Tag / Talking Pictures TV

by hutchwp

Film review – Love in Pawn (Charles Saunders, 1953)

The year is 1953. November. Britain is still bouncing from the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. Winston Churchill was halfway through his second stint as British Prime Minister. Frankie Laine was the undisputed king of the musical landscape, topping the singles charts for well over half the year with three different songs. And, somewhere amongst it all, Charles Saunders crafted one of the most bizarre British comedy films I’ve ever seen.

Love in Pawn stars Bernard Braden and Barbara Kelly as Roger and Jean Fox, a married couple in dire need of financial help. After a fairly slow opening act, they come to the only logical conclusion: to pawn Roger for a then-considerable £5. However, when Jean loses the ticket, Roger is stuck in the pawn shop for longer than expected. This gives him just enough time to begin a flirtatious kinship with the pawnbroker’s daughter Amber, played brilliantly by Jeannie Carson.

That the daughter is not of age (it’s suggested she’s 17) is not even the most unusual part of this strange plot. The main confusion for this viewer was that nobody seems to greatly question why Roger is allowed to be pawned. Even when they get to court the judge has a little confused look and then proceeds as normal.

For such a wild premise, the film itself isn’t particularly hilarious. Plenty of films, across all genres, stand up to the test of time after 70 years, but this doesn’t really hit the mark. Charles Saunders was on the fringes of television and cinema throughout his career, and this does lack the grandeur of a big-screen story. Indeed, it would sit much better as a TV movie with some of the fat cut out of the first twenty minutes.

Perhaps his creativity had reached saturation. Between 1952 and 1954, he rushed through no fewer than eight films and nine episodes of anthology series Douglas Fairbanks Presents. Such a prolific career tends to lead to a formulaic output.

There is a good story here but it feels rushed and unbalanced.

by hutchwp

Film review – Two Way Stretch (Robert Day, 1960)

There is something immediately joyous about Two Way Stretch. The score, supplied by Ken Jones, plays beautifully over some whimsical title cards, typical of British films at the time, and it sets up the tale perfectly.

Set in a British prison, Robert Day’s 1960 comedy tells the tale of a group of three prisoners – Peter Sellers, Bernard Cribbins and David Lodge – who operate their cell like a homely bed and breakfast, with contraband food and drink, a radio, daily newspapers and even a pet cat called Strangeways. They receive a visit from a man purporting to be a vicar (played by Wilfrid Hyde-White), but who is actually a conman who has hatched a plan to use the three prisoners to carry out a large-scale diamond theft. They’ll be broken out of prison, steal the diamonds, then broken back in. A classic farce.

Sellers is brilliant throughout, providing natural comedy at every moment. In 1960, his film career had just taken off with a BAFTA win for his leading role in another British comedy, I’m All Right Jack. By 1962, he was starring in Kubrick’s Lolita before being cast in Pink Panther. This is a perfect opportunity to see Sellers in his prime, fresh from radio, making his way on the big screen. A comedy legend at his best.

There are some moments of real hilarity. A visit from some elderly ladies provides Sellers with the opportunity to play a few tricks, whilst the smuggling of contraband into the prison on visit day is a shambolic hoot. The real gold starts with the arrival of Lionel Jeffries as the officious Chief “Sour” Crout, who brings a real counterpoint for the trio of protagonists. The comedy is all underpinned by a solid plot that keeps things moving forwards.

Two Way Stretch is a pure joy from start to finish and a perfect snapshot of British cinema at the start of the 1960s.