelligence cooked up in 1943 to deceive the Nazis into thinking a planned Allied invasion of Sicily would take place elsewhere.

The Man Who Never Was was made in 1956 and, directed by that stalwart of British cinema Ronald Neame, it tells how that deception was accomplished. Neame produced such celebrated pictures as Brief Encounter, Great Expectations and Oliver Twist in the 1940s before turning director in ’47 and delivering such cinematic gold as Tunes of Glory, The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie and The Poseidon Adventure. His career, from humble assistant cameraman on the first ever “talkie” made in England went on to span six decades and he was awarded the CBE in the 1996 Queen’s Birthday Honours List for his services to the film industry.

The film is based on the book of the same name by Ewen Montagu who, while serving as a Lt. Cmdr. in Naval intelligence during WWII was responsible for conceiving “Operation Mincemeat”. Clifton Webb portrays him in the picture. The premise of the story is that in order to attempt to divert German forces away from Sicily, an invasion of which the Allies have planned in order to open up the Mediterranean to Allied shipping, a deception is needed to convince the Germans that the Allied objective is really Greece and Sardinia.

“Operation Mincemeat” came into being when an idea was suggested to Montagu early in 1943 that if a dead man carrying top-secret documents which contained intelligence about a fake invasion was to fall into enemy hands and that if those documents were convincing enough to be believed, the Germans might move part of their forces from Sicily to Greece and Sardinia, thereby sparing the lives of countless Allied troops during the real invasion. Of course, even if the plan was given the green light by his superiors, where would Montagu get a dead body and if he did, what of the moral dilemma? After all, “Every body belongs to somebody and it isn’t a thing people want messed about” runs a line in the film. Also how would Montagu convince the Germans that the dead body was the sort of person who would be carrying such sensitive documents and equally, how would he convince them that the documents themselves are genuine etc etc? It’s almost guaranteed that the German High Command would investigate the man and the documents for authenticity.

It’s an absolutely fascinating story and the film does a great job of re-telling it. The lengths that Montagu and his small team go to to create a fictitious “life” for the corpse that they acquire is extraordinary – the dead body belonged to a Welsh man named Glyndwr Michael in life but then became Captain William Martin of the Royal Marines in death. Even though the film adds just a little fictitious sparkle to proceedings, the level of detail written into the screenplay lends the film a great sense of realism. The pace throughout the hundred or so minutes of the movie is steady rather than spectacular but it promotes genuine intrigue and it builds to a wonderfully tense conclusion thanks to the introduction of an Irish spy played by Stephen Boyd. Although this latter character was a complete fabrication, Montagu later said he was happy with it because despite the fact that there wasn’t a spy involved, there may well have been.

“A dead man goes to war!” cried one of the taglines that went with the film upon its release and with that, I’ll reveal no more as to how exactly that happens – it’s definitely worth checking out. But I will say that the cast is top notch – lots of familiar faces from a golden age of British cinema including Laurence Naismith, Geoffrey Keen and Michael Hordern while Ewan Montagu himself has a cameo role of an Air-Vice Marshal. There’s even a romance entwined within the plot which, as you will see, becomes a crucial subplot to maintaining the deception’s secrecy.

All in all, it’s a terrific film telling a fantastic and extraordinary true story. I shall end by simply saying you never what you can learn from podcasts. I knew nothing about this covert operation until a few days ago but now I’m all the more educated for learning about it and to see it told well in a film is a satisfying bonus. Thanks Sarah and Deblina from ‘Stuff You Missed In History Class’. I eagerly await your next episode.