Sergeant Cork – The Case of the Knotted Scarf

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , ,

knotted

Cork and Marriott venture into the countryside to investigate the murder of Lady Langford.  Her husband, General Sir Gerald Langford (Brewster Mason), is a distinguished old solider, whilst his late wife was much younger (and had previously been an actress).  After viewing where the body had been found the pair venture to Langford’s palatial house and begin to peel away the layers of this intriguing mystery.

Cork’s check suit (presumably it’s his country wear) is a sight to behold.  But whilst his appearance is a little distracting, Cork’s analytical skills remain just as sharp in the country as they are on the streets of London.  Sir Gerald is convinced that his wife was killed by a mysterious madman, but Cork is quick to contradict him – he believes that the murderer will be found much closer to home.  A little later Cork outlines his detective’s philosophy to Marriott. “You have to cultivate a mind that traps details like a spider’s web snares flies. And always work on the assumption that things are never quite what you think they’re going to be.”  Rather delightfully he breaks off from his monologue to wonder if he’s becoming pompous in his old age, telling Marriott that if so then Bob has his permission to boot him up the backside!

The General is wheelchair bound, so that seems to eliminate him, but he has a house-guest (the mysterious Jean-Pierre Ducane) who seems a likely suspect.  British-born Robert Arnold, playing Ducane, sports a very broad French accent.  British actors playing every nationality under the sun were very common during this era of television, but if you think he’s going rather over the top there’s a clever twist later on which explains why.

Brewster Mason is rather odd casting as Langford.  The General is presumably supposed to be in his sixties, but Mason was only in his early forties when this was made.  A fake beard and wig aren’t really enough to sell the illusion that this is an elderly man, especially when the camera favours him with close-ups that show his unlined face.

Director Anthony Kearey adds a few flourishes to the production.  A particularly memorable shot is that of Ducane, as seen though the barrel of Langford’s rifle.  Apart from a few brief scenes elsewhere, the bulk of the story takes place in Langford’s house (which is attractively decorated with mementos from the General’s time in India).

So this is effectively a country house murder mystery – and in time honoured fashion it concludes with Cork gathering all the members of the household together before revealing the murderer’s identity.  This was Jon Manchip White’s sole writing credit for Cork, which is a pity as The Case of the Knotted Scarf is a very decent murder-mystery with an unexpected ending.  Since there aren’t that many suspects it’s possible to have a stab at working out who the murderer is (although I have to confess that I didn’t get it right!).

 

Sergeant Cork – The Case of the Two Drowned Men

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , , , ,

drowned.jpg

Cork and Marriott are hunting two men who killed a bank messenger and made away with a thousand sovereigns.  A tip off leads them to the docks, where Sergeant Dempsey (Victor Brooks) has some news – he says that one of their suspects, Jack Simons, has been fished out of the river.  The ever-suspicious Cork isn’t too sure, since the man’s face was so disfigured as to make a physical identification impossible.  Dempsey responds that they found several papers in the dead man’s pockets which positively identified him as Simons.  The next day, the other man they were looking for, Steve Gurling, is also found dead in the river.  But Cork’s still not happy – why weren’t both men killed at the same time?

The mystery of whether Simons and Gurling are alive or dead isn’t one that’s played out for very long.  Within the opening ten minutes or so we see a boat tie up at the docks and two men get out.  They call each other Steve and Jack which makes it obvious that these are the two men Cork and Marriott are searching for.  It’s a pity this is so explicitly (and rather clumsily) explained straightaway, as it dissipates the mystery somewhat.

Steve Gurling was played by Tony Beckley.  Beckley tended to play rather fey characters, such as Freddie in The Italian Job, Rene Joinville in the Callan episode Suddenly – At Home and most memorably of all, the monomaniacal plant lover Harrison Chase in the Doctor Who serial The Seeds of Doom.  Since Gurling is a rough, tough, East End type it’s not really a part that plays to Beckley’s strengths, but he still makes a decent fist of it (even if his performance isn’t terribly subtle).  He’s not alone in this though, as some of the other inhabitants of the waterfront offer equally broad turns (the cackling crone especially).  But although there’s more than a touch of “gor blimey guvnor” about this episode, it still offers a decent portrait of the underbelly of Victorian London.

Cork views the area with extreme disfavour.  “Do you know what this place could do with, lad? A terrible thing to say, but it could do with another fire. Another Great Fire of London, burn out all these slums. They breed vice and they breed vermin.”  Marriott replies that it’s no use getting rid of the slums if you don’t get rid of the poverty that causes them – a point which the Sergeant agrees with.

Production design is impressive.  Without ever leaving the studio, designer Anthony Waller was able to create a convincing outdoors environment.  The Adam and Eve is a nicely designed waterfront dive (complete with parrot!) and there’s enough water to create the illusion that the docks are close by.  The use of sound effects (such as the constant hooting of tugboats) and a touch of smoke (to simulate the London fog) are also simple, but effective, ways of enhancing the atmosphere.

William Gaunt shows a flair for comedy as Marriott goes undercover at the Adam and Eve.  He’s disguised as a sailor with a fake beard and an even faker Irish accent, but only gets a black eye for his trouble.  Later he’s bashed about the head after he follows a suspect, to the despair of Cork who expresses his exasperation quite forcibly!

As I’ve said, this is pretty ripe stuff, but John Barrie continues to impress.

Sergeant Cork – The Case of the Girl Upstairs

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , , ,

girl upstairs.jpg

Returning to his rooms following a long train journey, Cork is looking forward to a quiet evening and a bite of steak and kidney pudding.  So he’s less than impressed to find Marriott waiting with a Miss Beesley (Margaret Diamond) who has a matter she wishes to discuss urgently.

She’s convinced that her niece Jane (Meg Ritchie) is being poisoned by her stepmother Charity (Mary Kenton).  Following her brother’s death Miss Beesley has been barred from the house, but she recently caught a brief glimpse of Jane and was shocked by her appearance.  Jane is attended by a doctor, Ernst Lukas (Joseph Fürst), but Miss Beesley has a very low opinion of him.

After an opening scene of Jane suffering under Charity’s ministrations (she’s forced to sleep in a room with the windows open and a single blanket) we get a brief glimpse of Cork’s home-life.  Cork has comfortable rooms and an indulgent landlady who ensures that he has hot meals. It’s clearly a pleasant enough existence but it’s an early indication that there’s no significant other in his life.

