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The Bell (1982)
Beautifully shot, but The Bell tolls slowly
Iris Murdoch's novel proves to be a haunting affair in this 1982 TV adaptation, filled with people struggling to come to terms with their feelings and unable to escape their past. Set in 1958, the story begins with Dora Greenfield (Tessa Peake-Jones), a vivacious former art student who decides to leave her lover and the party life of London to return to her husband Paul, who is staying at Imber Court, a religious community situated next to an Abbey of nuns, whose manuscripts he is studying. She feels compelled to go back as she is certain he wouldn't cope without her, but soon discovers that just by returning to him is not going to make everything better. Paul (James Warwick) is openly cold towards her, unable to forgive her and hurt by her betrayal, and relations are not improved when Dora forgets her luggage on the train. But they are not the only ones dealing with inner turmoil there, as it becomes apparent at Imber Court that despite the tranquil settings and beautiful countryside, there is a cauldron of suppressed emotions just bubbling under the surface for some of the residents.
Among those members are Catherine Fawley (Trudie Styler), a fragile young woman who has suddenly applied to become a nun at the Abbey convent, a decision that seems to distress her twin brother Nick (Kenneth Cranham), who lives at the Lodge nearby. He is similarly troubled, a erratic alcoholic who is equally perturbed by the presence of religious founder Michael Meade (Ian Holm), who he knows from his past. Meade himself is in turmoil over his long suppressed homosexuality, and is disturbed to find those feelings resurface upon the arrival of Toby Gashe (Michael Maloney), a young student staying over for the holidays before he heads off to study at Oxford University. Toby is full of the seething mass of burgeoning sexuality of his age, and like with Dora, the new arrivals create hidden upheaval with their presence. Then there is the Abbey legend that haunts the area and why there is no bell in the bell tower. Paul relays the story to Dora of how centuries ago one of the nuns received a lover into the convent, only for him to fall to his death when leaving. Upon the discovery of his body, the other nuns confronted her but when she refused to confess, the bishop put a curse on the Abbey that caused the bell to fly into the lake. Distraught by this, the nun drowned herself in the lake in repentance for her sin and ever since if anyone hears the old bell it is a warning or omen of an approaching death.
Such is the setting for this drama, and the bell itself features prominently amid the events that occur - indeed, it is inadvertently the catalyst for the tragedy that is to come. The community itself is eagerly awaiting the arrival of a new bell to put in the Abbey tower for the nuns, which will be presented at a unveiling ceremony. But unbeknownst to them Toby has discovered the original bell at the bottom of the lake during one of his skinny dipping swims, but has no idea of it's significance. However Dora fully realizes it's importance when Toby mentions his find to her and still stung by the parallel her husband drew between the legend of the nun and her own infidelity, she sees the bell as a chance to please her husband and to try and atone for her sins. Swearing Toby to secrecy about his find, she persuades him to go along with her idea to raise the bell from the lake and substitute it for the new bell in order to present it as a miracle to the community and reaffirm their beliefs. Instead their efforts only create further complications and they little realize the chain of events that their actions will trigger that eventually lead to tragedy.
The Bell is a drama full of the conflicting emotions of human beings and of how love, guilt, faith, jealousy and sexual attraction can all combine to complicate matters, and sometimes spiral out of their control. And it is helped out enormously by it's cast, not least Tessa Peake-Jones in her first lead role. She perfectly encapsulates Dora's youth, vitality and naivety, hoping to put things right by returning to her husband, but finding that life is never that simple. She stands out like a sore thumb at Imber Court, so vibrant compared to the reserved members and their strict routines, and it's no wonder she struggles to adapt there and finds it lonely at times. It isn't helped by her husband Paul's attitude towards her, openly cold and still unable to forgive her for her affair. Although you can understand Paul's initial hurt, he is such a cold and unbending character I found him very hard to warm to. He continues to wound and berate Dora for her infidelity despite her efforts to please him, and as it progresses he becomes a increasingly disturbing character with his belittling, leading you to understand why she may of tried to leave him in the first place. And when her looks begin to attract attention from others in the group, it only fuels jealousy in him, and you can only sympathize when she looks in other quarters for someone to make her feel good about herself.
A lot has been made of the fact that Tessa appears nude in this, but it has to be said that such is the focus on the emotions of the characters that they pass with little notice, so easily do they blend into the story. Indeed, there is a fair bit of nudity and not all from Tessa, but her scenes could be said to represent her more liberated outlook and lifestyle compared to the oppressed emotions of the commune. Michael Maloney also strips off for a number of skinny dipping scenes in the lake, one of which is observed by Michael Meade, who struggles with his homosexuality and his attraction for Toby. Yet while it certainly awakens deeply suppressed feelings in Meade, Toby's swims are only ever seen as completely innocent and are beautifully shot as he seems at peace with nature. Michael Maloney is lovely as Toby, capturing his sweetness and innocence, as well as his bewilderment at his sexual awakening and conflicting emotions it entails. Kenneth Cranham also impresses as the troubled and volatile Nick Fawley, but it is Ian Holm as Michael Meade who steals the acting honours and who stays long in the memory. He conveys so many conflicting emotions as Meade, struggling with his homosexuality, haunted by the past, and tortured by religious guilt. It is a beautiful portrayal by Holm, whose mild mannered and polite demeanor even in difficult times make him a hugely sympathetic character. The agonies he goes through when he drives Toby back from the pub after getting drunk as he ponders whether to react on his feelings towards him or desist for fear of losing his friendship is superb. Even the mystery with Nick Fawley and suggestions about his past life does little to dampen feeling for him due to Holm's performance.
Despite all the praises I've lavished on this adaptation, there are flaws to it and one significant problem is that it is a rather ponderous serial at times. There is no doubt it is beautifully shot, with some enchanting country settings and lovely period details, while the acting performances cannot be questioned. But it could of done with being 3 episodes instead of 4, such is it's pace and the elongating of the plot. There are also some actors, like William Simons, Edward Hardwicke and even Gareth Thomas (as James Tayper Pace) who are given little to do with their characters, while it's conclusion leaves you feeling a little unresolved for at least one of the characters as they are left facing a crossroads in their life (although the book leaves you in no doubt of what happens). But it is effective and there is a pervading sense of tragedy that lingers throughout this adaptation - not just on what happens, but also the tragedy of so many people inhibited by their feelings to be unable to live through them without guilt. Overall, this is a drama that is slow, but beautifully shot, and whose heart is in the right place. It's concern is with human beings and all their various emotions, good and bad, and is boosted by some outstanding performances from Ian Holm and Tessa Peake-Jones. It's ponderous, yes, but one that will haunt the memory.
Legacy of Murder (1982)
This Murder mystery a superb Legacy for Emery
Dick Emery can be an odd mixture for some people at times. His film appearances for me work surprisingly well, from his lead films like Ooh...You Are Awful (1972) to his co-starring in The Big Job (1965), not least because he proved to be a rather underrated actor who could also do comedy. His TV series he did in the 1970's however proved less palatable for me, due to the fact that so many of his characters in that show were either conniving or spiteful, such as Lampwick, College the Tramp, or the female neighbours/friends where Emery's character was particularly vile to Pat Coombs. So when I came across this rare TV series, I wondered which category of Emery's comedy this would fall into. Thankfully it falls into the former segment - indeed, I'd go so far to say this is one of the best things that Dick Emery ever did in his career.
This 6 part mystery series concerns two struggling private detectives, Bernie Weinstock and his assistant Robin Bright (Barry Evans), who earns more money doing a part time milk round than what the sleuthing duo make in solving crime. Their latest case is trying to find a client's missing cat, which they have still failed to do (it's fate shows Emery's rather cruel side in comedy at times), while they face the arrival of a debt collector called Marley, (the wonderful Michael Robbins from On the Buses) who gives them 28 days to pay up before he'll send his boys round. He admits he's only giving them that long as Bernie's excuses for missing payments is "the best load of codswallop I've heard all year." Luckily for the duo they receive a call from a solicitor called Roland Tolhurst (Richard Vernon), who is acting on the behalf of Lord Algrave (Emery again, in a number of roles he plays in this). Not revealing who he is working for, he tells the duo that they are to try and trace the whereabouts of six people on a list and give them a sealed envelope. They are also to ask each person two questions "Who was the timekeeper?" and "How long before the Indian Princess arrived?" to prove who they are, with £5,000 given for each person successfully brought back - but only if they are brought back alive. Needless to say, it all goes belly up for the detective duo, and there seems to be a number of people interested in the peculiar hunt for six random strangers, such as Lord Algrave's estranged sister Monica Danvers-Crichton (guess who?) and her two sons. Then there is the shady Soho gangster Joe Galliano (yep, Emery again), who runs a strip club and who receives a mysterious tape delivered to him. Intriguingly he is also one of the people mentioned on the list, but avoids the duo's inquiries and instead follows them as they try and track down the other people on the list.
There is great fun in the detective duo trying to track down the names on the list, not least because you know some awful fate is going to befall those people. And there are a variety of inventive ways in which the various victims die, with the highlight being the way in which the vicar meets his maker (and you can guess who's playing him, can't you?). In every case there seems to be a sinister limping figure behind it all, giving leave for you to wonder whether they are a hired assassin, one of the suspects either known to the duo or one of the people on the list - or possibly someone as yet unknown to the duo. I have to say I didn't guess the culprit by the end of it, but unlike some shows it does play fair with the audience. It also takes the duo all over the place, from the gritty streets of London to the countryside of Somerset, to across the world from France, Tunisia, America and even Haiti, where Bernie and Robin encounter the sinister world of voodoo (leading to yet another inventive death along the way). Indeed, this mystery series takes great pleasure in throwing it's characters through all sorts of settings and any number of scenarios, and the various sets and destinations impress greatly.
What impresses me most with this is the fact that it maintains being a proper whodunnit to puzzle and bamboozle the viewers. There is a good logical reason behind the hunt for the people on the list and the reasons for their demise, and the solution holds up pretty well for what is also a comedy as well as a mystery thriller. And that is another of the glowing attributes of Emery's talents, in that all of the various characters he plays do not overwhelm the mystery with their comic potential. Rather he makes them fit with the story, with the likes of Monica Danvers-Crichton, Joe Galliano and a cheery milkman they encounter on the road to Somerset all feeling like a individual character rather than Emery playing the role. Even the toothsome vicar he plays, the Reverend Arthur Wildblood, does not send the mystery into spoof territory, and it is remarkable that Emery is able to play all these characters without ever really seeming to be him. That is some talent.
He is not the only talent on display here. Barry Evans is wonderfully endearing as Emery's detective sidekick Robin Bright, still fresh faced and full of the cheeky charm that made him so popular in the 1970's. How his career tailed off after this I don't know, but he is as much a star of this as Emery, who selflessly gives him as much screen time and a character that is if anything more clever than Emery's Bernie Weinstock. Also superb is Richard Vernon (The Man from Room 17 himself) as the droll, deadpan solicitor Roland Tolhurst and Patsy Rowlands as Robin's amorous landlady Thelma. Indeed, there are a host of familiar faces from that period in British acting among the cast, from Irene Handl, Barbara Murray, Patrick Allen, Roy Kinnear, Michael Robbins, Barbara Hicks and Norman Bird to name a few. It even has a few black characters in it to please modern audiences, including Lord Algrave's butler O'Toole, played by Thomas Baptiste, whose character is sharper than many of the characters realize, and Frank Siguineau as Jean Montpellier, one of the people on the list that leads Bernie and Robin travelling to Haiti. Finally a note for Lee Whitlock - best remembered as Harvey Moon's son - here playing Wayne, a schoolboy who lives next door to the detective duo who takes great delight in taunting or insulting them. At one point he even taunts one of Joe Galliano's heavies (played by Minder's Glynn Edwards), leading to Edwards' character saying admiringly "You're a kid after my own heart, you are. Look me up in a few years time and I might have a job for you." It's no wonder he went on to success in Shine On Harvey Moon (among other things) and so sad to hear of his death a few months back at just 54, so vibrant is he in this.
The only thing that does grate slightly is the laughter track that works far better in sitcom and which has surprisingly been included here. It is only a minor quibble in a TV comedy mystery thriller that starts decently enough and just gets better and better as it goes along. The familiar cast do their upmost to make it work, giving good and amusing performances, while it goes along at a rattling good pace that never slackens in it's thrilling "race against time" element it tags itself in. It is a thoroughly absorbing murder mystery, with a killer that proves harder to spot than I imagined, backed by an atmospheric and enjoyable theme tune. It also makes you wonder just what Emery could of achieved with this new line in comic mysteries, but sadly only one more series was ever made before Emery's untimely death from a heart attack in January 1983. Even sadder is the fact that this mystery series has not been repeated on terrestrial TV since then. This is easily one of the best things he has ever done.
Death Is a Good Living (1966)
Rossiter raises this thriller above the norm
Leonard Rossiter is probably best thought of as one of the finest comedy performers of all time, but he was much more than just a sitcom legend and proves it here in this intriguing TV thriller from the 1960's. Rossiter plays Norman Lynch, a hitman for 30 years who tells his company boss Edward Malline (Brian Hawksley) that he wants to retire. Part of the reason is that he wants to treat his aged mother to holidays and things that he has only rarely been able to give her. She herself has no idea of his profession, with the company he works for posing as an airline business. Malline, however, persuades him to take on one last job to assassinate Ramon Aguirre (Michael Godfrey), a Cuban who is planning on travelling to Ireland and then Britain to gather arms to help overthrow the Cuban government and gain support from allies. They have no idea who wants him dead, but they have been paid to kill him and for Lynch it is just another job before he retires.
However, this last job has a twist, as Lynch will be accompanied by a young assassin called Peter Virtanen (Don Borisenko), who Malline wants him to train to make sure he is up for the job before Virtanen takes over from Lynch's job as hitman. Lynch is naturally not keen, but nevertheless takes on the job and the new trainee and soon they are travelling over to Ireland to spot their target at the airport. There are problems in the fact that the British government have sent two bodyguards to protect Aguirre, but a bigger problem for Lynch is Virtanen himself. He is young, impatient and often impetuous, eager to get the job done at the airport, despite Lynch's warnings about being patient and biding their time until the moment presents itself. However, there is a bigger reason for Virtanen's impatience, which is revealed at the end of episode 2 - he has been contracted to kill Lynch after the job is done by Malline, who is determined that nobody retires from the company.
This is an intriguing and little heard of thriller, surprisingly brief at only 4 episodes of 25 mins long, and as such there is not as much incident packed into it's story as one would of liked. It does however move at a brisk pace, and what makes this so fascinating is the conflict of emotions the viewer experiences watching this. Much of the screen time is with the hitman Lynch and his young protege Virtanen as they travel to Ireland and stake out the airport awaiting their target Aguirre, and you are conflicted between wondering if you are meant to root for them to succeed or hope that they do not. That is because Aguirre himself is not a typically reactionary revolutionary. Michael Godfrey does a good job at expressing the weariness and jadedness of Aguirre, who is more a reluctant revolutionary who is acting because he hates what is happening with his country with it's corruption and dictatorship and knows he has to help in order to do the right thing - not only for his comrades, but in his own mind. Because of Aguirre's character, you end up equally torn worrying whether he will indeed be assassinated or hoping he will survive, as his is not a clear cut bad guy, but someone who is decent and whose causes are honorable.
Yet what makes this thriller above the norm is the performance of Leonard Rossiter as Lynch. This is a man who is a hired killer, yet you cannot help but like him. Rossiter was known for his high energy and rapid fire talk, yet he is remarkably restrained here as the experienced and intelligent hitman - a marked contrast from his hot heated and somewhat irritating sidekick Virtanen. Don Borisenko is no match for Rossiter here, who gives a wonderfully nuanced performance as a man who yearns to retire and ponders whether in each killing he makes a little part of his soul dies too. It's not so much he is filled with remorse - far from it, he regards each contract as a job and that is that. But because he knows his career will soon be over, he begins to reflect on things he never thought of before. Rossiter is riverting in this, and part of the reason you are so eager for him to get out of the situation he finds himself in is that he learns that he cannot trust anyone in this business, not even his own bosses. There is an air of impending doom that hangs about this thriller, yet Lynch continues to surprise with his quick intellect as he shows he is not so easily fooled as they think. What does eventually bring his downfall comes from the most unlikely source, and the circumstances effectively moving.
The other cast members are decent enough, especially the bodyguards Prescott and Barton (Geoffrey Toone and Jeremy Burnham), who bring a human side to the characters with mention about their home lives and their wives and children - putting into stark contrast the risk they put their lives through protecting people from harm on a day to day basic. Don Borisenko and Dalia Penn are okay, but not as effective as the young assassin and Maria Salvador, the Cuban diplomat who may or may not be trustworthy and who could be either an old flame of Aguirre or sent by the Cuban government to remove him. Meanwhile Jack May (the voice of Igor in Count Duckula) plays Major Gates, the bodyguards' boss, and although it is always lovely to see him in things, his character is a little too tough at times, especially towards the end. Although he rightfully points out that Lynch is a hitman who killed with no consideration to his previous victims, it still feels rather savage considering the circumstances that connive towards Lynch's eventual fate. On it's own it's a brisk, slightly underfed thriller that still makes for decent viewing, despite the fact that it never really resolves who ordered the hit on Aguirre. With Rossiter as Lynch, however, he adds a depth to his character that makes this a rather more intelligent drama than you would imagine. If any doubt existed about Rossiter's talents and scope as an actor, they end here with his performance in this. He gives a lovely performance that is absolutely magnificent.
