Rediscovered film gem: Dulcima (1971)

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dulcima

Network DVD have just released the 1971 film of H E Bates’ novella Dulcima (a story from a collection of three called The Nature of Love). It’s a well-deserved and long-awaited release for a film which has had something of a cult status.

It’s an undiscovered gem for several reasons. The cast is excellent: John Mills, who I would guess was fresh from his Oscar-winning performance in Ryan’s Daughter, and Carol White, the acclaimed actress from Ken Loach’s Cathy Come Home and Poor Cow.

It’s also an incredibly beautiful snapshot of an unselfconscious rural Gloucestershire in the early seventies – not the contrived ‘chocolate box’ prettiness of today. The photography revels in the height of full summer down dusty tracks, and the dream-lives of the trapped.

dulcima001The story is H E Bates at his best: natural and earthy, sensitive to a rural reality, fatalistic as Hardy (creating a working-class version of Bathsheba Everdene in the process).

Dulcima Gaskain is a down-trodden ‘daughter at home’, the drudge for a family of ten, who sees a way out keeping house for Mr Parker, a ramshackle widower. Her bank balance creeps up and she begins to access the world she has glimpsed in her magazines, a sunlit, soft-focus world of hairspray, eyelashes and Terence Stamp look-alikes from knitting patterns. (Carol White and Stuart Wilson are indeed the Terry and Julie of the meadows, reminiscent too of 90s Britpop, like a less simian Liam Gallagher teamed with Sarah Cracknell.) The score is by the composer who worked on The Railway Children, and soars and shimmers like the lemonade light through the trees.

Of course, when her dreams are in reach, Dulcima’s gentle wiles can’t support their consequences.

There was a documentary about Carol White some years ago called The Battersea Bardot, and there’s always a tinge of melancholy to her performances. It’s ironic that a fair few blonde, beautiful actresses of the time strived to escape the sexist crap of the era and be judged for their ability alone, whereas Carol White was given unglamorous roles at which she excelled and for which she was respected, but longed to be the typical film star. There’s something great in the fact that she begins Dulcima in a typecast role, scrubbing floors, but emerges later with all the trappings of a Julie Christie romantic lead. So much further potential never realised: not long after her career floundered, and she died young at 48 in Florida.

Network DVD have done a wonderful job producing a great, clean print of the film, which won an award for director Frank Nesbitt at the Berlin Film Festival in 1971.

earned director Frank Nesbitt a Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival in 1971 – See more at: http://networkonair.com/shop/1977-dulcima.html#sthash.wowH2nAN.dpuf
earned director Frank Nesbitt a Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival in 1971 – See more at: http://networkonair.com/shop/1977-dulcima.html#sthash.wowH2nAN.dpuf
albertferret

There’s also a fantastic cameo role by ‘a polecat with a bit of ferret in him’ (right, Stuart Wilson on left). Uncredited – where was the actor’s union back then?

 

 

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Le Chien (1962)

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Today Whistles in the Wind is pleased to offer a ‘guest editor’ spot. I’m handing over now. Here she is…

Guest editor

Although I’m tempted to Instagram the half loaf of multigrain bread I ‘lifted’ off the breadboard yesterday, and thus brag of my sophisticated lifestyle options, I’ve chosen instead to share a clip from one of my favourite films in the history of French cinema: Le Chien (1962), directed by François Chalais, and starring European superstars Rex, Elke Sommer and Alain Delon.

We join our hero after a long tussle with affairs of the heart. In this stunning denouement he has left Paris behind and sped off in his voiture, racing through the French countryside – will it be too late?

At this moment tails pause mid-wag, heads tilt and time is suspended as we wait for the only right and true outcome. Makes the end of Breakfast at Tiffany’s look like some tawdry afternoon made-for-TV schmaltzfest – and that had cats…

Off to Ambrosia with Billy Liar

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Billy Liar 2
Tom Courtenay as Billy Liar (1963)

Is Billy Liar really 50 years old? It’s one of the key sixties films catching Britain at a time of transition, mirrored by Billy’s dreams of escape from small town doldrums to something more ‘swinging’. In the early 1990s there was a wonderful BBC weekly retrospective of the era, with all the key films beautifully introduced and the icons interviewed.

Julie Christie and Tom Courtenay

Julie Christie and Tom Courtenay, 1964

Back then you could still wander London and feel the spirit/myth of the locations (there was a kind of indie ’90s is 60s upside down’ thing at the time). The ephemera had lived on in 1980s youth with The Smiths and their legendary sleeve artwork and videos; I remember my oldest brother bringing home the records which introduced Terence Stamp, Rita Tushingham, Pat Phoenix, Yootha Joyce, Alain Delon, Viv Nicolson, The Family Way – a long line of the spirits of an age.

The Smiths Covers

I was wondering to someone about the unselfconscious types who in my childhood bicycled everywhere in wing-framed glasses and tweed overcoats with faces ‘washed bright with carbolic soap’ (a phrase I got from my grandma). Where did they go? It seemed every second of their lives was spent doing quiet practical things. They didn’t need excitement. I thought it was punk that changed things. I was corrected – of course it was the sixties (I was too young to remember: a moment to cherish).

And now in the 21st century it seems people want these culturally marginalised types back, or at least to know they are there in the background, unfazed by the digital age. We even have lots of cake-making, village fete TV. The Sex Pistols’ ‘God Save the Queen’ has backfired and in Brand Britain for tourists today it has no hint of irony, just as John Lydon now advertises butter.

This clip from Billy Liar is pure perfection in articulating a yearning for ‘something more’. It’s about the stuff that fuels the best bands, and a particular type of indie pop where edited if not imaginary worlds are held fleetingly in bubbles. Here too is Julie Christie in one of her earliest roles, and probably quite revolutionary in not being squashed into a perfectly made-up fifties ideal. The Yorkshire (Bradford) setting is familiar from my own family and I defy anyone not to want to be on that 12.05 train in 1963.

Elsewhere on WordPress I found this essay The Romance of Grime which celebrates and pinpoints the spirit of the British kitchen sink drama and is well worth a read.