Phoenix Cinema

film reviews from the vaults

Archive for British

The Leading Man (1996)

“I could seduce your wife.”

The Leading Man is a tasty little drama set in London and centered on the marriage of playwright Felix Webb (Lambert Wilson). As the film begins, Webb is helping cast roles for his new play, and he’s secretly having a passionate affair with young talented actress Hilary Rule (Thandie Newton). Meanwhile, his neglected wife Elena (Anna Galiena) sniffs something’s afoot, and this results in increased tension at home while Felix juggles the demands of wife, mistress and new play.

Enter American actor Robin Grange (Jon Bon Jovi). He’s left Hollywood with the intention of working in theatre, but he still draws crowds of fans, autograph seekers, and potential groupies. His good looks, charisma and direct approach to women prove to be a deadly combination, and the women in the cast speculate over his talent as a bedmate. Hilary, however, isn’t interested in Robin. She’s too busy pressuring Felix to leave his wife.

Robin is a complex character. He appears to be just another pretty face, but it’s not long before he makes it clear to Felix that he knows about the affair with Hilary. Dropping hints here and there, Robin seems to be playing a strange game of cat-and-mouse. And then Robin proposes an unexpected solution. He suggests helping Felix by seducing Elena. Asserting that this is the best solution for everyone, Robin smoothly argues the case for seduction stating that a love affair will give Felix some needed space, restore Elena’s confidence and show her that Felix isn’t so necessary after all.

This bizarre turn of events is intriguing. After all, the role of cuckolded husband isn’t exactly enviable. Even adulterous husbands generally don’t want some other man sniffing around the old homestead. But while Felix is at first appalled by Robin’s suggestion, he concedes to the strategy.

The Leading Man reminds me of the domestic politics of a Woody Allen film, but without the comedy–although there are elements of dark humour. The film works so well largely due to the ambiguity of Robin’s motives. Is he malicious or ambitious? Is he truly interested in Elena, or is he out for what he can get? Ultimately this decision is wisely left up to the audience.

I read some criticisms of Jon Bon Jovi’s performance, and this seems unfair. He did an excellent job as the amoral, slippery Hollywood actor who possesses amazing powers of duplicity. This entertaining drama is from director John Duigan.

Disraeli (1978)

“Reform is a dangerous experiment.”

Disraeli: Portrait of a Romantic is a 1978 BBC miniseries recently released on DVD. This 2 DVD set runs at around 4 hours–with each disc containing 2 episodes. The film begins with a very young Disraeli (Ian McShane) casting around for exactly how to make an impression on the world. With a couple of novels already under his belt, he’s attracted to politics. As a Jew (baptized into the Anglican church at age 13), and as an overdressed dandy, Disraeli overcomes prejudice, and receives sound advice from many friends on his path to political success. The film charts Disraeli’s early forays into politics and the significant relationships in his life: Mary Anne Lewis (Mary Peach), Robert Peel (Antony Brown) Baron de Rothschild (David de Keyser), and Edward George Bulwer-Lytton (Brett Usher).

At first the conservative party views Disraeli as a radical, but Disraeli sees himself as a ‘progressive conservative.’ Disraeli fails multiple times when he attempts to run for parliament, but he persists and is assisted immeasurably when Wyndham Lewis, in effect, ‘purchases’ a seat in the House of Commons for Disraeli. The film outlines a corrupt and impenetrable system. In one instance, for example, a scene details just how many male voters there are in one town, and also emphasizes the fact that these voters will cast their votes where their employers demand.

The film highlights the most significant moments in Disraeli’s life–the turning points of the amazing, and lengthy career of a man who served twice as Prime Minister during some turbulent times in British history. We see the compromises Disraeli was willing to make to further his career and to further Imperialism, the lifelong friends, the bitter enemies, and the ever-troubling “Irish Question.” While Disraeli’s relationship with Queen Victoria (Rosemary Leach) is based on a mutual respect and admiration, Gladstone is seen as a bitter fanatic, whipping up war frenzy in order to create political unrest for Disraeli. The film includes one scene depicting Gladstone condemning Disraeli’s foreign policies, but the film only touches on the subject of the Great Game while glossing over Gladstone’s criticisms as personal vindictiveness and peevishness on his part. Well, this is Disraeli’s film, after all, and he’s a far more glamorous figure than Gladstone, I suppose. But I couldn’t help but wonder how Gladstone’s version of events would compare.