Sense and Sensibility (1971)
Awful casting plays heavy on the Sensibilities
It's always intriguing to see how various adaptations stand compared to others, and Jane Austen's novels seem to of gone through periods of remakes in TV. There were a host of adaptations in the early 1970's, again in the 1980's and most notably in the mid to late 1990's. Naturally versions in the 1970's are bound to be studio set, but sadly for this version of Austen's first ever novel, that is the least of it's problems. Indeed, you could say the set designers have tried to do their best with what budget they had - it's more than can be said for the scriptwriters, performers and casting directors.
Sense and Sensibility sees Mrs Dashwood (Isobel Dean) and her two daughters Elinor and Marianne (no third child Margaret here) forced to find accommodation elsewhere after her husband dies and her stepson John is persuaded not to settle half his inheritance on them by his manipulative wife Fanny. Now in "poverty", they are forced to downsize and move to Devon to live in Barton Cottage (complete with an old maid when they get there), where Mrs Dashwood's cousin Sir John Middleton lives nearby. Soon both daughters have their heads turned, Elinor's (Joanna David) by Edward Ferrars, her sister in law Fanny's brother, while Marianne (Ciaran Madden) falls for the charms (such as they are) of John Willoughby when she injures her ankle when on a walk out in the country. However, life and true love is never that simple, and both girls have to go through a trial of emotions and tribulations before we get to the end of the story.
Sadly, I felt I'd gone through a trial myself sitting through this lazily made production. Out of the 1970's adaptations of Jane Austen's works, from Persuasion (1971) to Emma (1972), this was the disappointment of the lot. The other two, especially Persuasion, had their merits and were at least treated with the time and respect the material deserved. This adaptation, by comparison, seems to of been rushed out, with the acting lacking any nuances or depth and the screenwriting seemingly jettisoning the subtleties of Austen's wordplay that make her works a joy at times to watch. Indeed, this seems to have no feel for the Regency era in which it is set, with characters being blunt and as sometimes downright rude (yes, I mean you, Marianne), which is something no lady of that era would of spoken or even dared to. But what cripples this adaptation the most is it's lazy - and frankly ludicrous - casting. Most of the main "young" cast are so old if they had been 10 years older they would of had to of used the cast from Last of the Summer Wine. And so many are just unsuitable for the roles.
For example, straight from the off you are meant to feel sorry for the Dashwoods, but Isabel Dean is such a miserable ratbag as Mrs Dashwood that you cannot blame stepson John from kicking them out as soon as possible without a penny, so unbearable is she and Marianne (I'll get to her later). If I'd of been him, I'd of moved them to the Outer Hebrides and then emigrated. Then there is the casting of Clive Francis as Willoughby, who looks and sounds like an ageing East End gangster rather than a young, good looking cad. Peter Woodward was far better in the 1981 version at capturing his youthful appeal, but with Francis you feel sure any self respecting mother would of locked the doors and sent their daughter off to the nearest convent than allow a Willoughby that looked like Clive Francis near their child. Then there is the casting of Robin Ellis and Richard Owens in the important roles of Edward Ferrars and Colonel Brandon. Looking at them, it would of made more sense to reverse the roles, as Ellis (Poldark himself) is far too good looking for the part of the reserved Edward. As it is, he plays Edward as a stuttering, slightly bumbling and somewhat guilty character. With Bosco Hogan as Edward in the 1981 version, he always maintained a sense of decency, even when he is confronted with Lucy Steele when he goes to visit Elinor. When the same scene is played here, Ellis' Edward looks horrified and decidedly shifty when confronted with the sight of Lucy - though that may be because he's seen her in daylight.
Then there is Richard Owens as Colonel Brandon. With a hairstyle that makes him look like an overfluffed Dandie Dinmont, he unfortunately has all the charisma of a Speak Your Weight machine and as such is deathly dull as the decent colonel (though how decent when he is interested in a girl under half his age is debatable). And how was Frances Cuka cast as Lucy Steele? She is supposed to be young and attractive enough to entrap a wealthy young man into an engagement, but if so Edward must of met her in a blackout. Cuka is far too old for the part and too openly cunning and spiteful, and isn't helped by being lumped in costumes that resemble a galleon in full sail - though at least she moves well, like a dalek on valium. If only they had given valium to Ciaran Madden as Marianne. At 29, she is far too old to play the part of the 16 year old Marianne - indeed, in real life she was a good 5 years older than her 'elder' screen sister Joanna David! I know Marianne's character is supposed to be young and impetuous, but with Madden playing her she comes across as a rude, whiny, neurotic, spoiled drama queen overdosed on prozac. Her manners are so blatantly rude at times, whether to her hosts or to guests that it makes you wonder how the family ever managed to get invited to events ever again. And her constant complaining proves so wearisome you begin to wish for her to be kidnapped or befall an illness - as it is, when she does (fall ill, not get kidnapped, no such luck), even then there is no escape, as she still talks even during her 'comatose' fever!
The few positives come from two sitcom stars of the future in Patricia Routledge as Mrs Jennings and Michael Aldridge as Sir John Middleton. Aldridge is full of joie de vivre and enthusiasm as Middleton, and a welcome distraction from the mainly dull or miserable playing of most of the other cast and it's a shame that he only features in half the episodes. But it's Routledge who is the star of this adaptation, a tour de force of a performance that lifts this production off it's feet whenever she is on screen, sparking everything into life. Goodness knows where this adaptation would of been without her, but she is a joy to see whenever she appears. The only other one of any note, and the only one who seems to have any feel for Austen's etiquette and manners is Joanna David as Elinor. Although this adaptation doesn't give her much leeway when it comes to developing emotional depth in the character, she at least looks and feels the part and as such is a dependable and likable lead. But despite their efforts they cannot prevent this from being a disappointing and frankly poorly constructed adaptation. Inexplicably they change a number of things in this version, including the nature of a key storyline involving Colonel Brandon and a young girl who in this is described as his niece - missing the whole point of the plotline and the indelicacies Brandon found himself having to deal with. It has no real feel for it's era or it's language and proprieties, and coupled with it's poor casting and little emotional depth from most of it's performers it remains a poor effort compared to other versions. The BBC would do a far better job ten years later with the charming museum piece adaptation of 1981, while Emma Thompson would have great success with the truncated film version in 1995. This can only really be viewed as a curio for how NOT to adapt a Jane Austen novel - not unless you have no respect for the subject whatsoever, that is.
Killer Contract (1984)
If only they'd kidnapped the writers
This was the third and (thankfully) final installment in the TV mini series Killer from 1984, and after having gone through the absurdity of the first and the sleaziness of the second, here we have just plain dull and as such it is the worst of the lot. The story begins with businessman Bill Routledge (Edward Woodward) planning to begin production on a major satellite project for his company, along with his underling Hugh Dexter (David Sibley), who he has poached from an American Consortium. It's clear from the off that Routledge is a cold man and not to be messed with in his ambitions, but that doesn't mean he isn't adept at giving out to charity - as long as it involves his daughter Celia (Caroline Bliss). As it turns out, she is the Rag Queen in the student Rag Week fundraiser (yes, I had to check to make sure I heard that right, though it would of been a darn sight funnier if it had been Drag Queen!). Celia gets "kidnapped" by a group of students, where money is then raised for charity to release her. Routledge pays up £3,000 but as it turns out, after being snatched and taken to the student lodge, Celia is later found gone from her room and a message is phoned through to one of Routledge's contacts in Madrid telling him he has received a mysterious message. The phone call simply says "Stop production or your daughter dies."
This leaves a host of speculation. Daughter Celia is seen in a cell guarded by (apparently) Spanish guards, but is it a ruse by her to get money out of daddy or to teach him a lesson? She certainly has a problematic relationship with him, blaming him for his ill treatment of her mother Dorothy (Wanda Ventham). Or could it be her stepmother and Routledge's 2nd wife Joan (Kate Harper)? Could she of kidnapped her to have Routledge all to herself, jealous of his affection for Celia? Ironically when the police come to inform him that his ex wife Dorothy has received a message Celia has been kidnapped, it is Joan who is seemingly more concerned about Celia's welfare. Routledge, however, is determined that nothing is going to stop him in his ambitions to set up his satellite company. Then there is the American Consortium, led by Paul Maxwell, who are still rankled by him poaching their man Hugh Dexter and now put in an offer to buy him out with Dexter part of the deal. Could they of kidnapped her to force him into selling? Routledge thinks so, but it makes you wonder why the message would say "cease production" if that was the case. Then there are the outside bids, such as Celia's boyfriend in a possible joint scam, or even Hugh Dexter himself in a possible plot to usurp both Routledge and the Americans for his own ends.
Sadly it rarely gives any clear answers and you are left just as much in the dark by the end as it follows along the trend of the other two installments for peculiar endings, or just plain weird scripts! And like the other two, this features a utterly unlikable lead character. Woodward is always compelling, but he is just too cold and self centred to warm to, and I found my sympathies more with his wives Dorothy and Joan. While Wanda Ventham doesn't get much to do as the worried and baffled mother, it is Kate Harper who attracts the most attention as Routledge's current wife Joan. She seems to be the only one who has real concerns about her step daughter Celia and what may happen to her, and you cannot help but feel for her trapped in a marriage with such a cold, distant man like Routledge. Paul Maxwell isn't bad either as the Head of the American Consortium, but Caroline Bliss is less effective as the abducted daughter Celia, looking like a 1980's model (though you still fear what may happen to her). In the end, without giving away what happens, this meanders off to being much ado about nothing and leaves you asking more questions than gaining answers. This is a strange mini series in all, understandably forgotten now, and hindered by unlikable lead characters and very strange scripts. My overwhelming feeling when watching them was of a weird and depressing series which proved a waste of both it's star talents and of the viewers time and energy watching it. Certainly it is one series I would not wish to sit through again. A disappointment.
Killer Exposed (1984)
You wouldn't want to be his Valentine in this sleazy thriller
The second installment in the Killer mini series from 1984, this abandons mystery for a disturbing story about murderous obsession. Anthony Valentine plays seemingly mild mannered dentist Robin Fraser who is first seen spying on a couple canoodling together through a window and taking photographs of them. It turns out the woman is a prostitute called Charlie Stevens (Molly Radlove) who Robin has been seeing, but of late she has been giving him the cold shoulder. When he rings her up to ask where she's been, she is typically mocking, and it seems he is not the first she has bedded and then booted into touch. Unfortunately for her, this time she has bedded someone who does not take kindly to his chosen one being with other men and decides that she must be taught a lesson. Surprisingly when he rings up to arrange another date, she agrees and after meeting in a creepy car park he takes her to his place, where he gives her a valuable ring before inviting her in to look at his dark room. This should of given her fair warning as it is, but despite him showing her photos he's taken of her with her latest client, she is still happy to drop her dress. But before she can complete the trick, he's injected her and the next day her body is found in woodland near a lake.
Anthony Valentine is effectively creepy in this as the demented dentist, but he is surprisingly not the creepiest bloke in this thriller. That actually goes to the police squad investigating the case, whom young female copper Detective Sgt Gill Parsons (Dearbhla Molloy) is part of the team. She is ambitious to move up in rank, but also knows she is still an underling and as such has to tolerate and endure the sexist attitudes of her higher ranking colleagues in order to do so. And I don't mean the woke lobby's idea of sexism of wolf whistling or "banter" - the chaps she has to work with here are downright sleazy and disturbing. Chief protagonist is Det Insp George Hawthorne, who is contemptuous of her ambition when lower in rank than him and also of her aloof manner towards him - mainly because she spurns his advances towards her. "You don't think she's a bit dykey, do you?" he ponders at one point to his colleague, the more amiable Det Sgt Boyd (Leonard Gregory). Played by John Forgeham, Hawthorne is a truly sleazy and unlikable character, and even more peculiarly his voice has clearly been dubbed with an atrocious Scottish accent that becomes ever absurd as the case continues. Surely his own bad impersonation would of been better than this dubbing nightmare, who could not of made him sound more ridiculous if they'd asked Joe Pasquale to do the job!
Despite this, he still isn't as creepy as their boss, Det Superintendent Harrison, played by Michael Sheard (aka Grange Hill's very own Mr Bronson). Initially he seems okay, but when Gill ill advisedly suggests a reconstruction of the dead woman's movements, Harrison decides she would be perfect for the role, with her colleagues more than happy to set her up for it. Gill's reaction is surprisingly hysterical and rather shrill, but Harrison cuts her down by reminding her she has a promising career ahead of her. "You're worried about making an exhibition of yourself - tough!" he tells her. Gill is judgmental and uncomfortable about the sort of woman the deceased was, but not nearly as uncomfortable as Harrison makes her when she later dresses up for the part. "It's not enough just to look like Charlie. I want you to behave like her, " he tells her up close. Not surprisingly she is a little disturbed by this, and begins to wonder if all blokes are like this. As it turns out, there is one chap who is polite, charming and courteous who has captured her attention - unfortunately for her it happens to be her dentist Robin Fraser, the man who murdered Charlie Stevens! While it's true Fraser is nothing like her work colleagues, it doesn't say much that her preferred man is a disturbed serial killer who emanates creepiness. When Gill first visits Fraser at the dentists she spots a photograph of a woman he has taken and remarks on how striking her eyes are. "Like looking into the heart of darkness," replies Fraser. "That was what she always used to say." Gill notes the use of past tense, but Fraser never elaborates any further, leading you to wonder how many he may of killed already.
This thriller pervades a dark and unsettling atmosphere throughout, but it's relentlessly sleazy intonation makes for very uncomfortable viewing. Nearly every place looks sinister, with the night scenes in particular emanating a soulless sense of dread, but it also leaves us very much fearing for Gill Parsons safety in all of this. She has little comfort to turn to in her sexist colleagues, but it leaves her particularly vulnerable as the one person she feels safer with because they are unlike the others is the one that she is at greatest risk from. In a way all the sinister and sleazy connotations help add to the impression that Gill is very much vulnerable in this, and although there is an attempt to make Foregham's character seems a bit more sympathetic late on, her character is very much on her own in a dark and scary world. Like the previous Killer installment, this has a somewhat peculiar ending, but it may make a little more sense to some than the first story. Dearbhla Molloy is okay in the main role as Gill Parsons, but she - like most of the cast - are upstaged by Anthony Valentine in a truly unnerving performance as the disturbed love lorn dentist that is far better than this thriller probably deserves. And as for Grange Hill fans, you will of never seen Mr Bronson quite like this before!
Killer Waiting (1984)
Killer start with an absurd end
This trilogy series from 1984 told three individual stories; Killer Waiting, Killer Exposed and Killer Contract. I'd never heard of this before, but as you may gather from the title it involved mystery and the threat of death. They were lucky to find some decent star names to appear in it, such as John Thaw, Diane Keen, Anthony Valentine, Edward Woodward and Wanda Ventham - lucky because I'm astonished that this short lived series even got commissioned. This first story, Killer Waiting, is the best of the trio, but that really isn't saying much for what is a dark, grim series.
It's a shame, as it starts out very promisingly. John Thaw plays Major Peter Hastings, a man who is looking forward to marrying to his young bride Kate Greenwood (Diane Keen) in a few weeks time. He lives in a cottage in the wild Yorkshire countryside with his young son and two dogs and nothing could be happier. However, it then switches to Dublin, where a man called Fuller (Stafford Gordon) enters O'Malley's Hotel and is shown upstairs to a dark room, where an unknown man offers him £15,000 to kill Hastings in five days time on November 8th. He gives little detail at first, other than he says Hastings is responsible for the death of a woman called Rose O'Malley and that of another man. He also gives instruction that he wants Hastings to suffer, but that he mustn't be killed until the 8th.
So off Fuller sets for Yorkshire and the next day Hastings receives a phone call telling him he will die within the next few days. Hastings is perplexed at first and pays little attention to it, though he does go target practicing in his grounds (he has an extensive arsenal of weapons and a firing range), just in case. But while Kate and his son are there the hitman fires at his son and two dogs, killing one of them, as Fuller puts into practice the instruction of making Hastings suffer for his crime. After that it is a game of cat and mouse, as Hastings tries to outwit the hitman while we try and work out why he is being targeted. But as it progresses it becomes apparent that Hastings may know more than he really lets on, and certainly doesn't tell his fiancee anything about the phone calls. He explains away the killing of his dog as a game hunter's stray shot and when she later receives a letter telling her to ask him about a woman in Ireland called Rose, and that of the death of another man out there, he is evasive and arranges so that she is goes away from the cottage for the next few days.
The makers handle the tension quite well as we wonder just what is going on and Hastings attempts to outwit the hitman, and the bleak Yorkshire landscape adds to the unsetting atmosphere and feeling of isolation. But the major drawback in this is that Hastings is not a likable character, despite the casting of John Thaw in the role. When we first see him with his family he is amiable enough, but as the story progresses he begins to show an arrogant and dismissive demeanour towards people that cannot be explained away just by the mysterious threats to his life. In one scene he spots a man up on the hillside and thinking it's the hitman creeps up and threatens him with a gun, only for it to be a birdwatcher. But far from being apologetic, he orders him off, firing a shot at him to frighten him off. And as it continues with the battle of wits between Hastings and the hitman, who comes up with various inventive stunts to frighten and target him, it says something that you end up chuckling at how Fuller keeps outsmarting him. You shouldn't do, but because of Hastings character he ends up a hard person to sympathize with.