Cork seems initially unimpressed by Miss Beesley’s suspicions, which she counters by asking if he is “always governed by fact in everything you do? Are you never swayed by instincts, by feelings?” He responds that he often acts on his instinct and agrees to investigate.

It’s clear from the start that Charity Beesley is waging psychological warfare on her step-daughter, but it’s not clear why.  Mary Kenton is chilling as Charity, whilst Meg Ritchie is convincingly overwrought as the unfortunate Jane.  Joseph Fürst (complete with monocle) gives an understated performance as Dr Lukas.  For me, it’s impossible not to associate Fürst with his gloriously over the top performance as Zaroff in the Doctor Who story The Underwater Menace, but that seems to have been something of an aberration.  Apart from Zaroff, he tended to play sinister characters who were much more grounded in reality (for example, his two Callan appearances).

Lukas is revealed to be brilliant, but also unorthodox and unbalanced.  For him, Jane is nothing more than an experimental subject.  He has no desire to kill her – that would invalidate the experiment – but also has no compunction in pushing her to the edge of madness.

It’s a bleak ending – Cork, Marriott and Arthur Lowman (Philip Latham sporting a rather obvious false beard – not the last time we’ll see fake face fungus in this series) rescue the girl, but Lowman is pessimistic about whether she’ll ever come to her senses.  So whilst the guilty will be punished it seems that the innocent are fated to suffer as well.

The Case of the Girl Upstairs is quite slowly paced but it’s still a satisfying story, thanks to a brief, but memorable, guest turn by Joseph Fürst.

Sergeant Cork – The Case of the Reluctant Widow

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , ,

widow

Sergeant Cork is an excellent example of just how good a mid sixties studio-bound VT series can be.  Running for a total of sixty six episodes, it was made on something of a production treadmill – the first production block of forty episodes ran from April 1963 to September 1964.  Following a break, there was a second production block of twenty six episodes which were recorded between March 1965 and March 1966.

This meant that an episode would have to have been designed, rehearsed and recorded every two weeks.  Given the relentless nature of the production process it’s remarkable that the quality of the series remained as high as it did.  There are, naturally enough, some lesser episodes over the run, but the general quality remained very high.

A major part of its success has to be down to the two main regulars, Cork (John Barrie) and Bob Marriott (William Gaunt).  Barrie is always incredibly watchable and manages to highlight many facets of Cork’s character over the duration of the series.  Cork is a crusader and an innovator, with a highly developed sense of justice.  Bob is initially a bewildered intruder into Cork’s world, but quickly develops an a wry sense of humour and becomes a perfect foil for the unpredictable sergeant.

Sergeant Cork is set in the late Victorian era, at the time when science was beginning to make a breakthrough in the detection of crime.  In some ways Cork isn’t too dissimilar from Sherlock Holmes – since he also was keen to find scientific ways to fight crime.  And they also both live for their work (there’s no Mrs Cork, for example)

Bob has decided on a career in the police force.  It’s interesting that he can just turn up for an interview with Superintendent Nelson (John Richmond) and find himself working as a detective the same day.  But Nelson does explain that recruiting people into the detective branch has been difficult.  “Some people, you see, regard the CID as an experiment, some regard it as a failure and very few regard it as important.”  He decides to assign Bob to Sergeant Cork.

Our first sight of Cork sees him using his long-suffering general factotum Chalky White (Freddie Fowler) as a guinea pig (Cork is testing various methods of taking fingerprints).  He mentions to Bob that the Americans have been using fingerprint identification for several years and the possibilities of introducing such a system in Britain clearly both intrigues and stimulates him.

With an air of absent-minded enthusiasm, Cork’s character is quickly defined – he’s somebody who is quick to embrace any scientific advance in the fight against crime. But since Superintendent Nelson has already told Bob that the CID is not highly regarded, it’s plain that Cork (due to his unorthodox methods) will face a struggle to convince others that he’s not simply a crank.

In these early scenes, Bob finds himself bewildered by Cork’s tangential enthusiasm and it takes a little while before he’s able to find his bearings and settle in.  To begin with he’s not even sure what case they’re supposed to be investigating – until Cork eventually explains.

After Mr Oxley dies in his bed, the question has to be, was it suicide or murder?  Suspicion falls on his beautiful young widow Julie Oxley (Jean Trend).  But Dr Cato (Peter Halliday) reports to the inquest that he found traces of chloroform in Oxley’s stomach and from this declares that the man took his own life.  For the local police this seems to close the case, but Cork is far from convinced and he’s quite forthright (in a manner that will be become very familiar) in making this clear to Superintendent Bradnock (Gerald Case).  Cork is no respecter of seniority and isn’t at all cowed by Bradnock’s initial hostility.

John Barrie hits the ground running.  His questioning of Mr Oxley’s mother Kate (Hilda Barry) is a classic scene.  Although Cork gives the impression of being an affable sort, his cross-examination shows that he can also be ruthless.  Whilst Mrs Oxley professes a deep love for her son (and also makes it clear that she believes he was murdered by his wife) Cork is relentless in exposing the fact that she held her son in contempt.

Suspicion falls on Clive Graham (Christopher Guinee) after he’s spotted throwing a bottle of chloroform away.  Graham runs the cafe owned by Mr and Mrs Oxley and certainly seems to be on intimate terms with Mrs Oxley.  But Mrs Oxley appears to be heavily implicated as well – despite her tearful protestations of innocence to Cork.

Jean Trend (a familiar face from the likes of Emergency Ward 10 and Doomwatch) gives a good performance as Julie Oxley.  Mrs Oxley’s histrionics are impressive, but they cut no ice with the suspicious Cork.  Another actor who’s instantly recognisable is Peter Halliday as Dr Cato.  Halliday didn’t often use a Welsh accent (despite being Welsh-born) so The Case of the Reluctant Widow is something of a rarity.

With a final surprising revelation, this is a very decent opening episode.  It’s a pity that the existing telerecording (like most of the series one episodes) is rather hacked about (the adcaps have been very clumsily edited out) but that’s only a minor niggle.

The Nightmare Man – Episode Four

archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's , , , , , ,

nightmare 04

The military arrive in force as Colonel Howard prepares to lead them in a expedition to recover a valuable piece of hardware.  Howard is remarkably blase as he informs Inskip that he’s invoked martial law and is therefore now in complete control of the island.