The film spends a fair amount of time explaining Disraeli’s metamorphosis from being seen as “a tinseled coxcomb,” and “a flashy upstart,” to settling into a sensible, yet loving marriage in which he grew into the consummate politician. My favourite scene pits Disraeli against the wily Baron von Bismarck (nice performance by Brewster Mason), but some of the accents from other players are dreadful. Directed by Claude Whatham, this satisfying and entertaining miniseries doesn’t shake any foundations, but it’s certainly a tasty, well-acted BBC miniseries for fans of British television.

Make Mine Mink (1960)

“Oh I’m so thrilled to be in the shock troops again.”

An affectionate tale of bungling amateur thieves, Make Mine Mink is one of the great must-see British comedy classics. Set in Kensington, the action centers around a boarding house owned, with fading gentility, by Dame Beatrice (Athene Seyler). Her tenants are a motley lot: there’s the mannish Nanette Parry (Hattie Jacques), who makes her living coaching would-be debutantes on issues of etiquette, the frazzled, nervous Pinkie (Elspeth Duxbury), a spinster who mends chipped china, and Major Rayne (Terry-Thomas), a man whose glory days remain in WWII.

When the film begins, the tenants’ lives are fraught with petty arguments with one another. Forced to share amenities, their relationships are mired in dislike and irritation, but there’s an exception to this–all of the tenants worship their kindly landlady, the eccentric Dame Beatrice. Even the maid, Lily (Billie Whitelaw), a reformed thief adores her employer, and the household agrees that Dame Beatrice is a wonderful woman who devotes her life to charitable pursuits.

But Dame Beatrice’s charitable pursuits aren’t yielding much in the way of results, and she notes that whatever profit they make goes “down the throat of the organizing committee.” A chain of events leads the tenants, and Dame Beatrice to pursue a life of crime in order to fund Dame Beatrice’s favourite charities. And as in usual in the case of thieves who operate out of boredom and the need for excitement, this ad-hoc gang develops an alarming taste for a life of crime.

Operating with the campaign strategy of the Major, the newly formed gang conducts a rash of daring fur robberies. For the first time in years, the Major is in his element, feeling useful and productive, as he marshals the women into various robberies. With experience, they become more practiced, and they also become more creative, but a couple of close calls cause them to reconsider. Unfortunately, they are now addicted to the excitement and the thrill of their criminal lives. The Major used to bemoan the fact that he ended “holed up here with a lot of dotty women,” but now the women rely on him to direct operations with a military flare.

Directed by Robert Asher and based on a play by Peter Coke, this gentle comedy pokes fun at the foibles of human nature and the dangers of boredom. Keep your eyes open for Kenneth Williams as sneaky fence Freddie Warrington.

Up The Front (1972)

“Sergeant-major, you’re a sex maniac.”

Up The Front is a British comedy starring the late great and much loved British comedian Frankie Howerd. Howerd starred in a popular television series about ancient Rome, called Up Pompeii, and he played the leering, campy slave Lurcio. In some ways this character is simply transported to the WWI film Up The Front. Bob Kellett directed both the 1971 film Up Pompeii and Up the Front (and for that matter, he also directed Up The Chastity Belt, which also stars Frankie Howerd). In Up The Front, Howerd plays Lurk, a servant in a posh London home in 1914. Each episode of Up Pompeii started with Lurcio trying to deliver the Prologue, and in each episode, he would face the camera and begin with the word, Greetings. This is also exactly how Up The Front begins.

When war breaks out, a wave of patriotic fervor sweeps through London, but Lurk doesn’t take the bait. However, when Lurk hears that the Butler, Groping (Bill Fraser) and the housemaid, Fanny (Madeline Smith) are about to attend a enlistment rally, he goes along too–just to show that he doesn’t deserve the white feather callously handed to him by Fanny in a private moment.

Unfortunately for Lurk, he’s hypnotized, and operating under the idea that he “must save England,” he enlists. Lurk soon finds himself near the Front and his sergeant-major is none other than Groping, the former butler.