As a thriller it does well with the tension right up to the end, and adds an extra positive with the disturbing flashbacks that Hastings begins to suffer with when each phone call reveals more about why he must die and the circumstances about the death of Rose and another man whose death he is accused of causing. But is he guilty or innocent of the accusations? Who were these people? And who is behind the hitman's orders? It culminates with an explosive and exciting finale, but when the twist comes it is utterly absurd. It makes no sense whatsoever, and destroys any credibility it had. It has to be said that both John Thaw and Stafford Gordon give good performances, with Thaw particularly convincing in the suffering he goes through when haunted by his flashbacks to the past, while Gordon is surprisingly likable at the hitman as the thriller plays out. Diane Keen has less to do as the fiancee, but does well in the climatic scenes, but you wonder why on earth she continues to love such a arrogant character as Hastings. But the acting, well handled action scenes and underlying tension throughout this is not enough when it is hindered by an unlikable lead protagonist and an ending that totally ruins this thriller. The fact that this is the best of the trio may tell you everything you need to know about the other two installments. Overall, there is a reason this series is rarely remembered. Once watched, it's one you few would ever wish to see again.
The Girls of Slender Means (1975)
A drama of Slender plot
This period comedy drama was based on a novella by Muriel Spark, but quite how the makers have managed to extend her story to 3 episodes is anyone's guess. It benefits from a pre-fame cast that includes Miriam Margolyes, Patricia Hodge, Mary Tamm, James Laurenson and Jack Shepherd, who all play their roles with enthusiasm. But it cannot distract from the fact that very little actually happens. And that is rather disappointing, considering it has an intriguing premise on which the story begins.
It starts in 1960, where Jane Wright (Margolyes), a successful reporter for a woman's magazine, spots a newspaper report on the death of a missionary in Haiti. The man Nicholas Farrington was someone she knew during her time living at the May of Teck club during the war and she decides to ring up other members of the club who were there at the time to glean their memories of him so she can write an article about him. And it is from that period just after the war in 1945 that the story focuses on and the various residents of the May of Teck Club. The club - or hostel, to give it a better name - was set up for single ladies under 30 for a place to live during the war for "the pecuniary convenience and social protection of ladies of slender means" (hence it's title). It's a bustling place full of young women living there, all pretty cheery and with their interests in fashion, politics and men. There's Selina (Mary Tamm), the club beauty who turns the head of many a man, Anne (Patricia Hodge), who owns a Schiaparelli dress that she loans out to the other girls (for a price) and Judy (Jane Cussons), who is involved with a married American G. I. Then there is Joanna (Rosalind Shanks), a vicar's daughter who teaches elocution to the other girls and is often quoting poetry, but seems troubled by guilt over something, while Pauline (Judith Paris) is a somewhat odd and vacant girl who goes out every evening, telling the others she is dating Jack Buchanan. But the one who is the focal point of it all is Jane Wright, a plump girl who works for a publishers firm and who yearns to be thin, but finds herself snacking between meals as she needs "food for her brain."
Then one day she encounters Nicholas Farrington (James Laurenson), a radical anarchist who enters her publishers with a book of his ideas that he hopes to get published. Despite orders by her boss to get him to accept a low fee for his manuscript, Jane finds herself smitten by Nicholas and tries to do her best to help him get his novel published, despite friend Rudi Bittesch (Jack Shepherd) telling her it is awful. Amusingly when she questions him about Nicholas, he mentions that he likes both men and women. Stunned, she asks "Has he decided?" Not put off, she invites Nicholas over to the May of Teck club, and there he becomes involved with the other girls. Indeed, he is like a kid in a sweet shop when he first sees the place and has no qualms about manipulating Jane in order to go back there or find out information about the girls. Jane accepts because she loves him, despite soon realizing that his interests may lie with the beautiful Selina, but also because he fascinates her with his views and politics, and at one time is taken to a party full of so called political thinkers that is as pretentious as it sounds.
Indeed, a lot of this drama consists of political waffle and theorizing, with characters proposing, analyzing or dissecting other people's political theories. It's hard to tell whether it is satirizing or propounding these people and their ideas, but there is one amusing moment where after bedding Selina, Nicholas expounds how she should "know her body" in one of his 'meaningful speeches', only for her to puncture it by asking "Do you know where I can get any curby grips?" But the political analyzing does dominate at times, and despite the set up I have described sounding intriguing, truth is very little in the way of incident happens until the last episode. There is plenty of hussle and bussle within the club and the girls as they busy about their lives, but not much else. One of the more notable incidents is when Selina and Anne want to sunbathe on the flat roof of the club, only to find that the trapdoor is jammed. However, they discover that they can get onto the roof through a small bathroom window, but there is a snag - for most of the girls they can only get through if they remove all their clothes! It's an amusing running theme in this drama, and I doubt many people will of seen a young Patricia Hodge in quite so revealing a role as this. Indeed, when later there is a dramatic incident it turns out the only way for many of the girls to escape is to remove their clothes and climb out through that window - the dodgiest plot excuse since Logan's Run when Michael York told Jenny Agutter she needed to strip to avoid freezing to death!
As well as the surprising nudity, it's helped somewhat by an enthusiastic cast of then mainly unknowns who enter into the spirit of things and keep things lively and engaging. As well as the main cast of young women, it's helped in support by the three elderly founders of the club, Greggie, Jarvie and Collie (Madeleine Christie, Valerie Lush and Rosalind Greenwood), whose bickering with each other adds an amusing dimension to things. Ed Bishop and Jack Shepherd also make an impression - in different ways - as the American G. I Felix Dobell and Jewish publisher Rudi Bittesch, two of the few men in the series. While Bishop is solidly dependable, Shepherd is more notable for his unusual accent and exaggerated gestures. While he'll win no prizes for his accent, he is certainly lively. But the most notable performances come from James Laurenson and Miriam Margolyes. While Laurenson's character is engaging and full of charm, he is also a shallow opportunist whose head is easily turned by a pretty lady. He is also a mass of contradictions, having started out an anarchist to now working for the government and to of been a pacifist who later declares the war has given him peace. While he is attracted to Selina, he becomes intrigued by the poetical Joanna, who is one of the few women seemingly immune to his charms. Is it this that attracts him to Joanna, or her focus on her work and spiritualism? Whatever it is, during that time there something happens that changes a free love anarchist into becoming a missionary, and Jane has to figure out what if she is to write about his life in her column.
But it's Margolyes that steals the show as the plump, lovelorn Jane Wright. This series deserves some note for having a plump and plain character as the star lead, especially in an era of glamorous leading ladies, but Margolyes makes an engaging and sympathetic character. When she first starts out her reminiscences about Nicholas upon reading of his death, it's clear she still loves him, despite realizing even back in 1945 that he didn't really love her. But we also begin to wonder whether he was even the worthy character she believed him to be or if she is merely blinded by her affection for him as the series progresses, and it becomes clear when she rings about her friends at the start that he does not feature as prominently in their memories as he does hers. In one sense it's a sad fate to be forgotten, but another of this comedy drama's problem is that there is very little emotional impact or depth other than Margolyes' character, even when one of their number is later killed.
Despite it's flaws it is quite amusing throughout, and the cast spark off well together. The 1940's settings and general wartime spirit add a warm glow to the series, despite the obvious studio sets. The hostel itself and garden hold up pretty well to scrutiny and the bustle of the numerous girls keep things lively to detract from the sets. Only the 1960's scenes with the "split screen" shots of Jane on the phone to her numerous friends look a little comical, with it consisting of a black background and two people on either end of the screen. Also somewhat amusingly Margolyes is given grey streaks in her hair for this period, despite the fact she is only 23 in 1945, making her merely 38 in 1960! But for all of this it cannot detract from the fact that this is a drama of slender plot. Although it gets better as it goes along, it isn't until the last episode that something dramatic truly happens, and a tragedy occurs that affects them all. Those dramatic scenes are well handled, but the series ending rather lets it down. It's a drama that doesn't seem to know where it is going in the end and becomes rather too waylaid by it's own political naval gazing and philosophizing. It's somewhat abrupt ending rather robs it of any emotional impact of the fate of Nicholas and the other girls and left me feeling that this was a drama of missed opportunity. It's cheerful enough and fans of Mary Tamm, Patricia Hodge, Judith Paris and Anna Sharkey are likely to be pleasantly surprised. But I came into this expecting so much more, and instead I went away feeling it was much ado about nothing.
A Certain Justice (1998)
Decent finale overshadowed by Ashe
This marked the end of the Roy Marsden/Adam Dalgliesh series that ran from 1983 to 1998, and it is not a bad adaptation to finish off on. For a start it features Penny Downie, ten years after her appearance in A Taste For Death in 1988 (hurrah!). It also features the character Kate Miskin (double hurrah!). However, inexplicably Downie is playing a completely different character, while Miskin is played by Sarah Winman. Even more peculiarly Downie is reunited by A Taste For Death co-star Matthew Marsh, here playing the extravagantly named Drysdale Laud. What was it about A Taste For Death that saw casting agents plunder their cast for future adaptations, I wonder?
As it is, Downie is on good form here as Venetia Aldridge, a barrister who is in the middle of a murder case where her young client Gary Ashe (Ricci Harnett) is accused of murdering his aunt, who ran her house as a "place of ill repute" (so to speak). Yet the story is less concerned about whether he is innocent or guilty (there's little doubt about that), but on Venetia herself, who from the opening credits we learn that she has ten days before she will be murdered, demonstrated by a old chap pasting newspaper cuttings in a scrapbook detailing her death. It's an intriguing opening and from then on we watch as we see how her life unfolds and enemies are made, knowing that she is soon to die. Wonderfully, the makers have finally gone back to what made the series so compelling by letting us get to know not only Venetia and her personality, but her work colleagues at the London Chambers and what some may have against her. She discovers that fellow barrister Simon Costello accepted a backhander from his client to ignore nobbling of jury members in a case and threatens to ruin him. Costello is married to colleague Desmond Ulrick's niece Lois, so he also has an interest in this. Married MP Mark Rawlestone is having an affair with her, but wants to call it off as his wife is now pregnant, while Matthew Marsh's character Drysdale Laud wants to be elected as the next Head of Chambers, but knows if Venetia covets the job he will likely lose out. She calls on his help because she is disturbed to discover that Gary Ashe - the lad she is able to get off for his aunt's murder - is now dating her dipstick of a daughter Octavia and wants to buy him off. When Drysdale refuses to help, she threatens to block his appointment as Head of Chambers, leading to yet another suspect who may of wanted her out of the way.
Yet there are others who unbeknownst to her may have secret reasons of her own to seek revenge. For Venetia, what interests her about law is not about guilt or innocence, it is the flaws of "legal justice" and how she can pick holes in her opponents' case against her clients to convince the jury to believe her side of the argument. It matters little about truth and whether her client is guilty or innocent and more about winning a case, and subsequently there is the possibility that someone from a former case may be looking to seek revenge. Could the secretary Valerie Caldwell, cleaner Mrs Carpenter or even porter Harry Naughton (Porridge's 'Orrible Ives himself, Ken Jones) be a viper in the bosom of the legal chambers (if, indeed, it needs any?). There's some irony that Venetia is disturbed by the prospect of Gary Ashe hanging around her daughter, knowing what he is like, but having made him a free man just by her "principles" of law. The phrase "hoisted by her own petard" comes to mind. Yet despite this, she is not a unlikable character and because of the time taken to set the stall of the case before the murder you actually care about what happens to the character, and sum up the other suspects with a bit more depth.
Dalgliesh comes late into this mystery, called in after Venetia is found dead in her office chair, stabbed and wearing a wig with blood poured over her head - and not her own blood either! That belongs to Desmond Ulrick, who keeps a pint of his own in the Chamber fridge in case of emergencies for an operation he is due to have (as you do). Dalgliesh is, as mentioned, assisted by Kate Miskin, now played by Sarah Winman. Although still not a patch on Downie, Winman is still far more appealing than Lizzie McInnery's portrayal in Original Sin, and although she may also be rather 'official' sometimes in the role, she is a warmer character and has a better rapport with Dalgliesh. As to the suspects, some work better than others as you try to work out who could of "done it." Ian McNeice is flamboyant as Desmond Ulrick with a regular witty aside or scathing comment, while Matthew Marsh and Miles Anderson are both suitably shifty and smarmy as Drysdale Laud and the New Labour MP Mark Rawlestone. In one telling and amusing moment when presenting a united front with his wife to Dalgliesh, while at the same time lambasting rumours about him and Venetia, he asks "Surely there is a limit to hypocracy?" "I haven't found one," replies Dalgliesh witheringly. Less successful is Richard Huw as Simon Costello, who is so hopelessly nerdy you cannot possibly take him seriously as a potential killer (though that doesn't mean it isn't him, I may add). Far more likely is his wife Lois (Nina Marc), niece of Ulrick, who knows their cushy life and ambitions could disappear if Venetia reports him. However, she has sadly few scenes to set that argument for the audience. The more intriguing characters are the ones who do not seemingly have a motive, such as the slightly sinister Edmund Froggatt (Philip Stone), who inspired Venetia's love of law, and the Chamber cleaner Mrs Carpenter (Britta Smith), who heard someone in the Chamber toilets the night Venetia was murdered and who may know more than she lets on. The best out of them all in this group is Frederick Treves as Herbert St John Langton, Head of Chambers, who has a gap in his alibi because he has recently begun to forget things. The scene with him and Dalgliesh in the Crypt is nicely done and Treves gives a lovely understated performance.
However, one big, noisy problem in this adaptation is the character of Gary Ashe, who is so much a part of this murder mystery. From the beginning with his trial to the determined seduction of Venetia's idiot student daughter Octavia and then moving in with her after her mother's murder, Ashe is there throughout. Although Ricci Harnett's portrayal is certainly sinister as the disturbed Ashe, his character is utterly unlikable. Indeed, it's incredible to think that Octavia (played by the lovely looking Flora Montgomery) would be so easily swept off her feet by this charmless nark just because he fakes a fall from his bike outside her place. Octavia is so dim that even when he starts displaying psychotic behaviour, such as pasting the walls with magazine cutouts or threatening a young lad with a knife, she still sees very little wrong with him. This mystery is quite enjoyable when he is off the screen, but when he is on it he ruins the whole mood of it, despite the fact his character is crucial in some ways to the plot. And sadly he dominates the last episode as he and Octavia ride off on his motorbike to search for his former childhood hideout, and along with some genuinely unpleasant moments he just emanates a grim and depressing mood on the whole adaptation. While much of this mystery is 1980's form, he is very much a 1998's product bulldozing his way through the production.
Overall, for the most part this is a mystery very much reminiscent of the "old" P. D. James adaptations, and if it had just stuck to the Chamber murder and it's occupants this would of earned a 7/10 rating. But whenever the character of Gary Ashe appears he just dominates and depresses the production, especially in the final episode. It may not end satisfactorily for some viewers either regarding the murder of Venetia, but when it is able to just focus on her murder case this mystery can be quite enjoyable for the viewer. And at least it goes back to establishing the characters and events building up to the murder, which made P. D. James mysteries so compelling to watch in their pomp. It's just a pity that for much of this the mystery is so dominated by Ashe.
Original Sin (1997)
Beware the snake...
After two feature length mysteries P. D James returned to the screen in a sort of multi episode format again with Original Sin in 1997. Here it is in 3 parts and is somewhat of a return to form (of sorts) after the disappointment of the last two adaptations. It also goes back to one of P. D. James' recurring themes, the setting in an institution or closed workplace, and here it is set at Innocent House, a book publishers where staff have to travel across the river by boat just to get to it. Needless to say, being trapped at their workplace until clocking off time creates a rather tense workplace, so it's no surprise to find that not everyone gets along with each other - if at all!
Indeed, when this story starts off Dalgliesh turns up at Innocent House on the invitation of an old friend, poet Gabriel Dauntsey (Ian Bannen), who is one of many working at Innocent House. It turns out that Gabriel hasn't called up Adam just for a social chit chat but because he and a number of colleagues have been receiving anonymous spiteful letters that are becoming worrying. But before Dalgliesh has even had time to digest this bit of news, his attention is diverted to a commotion upstairs, where the body of one of the employees, a Sonya Clements, is found dead on a bed in a sparse grimy room. Seemingly she has committed suicide, but if so, why? And if not, why was she killed? As the inquest takes place, Dalgliesh takes somewhat of a back seat as life continues at Innocent House, which has been taken over by young upstart Gerard Etienne (James Wilby) from his respected predecessor and proceeds to make himself very unpopular indeed with the staff. The letters progress to more sinister methods when Gerard's car has acid poured over it and by the end of the first episode another body is discovered in the same said room (I'll give you three guesses who it is). Intriguingly he is half naked and with a toy snake stuffed in his mouth, and is such a startling sight that it also adds to some amusement when one characters suggests it could of been an accident, only for the dead man's sister to point out "What - with a toy snake stuffed in his mouth?" (It might pass as misadventure, I suppose...).
Naturally, there are a number of suspects and Dalgliesh has to decide who would wish to kill him (anyone who knew him, perhaps?), such as his sister Claudia, who now takes over the business and needs the money for her lover; former lover Frances who objected to his attempts to sell Innocent House; James De Witt, who secretly fancies Frances (despite hints at first that he might be gay, due to the young flatmate he has in another recurring P. D. James theme); secretary Miss Blacklett, whose snake was used to stuff Gerard (not literally, you understand) and who was facing the sack, plus novelist Esme Carling, whose works Gerard had decided to drop after 30 years and who was none too pleased about it. Or could it be new girl Mandy Price, who has only just started working at the establishment after turning up on her bike, who may have a dark secret to hide? Helping Dalgliesh in the case is new boy Daniel Aron, plus the return of Kate Miskin (hurrah!). Sadly it isn't Penny Downie in the role (boo!) but Lizzie McInnery, who plays her as a humourless and rather robotic character who tries too hard to be tough and be "like the men." They've not even bothered to match up the actresses, with Lizzie blonde to Penny's brunette, and as such invites unfavourable comparisons to Downie's performance in A Taste For Death. And speaking of that, this also features Matty (aka Gabrielle Lloyd), here playing a nun and the sister of Sonya Clements, the dead woman found upstairs at the beginning. Don't worry if you'd forgotten her, because at times so does this adaptation.