As the soldiers make their landing, Michael is still musing over the identity of the killer and the reason why he’s being hunted by the army.  “They lost contact with that craft and it ran aground here. Probably a power failure. Because what got out of it was no longer a man. Radioactive. Its mind in splinters.”

Douglas Camfield had been a Lieutenant in the West Yorkshire regiment, but due to health issues he was forced to leave in 1956.  His love of the military never left him though and can clearly be seen in some of his best directorial efforts.

The Web of Fear, The Invasion and Terror of the Zygons were three classic Camfield-directed Doctor Who‘s which all had a strong military angle.  And in some ways the last episode of The Nightmare Man resembles Zygons – the incongruous juxtaposition of the army and a small Scottish village, for example.

The revelation of the killer’s identity seems to be one of the main reasons why The Nightmare Man is viewed as a disappointment.  After three episodes of teasing the audience with various possibilities, the somewhat prosaic reality can’t help but feel like a letdown.  Especially as when we see him in the cold light of day he’s not a terrifying sight – although that may have been intentional (let’s be generous and give the production the benefit of the doubt).

Another slight disappointment is the way that Inskip fades away once Howard takes control.  But the fact that Howard isn’t all he appears to be is a decent twist, although the audience should have twigged this early on (after he tells Michael and Fiona that he has a great admiration for their police).

Positives. Maurice Roëves as Inskip and James Cosmo as his laconic sidekick Sergeant Carch. The slowly increasing sense of dread and fear as the attacks continue.

Negatives. Not every question is answered – for example we’re never told why the killer became cannibalistic or how he had super-human strength.  And if the killer looks rather unimpressive in the cold light of day, then that goes double for his craft. We’re expected to believe that it could travel thousands of miles in the water?  Sadly it looks like the filmiest, most unconvincing prop ever.

There’s no doubt that the dream-team combination of Holmes and Camfield would have been enough to interest many Doctor Who fans, but The Nightmare Man doesn’t really show either at their best.  The script is workmanlike (not having read the original novel I can’t say whether Holmes added many of his own touches).  His trademark humour isn’t really in evidence, although Carch gets some decent lines.  Camfield seems to perk up when the army arrive, but otherwise there’s few of the flourishes and innovative camera-angles for which he was known.

But whilst The Nightmare Man ends with a whimper rather than a bang, it still has its moments.   Not a classic, but there are worse ways to spend a few hours.

The Nightmare Man – Episode Three

archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's , , , , , ,

nightmare 03

The Nightmare Man was Jeff Stewart’s first television role.  A few years later he was cast as Reg Hollis in The Bill and would remain with the series for an impressive twenty four years.  It’s strange to hear him speak with a Scottish accent, although since he was born in Aberdeen I assume it’s his natural one (he’s not tended to play many Scots during his career).

Stewart plays Drummond, one of three coastguards who all work in a very isolated spot.  There’s a clear vibe that they’re going to be the next victims, although it’s surprising how it takes before the unseen attacker strikes again.

This isn’t a bad thing though, as it means that Camfield’s able to gently rack up the tension as the episode progresses.  The policeman guarding the mysterious craft hears a noise (but it only turns out to be Dr Goudry), the coastguards detect something outside which triggers their radiation meter (but it slips away quickly), etc.  These little moments help to create a faint sense of unease – we know that there will be another murder, we don’t know when.  Although if you’d said just before the end of the episode, in order to create a nice cliffhanger, you wouldn’t be far off the mark!

Colonel Howard continues to move about the island, offering his help to the police (which is declined) and generally acting in a somewhat smug manner.  So it comes as no surprise when he receives a coded phone-call which confirms he’s deeply implicated in this mysterious business .

CALLER: Mother asked me to call.
HOWARD: Mother knows best. How is her chicken?
CALLER: Still free-range, I’m afraid.
HOWARD: Then forget the chicken. I’ve arranged for the egg collection. Can you close the coop?

Top marks to Jonathan Newth for keeping a straight face during that exchange of dialogue.

It seems probable that they’re both part of a military operation (who else would use so many convoluted code-words?) but we’ll have to wait until episode four to find out.

Fiona has developed the film from Dr Symond’s camera.  It was running at the time he was attacked and offers several snapshots of the killer.  Luckily, he was also recording his thoughts onto tape at the same time – so Fiona and Michael are able to organise a macabre film show for Inspector Inskip, Sgt Carch and Dr Goudry.  It’s a disturbing scene, as though we see very little (the pictures are quite blurred) the sounds the killer makes are enough to create a whole host of disturbing mental images.  There’s only one more episode to go before we find out if the reality will measure up.

With just a couple of minutes left, it must be time for another murder.  We cross back to the coastguard station, where one of Drummond’s colleagues elects to go outside by himself.  Has the man never watched any horror moves?!  It’s clear that he’s going to meet a very nasty end – which he does – and Drummond’s other colleague quickly succumbs to the implacable killer as well.

This leaves Drummond as the last man standing and so the episode ends on a close-up of Jeff Stewart’s face.  It’s quite a responsibility to carry a cliffhanger, therefore let’s be generous and remember that this was his first television job.  He does his best to pull a shocked face, but it doesn’t really convince.  Although his colleagues have both been killed he doesn’t really project a sense of dread or terror – more a sort of mild perplexity.  It’s slightly surprising that Douglas Camfield didn’t elect to try another take, but even allowing for Stewart’s lack of emotion it’s a jolting ending.

The Nightmare Man – Episode Two

archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's , , , , , ,

nightmare 02

James Warwick was pretty ubiquitous on British television during the early 1980’s. By the time The Nightmare Man was broadcast he’d already appeared in several one-off Agatha Christie adaptations (Why Didn’t They Ask Evans?/The Seven Dials Mystery) and a few years later would star alongside Francesca Annis in Partners In Crime, also adapted from Christie’s books.  His earnest, square-jawed persona fitted the works of Agatha Christie like a glove and he plays Michael Gaffikin in a similar way.  His performance isn’t quite as good a match here though – at times it feels rather artificial (although it’s not as bad as his very wooden turn the following year in the Doctor Who story Earthshock).

The mysterious creature spends the early part of the episode lurking about (and killing the odd sheep).  Michael surmises that it could be the result of genetic experimentation whilst Inskip wonders why the woman killed in episode one (identified as Mrs Anderson) was dismembered and then taken miles away from spot where she was murdered.