For the most part, Up The Front is a very silly comedy designed as a vehicle for Howerd, so Howerd fans (me) will enjoy the film if for no other reason than Howerd is in almost every scene. Howerd is his usual leering, sly, tongue waggling, and cheek sucking self. The comedy is largely bawdy double entendre with a little slapstick thrown in for good measure. There’s even some peeping through keyholes and one on-going joke has Lurk peeping through keyholes and interrupting Groping’s sexual escapades. The final third of the film is the strongest section, and the film suddenly seems to spring to life. Howerd, who sports the German Master Plan tattooed on his bottom, is in one great cross-dressing scene (what’s a British comedy without a cross-dressing scene), and there’s a superbly timed denouement involving the Buttercup Girls and a Can-Can routine. There’s also a great scene between Howerd and Mata Hari (Zsa Zsa Gabor), and what a mismatched couple they make.

Up The Front isn’t much of a WWI film. There’s no reference to the millions of died, so it’s a peculiar setting for a comedy, but it’s almost beside the point that The Great War is raging. Patriotism is portrayed as a sort of insanity–after all the patriotic Nigel Phipps-Fortescue (Jonathan Cecil) is a bit of a twit, and Lurk must be hypnotized before he’ll enlist. Unfortunately, the script doesn’t do a great deal for Howerd’s comedic talents. Keep an eye open for Dora Bryan in the role of dotty Cora Crumpington (Dora Bryan).

Up The Front was just released on DVD by WHAM, and this is a very good print. I had no problems with it whatsoever. I copied some lines down for all Howerd fans out there:

“Don’t worry Fanny, I foiled his fondling .”
“Let’s have a quick feel.”
“Sergeant-major, which means the sun shines up my arse.”
Mata Hari looking at herself in the mirror: “I even intoxicate myself.”
Mata Hari to Lurk: “To a Just Peace in our time.” Lurk replies: “To a juicy piece any time.”

Laughter in Paradise (1951)

“Tasks of a somewhat unusual nature.”

Laughter in Paradise, from director Mario Zampi is one of the great comedies from the Golden age of British film. Its premise is simple: well-known practical joker, Henry Russell dies, he leaves his fortune to four relatives. There are strings, however. Henry’s will stipulates that each of his heirs must meet certain conditions in order to inherit. These conditions are different for each heir and seem designed to test the character of Henry’s relatives.

There’s Agnes (Fay Compton), a bitter spinster who terrorizes the domestic staff in her employment. In order to inherit her 50,000 pounds, she must apply for a job as a domestic servant, and then stay employed for one month. Agnes “who made life a purgatory for anyone in her employ” is employed by a cantankerous Scot and promptly renamed Bertha.

Slimy playboy Simon (Guy Middleton) must marry the first woman he talks to. Mild-mannered bank clerk Herbert (George Cole) must rob his bank with a water pistol, and retired army officer/pulp novelist Deniston (Alastair Sim) must commit a crime and languish in jail for 30 days.

The conditions of Henry Russell’s will seem designed to torture and challenge his relatives while addressing their character flaws. Deniston, for example, writes his pulp novels under a variety of false names. For him, writing pulp novels is just a painful, undignified means to survival, and he intends to write the ‘great’ novel once he inherits his share of the fortune. A slave to respectability, it really goes against the grain for him to do anything illegal. Deniston’s position is further complicated by his 10-year-long engagement to Fluffy, otherwise known as Elizabeth Robson (Joyce Grenfell), a priggish officer in the British army. The fun of this gentle comedy comes from the predictability of human nature as the heirs juggle a desire to be rich with actions that are in direct opposition to character.

The wonderful Alastair Sim steals this great comedy classic film, and his scenes are priceless. In real life, Sim unofficially adopted George Cole, took him into his home and trained him to be an actor. Keep your eyes open for a very young Audrey Hepburn as a cigarette girl.

Gangster No. 1 (2000)

The evil that men do

The film, Gangster No. 1, another entry in the British gangster genre–introduces us to a top gangster (played by Malcolm McDowell). He’s wearing an expensive tuxedo, sipping champagne, and smoking one fat cigar after another while we hear Tony Bennett singing “The Good Life” in the background.

The gangster receives the bad news that his old boss, Frankie Mays  (David Thewlis) is about to be released from a long stint in prison. This news causes the gangster to reminisce about the beginnings of his association with Mays back in 1968.