There are flaws in this adaptation and some crucial ones at that. As mentioned, the original death of Sonya Clements is often forgotten and it's never really gone into why (or if) she committed suicide. It also never explains why the murder room was vacuumed, while there is the point mentioned by one of the reviewers on here about one of the murders where the killer is clearly given an alibi for the time it was committed. How then could they of done the murder? Was Hissing Sid the snake also in on the act? It also doesn't help itself in maintaining the mystery when a recurring theme pops up throughout the adaptation in conversation. Once that is mentioned, you just know it has to have some connection with the deaths, and from that point on the murderer's identity looks almost obvious.
Despite it being a 3 part mystery, it could of done with setting the scene more before the first death, as Sonya is just reduced to a corpse in an attic, with no real impact of the effect of her death on her work colleagues or what she was like. Indeed, it might of be wiser to establish the characters first to get to know them better, as few of them have any depth to them - except maybe Gabriel Dauntsey and Frances Peverell, who is haunted by her past and a tunnel that disturb her dreams from her childhood. But that is because this adaptation does canter along at quite a speed to prevent any real analysis of character, and despite it's flaws it cannot be said to be dull. It keeps interest throughout it's 3 episodes and there are enough incident and murders to keep the average viewer gripped. It also has some humour, such as the moment when Dalgliesh asks if the dead man was liked, only to be told by a sparky Rowena Cooper as Mrs Demery "Well, he wouldn't be carried out in a body bag if he was a little ray of sunshine now, would he?" Cooper is amusing but rarely used in this, as is Samantha Edmonds as the bright and chirpy Mandy Price, while other performances range from poor (Carolyn Pickles) to going through the motions (James Wilby - do you think he yearns to play a nice character for once?). More fun is Sylvia Syms as the peeved rejected novelist Esme Carling, who adds life into all the scenes she has. Ian Bannen is always good value, while Amanda Root adds some depth to her troubled character Frances Peverell. There is even an appearance by a young Brooke Kinsella, who may be an important witness for Dalgliesh.
It's conclusion is bound to have an impact on all who watch it and also leave some a little angry too. As the last intended victim is confronted about the reason, their attempts to justify it with the usual lazy argument and retaliation accusations grated with me as there was no remorse whatsoever from this rather unpleasant character. Nor did Dalgliesh pull them up on it, as it became clear he was going to keep a very impartial attitude to proceedings and how sympathy was only reserved for them. The shock twist revelation for the murderer did little to dampen feelings that you wished the killer had managed to succeed at the job before being caught, and although a killer has been caught it left you feeling that justice had not really been done. That aside, and despite the many plot flaws that dog this adaptation this was still an enjoyable watch. It goes along at a great pace for modern viewers and has enough incident and deaths to make sure it is never less than compelling. It isn't in the same vintage as the 1980's adaptations, but after the disappointment of the feature length failures that followed it, this marks as a decent return to form. Not outstanding perhaps and it would of benefitted from more depth in the characters. But it still remains an interesting mystery that maybe plays it's hand a bit too open for the reason behind the kiilings.
Flickers (1980)
Flickers part of the Golden Age of television
It's amazing what you stumble across in the archives of television, and this 1980's TV series is a gem of a find. Set in the 1920's during the age of the Silent Movie, it is wonderfully evocative of it's era - not so much the sets or fashion of the era, but of the hard graft it took for ordinary people to make it in the movies and just to get things running. What makes it more appealing is that although the Roaring Twenties glamour of the Bright Young Things showed off the style and fashions of the time from the upper class point of view, here you get ordinary working class people and their all too real lives - something you don't always see in a production about the 1920's.
The series involves fleapit owner Arnie Cole (Bob Hoskins), who makes his living showing films to the picture going masses with his small group of workers; girlfriend Letty (Sherrie Hewson), heavy drinking but amiable driver Llewellyn (Fraser Cains) and the organist Violet (Sheri Shepstone). Realizing that cinema is going to be big, he decides that making movies is where the money is and decides to set up his own film company. Only trouble is, he has no money and the only one who has capital is Lady Maud (Frances De La Tour) and her brother Clive (De La Tour's real life brother Andrew), with Maud none too taken with Arnie, who she regards as a conman. However, despite having a smart head on her, Maud is still susceptible to flattery, but in this case it's the silver tongued charm of a chancer who leaves her pregnant. Stuck with a impossible situation she makes Arnie an intriguing offer - she will back his new idea, but in return he has to marry her. That he does sets this story in motion, but there are other storylines that add to the interest.
For a start, Arnie needs some stars and a director for the film, as well as a studio to make it in. Deciding that comedy is a sure thing to draw in the masses, they hire Corky Brown, a fading comic married to the beautiful Clara but with also the insecurities of being married to one, with him constantly suspicious of whoever she hangs around with and turning to alcohol to deaden the pain and the growing knowledge that his fame is beginning to fade. His agent is Max Legendre, who has ambitions to be a film director and proves shrewd enough in the contract negotiations, much to Arnie's chagrin as the film gets underway. Also involved are the Brewer family, who tag on the success of their young daughter Dotty in their bid for stardom themselves, despite the fact that Dotty is anything but Shirley Temple sweetness and is also now 16 years old! They also have a older daughter in Clara, who is tired of being overlooked by her family and has ambitions of her own to make it big. If this means having to pose nude for photographs to get noticed by the director and using the infatuated cameraman Percy Bowden to do so then she will, just so she can break away from her family in her bid for stardom. Meanwhile Percy is an understudy learning his trade who is given his chance to be cameraman for Arnie's studio is a surprising act of kindness from Corky. All of these need the studio and films to succeed, otherwise their one chance of stardom is likely to die with it.
What follows is all the trials and tribulations that can and did befall many first time film makers, from the temperamental director who succeeds in alienating the cast, a star name casting that proves older than thought and with delusions of grandeur (and a drug habit), plus an alcoholic has been who they struggle to keep sober enough to shoot the film. One of the reviewers described this as not really a comedy, and in one sense it is true (though it is very funny). It's a richly layered story that combines both comedy and pathos, detailing real lives and fears, with all the worries, jealousies and insecurities that exist in the industry with all involved with dreams of their own. While Corky laments both his failing marriage and career, he at least has had success. For the Brewer family, they are yet to taste it, which is why they pin their hopes so much on the daughter Dotty. What's so intriguing is that as the series progresses, the initially more likable and neglected daughter Clara becomes more selfish in her bid for fame, while by the end you appreciate the reason Dotty is so narky towards her family is that she is fed up of being a kid and wants to be seen as the adult she has become. The constant sniping between her and her father Jack is great fun, and Philip Madoc is very amusing as Jack, who when he is not trying to suppress the urge to throttle his daughter is trying to maintain a happy ship for his anxious and overwrought wife Lily (Sheila Reid). Although he has tried a number of times to leave her, he knows that she cannot cope without him.
There are many that shine in this, including Granville Saxton as Max Legendre the pretentious director, and Peggy Ann Wood as Maud's formidable Nanny, who is horrifed to see who Maud has brought home as her husband. But it is Bob Hoskins and Frances de la Tour who are the main stars of this, and the beating heart of this comedy drama is the uneasy relationship between the two. Much of the interest is that neither really know about the other when they enter a marriage of convenience, and the fun is in them learning about the other. Both are fiesty characters and there are plenty of fights that are great fun to watch. Arnie is a selfish character at times, driven by his ambition to set up his own film studio no matter what and looking for any means to raise money for his project. At one point he plans to sell Maud's house from under her, only to discover that Maud is no pushover. Yet he is also surprisingly considerate, such as the fact that he is prepared to take on Maud pregnant with another man's child. When he sees her at the hospital after she has given birth and she tells him next time she'll provide him with his own son he tells her that as far as he is concerned he is his son. It's a lovely moment, as is the scene when he sees her in her blue dress ready for a party and is unable at first to express how nice she looks. Their practice tango dance is also great fun, and the rapport of Hoskins and de la Tour is superb.
A special mention also for Fraser Cains and Sherrie Hewson. Cains plays Llewellyn, Arnie's sweet natured partner in crime who finds his loyalties tested by Arnie's many money making schemes alongside that of his admiration and consideration for Arnie's wife Maud. When Arnie asks him to bring back Lily to the studio, he eventually refuses due to his affection for Maud until Arnie explains that he has no intention of cheating on Maud. As for Hewson as Arnie's former girlfriend Lily, she gives one of her best performances here. Cruelly abandoned early on when they are rumbled by police filming at a racecourse, she is naturally angry at first when she hears Arnie wants her back for his new film. But she cannot forget the deep love she had for him and returns despite her better instincts in the hope that he wants her back, despite him now married and with a child. The scene where Arnie finally disillusions her is both compelling for his speech as it is heartbreaking to see Lily's hopes crumble at that moment and it is a superb piece of acting by Hewson that proves she is more than a Carry On comedy star.
Although there are occasional drops in tempo in episodes, this is a superb and funny comedy drama that manages to combine the two perfectly to make a richly rewarding series. Despite Arnie's character being a selfish so and so occasionally, you just will for him and Maud and their band of performers to succeed - not least because you have seen how hard they have had to work just to get where they are. And it remains compelling because of the drive and energy of the two main stars Hoskins and de la Tour, whose rapport and chemistry with each other just shines through. It's astonishing to think this is so rarely repeated, but as a comedy and a human drama of the 1920's it is as televisually important as it is heart warmingly funny and one that leaves you warm inside for the endurability of the human spirit.
A Mind to Murder (1995)
They should of binned this lunatic adaptation
I am not a fan of the condensed one off P. D. James adaptations, not least because it cuts out so much of the depth in character and build up of the situation that involved you in the mystery. With this adaptation it matter not one jot because the writers seem to of disregarded the novel altogether to write their own mystery and just keep the title of the book A Mind To Murder. That novel was an early one from the pen of P. D. James, but quite an enjoyable one, where Dalgliesh stumbles upon a body at a clinic after hearing a scream when at a party. Here the only similarity is the actual body in the basement, as all else has inexplicably been changed - including that of the murderer! You won't find out who did it in this adaptation - trouble is, you won't find much of anything from the book in this!
In this version, it begins with Dalgliesh at a stakeout by a warehouse awaiting backup by Special Branch as he looks to rescue a kidnap victim. When it comes through that backup will be delayed, his eager female sidekick DS Sarah Hillier decides to charge in herself. When Dalgliesh eventually goes in after her, he discovers the kidnap victim trussed up, a dead man lying in a sleeping bag and when he looks over the rail he sees his sidekick lying dead on the floor with a balaclava wearing gunman standing over her looking up at Dalgliesh. As one reviewer pointed out, why not just shoot him instead of letting him run away? As it is, the higher brass would like the case closed, but Dalgliesh is on a mission to find her killer and know what is going on (wouldn't we all?). As it is, they have a urgent job for him to investigate that needs hush hush treatment - a murder of one of the doctors at a clinic for assorted oddballs (or the Steen Clinic for psychiatric patients, as they phrase it). I can imagine the rebranding going on there. "No, you can't call it that. You have to set the patients' mind at rest. It's no longer the Funny Farm, it's called the Lunatic Asylum." And would you believe it, when Dalgliesh gets there he believes he has spotted the mysterious balaclava wearing assassin that killed his sidekick among the patients. What are the chances of that, eh?
And boy, it's some madhouse! The clinic treats a variety of patients of different conditions and neurosis, such as the mentally fragile Estelle, a former budding singer, split personality Philip Tippett, who stabbed his mother (but not badly, you understand) and alcoholic depressive Neil Casey, who Dalgliesh is convinced is his sidekick's mysterious assassin. But dominating the lot is George Costigan's Mr Cheeseman as the snide, pernickety tattletale, who is a former treasurer to the government who has suffered a mental breakdown - after watching this, it's understandable! I usually like George Costigan as he can enliven many a show even when it is bad (the depressingly dreary Master of The Moor comes to mind). But here his character is so irritating that he just grates and you yearn for him to meet a nasty fate. While he does indeed receive a nasty shock (so to speak) during the mystery, the fact that he survives to the end is a big mark against this mystery for me. They are the only four psychiatric patients believed to have a motive for killing Diane Boland, the doctor found stabbed with a chisel in the basement with a wooden effigy resting on top of her. However, her character apparently was a stickler for the rules and a busybody, and as such the staff are just as much in the frame, with Doctors Bageley and Saxon having an affair, while her cousin and one of the nurses at the clinic Sister Ambrose was desperate for money to look after her ailing mother. There is even a suggestion of lesbianism in Boland's deep affection towards young receptionist Jennifer Priddy suggested by one suspect, but that is later regarded as more maternal than sexual. Finally, there is clinic boss Professor Etheredge, who is cool but amiable to Dalgliesh, but because he is played by Frank Finlay with his piercing eyes you doubt just a little bit whether you can trust him - especially when he gets somewhat cagey about showing Dalgliesh private files of his patients (or rather, one of his patients).
It's really hard to know what to make of this (basically new) mystery adaptation. It's never really explains why top brass asked Dalgliesh to take on the case, especially as they deny knowing that the suspect in the death of Dalgliesh's sidekick would be at the clinic. David Hemmings makes a pointless and somewhat brief appearance as a government official who asks Dalgliesh to close the case after another death of one of the clinic members, while the suspected assassin Neil Casey is also somewhat of an enigma. That he is connected to Special Branch or high office is apparent, but that is all is really given away. In one scene when Dalgliesh first questions him, he mentions that he is at the clinic for his nerves and depression, and asks if Dalgliesh has ever been frightened. He also denies killing Dalgliesh's sidekick Sarah Hillyard, but that only makes things more baffling. Did he go in on Special Branch orders unbeknownst to Dalgliesh and kill the man in the sleeping bag because he killed Hillyard when she raced in? Or did he kill Hillyard out of fear because she surprised him? Even so, that doesn't make sense because of the dead man in the sleeping bag. If he killed the kidnapper, what has he to fear from Hillyard? Or is he, like Dalgliesh suspects, the actual kidnapper now apparently wracked by guilt? It's a mess of a problem that is never satisfactorily explained.
The actual murder of Diane Boland is a bit more easier to follow, but the general insanity of the place and lack of engaging personalities among many of the suspects make this hard to warm to. Dalgliesh does at least get two assistants to help him out in proceedings in DCI John Martin (Robert Pugh) and the unfortunately named DS Kim Horrocks (played by Susannah Corbett, daughter of Harry H, who holds herself well here). Christopher Ravenscroft (Insepctor Wexford's old sidekick) appears as the cynical alcoholic Dr Bageley, playing a slightly more 'cheery' - and bearded - version of Mike Burden, while Jerome Flynn pops up as a handyman to the clinic who also likes to keep his hands on receptionist Jennifer Priddy (Biddy Hodson). But the most notable performance comes from Cal MacAninch (from The Riff Raff Element) as Philip Tippett, who suffers from split personalities with someone he nicknames Frank and who he supplants that personality to the effigy which has been found on the dead woman. He is a more sympathetic character than many on display here, as his character becomes increasingly disturbed and worried that his "other" personality may take complete control over him one day. Another of note is Suzanne Burden in a less showy role as Sister Ambrose, making her character believable as a woman secretly troubled by her financial worries and her mother, as well as knowing that as the dead woman's cousin she is likely to be chief suspect in the murder case.
If you can bear the general oddness of the clinic this might make a passable mystery to the uninitiated. But I actually read the novel of this a few years AFTER first watching this, so I saw this without any concept of what the book was like and didn't think much of the TV adaptation even back then. The fact that it changes nearly everything of the novel makes it even more inexplicable, especially when considering how poor a job they make of writing a new mystery. There is yet another dramatic climax that seems to be the thing in P. D. James adaptations now (possibly to pander to audiences who expect a chase rather than a intelligent denoument), this time over mudflats and the treacherous prospects that entails. But it cannot disguise the fact that there are too many odd or unengaging characters and that it leaves so many questions unanswered. Indeed, there seems to be little point of the opening scene and of having Dalgliesh as some maudlin avenging angel - and he is particularly maudlin in this - if you are not going to explain just what on earth is going on with the balaclava assassin. They might as well of cut that plotline altogether, but I suspect they added that element in as just a plot filler to make up time because the story itself has little to sustain itself for it's reasonably brief running time. Overall, if they weren't going to do justice to P. D. James' original novel, then you just wonder why they bothered at all. Sadly, after watching this I wondered much the same.
Unnatural Causes (1993)
If only they'd removed the hands of the scriptwriter
Adam Dalgliesh returned to the TV screens two years after the curious misfire of Devises and Desires in a brand new format - the feature length mystery - for this adaptation of P. D. James' early novel Unnatural Causes. But almost immediately it becomes apparent that you cannot condense a series that was a multi episode format into a 1hr 44mins one off mystery and what comes across in the finished article is a rush job with little attempt at depth in character or substance. And it's a shame because the plot outline - about a mystery writer who ends up dead in a boat in the sea with his hands cut off - sounds rather intriguing.
To outline the premise, mystery novelist Maurice Seton is spotted in a casino in London taking photographs and notes of people at the gambling tables there. The owner, a shady character by the name of L. J. Luker, takes exception to this and has him ejected, only to find that he has gone off with the incriminating film. The next morning a boat comes bobbing to shore in Southwold in Suffolk with the said dead Seton, minus his hands, which has been mail ordered to Luker (nice to know at least the Post Office could do deliveries smoothly back then, though Luker is non too appreciative of this, unfortunately). If it was to prevent identification, why not remove the head? And why is he floating in a boat to begin with? I can't imagine he'd be doing much fishing without his hands. By sheer coincidence Dalgliesh is investigating Luker's shady deals with the Japanese and decides that as Seton was seen at the casino then there must be a connection and shoots down there to join the Suffolk police on the case. The police, led by Inspector Reckless (yes, really), are remarkably reasonable about this, but Dalgliesh is in for a shock when the toxicology report tells him the deceased died of a heart attack and that his hands were cut off hours later, making the case even more perplexing than it is already. Thing is, was his end met by the crooked casino boss, or is it the local residents who Dalgliesh must look for among the suspects, who all seemingly have reason to give him a Viking sendoff.