Picture quality for the exteriors is pretty poor – due to the heavy mist (it does help to give the location work an unearthly atmosphere though).  But it’s difficult not to wonder just how more impressive it would have looked on film.

Because the police-force on the island is so small (limited to four of five officers) it’s reasonable that Inskip would ask for Michael and Fiona’s help.  Michael, having originally wondered if the creature came from the sea, now has another theory – that it’s extraterrestrial in origin.  Roëves continues to have many of the best lines as Inskip counters that “a straightforward homicidal maniac with bad teeth running amok is good enough for me.”

But when they find Dr Symonds’ body, Inskip is forced to admit that nothing human could have been responsible. Although it’s hard to see why, as Symonds’ body is intact (unlike the mutilated Mrs Anderson) with only a minimal amount of blood.  No doubt this is due to what was deemed permissible in a pre-watershed programme (a violently attacked body clearly wouldn’t have been). Camfield could have elected to play the scene just on the reactions of Inskip and the others, but since we’ve previously met Symonds, his death has more of an impact if we can see his face.

If the cliffhanger is a little of a damp squib, it does at least up the ante a little more.  Another death and still the mysteries deepen.  There’s a mysterious craft on the shoreline, traces of radiation and the possibility that somebody parachuted onto the island the previous night.  And it seems that the charming Colonel Howard is more than just an innocent visitor ….

The Nightmare Man – Episode One

archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1980's , , , , , ,

nightmare 01

The Nightmare Man was adapted by Robert Holmes (from the novel by David Wiltshire) and directed by Douglas Camfield.  Since Holmes and Camfield were both experienced Doctor Who hands it’s tempting to view this as almost a Doctor Who story by proxy.  Holmes had a love of classic horror tales, so there’s no doubt that Wiltshire’s story of a series of mysterious deaths on a remote Scottish island would have right up his street.  Whilst there’s little blood or gore it does feel a touch more adult than his Doctor Who‘s, something which probably would have appealed to Holmes (he was always a writer who pushed against the boundaries – as Mary Whitehouse would attest to).

It’s slightly surprising that it’s shot on VT rather than film, especially since Camfield was a master with a film camera.  Presumably this was budget-related, as there’s only a handful of video effects.

Within the first few minutes we’ve met the main players.  Fiona Patterson (Ceila Imrie, sporting an impressive Scottish accent) runs the local shop whilst Michael Gaffikin (James Warwick) is an English dentist, in love with both the island and Fiona. Both run into a visitor, Colonel Howard (Jonathan Newth), who tells them that he’s planning to spend a few days exploring, whilst we also bump into Inspector Inskipp (Maurice Roëves).

But whilst all this seems normal enough, there’s something on the island which is far from normal.  This strange entity is shot from their POV and instantly creates an unsettling atmosphere.  When Michael finds a body on the golf course it appears the mysterious creature has claimed its first victim.  Inskipp is matter of fact about this grisly discovery.  “Aye, I do mean a body. We haven’t found all the pieces yet.”  During the episode we’re drip-fed more facts about the murder and nothing we hear sounds very comforting.  The body wasn’t dismembered with a knife – it was literally torn apart.

Camfield always cast his shows incredibly well and The Nightmare Man is no exception.  Maurice Roëves makes an immediate impression as Inskipp and does something with what could be a cliche role – the tough copper.  Although Camfield had a reputation for using a “rep” of actors it’s not really in evidence here, although Tony Sibbald (playing Dr Symonds) had appeared in his 1975 Doctor Who story Terror of the Zygons.

This does everything that an opening episode should.  It sets up the mystery efficiently and finishes on a strong cliff-hanger (Dr Symonds attacked by the mysterious creature).  Will the serial keep this quality up or will it end in an anti-climax?  Time will tell.

An Englishman’s Castle – Part Three

archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1970's , , , , ,

castle 03

Henry is dead – he was shot three times and a sign saying “delator” was hung around his neck.  With one of Peter’s sons now dead there’s a sense that his real life is turning into a soap opera.  One example of this is when Peter’s wife is told of her son’s death.  She tells her husband that she won’t cry – instead she’ll behave as bravely as Peter’s fictional family.

Peter finds himself the prime suspect for Henry’s murder and is taken away by the special police for questioning.  The Inspector (Philip Bond) is initially affable, telling Peter it’s nothing more than an informal chat, but the mood darkens very quickly.  Kenneth More and Philip Bond share an excellent two-handed scene – like the rest of the serial it’s incredibly powerful, but very understated.

The Inspector occupies a room that’s virtually bare, and there’s never even the threat of violence, but he’s still able to inexorably pressurise Peter.  So Peter is forced to reveal that Henry told Harmer he was an informer – which gets Peter off the hook but spells trouble for Harmer.

As events get darker and darker, Kenneth More remains the solid centre of the story.  Now promoted to programme controller, Peter has the ultimate responsibility for initiating the revolution – a code-word inserted into the next episode of his soap opera will be the call to arms.

Philip Mackie’s three scripts are taut, with little or no padding.  It’s easy to imagine that the serial could have been developed into a series, as in one way we’ve only begun to scratch the surface of this world.  It would have been fascinating to see Peter’s soap-opera, which at times offers a meta-textual commentary on real-world events, expanded over more episodes.

Anybody looking for big-budget action scenes will be disappointed.  The revolution does begin in the last few minutes of this episode, but it happens off-screen (via sound effects).  The fates of some characters, including Peter, are clear at the end – but with others it’s left to the viewer’s own imagination to decide what may have happened to them.  It’s also notable that certain people’s motivations are very much open to interpretation – Harmer is a prime example.  In the first two episodes he was portrayed firmly as a man in sympathy with the German establishment, but in the final episode we’re asked to consider him in a different light.  Nothing is ever proven either way, so we’re not spoon-fed “facts” – the viewer is invited to weigh up the evidence and decide.

It’s a downbeat ending, but there’s also a possible glimmer of hope.  We’re left not knowing whether the revolution will succeed or fail, but whatever happens we’ve seen characters who have been personally redeemed, Peter amongst them.

At times this feels like a stage play (not a criticism, by the way).  People die off-screen, for example,  and other events are described but not seen.  Some may find this frustrating, but this style of storytelling ensures that the focus remains inexorably on the characters,  which is a major plus point when the cast is so strong.

