Poor Cow.

Review #2169: Poor Cow.

Cast: 

Carol White (Joy), Terence Stamp (Dave Fuller), John Bindon (Tom), Queenie Watts (Aunt Emm), Kate Williams (Beryl), Billy Murray (Tom's mate), Ken Campbell (Mr Jacks), Tony Selby (Customer in Pub), and Anna Karen (Neighbour) Directed by Ken Loach.

Review: 

Really it shouldn't be a surprise to see another graduate of the dramatic arts reach film with "kitchen sink" dramas, and it seems oddly timely as Ken Loach apparently has released his last film as a director just a few months ago. Born in Nuneaton, Warwickshire (also just known as "The Midlands") in England to an electrician father and a hairdresser mother, Loach had ideas of going for law (but also having the itch to act) as a youth, even after being part of the Royal Air Force. He did so at Oxford University, where the itch to act grew into the realization to have a future in the theatre, complete with being a part of the "Experimental Theatre Club". Eventually, he made his way to directing for BBC Television, which involved a handful of plays for The Wednesday Play such as "Up the Junction" and Cathy Come Home" (each featuring Cathy White as the lead) is likely the most noted of those works. He had been inspired by his favorites of that time in the Czech New Wave and Italian Neorealism when it came to shaping his work, when it came to "people are just being, not performing" (that aforementioned play had a great deal of improvised scenes, such as the ending with select members of the public, for example). The film that became his first as a feature director was based on the novel of the same name by Nell Dunn (who had written the "Up the Junction" book and subsequent TV adaptation; she noted enjoying the lead character of this film years later). Loach and Dunn collaborated on the screenplay for the film. Loach's enjoyment of filming the previous play with White made it pretty easy to have her in the lead role for this film, which had a good deal of improvisation for filming (complete with using a handful of one takes). The film was a general hit, but his next effort with Kes in 1969 became his hallmark feature in a career that had highs and lows (distribution or not) in films and the occasional documentary that generally involved issues near and dear to him and his socialist leanings.

For the most part, this works out to a mostly solid trip with the drippings of social realism and lyrical nature that goes through the long and winding road of 101 minutes in the realm of wavering decisions made by people left to fend for themselves in a changing world. It strums along with occasional music from Donovan for that type of empathy that can only come from folks who know it is better to let the ride go through all the paths required for a decent experience that makes some irreverent observations. It is like a melody of malaise that is both time capsule and sticking point of the now for what works out most of the time in that one particular target of spinning drama, with White (who with performances such as this had a brief run in building a star) in the middle of it. One can only handle so much as a person that can only go where they can go as a woman on the lower rungs of the has-beens and never-weres (if she is the "poor cow", imagine the term one goes with for men that might as well be on the farm). She handles this wandering pursuit of things and other associated items (such as say, a growing child or drifting tastes for how other men feel) in that sense of passiveness and illusions, where the only idea of happiness comes with that spontaneous and confused whirlwind chemistry with Stamp (who isn't as nearly involved in the latter parts of the film by design). I particularly like that scene in bold faced realities where he is sharing snippets of a robbery job that he tried doing only to reveal just how deluded it got (a beating rather than a skirmish). By default, they are the most interesting presences, because life only gives you one or two people that perhaps might spring interest in the odd lives teetering in squalor, whether that involves the pathetic in enablers or abusers. It is a mess of a movie by design, which will result in varied interest from those who end up viewing it, for better or worse. At any rate, it was a useful first start for a career director in Loach who continued to strive for further films in his own way of naturalism and messaging that comes and goes to those who know where to look.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.
Next up: Gary Ross and The Hunger Games

Never Let Go.

Review #2044: Never Let Go.

Cast: 

Richard Todd (John Cummings), Peter Sellers (Lionel Meadows), Elizabeth Sellars (Anne Cummings), Adam Faith (Tommy Towers), Carol White (Jackie), Mervyn Johns (Alfie Barnes), Noel Willman (Inspector Thomas), David Lodge (Cliff), and Peter Jones (Alec Berger) Directed by John Guillermin (#726 - King Kong (1976), #1231 - Shaft in Africa, #1447 - The Towering Inferno)

Review: 

The temperamental director may be a tough one to rein in, but when they excel in multiple genres or continue to get dependable work, they deserve everything they do. What does one expect from a man called many things from having an "irascible streak" to being a "pain in the ass"? John Guillermin was born to French parents in London. The dawn of World War II saw him join the Royal Air Force before his childhood interest in film got him into documentary filmmaking (with a few bits for a perfume company) and eventually features before he turned 30. He did his time with modest budgeting for Robert Jordan Hill, Vandyke Productions, television productions, and so on; the films that gave him first notice beyond the usual small expectations were Town on Trial (1957) and I Was Monty's Double (1958). He was then hired to do Tarzan's Greatest Adventure (1959), which was also pretty successful. The basis for the film came from a real event that I would hope doesn't happen to you: a man finds his car was stolen. Guillermin had his car stolen and told Peter de Serigny about it, with the latter happening to be a producer. They had a discussion about what if one had their whole livelihood dependent on their car. They made a brief story outline and then approached Alun Falconer to do a full script, with the result being the film here. This was the second of two films released in 1960 with Guillermin as director, after The Day They Robbed the Bank of England (1960).

Admittedly, it is a tantalizing kind of "kitchen-sink noir", one that shows just how far a man can go if they are pushed to the brink of what they deem to be unfair. You know, I actually did suffer a robbery once. It was October 20, 2022, when I foolishly went a path I probably should have thought twice about going in broad daylight. I may have been robbed of some money, but I'll be damned if they were going to steal my cell phone. The point I want to make (aside from not merely asking them to go to hell) is that some things are easy to take for granted until you have to fight for them to stay in the right place. Far from being just a movie about wanting their car back, it also is a movie about wanting to assert themselves as a man once again. For a time, Todd was a name actor with reputation in studio features (such as Disney and 20th Century Fox) after The Hasty Heart (1949) had him in demand. It is clear to see why, because he proves palatable in the panic shown without turning into a whimpering caricature. His refusal to give in becomes our refusal, one that we firmly believe in despite one's thoughts for how sad it all seems when shown up close with Sellars, who can only watch in blistering shock. If you can believe it, Sellers was actually approached to play the lead but asked if he could play the villain instead. Already a presence in various comedies (such as The Goon Show), this would stand out as a distinct dramatic role in his career that had seen him play a few roles making light of authority figures. He excels pretty well here, one who manages to achieve the conniving task of arrogance without being just a bland heavy, one who is more than a guy who at one point smashes a turtle. He never breaks once in his tension as a gritty portrayal of ruthlessness, which works right to where the film must lead to in the final climax (evidently, he was unable to stop from letting the performance not seep into his homelife, which resulted in a tense recollection from his wife). Faith was a pop singer teen idol who tried to make something within acting while only just in his twenties, and he makes a decent showing in the tension of youth and rough reality (as one expects from him and White). I do love the final sequence right after the fight, where a bruised and battered man in triumph drives off with his badly desired car, one who could care less about procedure or anything when being off to rest at his home, one who sits in the dark and finds a surprise awaiting him. With an efficient runtime of 90 minutes and a somewhat interesting music score from John Barry, this results in a pretty neat effort for all involved, one that is wrapped in sincerity in the heart of stubborn nature above all else that rewards the viewer in solid performances that really does not let go of your attention.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.