If I have made this sound intriguing, then sadly the result is less auspicious. The opening scenes involving the casino, with quick cuts to residents in Southwold watching literally critic Oliver Latham on the TV, make the opening 15/20 mins rather confusing at first, as you wonder just where the connection actually is between the seedy London casino and the seaside charm of Southwold and it's somewhat eccentric residents. It takes about half an hour before it settles down to become a reasonable murder mystery of what we are accustomed to, but it's running length is such that there is no build up to establish the characters or to set up the scene so we can know the victim better before he meets his demise. That was something of the appeal of the previous format of P. D. James mysteries and while the screenwriter would of struggled to make this stretch to 6 episodes, at least half would of been possible with some imagination. As it is we have a host of suspects whose characters range mainly from caricature to camp - yes, P. D. James' recurring theme of homosexuality in her novels pops up again (though no brother-sister relationships this time), though it isn't just the gay character who is camp in this. While James Cossins' character Justin Bryce is clearly gay, he is less camp than Bill Nighy's portrayal of literally critic Oliver Latham. Nighy, like so many of the cast, seems to go into theatrical mode here, and Cossins' waspish Bryce is far more nuanced than Nighy's foppish critic. Marjie Lawrence is not much better as Celia Calthorp, and while Simon Chandler is decent enough as Digby Seton, brother of the deceased who stands to inherit his brother's fortune if only he marries, and Anne Lambton is okay as the disabled Sylvia Kedge, she is a little overwrought at times. The only one who adds any freshness is Lucy Briers, here cast against type as the teenage Elizabeth Marley, whose youth and amusing demeanor adds vitality to proceedings and makes you regret that she was soon lumped into dowdy roles as plain Janes in such roles as Pride and Prejudice just a couple of years later.
Another strange edition is the reappearance of Mel Martin as Deborah Riscoe, who pops up here 8 years after her appearance in Cover Her Face, now dating Dalgliesh. What happened in those 8 years, where Dalgliesh in that time was also breaking off a relationship with Sheila Ruskin (in The Black Tower) and interested in Susannah York's character in Devises and Desires just two years ago? Has he been playing the lothario all this time? Surely not! And I can't imagine Deborah Riscoe would be so understanding as to settle for an "open relationship", so why now have the writers brought her back? It's not that Riscoe's presence isn't welcome, as Mel Martin at least gives a performance of depth and realism to proceedings, plus it's nice to see Dalgliesh so happy for much of this mystery. It's just smacks of laziness by the writers who seemed to think by just bringing back an old character would make viewers forget some of this adaptation's shortcomings. Instead it just feels odd, and an excuse to fill time on a somewhat sparse mystery by having Deborah becoming tired of Dalgliesh's commitment to the job (ah, that old chestnut) and giving him an ultimatum on just who he values more. I think I can guess where this is leading...
Once it gets past it's confusing opening it is not a bad mystery, and it does have a memorable climax where Dalgliesh finds himself trapped in a house during a storm that is quite spectacular. But it's feature length format just doesn't suit the P. D. James mysteries and gives no time or depth to establish things, while too many of the cast play for cheap caricatures rather than the more considered portrayals in the 1980's. And because of it's format, it loses one of the key ingredients in a P. D. James adaptation - the sense of atmosphere and foreboding. Despite there being three deaths, plus an attempt on another's life, you never feel fear for their lives - mainly because most of the characters are so theatrical as you couldn't really care about their fate. And when Dalgliesh finally discovers who the killer is, it is because one of the suspects tells him and the reason why, rather than Dalgliesh figuring it out for himself or discovering some clue. While it certainly isn't the worst of the P. D. James adaptations - that was soon to come with A Mind To Murder the following year - it's a sad reflection on how by trying to "modernize" a tried and trusted format for the 1990's the writers instead made it lose the thing that made P. D. James adaptations so absorbing in the 1980's; it's ability to involve audiences in proceedings and play detective throughout it's in-depth format. With this mystery, we are merely bystanders just watching on the sidelines as events flit by.
Screen Two: Memento Mori (1992)
Remember you will die laughing...
Memento Mori is an unusual curio in that it's first description is somewhat deceptive. On first impressions it is a murder mystery - and there is a murder - but to call it just that would be misleading as the crime happens about two thirds of the way in. It also involves some of the elderly characters in this reflecting on their own mortality, yet far from being maudlin it is a hugely heartwarming and funny affair, where many of the cream of British acting from yesteryear appear. And there are a lot of stars in this, with Michael Hordern, Renee Asherson, Maggie Smith, Maurice Denham, Cyril Cusack, Stephanie Cole, John Wood, Zoe Wanamaker and Thora Hird just some of the stars gracing this production. And it is an absolute gem of a production, sadly never repeated on TV since it's broadcast in 1992.
The plot begins with Dame Letty Colston (Stephanie Cole), a somewhat proud and bossy woman, receiving a mysterious phone call by a man who tells her "Remember you must die." It's not the first time she has received this call, and always the same message, and she is becoming unnerved by it. She relays this incident to her brother Godfrey (Michael Hordern), who lives with his dementia hit wife Charmain (Renee Asherson), but disconcertingly she receives another phone call while at their house. Later they attend a funeral of one of their friends, Lisa Brooke, but when members of the group - including Godfrey and Charmain - start receiving the same mysterious phone calls an ex policeman is called in to investigate. And it turns out that the recently deceased Lisa Brooke has a connection with a number of the mourners, such as Godfrey, a lover from her past, and once competed with Charmain for the affections of Guy Leet (Maurice Denham), who surprises them all by turning up alive and apparently still married to the deceased Lisa - much to the annoyance of her housekeeper Mrs Pettigrew, who had expected to inherit from a dubiously made will, and Lisa's brother and his wife Ronald and Tempest Sidebottome. Could the reason for all this come from the deceased's past?
That's what ex Inspector Henry Mortimer (John Wood) has to find out, and he has to navigate with delicacy and tact with this group of elderly eccentrics as he tries to uncover the truth. He has one sane outlet in Godfrey and Charmain's former housekeeper Jean Taylor (Thora Hird), who is stuck in a nursing home after a fall among a number of senile and confused old ladies and seems to have some idea of what it may be about. John Wood is a lovely presence as Inspector Mortimer, gentle, probing and nearly always with a sense of bemusement at some of the antics of the geriatrics he has to investigate. He has some lovely scenes with both Thora Hird and Renee Asherson, who are both superb playing completely different characters. While Asherson is delightful as the dementia suffering Charmain, a former novelist who may not be as half witted as many of her family suspect, Hird is beautifully real and believable as her bedridden housekeeper. The ward she is in may be a little chaotic at time with some of the senile residents there, such as Granny Valvona (Muriel Pavlov), who makes psychic predictions for all the residents, and Granny Barnacle (Margery Withers) a childlike woman with her dementia, but Hird's character finds their simple and carefree outlook at life a comfort to her. The scene when she later tells Inspector Mortimer that Granny Barnacle is being moved to the hospice ward is particularly moving and well acted by Hird, not least because Granny Barnacle is happily oblivious to it all.
And they are not the only ones who are brilliant in this. So many stars step up to the mark, including Michael Hordern, who is marvellous as the hopelessly lecherous Godfrey Colston. In one plot strand he sneaks out about once a week to visit Olive Mannering (Zoe Wanamaker), the granddaughter of one of his friends to pay her for her services - mainly to watch her lift up her skirt to show him her legs! However, little does he know that his wastrel son Eric is secretly hiding out at her place. He also finds himself the target of Mrs Pettigrew (Maggie Smith), who after losing out in the will of her former employer decides to attach herself to him under the pretext of looking after his senile wife, but it soon becomes clear that her motives are less than honorable. Maggie Smith creates a loathsome character in Mrs Pettigrew, as she uses Godfrey's indiscretion to blackmail him into letting her stay and plots to remove both the cook and Charmain from the equation in her plan to get Godfrey to change his will in her favour. You just long for the moment when she receives her comeuppance so diabolical is she, but equally as good is Maurice Denham as the twinkly ageing lothario Guy Leet. Wryly amusing, he is still able to pinch a nurse's bottom, despite now reduced to walking with two sticks and proves surprisingly successful at attracting the attention of young women in the end.
This black comedy mystery is done with such joie de vivre that it's impossible not to be swept away with it. As mentioned, despite it involving the elderly and the threat of death and mortality, it is never maudlin. Indeed, it's sets it's premise out with the phone calls, then goes with the flow of whatever unfolds, driven as much by the characters and their comical idiosyncrasies as the plot and incidents that occur as Inspector Mortimer continues his investigations. The scene where he gathers the suspects together in his house - unbeknownst to his poor wife - is delightfully chaotic, while the writing throughout this production is wonderfully humorous. It's way of going with the flow means you are never quite sure what direction it is going to go, which makes it all the more delightful for a mystery and you are so taken away by these delightfully eccentric characters and their lives that you don't really mind a bit. Indeed, the murder when it does come is somewhat of a shock, as is Inspector Mortimer's conclusion on the identity of the caller. This production received two BAFTA nominations, for Best Single Play and Best Actress for Maggie Smith (though in my opinion both Renee Asherson and Thora Hird were subtly better), but neither won on the day. But I suppose the best accolades that could be bestowed upon this are by the viewer, who if they should ever chance upon this will witness a wonderfully uplifting, deeply amusing and equally moving mystery drama that in the end has life lessons to teach us all. A richly rewarding production that deserves to be better known, and few with a cast as starry as this. A sheer joy.
The Flame Trees of Thika (1981)
Captivating but not particularly memorable
This is an intriguing curio from British television, based on the autobiographical novel by Elspeth Huxley. The story here sees young Elspeth (Holly Aird) travel out to East Africa with her parents Robin and Tilly Grant (David Robb and Hayley Mills) to set up a new life in the outback during the early 1910's. You sense this is more Robin's idea than a joint venture, but Tilly makes the most of the situation and gradually they build their home there and set up farm land. Soon after they acquire some neighbours, among them game hunter Piet Roos (Morgan Shepherd), Mrs Nimmo (Carol MacCready) and another young couple Hereward and Lettice Palmer (Nicholas Jones and Sharon Maughan), plus the arrival of an enigmatic young stranger in the shape of Ian Crawford (Ben Cross), a Safari guide. But life out in Kenya can be hard and desolate, with many dangers from wild animals, plus the strange customs and beliefs from the natives out there, which makes it all the more fascinating for young Elspeth as she adapts to life there.
I've described Flame Trees as a curio because that is what it is. It was made during a time when TV could just adapt and tell a story involving Brits during the colonization era without being tied up in issues about it's moral aspect. But in fact it gives a fair outlook on both sides of the issue here, with mentions on taking native land and one scene early on when Robin stops Piet Roos from whipping one of his workers to give him "a lesson he needs to learn." But it also doesn't shirk from the natives traditions or superstitions that also dogged their culture, such as one story involving one of the Grants' workers who takes to his bed after another has cursed him for being to blame for the death of his wife and child. As it is autobiographical it tells what it was like out there, not the sanitized version some people may like it to be, and along with the above mentioned it also shows the hardships, the loneliness for some, plus questions the ideas of going out to shoot animals just for "sport", which also leads to one scene where Elspeth admonishes Hereward Palmer for shooting a pregnant antelope, only to later be spanked by her father for refusing to apologize to him.
Elspeth is the main focus on which the story and incidents revolve. She is not always the cause of them, more an observer on life out there, the way the British behave and her fascination with the culture of the natives and her friendship with Njombo (Mick Chege), one of their African workers. Holly Aird is wonderful as Elspeth and carries the plot (such as it is) throughout it's seven episodes. Her innocence and curiosity is what carries this story, learning life lessons along the way, and being a child she is more willing to accept and explore the various native beliefs and superstitions. While some are just that, superstition, others are more spiritual and in one scene she is willing to accept a shaman to bless a baby antelope she has been given to protect it, whereas the adults would of just dismissed it as hocum. And her mother's attempts to be a nurse to the natives inspires her to do much the same with the local wildlife. In one episode she finds an injured pigeon, which she determines to nurse back to health. And the said mentioned antelope, bought as a present for her, often leaves you fearing for it's fate, such are the hazards of Africa. It doesn't sugar coat the reality of Kenya or the struggles to adapt and live out there.
It has to be said that not much actually happens in Flame Trees of Thika. There are incidents, such as Tilly working as a nurse for the natives, a native who believes he has been cursed and the family's attempts to break the native superstition to save him, the murder of a worker, plus the time Elspeth gets left with Mrs Nimmo when her parents go off somewhere and the wild party that occurs. The most prominent storyline involves the arrival of Ian Crawford (a captivating Ben Cross), who falls for the lonely and mentally unstable Lettice Palmer (a very good Sharon Maughan). Ian represents an escape from the loneliness of the outback and the coldness of her husband, who stubbornly refuses to go back. But it only serves to make her more fragile and unstable, not helped when one of her dogs gets killed by a leopard, leading to Hereward determined to track down and kill the leopard to placate his wife. Eventually the outbreak of World War One triggers a motion that breaks up the tranquility of the settlers' existence out there, as the men go off to fight and ultimately tragedy sees the families head back to Blighty. What is left is their experience of a life and culture they knew little about before, and memories of their life out there.
The most remarkable feature of this drama is the presence of Hayley Mills as Tilly Grant. Mills often found the transition from child star to adult career harder due to her breathy almost little girl voice and earnest way of acting, but here you don't notice that it's her. She adapts so well as Elspeth's mother that you just accept her in the role and it's easily one of her best adult performances. She is no shrieking violet when getting stuck into the hard work involved, nor is she scared about going on a hunt and getting close to danger or wild animals. It's a superb performance and deserves a lot of credit for creating a role of a woman just adapting to life out in Africa and all it throws at her. Overall, I found this drama interesting, with Mills in an unexpected role that she totally owns, but it's Holly Aird who is the undoubted star of this, due to being an innocent seeing things with unprejudiced eyes and her embrace of her new homeland. But it's also a strange drama in the fact that not much is actually concluded, and you are left with the feeling of not much actually having happened. It's an interesting curio which proved a big hit in 1981. But as much as I did enjoy it, there is little that lingers long in the memory - except perhaps the shimmering landscape of Kenya and a glimpse into their cultures of the time.
Devices and Desires (1991)
Plenty of Devises but not much Desire
Three years after A Taste For Death, the P. D. James mysteries returned with Devises and Desires in 1991. Yet despite the various plot strands and themes, plus the record amount of deaths in a P. D. James mystery (8 in all), there is something oddly detached about this adaptation. It was also the last of the 6 part mysteries that viewers were familiar to, and subsequent adaptations never had the same pull after that. I'm tempted to say the reason is due to this adaptation, but to be fair to it I have also read the novel and couldn't get into that either. I'm not sure the makers could of done any better to be honest as the main problem is that for all it's different characters and plot strands this production just lacks life - or more particularly the characters do!
Not that it starts out that way. It's opening is very effective, as teenager Valerie Mitchell (Sophie Ashton) leaves a disco one night after falling out with her boyfriend, but upon missing her bus decides to walk home before being given a lift in a car by two old ladies. Dropped off about half a mile from her home, she thinks she is safe to walk the rest of the way there, only to encounter the serial killer that is stalking the Norfolk area (no, it's not Howard the Duck), a character nicknamed The Whistler. P. D. James really does atmosphere well in her novels and it comes across here as the scenes building up to the murder, plus the encounter of The Whistler in the woods are remarkably frightening. It only makes you regret that the rest of this mystery does not keep up to the same opening high standards.
Dalgliesh himself appears soon after on holiday to sort through the effects of his aunt who has died recently (what a holiday!), and soon meets the other characters that populate the area - and there are a LOT of characters to meet. There are the Blaney family, headed by alcoholic widower Ryan, whose teenage daughter Theresa looks after the children; single mum Amy Camm and her toddler son Jimmy, plus boyfriend Neil Pascoe, who all live in a caravan near the beach. Then there are two female novelists who live together in a cottage (but not like you're thinking), Meg Dennison and Alice Rowe, while Alice's brother Alex runs the Nuclear Power Station nearby along with a bunch of less than happy co-workers who all live nearby in unspecified areas. Finally there are bickering Pub owners George and Doris Jago, plus local handiman Neville Potter, who lives in a caravan with his alcoholic mother. Considering that a serial killer is loose in the area, you'd think it would dominate conversation, but the main issue here is the Nuclear Power station, with on the one side giving employment to some of the locals who work there, and others who oppose it, such as the caravan couple Neil and Amy, who are environmentalists who often trawl the beaches to look for birds to clean (of oil and not as a hobby, you understand) so concerned are they about the environmental damage it may cause. And there is one employer, Toby Glenhill, who is having concerns about his work at the Power Station - not least because someone has hacked into the computers and infected it with a virus.