This is first-rate drama and comes highly recommended.  Heading a very strong cast are Kenneth More, Isla Blair and Anthony Bate, all of whom dominate the screen.  Simply Media should be applauded for continuing to dip into the BBC archives and for anybody who enjoys classic British television, An Englishman’s Castle should be on your to-watch list.

An Englishman’s Castle – Part Two

archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1970's , , , , ,

castle 02

Part two opens with another excellent two-handed scene between Kenneth More and Anthony Bate.  Peter has come to tell Harmer whether he’s decided to change the name of Rosenthal to something less Jewish-sounding.  Harmer pretends to have completely forgotten about this request, but we’ve seen enough of him to know that he forgets nothing.  To Harmer’s undisguised annoyance, Peter is insistent that the name must remain and when pressed for a reason he states that he wants to send a message of hope and friendship to the Jews watching.

Harmer is incredulous and tells him that there aren’t any Jews watching the programme.  Those that are alive are in places where there aren’t any television sets.  With a series like An Englishman’s Castle, which is completely dialogue driven, it’s throwaway moments like this which help to paint a fuller picture of their alternative world.  In part one it was mentioned that there were still labour camps for some Jews (although most had already perished in the gas chambers) so the number who still exist in Britain must be small.  We know of at least one, Jill, so it could be that there are others.

Although Peter doesn’t back down, Harmer gets many of the most telling lines, especially when Peter tells him that he simply wants to show the public that the Jews are like them.  But, as Harmer responds, they aren’t.  “We are wealthy and comfortable and alive.”

In part one it was mentioned that Peter’s soap opera is drawn directly from his own wartime memories.  This theme is now developed further as one of the two sons – Frank – is set to be killed off.  The actor playing Frank is highly dismayed when he receives the latest script and learns that he perishes at the hands of the Germans.  In a scene that no doubt has echos with many real-life soap operas, when the actor realises that he’s not coming back next week his mood quickly darkens.  He protests that he’s been with the series since the beginning and is one of the most popular characters, but all to no avail.

Peter explains that the two sons in the show – Frank and Bert – are both based on him.  Frank is his romantic side and Bert is his realistic side.  When the Germans invaded in 1940, Peter’s romantic side died, so Frank has to die as well.  Since then Peter’s lived as a realist, as he’s seen no other way, but events are now changing.

Peter has two sons in the real world as well.  Henry (David Meyer) works on the show with Peter whilst Mark (Nigel Havers) despises his father and everything he stands for.  Mark appeared briefly in part one, where he denounced his father’s politics vigorously, and in part two he’s arrested by the police on suspicion of being a terrorist.  Havers performance isn’t particularly subtle (Mark’s manic radicalism seems rather overblown) but there may be a reason for this (he’s a radical, but not a member of the true underground resistance).

When Peter returns home, he finds Mark in the custody of the polite, but clearly ddangerous, Inspector (Philip Bond).  It’s probably the fact that he’s so very reasonable which is the most unsettling thing about Bond’s Inspector.  He’s not brutal or brusque, Bond gives the Inspector a casual air as if he’s just taking Mark away for a few simple questions.  The reality – as even Peter knows – is quite different.  Mark will be tortured and die, unless Peter can pull some strings.

The only man who has the influence to save Peter is Harmer, and this leads us to another absorbing scene with More and Bate.  Harmer is enjoying a candlelit dinner with his social secretary Anja (Suzanne Roquette) but once he learns of Mark’s plight he’s keen to help.  He rushes off to the phone, leaving Peter to talk to Anja – the only problem is that Anja only speaks German and Peter knows only a few words (surprisingly so, you’d have assumed everybody would have learnt the language by now).

Harmer tells the police that he doesn’t care whether Mark’s innocent or guilty, he just wants him released – which he is.  It’s another fascinating part of the story – both for the way that a television executive like Harmer is able to intercede in police matters and also for the casual confirmation that the evidence planted on Mark was faked.

Peter had come to Harmer ready to offer a quid pro quo – if Harmer can get Mark released then he’ll agree to change Rosenthal’s name to something less provocative.  It’s interesting that Harmer only learns of Peter’s decision after he’s made the call, but as ever with Harmer, he wasn’t acting out of friendship (he’s well aware just how important Peter’s programme is to the government and he’ll do anything he can to ensure his star writer is kept happy).

Peter later muses with Jill about whether Harmer orchestrated the whole thing – arranged to have Mark arrested in order to force him to back down over Rosenthal’s name.  It’s an intriguing thought – which turns out not to be true – but somebody is manipulating Peter.

It turns out to be Jill, who’s a member of the underground movement dedicated to the overthrow of the government.  She’s dismissive of the actions of people like Mark, who it’s implied are simply playing at being resistance fighters.  They throw a few bombs around and hit the headlines, but the real struggle is done deep underground – by people like her.

Peter’s realisation that Jill only became his mistress in order to recruit him is nicely played by More.  He agrees to join, but it’s not clear why.  Is it because he agrees with the aims of the organisation or is it just out of his love for her?  One thing that concerns him is her insistence that anyone who is suspected of being a delator (informer) has to be killed.  Peter might have fought in the war, but that was a long time ago.

We end this episode, as we began, with a two-handed scene between More and Bate set in Harmer’s office.  It’s another few moments which zing with tension as Harmer tells Peter that his son Henry has been promoted to director.  This is good news, but the ominous way in which Harmer goes to say just how loyal Henry is to the state indicates trouble ahead.  It was Henry who informed on his brother and this leaves Peter with some impossible decisions to make.

 

An Englishman’s Castle – Part One

archivetvmusings BBC Drama - 1970's , , , , ,

castle 01-01

The 1970’s were a fertile time for British television dramas which portrayed the country toiling under totalitarian dictatorships.  Apart from An Englishman’s Castle, broadcast in 1978, there was also The Guardians (LWT 1971) and 1990 (BBC 1977).  It’s probably not too hard to understand the reason why – strikes, power cuts, the three-day week, inflation running at 30% and a humiliating bail-out by the IMF had all conspired to dent the nation’s pride.

In some ways, the 1970’s was the decade of paranoia.  Rumours of impending right-wing coups and mutterings that MI5 were planning to oust Harold Wilson and his government abounded.  So it’s no surprise to find several television dramas had tapped into this mood to produce nightmarish visions about what might happen.