Indeed, most of the film is the story of the gangster’s rather mis-spent youth serving as May’s henchman. The gangster as a young man is played by Paul Bettany–but with some narration by McDowell. The young gangster rises through the ranks of Freddie’s organization by the use of his explosive violence, cunning, and ruthless ambition.

This film is one of the better British gangster films out there. This is due partly to the marvellous character study of the pyschopathic young gangster who turns out to be the deadliest thug in the bunch. The young gangster and his boss, Freddie, have a strange relationship. Freddie underestimates the young gangster and fails to see that he is different–more intelligent–than the rest of the crew. The young gangster has very powerful feelings about Freddie. He idolizes him, envies him, hates him, but all that is stirred in with suppressed homosexuality. The young gangster wants to be Freddie and wants to have all that Freddie has. There is one exception to all of this–and that is Freddie’s girlfriend. The young gangster hates her violently. Indeed, it is the introduction of the love interest that pushes the troubled relationship between Freddie and the young gangster to breaking point.

This film was flawed by one thing–the ending!! After such a brilliant build-up, I somehow expected more. The ending was a disappointment. The film was quite violent. However, dare I say this….it was tastefully done.

Great to see Malcolm McDowell back in a role worthy of his talents. And watch out for Paul Bettany–he was incredible in this film. Directed by Paul McGuigan (he’s Scottish, but I filed the film under British).

24-Hour Party People (2002)

Manchester music scene

The film 24 Hour Party People is presented in documentary style by narrator Steve Coogan who plays the real-life Tony Wilson–a television journalist. The film begins in the late 70s with Wilson lucky enough to attend an early Sex Pistols concert (with footage thrown in). Wilson’s assignments lack a certain seriousness, but he compensates by promoting the Punk Rock scene in Manchester. Wilson forms Factory Records “an experiment in human nature,” opens the Hacienda club in Manchester, and explains that the music scene “is like a helix”–as one trend ascends–another descends. And we see trends come and go.

The lively film, directed by Michael Winterbottom, charts the rise of Joy Division and the band’s metamorphosis into New Order, and the introduction of Rave music “when even the white man dances.” If you enjoyed the music of the 80s or have an interest in music history, you will enjoy this film. Coogan adds an amusing touch as the enterpreneur Tony Wilson. If you enjoy the film, seek out the book: 24 Hour Party People: What the Sleeve Notes Never Tell You by Tony Wilson. Tony Wilson died in 2007.

The Misadventures of Mr. Wilt (1989)

“Do you mean to say that the one piece of evidence that could corroborate your story is wrapped around a turd halfway to the North Sea? “

“I’ll have the evidence this time even if I have to search every sausage in the south of England.”

“And now you have the manpower of three police forces swooping on innocent families like the Mongol horde and making off with the contents of a liver sausage sandwich.”

“Why are you giving off such a negative aura? I’m sure it’s because your colon’s clenched. “

Wilt (AKA The Misadventures of Mr. Wilt) is a British film based on the comic novel by Tom Sharpe. Henry Wilt (Griff Rhys-Jones) is a lecturer at the local tech school, so he has the unpleasant job of teaching literature to technical students who would rather not learn about the tragic life of Jude the Obscure. Passed over for promotion several times, Wilt is one of those quiet types who keeps his frustrations under wraps. But he does allow himself the occasional mumble of discontent, and he also has fantasies about murdering his domineering wife, Eva (Alison Steadman). Eva has an uncanny knack for identifying and emphasizing her husband’s insecurities. For example, Eva has a friend, old school chum, Sally (Diana Quick) who’s now very wealthy. Eva constantly compares her modest circumstances to the glorious consumer orgy of Sally’s lifestyle, and naturally this grates on Henry as he’s secretly bothered about his humble career and his constant missed promotions.

One night, Wilt and Eva attend a party at Sally’s grandiose home, and Wilt finds himself attached (literally) to an obscene inflatable doll. This embarrassing incident leads to a chain of unfortunate events, and Wilt finds himself charged with the murder of his wife, her friend Sally, and Sally’s husband. In charge of the investigation is the bumbling Inspector Flint (Mel Smith), and he’s convinced that Wilt is a cold-blooded stone killer.