Indeed, considering this starts out as a serial killer mystery, it gets somewhat distracted by all the different characters and plot strands. As well as serial killing, this contains themes such as terrorism, alcoholism, threat of homelessness, sexual abuse, abortion, suicides, brother-sister relationships, plus homosexuality and lesbianism (two for the price of one this time) and a lot of bed hopping by characters who seem non-plussed about who they sleep with. And despite having six episodes to bed the characters down (no pun intended), these relationships have little in the way of chemistry or belief in them. For example, Amy Camm is determinedly anti-Nuclear, yet despite this and having a boyfriend she is also having an affair with the boss of the Nuclear Power station, Alex Rowe! Does this not go against her principles? In another example Toby Glenhill ends up sleeping with colleague Hilary Robards when meeting her topless on the beach seemingly just on a whim and on that one moment becomes infatuated by her. Then there are the characters Miles Lessingham and Caroline Amphlett, who both turn out to be gay, but whose sexuality is barely even discussed in length. Considering how much effort has been put into all these plot strands, there is little time for much depth for all these subjects and the writers rather sell their stories short.
There are also elements that are a little unsavory in this. As mentioned, there is a serial killer at work and before long two employees from the Power Station become the latest murder victims, leading to Dalgliesh and the police (headed by local copper Terry Rickards) to suspect that The Whistler may work at the Power Station. There are even suggestions that the killer could be a woman, due to the dog seen about the area, with closet lesbian Caroline Amphlett having a similar sort of dog and lack of alibi (suggestions of repressed sexuality, presumably?). But it's the details of forcing pubic hair in the victims' mouths that leave a bad taste (so to speak) and felt rather gratuitous and unnecessary.
Another problem with this adaptation is that the Power Station suffers the death of two staff members (and more to follow as the case continues, for various reasons), but their losses are barely felt. And that is because most of the characters in this struggle to come to life and are so uninteresting that you don't really care much for them. The dinner party debate involving Alex Rowe (James Faulkner) and Hilary Robards (Suzan Crowley) is one such case, so lacking in life is it. Crowley probably deserves some credit for bravely taking on the nudity she has to do in this, but her character is such a pantomime villain with the various people she upsets that you just know she is set up as the next victim, but cannot really care when she does meet her end. And that is with many of the characters. Ryan Blaney (Tom Georgeson) is under threat of eviction by Hilary, a struggling artist with kids to support who has turned to drink after the death of his wife. Yet he is such a unpleasant and miserable character (do you think Tom Georgeson ever yearns to play a cheerful soul sometimes?) that you do not really care for his plight, especially when he leaves his poor teenage daughter Theresa (Lisa Ellis) to look after his children while he wallows in self pity. It is her who is one of the few people who attracts our sympathy in this, and Ellis makes a good impression in her screen debut. Alex Rowe is similarly dull, while others are merely peripheral, such as Miles Lessingham and Jonathan Reeves, considering they are suspects in a murder case. Meanwhile Caroline Amphlett (Helena Michell) has more screen time, but her character is such an enigma that it is hard to engage with the character, and that is true with so many in this.
Of the few exceptions, Gemma Jones deserves huge credit for her nuanced portrayal of Alice Rowe, still haunted by abuse suffered by her father and worried about her brother. It's interesting to note that in the flashback scenes, the young Alex is played by James Faulkner's son Guy, but Kate Beckinsale does NOT appear as the young Alice - you only hear her voice. The only other performance that feels fresh is Nicola Cowper as single mum Ann Camm, but it is her activist boyfriend Neil Pascoe (Robert Hines) who you end up feeling for in the end. As for Dalgliesh, while Roy Marsden is engaging and sympathetic as usual, as has been pointed out in a number of reviews on here his character is basically a voyeur in this. He is not in charge of investigations - that is Det Insp Terry Rickards (a lovely performance by Tony Haygarth) - and eventually ends up helpless in stopping any of the many deaths that occur in this mystery. Indeed, it is Rickards who makes one crucial deduction when they go over the many victims of The Whistler, not Dalgliesh. By the end of all this he has not had an effect in any of the investigations, other than spotting the true killer, and by the conclusion the overall feeling is how many lives have been left devastated by the occurrences in this case.
This mystery, with all it's plot lines and incidents, should of been far better than it is. The first couple of episodes with The Whistler are superbly handled and chilling, but the characters are just not interesting or engaging enough to really care about them. With many of P. D. James adaptations they are set in a institution or workplace, such as a Laboratory, Hospital or Convalescent Home, with the focus on that. Here we have a Nuclear Power Station, but there are so few scenes of colleagues working together as for it to be redundant and almost pointless. Indeed, this adaptation's problem is that the characters are too far spread out, with only peripheral connections to each other and no rapport between many of them. And there are also scenes that are left unanswered, such as who was drinking with the victim Hilary Robards the night she died (Dalgliesh and Rickards discover two glasses on her table), and why does one character commit suicide by jumping off the Nuclear Power Station? For those approaching P. D. James for the first time, this probably will serve quite well as a decent mystery to watch. But for others accustomed to her earlier adaptations, this is a strange misfire. For all it's atmosphere and plot devises, it lacks much of the desire and just does not gel.
A Taste for Death (1988)
The pinnacle of the P.D. James mysteries
This is the first P. D. James mystery I ever remember watching. Not that I'm sure it was meant for kids, but I was fortunate to see it when it was first broadcast in 1988 and it stayed in my memory ever since - and no wonder! It is without doubt one of the creepiest mysteries ever filmed, full of atmosphere and foreboding - something P. D. James was especially good at in her novels. Indeed, having read the book years later it is remarkable how they have managed to adapt this. For those familiar to James' novels, they are not always conventional in their structure, and with A Taste For Death much of what happens in the first 3 episodes has already happened when the novel begins with the discovery of Sir Paul Berrowne's body. To see how they have adapted it here with so much back story to build up is remarkable and a triumph for the screenwriter Alick Rowe, who creates a masterpiece.
The story here begins with Tory MP Sir Paul Berrowne (Bosco Hogan) meeting up with Adam Dalgliesh in the park, where he shows him a series of anonymous letters written to him. They allege various things, including his involvement in his 1st wife's death in a car crash and his brother Hugo's murder, whose fiance Barbara Swayne he then married. But as Dalgliesh investigates, Berrowne begins behaving rather oddly to those who know him after having a religious conversion when visiting St Matthew's Church one day. He informs his council that he intends to resign as an MP, tells his wife Barbara that he plans to sell the family home and lets her cousin (and lover) Stephen Lampart know that he intends to withdraw all funding from his abortion clinic. More disturbing is when he is seen leaving an embankment where a young girl, Diana Travers (a brave part for London's Burning's Ona McCracken) is drowned, having been with a party of friends, including Dominic Swayne, brother of Barbara Berrowne. Barbara was also there at The Black Swan pub nearby with her lover Stephen Lampart, and later we discover that Diana worked for the Berrowne family after Sir Paul receives another anonymous letter suggesting he was responsible for Diana's death.
Bosco Hogan gives a lovely performance as Sir Paul Berrowne. He captures perfectly the man's decency as he is thrown into turmoil by his religious experience, conflicted by his wealth and his job as an MP knowing he has little power to do anything and tormented by past sins - including when he was once a solicitor and failed to acquit a man he was defending, leading to him taking on the man's mentally unstable daughter Evelyn Matlock (a memorable Gabrielle Lloyd) as a housekeeper out of guilt. Even though he only appears in one episode, Hogan leaves a memorable impression of someone you cannot help but like. When his wife Barbara informs him that she is pregnant, his first response is "Whose is it?" But he doesn't come across as callous because all of the people around him are so calculating and cold. And he has some lovely scenes with Roy Marsden as Dalgliesh, who positively radiates warmth here. When Dalgliesh is called to investigate Berrowne's murder, you cannot help but feel he is genuinely moved by the loss of a man he liked and respected.
And the actual murder is as memorable as it is bloody and bizarre. This adaptation does well in building up the events leading up to the murder, creating a feeling of foreboding right up to that fateful decision of Berrowne to ask Father Barnes if he can stay the night in the church vestry. When his body is discovered the next morning by cleaner Emily Wharton and a young boy, Darren Wilkes, they come across the bloody sight of both Sir Paul Berrowne and that of a tramp, Harry Mack, both murdered in the vestry with a razor blade. Quite why the tramp is there or why Berrowne's diary is found burnt in a grate is just two of many intriguing factors in this mystery that Dalgliesh has to pick through. But the settings of the church and the Berrowne house just adds to an unsettling feeling that pervades throughout this mystery that makes this genuinely creepy at times. And adding to this factor is the Berrowne household, dominated by Berrowne's mother Lady Ursula (Wendy Hillier). Boy, they are an unpleasant lot, with their snobbery and wealth (or the want of it) and utter selfishness in getting what they want. But they are also utterly compelling, made so by some marvellous performances.
It's hard to single out anyone, given that there are so many who are good in this, but chief amongst them is Wendy Hillier as Lady Ursula. The scenes where she hears that her son has been murdered by first Inspector Kate Miskin (Penny Downie) and then Dalgliesh are incredibly moving, and Hillier shows what a superb actress she was here. Equally impressive is Simon Ward, who is truly chilling as Stephen Lampart, a doctor who runs an abortion clinic that has very unethical practices. He creates the feeling of someone you can't trust, even when he is seemingly being nice to you, such as the somewhat unnerving scene he has with nurse Teresa Nolan (Rebecca Saire). Saire also deserves praise as the sweet Catholic nurse, who having lost her only friend in Sir Paul Berrowne, finds herself sacked from her job and tormented by guilt and of what she knows. And Gabrielle Lloyd is truly memorable as the unstable Miss Matlock, seemingly ready to lash out at anyone. And with her unpredictability and her tricorn hairstyle she makes for a unforgettable character. I also liked Derek Newark as Halliwell the chauffeur and Avril Elgar as Emily Wharton and her friendship with young Darren Wilkes (Tat Whalley), whose youthful exuberance brings colour to her empty life.
Indeed, A Taste For Death is as much a social comment on society in 1988 as it is a mystery, but one that does not bog itself down in preaching or in taking sides. There is a prevalent theme of class, politics and faith running throughout. Whereas Sir Paul Berrowne and nurse Teresa Nolan have their faith, others cannot believe such as Berrowne's mother, while Dalgliesh continues to be conflicted, having lost his faith after his wife's death. Meanwhile, while Berrowne is a Tory MP, his daughter Sarah (Kate Buffery) has rejected her upbringing to get involved with a group of left wing Marxists led by boyfriend Ivor Garrod (Rob Spendlove), who ironically works as a social worker. Yet it is pretty even handed in it's criticisms of both the Marxists and the Berrowne family, without the stereotyping that usually pervades TV dramas today. And class and wealth regularly falls under scrutiny. While the Berrowne family come from a long line of aristocracy and privilege, young Darren Wilkes lives in poverty with an alcoholic mother and later finds himself put into foster care. Barbara Berrowne and her brother Dominic Swayne grew up in hardship, but once married into the Berrowne family they are determined to keep onto their new found wealth. Meanwhile working class chauffeur Gordon Halliwell admires and respects Lady Ursula, but despises Barbara and Dominic because he hates spongers. In one telling scene Lady Ursula refuses to pay to have her hip seen to in a private hospital as she "likes to enjoy the privileges she is entitled to on the NHS." Meanwhile Kate Miskin's gran is stuck living in a block of flats on the 17th floor, unable to afford to move and later ends up in hospital after being mugged, with the hospital keen for Miskin to take her in to free up a bed. Penny Downie is wonderful as Inspector Kate Miskin, fighting to make it up the ladder in a man's world, and thoroughly aware of her lowly upbringing. She positively bristles with anger at times as she looks on how the Berrowne family look down upon others. Yet it doesn't overwhelm this adaptation either, and Dalgliesh is quick to remind her not to dismiss the Berrownes' grief out of hand because of this. Miskin is a great addition for Dalgliesh, a warm compassionate character who he bounces off wonderfully well, and it's just a shame that Downie wasn't persuaded to be brought back for the later adaptations. No one made their mark on her quite like Downie does here.
If there is one slight criticism, it is that for such a compelling and complex mystery it seemingly reveals the culprit sooner than it should. There is also a shooting in the final episode that never fully explains whether the character survives or not, but the actual scene stays long in the memory - well, it did for me as a kid! This mystery also involves another dramatic climax, though unlike The Black Tower here it seems to fit in with all the other dramatic events and revelations that occur in the final episode. Apart from these minor quibbles, A Taste For Death remains the pinnacle of the P. D. James cannon. It is packed with so many twists and turns and memorable moments, with a cast giving superb performances, plus a truly sinister and pervading atmosphere that is quite striking, especially in the church scenes which, far from emanating peace instead emits a deep sense of dread. The theme tune to this series has always been memorably eerie, but it is especially effective here. And what is even more remarkable having read the book is how they have adapted such a superb mystery with so little to work on from the book to establish it's opening episodes. It's that which makes screenwriter Alick Rowe's adaptation even more astonishing and such a shame that he never did any other P. D. James adaptations. This one is superb.
Hay Fever (1984)
I have an allergy to Hay Fever
I was so looking forward to this. I came across this just by chance on Youtube and sat down to watch it. After all, it is by Noel Coward, master of the witty word and capable of both dexterity of language and depth of emotion. This is a TV adaptation of what was one of his early stage plays, a comedy that apparently wasn't as well received when it was first staged. After watching this, I can fully understand why.
The jist of the play is centred around the eccentric (and somewhat ironically named) Bliss family, dominated by the matriarch Judith (Penelope Keith), a former actress who longs to be back on the stage. She is disconcerted to discover that her children Sorel (Phoebe Nicholls) and Simon (Michael Siberry) have invited their prospective lovers down to their country estate for the weekend - not least because she has also done the same and there will be no room for them with only the Japanese bedroom available to fit them all in. Both her children are inviting older lovers, Sorel her diplomat boyfriend Richard (Benjamin Whitrow) and Simon his girlfriend, the predatory and posh Myra Arundel (Patricia Hodge). Judith, by comparison, has a younger lover in Sandy Tyrell (Michael Cochrane), but he is in for a shock when he arrives - he doesn't know that she still has a husband, alive, and living in the house still. Paul Eddington plays her writer husband David, a variation on the characters that made him famous, though a little more absent minded, reuniting him with his Good Life co star Penelope Keith. He has a surprise of his own when he announces that he has invited a woman down to judge her for a job interview to be his secretary, Jackie Coryton (Susan Wooldridge), meaning that there will be four new guests for the weekend. Tailing off the list of characters is their maid Clara (Joan Sims), who is left to sort out the dinner arrangements.
When the guests arrive, little do they know what they are letting themselves in for - and neither did I. At first it starts off as a typical Coward play, all witty words and decent humour. But as the play progresses it becomes more bizarre as it goes on, starting with an excruciating parlour game that the family insist on involving the increasingly reluctant guests in and then a plot twist where Sorel's older boyfriend Richard (who insists he hasn't that inclination towards her) ends up kissing Judith, who immediately declares she must leave her husband to him, but how they must keep their relationship secret from her daughter. The poor chap is startled by her dramatic declarations, but when she does the same sort of theatrics upon discovering her daughter Sorel with Judith's young lover Sandy it becomes increasingly wearisome and strange. When her husband David comes in from the garden with Myra Arundel and declares the same thing, it becomes clear this family is not normal - not least to the guests!
By this point I began to find this comedy tiresome. What had started out witty enough becomes a infuriating self absorbed bore, and feels almost insufferably smug about how clever it thinks it is in regarding the Bliss family as people who should be indulged in their "eccentric ways" just because they are wealthy. They become neither amusing or lovable, but wearisome and irritating. I recall watching the Susan Stephen film "Father's Doing Fine" (1952), which was at times an exhausting film to watch with it's eccentric family. But at least it has a plot and conclusion to it - here there seems to be no rhyme or reason to Hay Fever! What is the actual point to this play? You couldn't help but feel sorry for the guests that find themselves trapped in this self indulgent madhouse, with the family using them to play out their own theatrical fantasies. It's not as if I can fault the performances. Both Phoebe Nicholls and Michael Siberry as the Bliss children hold their own admirably against their more experienced elders, such as Patricia Hodge, Benjamin Whitrow and Penelope Keith, who I felt was rather too theatrical as Judith. Susan Wooldridge was sympathetic as poor, shy Jackie Coryton, who wondered what on earth she had let herself in for, while I lament the fact that the wonderful Joan Sims is so underused in this, as she steals the few scenes she is in.
But in the end what started out as vaguely amusing and witty ended up irritating me, and the whole thing seemed an utterly pointless exercise in self indulgence. It's hard to believe that this play was written by a man who would later go on to write such film classics as Blithe Spirit, Brief Encounter and This Happy Breed. In one of the few scenes where someone actually snaps and rails against the Bliss family, Patricia Hodge's character Myra sums up everything for me when she says to Judith "I'm not going to spare your feelings or anybody else's. You're the most infuriating set of hypocrites I've ever seen. This house is a complete featherbed of false emotions. You're posing self centred egostists and I'm sick to death of you!" I know it's all a matter of opinion in the end, but Myra's sentiments said it all for me. By the end of this I was thoroughly sick of Hay Fever and it's crazy inhabitants.
The Black Tower (1985)
Something not quite right with The Black Tower
The Black Tower is an intriguing puzzle of an adaptation. It has the alluring name, a host of star names, plus a number of murders and incidents - yet despite this being a good murder mystery, there is something that doesn't quite gel here, and I can't put my finger on what exactly. It starts dramatically enough, with Adam Dalgliesh (now Commander) getting shot in a drugs raid. Struggling to recover, he is invited by his old friend Father Michael Baddeley to come down to Toynton Grange, a convalescence home, to recooperate. But by the time he has stopped moping and does so he discovers that his friend has died.