But whilst The Guardians was set in the aftermath of a coup and 1990 was set a decade or so in the future, An Englishman’s Castle takes a different tack.  In this serial, the Germans won WW2 and Britain has been a subjugated nation ever since.  Coincidentally, Len Deighton’s novel SS-GB had the same basic premise of a Nazi-subjugated Britain and was published a few months after An Englishman’s Castle was broadcast.

Casting Kenneth More in the central role was a conscious statement of intent.  More had built a career playing a certain type of Englishman (exemplified by classic war films such as Reach for the Sky).  Following the gradual decline of the British film industry More moved into television (The Forsythe Saga, Father Brown) but he still tended to play upright, decent characters.  Peter Ingram also seems to be a decent man – but as the serial opens we see that he’s totally reconciled to living under German rule.  Is he simply being rational or has he been living a lie all these years?  That’s one thing that we’ll discover over the following three episodes.

An Englishman’s Castle is the name of Peter Ingram’s popular soap opera.  Set in 1940, just prior to the German invasion, it’s the story of an everyday British family.  Not only is it a success in Britain, it’s also sold all over Europe (or as Ingram says, “all over German Europe”).  Programme controller Harmer (Anthony Bate) is intrigued as to how Ingram will present the invasion.  Ingram tells him that “I can’t rewrite history. I mean, the Germans invaded us, and we got beaten.”  Harmer’s response strikes the first discordant note. “I look back on it now as a victory. A victory for common sense, and decency, and humanity. The triumph of peace-loving people everywhere.”

Jill (Isla Blair) plays Sally in the show.  She’s young, beautiful and Peter desperately wants to take her to bed.  Jill’s also interested in Peter, but has a mocking and questioning nature which indicates that nothing’s going to happen straightaway.  To begin with, she’s more interested in finding out about the young Peter and what happened to him in 1940.

JILL: Were you in the resistance?
PETER: Yes, of course.
JILL: And then?
PETER: And then there was Black Friday, the day that Churchill was killed.
JILL: And then?
PETER: A lot of us were killed.
JILL: One way or another.
PETER: The survivors took to the hills, and lived like ancient Britons. Had a bad time of it. Then they proclaimed a general amnesty. And I suppose we were getting older and more peace loving and we wanted to see our wives again, our girlfriends … so we came down from the hills and handed over our weapons, or at least most of us did.
JILL: You?
PETER: I couldn’t see that we would ever win.
JILL: No .
PETER: What was the point of it all? What was the use?

It’s notable that we never see any Germans and there’s no outward signs that Britain is an occupied country. All the dialogue strongly indicates that following the invasion, the British were left to govern themselves (but with the ultimate decision-making taking place in Germany). Peter has come to accept this as normal – they might be a subjugated race, but when the authorities are British it’s easy to forget this (or at least push it to the back of your mind).

When the restaurant that Peter and Jill are eating in is attacked by resistance terrorists, Jill is convinced that the terrorists will be taken away and tortured.  Peter doesn’t believe that the British police would do such a thing (“they have a long tradition of not doing things like that”).  “Had a long tradition” counters Jill.  This clearly indicates that they think in totally different ways.  It’s partly an age thing (Peter is much older) but there are other reasons why Jill is much more suspicious, as we’ll discover later.

The scenes we see of Peter’s soap opera are particularly instructive.  He hasn’t been told to write propaganda, but that’s what he seems to have done anyway.  Jill later puts this point to him very clearly.  Although it’s set in 1940, it reflects contemporary attitudes and seems to have been designed (either consciously or unconsciously) to keep the masses docile.  “What they’re saying is now. Be sensible, make peace. We don’t want to die. Nobody does. Survival, that’s all that matters. In every programme you have this keynote speech, your message for now, and your viewers think ‘he’s right, you know’, telling us we’re right. We’re right to go on as we are. Not making any fuss, obeying orders. Just content to work hard, fall in love, have children, give them a good start in life, and retire on a pension when we’re old. Eh lad, it’s not a bad life under the Germans, is it?”

It should go without saying that More is excellent here, but he’s matched step-for-step by Blair.  Another top-notch performance comes from Anthony Bate as Harmer, who is insistent that he doesn’t want to censor Peter’s script, just edit it.  Bate is at his most chilling when Harmer tells Peter that it’s impossible for him to introduce a character called Rosenthal.  The Jewish problem (courtesy of the gas chambers) was dealt with a long time ago, but there’s no way that a sympathetic Jewish character could appear on British television.

This is not a request from the Germans – Harmer is simply anticipating their concerns.  He dangles the possibility that by aggravating them over such a trivial matter they run the risk of inviting German interference in every aspect of their broadcasts.  Is this another example of the subjugated British being more rabid than the Germans would be?  In the first sign of stubbornness from Peter, he refuses to change the name straightaway and asks if he can sleep on it.  Harmer doesn’t spell out what will happen if he doesn’t, but then he doesn’t need to – by now it should be pretty clear.

When Jill reveals that she’s Jewish, Peter’s squabble with Harmer pales into insignificance.  If it’s discovered that she’s Jewish and that Peter’s slept with her then under the racial purity laws they’ll both face death.  An excellent hook to end part one with.

castle 01-02

Gideon’s Way – Fall High, Fall Hard

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , , ,

fall

Tony Erickson (Donald Houston) and Charles Randle (Victor Maddern) are co-owners of a building company who are facing a potentially damaging court case.  Randle has fought his way up from nothing and has no qualms about using every underhand trick in the book to achieve his ends.  His street-fighting ways are confirmed by Thompson (Gordon Gostelow), one of Randle’s more unsavoury contacts.  “You’re very thin-skinned these days, Charlie boy. A proper little social climber. Underneath that fancy suit you’re still an East End slum kid, like me.”

On Randle’s instructions, Thompson bribes Smith (Michael Robbins) to perjure himself on oath and thanks to his testimony the case is decided in Erickson/Randle’s favour.  When Erickson learns of Randle’s corrupt practices he’s appalled, but what can he do?

Donald Houston was never the most subtle of actors and this is demonstrated very clearly in Fall High, Fall Hard.  When he learns that Smith (and others) have been paid off, he reacts like a bull in a china shop.  He rushes into Randle’s office and proceeds to give him a good battering and then storms out to get very drunk.  His drunk acting is hardly a model of restraint either – although the moment when he returns to his palatial home and crashes into his teenage son’s birthday party (to the boy’s disgust and his friends’ amusement) is a memorable one.