This comedy of errors plays out against campus politics, and some of Wilt’s fellow lecturers stand for him, and some stand against him as a media circus unfolds at the tech school. Laugh-out-loud funny in a couple of spots, the film was very, very amusing and engaging, and it was also fairly faithful to the book. The film adds on a couple of story threads that are absent in the book, and the film adaptation loses some of the sexist references in the novel. Overall, this was an enjoyable little comedy, and if you enjoyed the book, you’ll probably be pleased with the film. Directed by Michael Tuchner.

Madeleine (1950)

“There seems to be something about your character which stops you from acting naturally.”

Directed by David Lean, the film Madeleine is based on a real-life murder trial that took place in Scotland in 1857. Madeleine (Ann Todd) is the eldest daughter of an affluent family, and she lives in Glasgow in the Smith home. When the film begins, Madeleine is already deeply embroiled in a love affair with Frenchman Emile L’Angelier (Ivan Desny). Emile, whose standing in polite society is considerably beneath Madeleine’s, meets her secretly at night while the rest of the household sleep. Madeleine has her own separate room on the bottom floor of the house, and her bedroom window is street level. Emile’s routine is to simply walk by and tap at her window until she lets him in.

While Madeleine’s maid is in on the secret, everyone else in the household is unaware that docile little Madeleine is conducting a wild love affair with a man considered to be her social inferior. She has written numerous passionate, compromising letters declaring her love, and it’s obvious that their relationship has a sexual element.

Things begin to go wrong, however, when Madeleine’s strict, Victorian father begins pressuring her to accept a proposal of marriage from a man in their social circle. At the same time, Emile begins pressuring Madeleine to introduce him to her family. Madeleine, who understands her father all too well, knows that this is futile. As far as she’s concerned, the only option they have is to elope. But this is unacceptable to Emile. Conscious of their class differences, he demands that he be introduced to her family properly as her suitor. When Madeleine refuses, Emile resorts to blackmail.

It was never clear just how Madeleine and her lover first met, and the film remains true to that aspect of the affair by plunging into the story when the affair is already well underway. The film examines Madeleine’s dilemma by cleverly placing two scenes back-to-back. In one scene, Madeleine is pressured by her impossible father to agree to a socially acceptable marriage, And in the next scene, Emile pressures Madeleine in precisely the same fashion to introduce him to her father. From the expression on Madeleine’s face, we know the exact moment when she realizes that she’s trapped between two unreasonable, domineering men.

The gem of a film is remarkably accurate on the details of the fascinating sensational case and its examination of opportunity. Structured this way, it is left up to the viewer to decide Madeleine’s guilt, so in essence we become the judge and the jury. This really is a marvelous film with its strong sense of destiny and inevitability. And although Ann Todd (married to director David Lean at the time the film was made) looks as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, she’s just hard-edged enough, you have to wonder….

The Edge of the World (1937)

Odd, but beautiful film

The Edge of the World, directed by Michael Powell, is an odd little film. It’s set in the 1930s on Hirta, a tiny remote Shetland island. Fishing trawlers are depleting the local cache of fish, and there are questions about the viability of continuing life on the island. Two young islanders disagree about the future of the island–Robbie believes that living on the island will soon become impossible, and Andrew believes that the island still offers a solid living. The two men, lifelong friends, decide to hold a race to decide their argument. The race ends in tragedy and a self-imposed exile.

This area of the world has always fascinated me, so when I discovered the existence of the film–combined with the fact that it was directed by Michael Powell, I had to track down a copy. The Edge of The World does a marvelous job of portraying island life–right before it disappeared. I was aware that life on the islands had to be harsh, but the film reveals the living conditions in some detail. The islanders’ system for getting letters to the mainland has to be seen to be believed.

The cinematography is absolutely outstanding and lends itself to black and white–visually this is a beautiful film. The shots of the craggy rocks are stunning. The film was shot on location on the Shetland island of Foula. The story is a teensy bit corny, but it’s not too over-the-top, and the romance plays second fiddle to the story of the island. The Edge of the World stands as a record for a way of life that is lost forever, and as such, the film is an amazing relic.

The DVD has some nice extra features–including 2 short extra pieces A Letter from an Airman to his Mother, and Return to the Edge of the World. The latter is a short documentary film.

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