Mind you, no end of things occurs before that happens, for something very strange is happening down at the Grange. The place is run by Wilfred Anstey, who founded it to help others after he was cured of multiple sclerosis, but not many of the residents actually want to be there. Only elderly Grace Willison seems happy there. Ursula Hollis arrives there only because her useless husband Steve (who sadly doesn't get horribly murdered) doesn't want to look after her after she is diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Young Jennie Pegram was rescued by Wilfred from a hospital ward of geriatrics (why, had they threatened to eat her?) after a TV news report, but finds it dull as a manic depressive, while the irascible Henry Carwardine is seemingly there under sufferance. It is made worse when on Ursula's first day Wilfred announces that a young lad Henry was fond of, a former resident, has died. Yes, homosexuality pops up again in P. D. James land and on more than one occasion in this mystery, but here it implies that Henry looked on him more as a son than how Wilfred imagined, who nevertheless saw to it that the lad was removed from the Grange. As you can gather, Wilfred is not entirely popular, and before long someone has frayed his rope as he starts to go climbing - though luckily for Wilfred (if not the residents) he spots the damage before he can drop. Not even the staff like being there, with resident doctor Eric Hewson only there because he escaped a charge for an affair with a 15 year old patient, while his wife Maggie is an alcoholic who enjoys winding up Wilfred, who knows he cannot get rid of her when he needs her husband. What Maggie doesn't know is that Eric is having an affair with his nurse, Helen Rainer. Add to that some poison pen letters going around and the fact that the Grange is struggling for money and you have a very unhappy camp indeed. But it gets a lot worse for dear Wilfred when his only other resident, Victor Holroyd (a rather amusing Norman Eshley from George & Mildred fame) decides to throw himself off a cliff in his wheelchair after discovering at the hospital that he is unlikely to walk again. Or does he?
It's strange to think that Dalgliesh hasn't even arrived at the Grange, but once he does and discovers that his friend Father Baddeley has died he is almost immediately suspicious - especially when he spots his cabinet desk lock broken and something missing. When he hears about the other incidents, he becomes convinced something very wrong is going on at the Grange - but what? What follows is an incident packed mystery, including a fire at the Tower, one of the patients going 'over the wall' during the night (and who can blame them?), and practically a murder an episode, effectively filmed. And it benefits enormously by some great performances by some of the stars in this. As mentioned Norman Eshley is amusing as the ill fated Victor, who early on threatens to reveal a secret that will blow the Grange sky high before his death, and is matched in irascibility by the marvellous John Franklyn-Robbins as Henry Carwardine. He is constantly amusing and has some of the best lines, including one where after Grace (Rachel Kempson) asks if he's heard what has happened to Wilfred after the attempt on his life, he replies "Don't tell me he's gone climbing again with the same rope? That would be funny." Robbins also manages to combine humour with pathos, and is beautifully touching at times. Rachel Kempson is also good as Grace Willison and her scenes with Dalgliesh are beautifully judged, while Maurice Denham gives one of his best performances as Father Baddleley, radiating goodness but inwardly troubled, and one of the strengths of this adaptation is that the stars can give memorable performances for completely different types of characters. Martin Jarvis does well as the cringing Wilfred Anstey, while Harriet Bagnall deserves some praise as Ursula Hollis in her screen debut (whatever happened to her?). But topping them all is Pauline Collins, who is magnificent as Maggie Hewson. She is magnetic in this, a fiery, funny and vulnerable woman who lights up every scene she's in. The scene when she discovers her husband has been having an affair and goes to his mistress' room (a coldly effective Heather James) to hunt where he's hiding is great fun. But she is so effective at showing her vulnerability throughout, and you cannot help but feel for her. Only Art Malik feels miscast and out of place as the wealthy Julius Court, who lives nearby the Grange and has an active role in it's funding.
Indeed, one of it's flaws is that for some reason this adaptation just doesn't gel. Although all the residents at the Grange are strangers to each other, it is only Ursula who is a newcomer, yet it feels as if all of them have only met for the first time, such is the lack of interaction between most of them. Characters accuse each other of being the murderer, which grates somewhat and seems unworthy of a P. D. James mystery, while Valerie Whittington - so effervescent in The Missionary - is wasted in the role of the dour Jennie Pegram. Surprisingly Roy Marsden is somewhat cold as Dalgliesh to start with. I realize his character is struggling to reconcile himself to the job, but the rather pointless scene involving him and his (presumably) girlfriend, played by Sheila Ruskin, just made him seem a rather cold fish. It is also a little perplexing considering that in Cover Her Face earlier that year he had attracted the attention of Deborah Riscoe! What happened to her? He does soften by the time he gets down to Toynton Grange, but this adaptation suffers from the absence of John Vine as Inspector Massingham. His vitality is missing in this and leaves Dalgliesh with no one to sound off. To be fair, this also leaves him vulnerable, as exemplified by the fact he has had his confidence and faith shaken by his shooting, and adds to the sense of danger around the Grange.
Despite the incidents in the first episode, it is rather slow to get going but once Victor goes over the edge (no pun intended) there is plenty of incident to keep the viewer intrigued. But what becomes a big problem for this adaptation is that as it progresses it loses many of it's most interesting characters along the way. By the time it reaches the last episode so few charismatic personalities remain that it leaves few characters left to care for, and their absences are keenly felt. The rather overblown climax also feels a little out of place compared to the previous three P. D. James adaptations, and the ending is somewhat abrupt and bleak. Something else that differs this story from the others (though not a criticism) is it's motive, as while the others had emotional reasons for murder, in The Black Tower it is something far more sinister and calculating fueling the killings. Overall The Black Tower has a lot of dramatic incidents to make this a great mystery, and one scene involving a hanging and the desperate attempts to revive them is hugely impressively and compellingly done. But there is just something about this adaptation that stops it being a truly great P. D. James thriller. It's good, but it should of been even better.
Getting Hurt (1998)
A flawed thriller of two halves
This dark study of the subject of obsession was originally written by Andrew Davies (yes, that one) as a novel in 1989. Now remembered for his period adaptations like Pride and Prejudice, he later adapted his book for the screen in 1998 and it is as far removed from Jane Austen as you can get. I know as I remember watching it as a teenager when it was originally broadcast, and even now there are a couple of scenes that stay in the mind.
The story begins when London solicitor Charlie Cross (Ciaran Hinds) is called out of bed in the middle of the night to represent Edgar Bosco (Nicholas Hope), a man arrested by police in connection with the murder of a number of prostitutes. Straight away Charlie realizes it's not going to be an easy case because Bosco is a little bit, err, odd. He looks odd, and although he is polite and courteous, he doesn't help matters with his enigmatic way of speaking - such as when he tells him at their first meeting "I am guilty, of course - in a sense. Well, you know, aren't we all?" (speak for yourself, buddy). And it doesn't help that he's been caught picking up prostitutes for his somewhat dubious photographic artwork. But is he guilty? Or is somebody else out there doing the killings?
Bosco asks him to contact a woman called Viola, who works as a waitress in a bar nearby to inform her of his predicament. But Viola (Amanda Ooms), who Charlie discovers is actually Bosco's wife, doesn't want to know and is happy for him to stay in custody. It seems that she is frightened of him and when Charlie turns up to visit at their flat he discovers the place covered with (mainly naked) photos of Viola on the walls. But Viola is a little bit enigmatic herself and when he goes to leave she calls out "Are you a good man? Can you save me?" For Charlie, a supposedly happily married man with a teenage daughter, he immediately becomes besotted with her and by the end of the day he is like a rat up a drainpipe as he turns up at her flat to embark on a highly charged affair. What follows threatens to destroy his marriage, his career and his life as he becomes obsessed with her - so much so that when Viola shows him a book of some of Bosco's more disturbing photography he gives a anonymous tip off to the police to blacken the case against Bosco further. BIG mistake!
Getting Hurt has a lot of flaws, not least the speed in which Charlie becomes obsessed with Viola. From the first moment he sees her he is apparently so smitten that by the end of the following day this happily married man is indulging in rampant (and very frequent) nookie with his client's wife - a man, I may add, who is on a MURDER charge! (Let's face it, would you risk jumping into bed with a woman whose husband looked like Edgar?) Yet Charlie does, and by day two (yes, you read that right) he abandons his wife and daughter to move into a flat with Viola. It doesn't really convince, and part of the problem for me was the casting of Amanda Ooms as Viola. There is nothing wrong with her performance, but I struggled to see her inspiring obsession in anyone, let alone two men. Then again, they always say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and to be fair to her she gives a committed performance that also involves her, along with co star Ciaran Hinds, having to bare all in a number of sex scenes that leave nothing to the imagination. When Charlie and Viola first have sex, she comments that his lovemaking was like him coming back from the dead - inferring that he had become dead in his marriage. And certainly there is a lack of life between him and his wife Helen (Ingrid Lacey), despite apparently being a happy marriage. There is little to show what Charlie has to lose from his affair, and maybe if it had been a 2 part thriller it could of taken more time in establishing his marriage and home life, as well as building up his obsession with Viola. As it is, here it feels rather rushed, with few chances for characters to gel.
It also suffers from some risible dialogue, not least the unintentionally funny scene where Charlie confesses to his wife that he's been seeing someone. "What do you mean?" she asks, confused. "You're hallucinating?" You have to pity Ingrid Lacey for being lumbered with such dialogue, as she is given little to do. But she convinces in what scenes she has as the wronged wife hurt and bewildered by her husband's behaviour, and she does have one moment of fun when she completely loses it when she spots her husband in a shop buying women's underwear meant for Viola (at least, I hope it was for Viola!) Fairing far better is Victoria Shalet (Harmony from The Queen's Nose) as their teenage daughter Claire. It makes a refreshing change to see a teenager in a drama who isn't moody or stroppy, and Shalet gives a lovely performance as the daughter struggling to comprehend the situation she finds herself in while all that she knew as certain crumbles about her. There's a particularly touching scene when Charlie picks her up from school in his car to tell her they are splitting up. Her hurt is plain to see as she whimpers "You're supposed to look after me," and you cannot help but feel for her character. And it is Claire who is the unwitting catalyst for what is to come, as after a somewhat average first half the fun really begins when the police unexpectedly release Bosco on bail. None too pleased that his own solicitor has set him up, or that he is also sleeping with his wife, Bosco decides to stalk his family and sets his sights on Charlie's daughter. In one memorable scene he visits Claire at her mother's art gallery where he proceeds to photographically seduce her, before then showing her some of his own photographs - including secretly taken nude snaps of her own father with Viola - before getting very ratty indeed! It's a chilling scene, not least because Claire is so vulnerable in a situation in which she is totally innocent due to her father's reckless behaviour. And there is an added sense of danger as it is still unknown whether Bosco is a serial killer or not. Either way, he's clearly unstable!
Despite it's flaws, it makes up for it somewhat with it's exciting 2nd half and benefits from some decent performances. Nicholas Hope is certainly unnerving as Bosco, whose sheer strangeness and politeness make for a compelling combination, while David Hayman is great fun as the detective Corvin, who becomes exasperated by Bosco's evasive answers and Charlie's erratic behaviour as he tries to solve the recent murders of prostitutes. It is Hayman who is responsible for much of the bad language that frequents this mystery, but he also has many of the best lines as the seemingly only rational one on the case. But it's Ciaran Hinds who dominates this thriller, thoroughly convincing as the man who risks his family life and career for the highly charged lust of the young, enigmatic Viola. But once he has her, he becomes obsessed with the fear of losing her and eventually becomes the same sort of person that drove Viola to try to escape Bosco. "Let me breathe, Charlie. Trust me," she says at one point. But Viola herself is hard to work out. Is she the victim of other men's obsessions, or is she more calculating, a destroyer of men? It's hard to tell in this, but by the time this thriller edges towards it's tense climax she has left a trail of chaos. It's telling that when Corvin asks Charlie where he thinks Bosco might go if he wanted revenge, Charlie realizes that he would target those he held dearest to him. But instead of driving to his wife and daughter's home, he instead goes straight to Viola's flat, such is his obsession with her.
Overall, Getting Hurt is a thriller of two halves, hindered by a slow start but makes for a compelling thriller once Bosco is released on bail, and the uncertainty of whether Bosco is guilty or innocent makes this a tense watch. The bleak weather and frost laden streets help add to it's sinister feel, while the jazz soundtrack and doomy TV score evoke perfectly a dark and somewhat soulless nightlife. It's not a great thriller, by any means, but it is effective as a study of the destructive forces of obsession. And the 2nd half of this thriller makes you wish that it had started in the same vein as it finishes. Flawed, yes, but not without interest, and certainly not for the faint hearted.
Cover Her Face (1985)
Sally Jupp the heart of the mystery
This P. D. James mystery feels somewhat different to the other two adaptations in that it doesn't focus around an institution. Whereas Death of an Expert Witness centred around a forensic laboratory and Shroud for a Nightingale a hospital, Cover Her Face is different as it is set in a village and centres around a country house lived in by the Maxie family. Not that it starts out that way. Straight from the off we follow Sally Jupp (Kim Thomson), a single mum with her baby son, get out of a taxi to go and visit her old work colleagues at the Book Club in the city. Outside she bumps into old friend Stavros Veludis, a Greek cypriot who greets her warmly enough but seems to be running away from someone. Later she goes down to change her baby and discovers the dead body of Stavros on the stairs and hears someone running away. Naturally she is a person of interest to Dalgliesh, both as a witness and a friend of Stavros, and it is soon revealed that he was chief suspect in a drug case Dalgliesh is working on. He also becomes convinced that Sally isn't telling him everything she knows, but when he goes to question her at St Mary's Refuge for Single Mothers the manageress Alice Liddell (Freda Dowie) informs him that she is no longer living there. In what seems an astonishing stroke of luck she meets Dr Stephen Maxie (Rupert Frazer) on a train, who hears what happened to her and hires her to work at his family's country home. Or is it?
Straight away the curiosity is aroused, but it is not the only suspicious activity going on in the village. Dalgliesh is surprised by Alice Liddell's nervous demeanour when he meets her, but why? Could the answer be something to do with the Refuge accounts? Sir Reynold Price (Bill Fraser), a rich financier on the committee seems to think so, but he himself is a little shady and both may have connections to the case Dalgliesh is investigating. The Maxie household at the country house seem ordinary enough however, with Eleanor Maxie (Phyllis Calvert) looking after her ailing husband upstairs, while children Stephen and Deborah (Mel Martin) argue over whether to sell the house or not. Both also have suitors mooning other them who later come over to stay as they prepare for the village fete - Catherine Bowers (Claire Higgins) and Felix Hurst (Julian Glover). But the arrival of Sally Jupp to help housekeeper Martha in the kitchen (a formiddable Jean Heywood) shakes up the whole place in ways they never imagined. Before they know it, she's made an enemy of Martha (not hard, I grant) and creates turmoil throughout the group when she announces her engagement to Stephen. Their reaction is such that it couldn't of been worse if she'd served them up roadkill for their evening meal!
Sally Jupp is at the heart of everything in this. She is evasive every time Dalgliesh questions her, and seems to be involved with everybody from Stavros Veludis to the Maxie family, St Mary's Refuge and even Sir Reynold Price. She is a mystery to everyone because she is such an outsider to them, and the fact she won't even reveal who the father of her baby is lead many to speculate just who could of impregnated her. And her actions are constantly shifty, including her secret meetings with village lad Derek Pullen (Robert Glenister), who gives her letters postmarked Venezuela. Her character is fascinating because she is so hard to pin down and Kim Thomson deserves huge credit for her performance. It's not that she's outstanding acting wise, but she is so compelling in the role with a mixture of cheerful disposition and calculating manipulation she portrays that can switch at a moment's notice. You know you can't really trust her and her character is not particularly nice, but with Thomson in the role you can't help liking her in some strange way. And that is partly because the Maxie household are not always easy to like. They all look down on her due to her background, and many are openly hostile to her. Even the seemingly reasonable Eleanor Maxie displays some prejudice towards her lowly status when she uses the phone in the hall, reminding her that staff use the kitchen phone and to note down the calls made. When Sally is brought in by Stephen during the fateful dinner, it is Eleanor who pointedly informs her that staff members' place are in the kitchen, in a hint to her that she is not part of THEIR circle. It's this, and the feeling throughout she is in grave danger, that keeps you on her side, despite her manipulative character.
Indeed, it has to be said that after Sally is indeed later found murdered that this mystery begins to lag somewhat. The first three episodes are compelling, featuring a suspicious death an episode with Stavros' murder, Miss Liddell's highly suspicious suicide (or is it?), complete with a strange phone call from the dead woman afterwards to someone, to the events that eventually lead up to Sally's murder. There are so many off shoots that are happening in the village or in Dalgliesh's drug racketeering investigations that these episodes are never dull. But Sally is such a dominating presence that when she is killed her absence is keenly felt and the intensity of the mystery drops because of this. It's a shame because by and large this is a well acted mystery with some notable performances. All of the main actresses handle the emotional challenges their characters go through with aplomb, such as Phyllis Calvert, Mel Martin, Claire Higgins and Freda Dowie. But best of them all is Jean Heywood as the formiddable housekeeper Martha. Hers is not a likeable character at all, cantenkerous and unforgiving at times. But despite this Heywood is able to portray her tender side and secret love towards the ailing Simon Maxie beautifully and her scene with him when he has died is outstanding. Bill Fraser proves he is not just a comedy actor in his role as Sir Reynolds Price, while Ronnie Stevens is superb as the shifty and nervy Victor Proctor. But my favourite has to be Julian Glover's beautifully judged performance as Felix Hurst, a thoroughly decent man in love with a woman who cannot love him back. Rupert Frazer's Stephen Maxie, however, is so objectionable that you can't help but hope that someone punches him on the nose before the end of the mystery.