Whilst Houston’s unrestrained hysterics are a little distracting there’s plenty of compensation elsewhere.  Victor Maddern is, thankfully, much calmer as Randle – he’s someone who views corruption as nothing more than normal business practice.  Gordon Gostelow (along with a young Mike Pratt as Jenson) are a menacing double-act who successfully bribe Smith with both money and threats (water from a boiling kettle is poured over his hand to reinforce the point that he’d be well advised to take the money and keep quiet).  And Michael Robbins, as Smith, is perfectly cast as a little man easily manipulated.

Making his second appearance as Det. Sgt. Carmichael is Donald Houston’s younger brother Glyn.  Unlike Donald, Glyn never felt the need to soar way over the top and gives a characterically subtle performance.

This was Malcolm Hulke’s sole contribution to the series.  Hulke’s later Doctor Who scripts were notable for their political messages, so it’s interesting to ponder whether he added any subtexts to his Gideon script.  Although he was adapting an existing Creasy story, it seems likely that the concept of corrupt big-businesses would have been something that the left-leaning Hulke would have been very much in sympathy with.

Donald Houston’s overplaying does detract from the effectiveness of the story a little, but it’s still a decent tale of corruption and murder.

Gideon’s Way – The Nightlifers

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , , ,

nightlifers

Peter Sloane (Anton Rodgers) is the leader of a group of rich and bored young people who turn to crime in order to relieve their ennui.  Sloane becomes addicted to random acts of violence, but whilst he appears to have no conscience, others like Tim Coles (Derek Fowlds), aren’t so cold-blooded.  And as they begin to squabble amongst themselves, Gideon and the others start to close in ….

Whilst it’s true that the first sight we have of Sloane is likely to elicit more of a smile than terror (due to his Beatle wig and dark glasses) his instability is quickly demonstrated after he and Sue Young (Annette Andre) rob a greasy spoon cafe.  The owners are a friendly-looking couple in their fifties, which gives Sloane’s attack on them even more of an impact.

It’s no surprise that we don’t see the blows delivered to the woman, but director John Llewellyn Moxey still ensures the scene carries a punch by cutting away to Sue’s face.  She watches Sloane’s attack with a degree of amusement, which also serves as shorthand to indicate she’s on a similar wavelength to him.

The subsequent scene, as Sloane and Sue make their getaway in a car with Coles and Tony King (James Hunter), sets up the character dynamics between the four very clearly.  Coles finds Sloane’s violence both repugnant and unnecessary, whilst King says nothing.

Later, Sloane explains his philosophy to them.  “This nation is soft, flabby. A mass of gutless wonders led by a handful of little grey people in power. The only time Britain accomplishes anything is when we’re at war. War brings out the best in people, they develop virility of spirit.”

When Keen looks in on the crime scene on his way home (with, naturally, a beautiful young woman in tow) he reacts with a degree of bitter humour after Det. Insp. Caldwell (Roddy McMillan) suggests that the attack could be the work of teenagers, doing it for kicks.   If it is, then Keen indicates that even if they’re caught they’ll face no particular punishment.

Caldwell agrees as he ironically tells Keen to “remember, teenage crime is an environmental problem.”  It’s a rare example of cynicism in the series, since it suggests that sometimes crime does pay.

Anton Rodgers might have been pushing it a bit by attempting to play a young tearaway (he was in his early thirties at the time) but although he’s a tad long in the tooth Rodgers is still very compelling.  Sloane’s arrogance and unswerving belief in his own invulnerability are captured well by Rodgers and this makes his eventual downfall even more satisfying.

Derek Fowlds has a good role as Coles, the only member of the gang with a conscience, whilst James Hunter (star of an excellent episode of Out of the Unknown – Thirteen to Centaurus) has less to do but still has a few key scenes, especially when Sloane suggests they rob King’s aunt and uncle.

The generation gap (“kids these days” mutters Gideon) is debated.  Gideon regards the youth of today with a jaundiced eye, whilst his wife Kate is more forgiving as she sees many parallels with her own youth.  “In our day it was fast sports cars, parties on the river, Duke Ellington, chianti out of those wicker-basketed bottles.”

When Gideon counters that nowadays kids go around beating people up she responds that only a few do, but it’s not enough to convince him.  “Kate, they’re violent, restless. Sometimes I think they’re even half crazy.”

The long arm of coincidence sees Keen’s latest girlfriend Elspeth McRae (Jean Marsh) invited by Sue to the next party aboard Sloane’s houseboat (both are models).  When Keen learns about it he also goes along, as by now the police have an interest in Sloane.  Keen and Elspeth share a similar discussion about young people as George and Kate Gideon did  – and with similar results, Keen is pessimistic whilst Elspeth is optimistic.

Gideon’s Way was never a social-realism series, so the theme of youth crime (violence, drink, drugs) does end up being handled a little uneasily.  But whilst no-one could mistake this for an episode of an 1970’s crime drama like The Sweeney or Target, it does possess an undeniable period charm, helped by the first-rate guest cast.  And thanks to the likes of Rodgers and Fowlds this is one of the strongest episodes out of the twenty six made.

Gideon’s Way – The Housekeeper

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , ,

housekeeper

When electrician Ralph Maricut (Harry Fowler) pops over to Mr Henderson’s house to do some work he gets the shock of his life – he finds Henderson’s dead body in the bath.  The news seems to hit Henderson’s housekeeper Martha Smallwood (Kay Walsh) hard, but as we’ll see, appearances can be deceptive.

At first it seems like a simple heart attack, but a few unexplained bruises are enough for Det. Supt. Warr (John Dearth) to investigate further.  The police take an interest in Maricut, especially when they learn he’s got form for breaking and entering.  But it’s the perfect housekeeper Mrs Smallwood who’s the villain of the piece.   Aided by a number of disguises and aliases she preys on vulnerable older men – and now she’s disposed of Henderson she’s got her hooks into Percy Whitehead (Oliver Johnson).  He’s blind and lives by himself, so he appears to be ripe for the picking ……

Kay Walsh had been a notable face of British cinema, thanks to appearances in a series of classic pictures.  She starred in three films directed by David Lean (Walsh married Lean in 1940, they divorced in 1947).  The pick of these was probably Oliver Twist in which she played Nancy.  Later key credits include Stage Fright (1950, directed by Alfred Hitchcock) and Tunes of Glory (1960, directed by Ronald Neame).