It may slow down halfway through, but it uses it's country settings well and there are some beautifully shot scenes, including one on a bridge with Stephen and Sally during the village fete that is breathtaking. It's surprising therefore to see during the car sequences involving Dalgliesh and Massingham some stage backdrops used that are painfully obvious. It also features a couple of topless scenes involving Marsden and Frazer that was likely meant to add a bit of phwoar factor in but is more likely to see women (and men) running screaming from the room at the sight of such skinny pasty bodies. I know I did. There are also some wonderfully chucklesome moments, intentionally or otherwise in this. Nick Berry (pre-EastEnders) makes a delightful appearance as a delivery boy in episode 2 and is cheerfully amusing as the apprentice passing comment on the YTS Scheme. And there was a unintentionally funny moment when in one scene a drug addict teenager is caught raiding the Book Club by police, who when asked what his name is I thought he said "David Mellor" If only!
Overall this is a well acted mystery that starts well but the death of one of it's main characters impacts somewhat on the remainder of the episodes. Despite this it has enough though to keep you interested, it has some beautiful scenery and it remains an absorbing murder mystery.
Golden Ivory (1954)
Not even Susan Stephen's charms can enliven this
I first heard of this a couple of years ago, mainly due to the fact it features Susan Stephen in it. Originally released as Golden Ivory in 1954, it later changed it's name to the less apt White Huntress when it was bought up by American International Pictures and released as part of a double feature with Naked Africa in 1957 to corner the sexploitation market. There is a reason why they bought this up (I'll get to that later on), but bizarrely they released it in B&W and cut 15 minutes from the film. The original full length colour version is hard to come by, but I was fortunate enough to come across it. However, if you are expecting a daring and risque film, you are going to be severely disappointed.
Indeed, this is one of those average adventure films that they used to churn out in the day. The story starts intriguingly enough when a chap staggers across the African landscape to a hut where he collapses and dies holding a parchment. The native who finds him shows it to two brothers, Jim and Paul Dobson (Robert Urquhart and John Bentley), who realize it gives details of an elephant graveyard where precious ivory can be found to make their fortune. Soon after they latch themselves onto a party of settlers who are going across Kenya to set up a new life and offer to help lead them over the dangerous terrain. Their real intentions are clear: they are plotting to find the elephant graveyard, but a spanner is thrown into the works when brother Jim falls for the daughter of one of the settlers, Ruth Meecham (Susan Stephen) and his focus becomes more on her and the settlers safety.
Already there are some features that will grate with modern audiences. A story of ivory hunters would certainly be frowned upon today, as would the pioneers going out into Africa to find a new life in someone else's country, and the settlers attitude to the natives and the uprising Masai rebels, who are a little peeved about them claiming parts of their land for themselves. But in watching old films viewers should remember that it is portraying a part of life in history, whether good or bad - just the same as many who happily watched TV series like Rome or Spartacus where those pesky Romans colonized other countries and kept slaves. As it is, the main problem they should complain about this film is that it is just so dull! The film is only 1hr 20mins long, but it feels longer. Along the way the group encounters a number of dangers, including tiger and snake attacks, a couple of native uprisings, plus the arrival of Mr Seth (Alan Tarlton), a mysterious stranger who tells a story of surviving a massacre, but who leaves the viewer uncertain whether to trust him or not. But each incident feels like a set piece, like going from A to B, and a couple of these incidents look a little comical - especially the scene where Mr Seth wrestles with a deadly snake (Tarzan, eat your heart out!). And speaking of snakes, one of the film's posters features a woman wrestling with a giant snake, but the reality in the film is somewhat more tame compared to the poster. Yes, Susan Stephen does encounter a snake in a scene where it crawls over her while sleeping, but she makes short work of killing it (probably later turning it into a fashionable handbag). It's not the only time she encounters a snake in the film, but both times she is more than prepared to tackle it herself rather than wait for a man to rescue her. Indeed, she gets stuck into whatever Africa has to throw at her, and is as equally comfortable shooting Masai rebels as she is in dealing with deadly animals. The film deserves some credit for portraying independent women, and all of the women in the film are equally adept at looking after themselves - an interesting premise in 1954.
And speaking of snakes, Susan Stephen also encounters bad brother Paul (John Bentley), who forces his attentions onto her in one scene after preventing her from tackling a snake in a tree. Part of the film's selling point is a love triangle between Susan's character Ruth and the brothers Jim and Paul Dobson. But it's clear to see which one she will choose, even though there is very little spark between any of them. Robert Urquhart makes for a rather bland lead as Jim Dobson, while Susan herself doesn't offer much enthusiasm in her role of Ruth. That goes for much of the cast, who all go through the motions in a film that does much the same, with the notable exception being John Bentley as the far more interesting brother Paul. Considering that Bentley is better known for his hero roles as The Toff and Paul Temple, he is remarkably effective cast against type as the bad brother who has little qualms about seducing Ruth, stealing liquer from the wagons or even betraying the others in his bid to find the elephant graveyard. But even he cannot quite enliven this film. There is however one scene that will certainly generate interest and that is a midnight swim that Susan Stephen takes about an hour into the film. Although she is in her underwear, the result when she rises after being told that crocodiles are in the river is so see through that it leaves very little to the imagination! You don't expect to see that in a film from 1954 and even proved a selling point in one of the posters in a clinch with Robert Urquhart used to advertise the film. It is doubtless what American International Pictures saw when they bought up the film to sell as part of the sexploitation market, but apart from that scene there is very little else to get excited about in this film.
When not even Susan Stephen taking a revealing dip in the water can maintain interest in the film you know you are in trouble. Granted, it is a standard adventure film that does have moments of drama, and at least two of the settlers die on their way to Blood Mountain, just to show that the pioneers won't have it all their own way. But most of the cast perform as if they are half dead anyway, and if they can't really be enthused about appearing in this film then what hope does the audience have? For John Bentley fans, this offers an interesting performance against type. For Susan Stephen fans, there is that midnight dip. For everyone else, there is little else to recommend it. It's an average adventure yarn that makes the cardinal sin of being just too dull.
Treasure Hunt (1952)
You'll need to hunt hard for the treasure
This film seems to spilt opinion, though most of the reviews are not favourable. Is this a tedious museum piece or a neglected treasure? The truth is neither, but it is a watchable comedy with some amusing moments. The premise sees the grown up children of the rakish Sir Roderick Lyall gather at Ballyroden Hall for the reading of his will after his death at the age of 95. However, they are in for a shock as although the old rogue mentions them in his will, it turns out he has spent most of the money on wine and women (so not wasted then), and what little is left will be swallowed up by debts. Even that will not cover the debts, leading to nephew (and seemingly only sane relative) Phillip (Brian Worth) having to give them the horrifying truth - they will have to take in guests to make ends meet! What's worst is they will have to take in American guests, with the first guests due to arrive that week. While some accept this ploy, others within the family do not and decide to sabotage their stay there in order to drive them out - forgetting that doing so will almost certainly see the Lyall family home sold from under them.
That is much the plot, though there is a sub plot involving missing diamonds or jewels that may be hidden about the house, while there are a couple of romantic sidelines, including a love traingle between Brian Worth's Phillip, his sweet Irish cousin Mary O'Leary (Susan Stephen with an Irish accent which is surprisingly not bad) and American guest Yvonne Cleghorn-Thomas, who spots him out the window one night and decides to set her cap at him. The plot is indeed thin on the ground, but it has to be said the cast play it with spirit and there are a few notable performances among them. Not least Jimmy Edwards, playing duel roles as both Sir Roderick and his unlikely named son Hercules, who is full of bombast about the proposed guests, but easily weakens when Phillip decides to ban him from having biscuits for a week. He is certainly memorable, but he is far better as the boozing, womanizing Sir Roderick Lyall, who appears only for the first 5 minutes but it is a rich charismatic character, from riding off on the hunt to returning on a stretcher and expected death, only to revive when he notices the "pert new maid" (Marguerite Brennan). His death decades later is highlighted by his extensive wine cellar, which the butler William Burke (Toke Townley) goes down to after Roderick's death, only to discover one drink left, having drank the cellar dry (he must of had a cast iron stomach!). Another notable mention is Martita Hunt (Miss Haversham from Great Expectations) as the eccentric Aunt Anna Rose. She is a true eccentric in every sense of the word, often sitting in a old fashioned sedan carriage for her tea or just to go on imagined holidays. She is certain she has mislaid valuable jewels somewhere in the house and eventually becomes key in the plot as the family decide the only way to save themselves from the debtors is to do their very own treasure hunt in the house in a bid to find them.
It's hard really to fault many of the cast for their performances, as they put in the effort to try and enliven the film. Irene Handl deserves a mention for her all too brief stint as Sir Roderick's maid and children's nanny, sparring well with Jimmy Edwards, but only seen for the first 5 minutes. Naunton Wayne (of Charters & Caldicott fame) at times has a gentle rapport with both Hunt and Brigid the maid (Maire O'Neill) and is a thoroughly decent chap who just finds himself lumbered with an American woman in Mrs Cleghorn-Thomas (June Clyde) and her sexpot daughter Yvonne (Mara Lane) - the former less than happy to be in what she considers a mad house. She's not entirely wrong there, either, and you can't blame her for wanting to up sticks and leave. Mara Lane does sexiness well enough as she tries to snare Brian Worth's Phillip, but there's little doubt in which way his inclination will go in the love triangle between him, Yvonne and cousin Mary. And considering Mary is played by the sweet Susan Stephen, it's a foregone conclusion for me and both Susan and Worth work well together. She even does a decent Irish accent, and her youth and energy is needed for a film of such a eccentric nature. Sadly that doesn't really come into it until the climax, but nevertheless it's still a harmless and inoffensive comedy of the old school. It may be sparse in plot, but the cast do their best to enliven it as best they can and I've seen far worse in my time. It may be flimsy, it certainly isn't outstanding, but it's a simple story with it's heart in the right place. And I'm always willing to give any film with Susan Stephen a go, even if at times she made more duffers than jewels in her career. She has certainly done worse than this!
Danny the Dragon (1967)
Sweet Kids series with familiar faces
This children's TV series tells the story of three kids - Gavin, Peter and Jean - who decide to go camping in a field, partly due to Gavin's obsession with aliens. During the night Gavin hears a funny noise and a crash, but it isn't until the next morning that the kids notice that there is a burnt patch in the field. Gavin then bumps (literally) into a invisible object, which is most curious, but it isn't until they go back to their tents that they discover they have a mysterious visitor from outer space - a dragon called Danny, who is anything but brave! What follows is the children befriending the dragon and trying to hide him as he tries to get in touch with his fellow dragons in their spaceship and return to his home planet of Dragonama.
I have to say I loved this, just for it's sheer sweetness and pure escapism of children's shows of a different era. It won't win prizes for it's special effects - the dragon costume will raise a few chuckles - but it becomes all the more endearing for it because the heart of the story is so very innocent. As mentioned, Danny the Dragon is anything but brave, at times turning on the waterworks when he has injured himself or worried that he can't get home, and the special effects for the crying are marvellously simple as it is amusing. And he is voiced so wonderfully by Kenneth Connor, the Carry On star who did a fine turn in cowardly characters in his early years in that series. And he is not the only Carry On star, as he is joined by Peter Butterworth as the farmer who the children ask if they can camp in his field. I love the fact that at the beginning of the recaps for the later episodes the voiceover labels him as the "eccentric old farmer" - for that read psychotically deranged lunatic, as he is often firing off his shotgun, desperately looking for any aliens (or any passer by, it seems) to shoot, and Butterworth is great fun.
Indeed this series is populated by famous faces, including Frank Thornton (Are You Being Served?), Patrick Newell (Mother in The Avengers), Toke Townley (Emmerdale Farm), Bob Grant (On the Buses), Eleanor Summerfield, Carmel McSharry, Norman Mitchell and Damaris Hayman to name most of them. Patrick Newell and Frank Thornton feature heavily as the police constable who is suspicious of the children and what has happened in the woods, while Thornton plays his superior Sergeant who becomes increasingly frustrated and disbelieving of his shenanigans. Whilst Newell is a little too bumbling for my liking, Thornton hits all the right notes as his superior, and there are some amusingly memorable moments where he tears strips off him - not least one scene where Newell careers a speedboat into Thornton's prize garden and flattens him! Another memorable scene involves Danny the Dragon finding himself involved in a Fancy Dress Contest (hosted by a marvellous Eleanor Summerfield) and decides now he is on stage to launch into a impromptu singalong with all the kids joining in. To hear Connor as Danny roar "Come on kids!" midway through his song after being so wimpish in this series is particularly amusing, but a sneezing fit sets the place on fire and finally rumbles him to Thornton's sergeant.
But what is the most remarkable are the three child leads, as two are household names in pre-fame stars Jack Wild (Oliver!) and Sally Thomsett (The Railway Children, Man About the House). Indeed, it's incredible to think that Thomsett was actually 17 when she did this, as she looks all of about 12! Both are engaging leads who throw themselves into the realms of make believe, but the most surprising is Christopher Cooper as Peter - not least because this was the last acting job he had, despite a confident and sometimes amusing performance. For Jack Wild this was a time long before the drugs took over, and as such this is a hark back of more innocent times. It may be cheap looking compared to today's kids shows, but for me this is much more fun. It may not win prizes, but for me Danny the Dragon is a kids series I just love. I'd never seen it before, but I urge you to find it out. Show it to your kids - tether them down if need be - take the phone off the hook and just indulge in pure escapism and nostalgia - in this world, you might as well!
Father's Doing Fine (1952)
Enthusiastic but exhausting farce
This highly energetic farce sees a widowed mother trying to keep the bailiffs from the door while simulteonously holding her family together with their various lives. It's original stage play title was the perplexing Little Lambs Eat Ivy, but equally puzzling is it's film title of Father's Doing Fine. I suspect it is a ironic tilt at the permanently anxious Dougal (Richard Attenborough), who continues to await the birth of his wife's first baby throughout the film and is anything but fine! Meanwhile his bored wife Doreen (Diane Hart) lies in bed waiting for the birth to finally happen, and is so irritated by her husband's overbearing attitude that she can't bear him to be in the room for driving her mad. And quite frankly you can't blame her! At times the whole family can do this watching this comedy.
That is not the only incident that occupies the hectic life of the somewhat eccentric Lady Buckering (Heather Thatcher) and her family. As well as an aggitated son-in-law and pregnant daughter, she has three other daughters: Catherine (Virginia McKenna), Gerda (Mary Germaine) and Bicky (Susan Stephen). Each have their own problems, with Gerda in a unhappy marriage to a snobbish and pretentious writer (Brian Worth), while youngest daughter Bicky is a wannabe actress who lives her life in much the same dramatic and overexaggerated style as the plays she performs in, with daily fall outs with her boyfriend, the equally dopey Roly (Peter Hammond). Ironically in real life Susan Stephen was a good 2 years older than Mary Germaine, and only a month younger than Virginia McKenna! As for McKenna's character Catherine, she is unmarried but seemingly grounded, but unbeknownst to mother she has a secret that faces being revealed when a face from her past appears. That comes in the shape of a debt collector called Clifford Magill, who has come to inform the absent minded Lady Buckering that she is well behind in her rent. If they cannot find the money to pay off the debt then his father will be forced to ask them to leave.
And so is set the plot. However, such is the hectic nature of the film and it's characters that the threat of eviction easily gets lost amongst the mayhem. Indeed it seems more focused on the family's eccentricities than anything else, and at times the characters can be frustrating. Heather Thatcher's character is often so absent minded or distracted by her family's trevails that you can't blame Dr Drew (George Thorpe), a man secretly in love with her being annoyed with her at times. When he suggests in one scene to just leave her family to look after themselves you can't help but agree with him, and he has further stress in trying to calm down the constantly neurotic Dougall. And then there's the ever overly dramatic Bicky, literally throwing herself about at her boyfriend or with the fit of the vapers that at times you just want to shake her. Susan Stephen, despite her character's irritations, is hugely impressive in the way she throws herself about (literally in one scene where she quarrels with her hapless and bewildered boyfriend Roly), conveying the youthful exhuberance and neurosis of the teenager perfectly. She is well matched by Peter Hammond as Roly, while there's a nice spark also between her and Brian Worth as her sister's literary snob husband Wilfred - no surprise really as the two had only just finished filming Treasure Hunt together that year. The scene where he gets her drunk after she goes to his house after an argument with her boyfriend and her later return home tipsy is amusingly done, and leads to natural misunderstandings - or is it?
What you do have in this film is a fully committed cast throwing themselves into their parts and the farce with gusto, and you cannot but admire them for their energetic displays. However, for me it proved somewhat exhausting viewing, and you wished at times it just paused for breath. It does have it's moments with gentle scenes between Virginia McKenna and Jack Watling as Catherine and McGill, while Mary Germaine is affecting in one climatic scene with screen hubby Brian Worth as she faces up to whether her marriage is worth saving and whose conclusion I wasn't expecting. But it's main joys are of the minor performers, such as Noel Purcell as Shaughnessy, playing against type as a butler not to be trusted, while Sid James is always watchable, even if his scene as a taxi driver lasts little more than a couple of minutes. Their characters are grounded in reality, which is why I felt they were more effective than the energetic eccentricity of Heather Thatcher's Lady Buckering or Richard Attenbororugh's Dougall, despite both throwing themselves wholeheartedly into their roles.
Overall, it's not a bad film, but it is frantic and exhausting, and the characters are somewhat frustrating at times. It's hard to feel too much sympathy for a family that lives in wealth whilst spending beyond their means and expecting to continue doing so despite having no money to do so. But the stars deserve some praise for launching themselves into their parts, and I can never resist the cheeky charm of Susan Stephen, who is enthusiastic in her role. For the unprepared it is energetically performed, but also frenetic and noisy, and whether you enjoy the film by the end of it or not, I would advise you to lie down in a quiet room afterwards, just to be able to collect your senses again. It's that type of a film.