She’s excellent as the housekeeper who makes a habit of killing off her charges.  Mrs Smallwood’s relationship with Whitehead is central to the episode – he trusts her completely, although the audience is privy to the numerous evil thoughts that flit across her face.  And the final few moments (when she reveals her true colours) are riveting – and a fine showcase for her.

Apart from Walsh’s villainous turn, there’s plenty to enjoy in this one.  We see the police identikit officer in action and although it’s a primitive way of doing things it does work very effectively.  There’s also the lovely moment when lothario David Keen passes on a sliver of his knowledge and experience concerning women to Gideon’s son Matthew.  His advice?  Play hard to get.  Matthew takes his advice, but needless to say doesn’t quite get the result he expected!

Harry Fowler, like Walsh, had enjoyed some substantial British film credits (including Ealing classics like Went the Day Well? and Hue and Cry).  Although Maricut was completely innocent, since he had a record it was obvious that the police would give him the once over.  Whilst Keen’s questioning wasn’t at all combative, at the end of the episode (when Gideon learns that Maricut has returned to breaking and entering) he does stop to wonder whether they were partly to blame for driving him back to crime.  A rare moment of introspection for Gideon.

It’s also nice to see John Dearth, albeit in a fairly small role.  He would later play a memorable villain in the Doctor Who story Planet of the Spiders and earlier in his career had been a hard-working utility player on the Richard Greene series The Adventures of Robin Hood.  Dearth appeared in numerous episodes, playing a different character each time, although occasionally he’d go one better and play two different characters in the same episode!

Gideon’s Way – Big Fish, Little Fish

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , ,

big fish.jpg

Mark “Frisky” Lee (Peter Maxwell) is a notorious fence who arrogantly believes he’s above the law. But he’s long been on the radar of Supt. Bill Hemmingway (Wensley Pithey) and Frisky also comes to Gideon’s attention thanks to a young pick-pocket called Peter Wray (Alan Baulch).  Peter lifts a woman’s purse from the local market and then makes a run for it – straight into the path of Gideon’s car. The boy’s not hurt, but he drops the purse and runs off.  Gideon asks Hemmingway to find the boy, as he could just be the lever they need to bring Frisky’s empire crashing down.

Big Fish, Little Fish has a memorable few opening minutes, as we follow young Peter in his frantic flight from the market.  For extra realism, director Cyril Frankel chose to shoot on a genuine market day and this certainly makes the boy’s escape much more impressive, as he struggles through dozens of (presumably) ordinary members of the public.

It’s hard not to feel sorry for Peter, especially after you’ve met his hard-faced mother (played by Carmel McSharry).  Mrs Wray has been training Peter to become an expert pick-pocket and she has her own special form of punishment whenever she’s upset with him (locking him in a windowless cupboard under the stairs).

There’s a very unexpected twist fifteen minutes in, when Frisky Lee is found murdered.  Based on what we’d seen so far it looked likely the story would proceed in a similar way to The White Rat (Gideon and the police versus an arrogant criminal).

Maxwell Shaw is gloriously demented as Frisky and it’s a pity that he exits from the story so quickly.  But there’s plenty of other good actors also guest-starring in this one.  Sydney Tafler plays Frisky’s lawyer Gabriel Lyon and Harry Towb is Tod Cowan.  Tod is a local fence and therefore is a link in the chain to Frisky’s operation.

There was something rather familiar about the actress playing Mrs Clark, but it didn’t click straight away.  She was played by Angela Baddeley, best known for her turn as the autocratic cook Mrs Bridges in Upstairs Downstairs.  During her time on UpDown she was heavily padded (giving her a much more rotund figure).  Here she doesn’t have the padding, which is why I didn’t recognise her at first.

Prime suspect in Frisky’s murder is “Happy” Roden (Jack MacGowran).  MacGowran had an eclectic career, to say the least.  He was acclaimed for his stage-work, especially the plays of Samuel Beckett, but also built up an impressive list of film and television credits – ranging from Doctor Zhivago to The Champions (so he was equally at home in heavyweight and escapist drama).

Big Fish, Little Fish, which largely takes place in and around the markets on Petticoat Lane, has a rather grimy feel.  But although there’s a “kitchen sink” tone, it doesn’t offer any particular insights into why juvenile crime is thriving or what can be done to combat it.  There’s a very clear contrast between Gideon’s contented home-life (with his wife and three children) and Peter’s wretched existence with his mother, although this goes unspoken.

Peter’s ultimate fate is never touched upon, although it seems likely he’ll be taken into care as his mother looks set for a jail term.  Therefore there’s no happy ending for the boy and the possibility must be that he’ll simply grow up to be even more of a criminal than he is now.  But whilst it’s a disturbing thought, it’s also a realistic one, and is preferable to offering a false or sugar-coated ending.

Gideon’s Way- The Big Fix

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , , ,

fix

Jimmy Watson (Griffith Davies) is a stable lad who’s been bribed to ensure one of his horses doesn’t win the big race.  But security was too tight for Watson to get to the horse and he goes on to win easily.  Later, Watson is beaten up in revenge and dies of his injuries.  Asked to investigate the continuing doping problem by the chief security officer of the Jockey Club, Bill Campbell (Robert Brown), Gideon counters that he’s more interested in Watson’s murder.  But as Campbell says, if they solve the doping mystery then the identity of the murderer should also be revealed.  So Gideon agrees to look into it.

Gideon’s rather proactive, as he sets off immediately for a meeting with the wonderfully named Bookie Thompson (Max Bacon).  Bookie is able to info-dump a great deal of information very quickly (how horses are drugged, etc) which is very useful for the plot, but Bacon’s comic timing gives the scene a little extra depth.

Following Watson’s death, the gang need another inside man, so they select Jo Short (Michael Ripper) who works for the prestigious stables run by Colonel Alec Middleton (Maurice Hedley).  Jo has worked for Middleton for twenty years and seems totally incorruptible, but it soon becomes clear that he’s heavily and debt and so reluctantly agrees to dope Port Arthur, a well-backed favourite in a forthcoming race.

Ripper, a very dependable film and television face (well known for appearing in a score of Hammer films), is perfect as the conflicted Jo.  When we see his homelife – a young child, an unruly teenage daughter and a tearaway teenage son who’s been fined fifty pounds for criminal damage – it’s obvious that he’s under great strain and is therefore ripe for the picking.  Apart from the general day-to-day problem of feeding his family, there’s the more pressing issue of his son’s pending fine.  So he agrees to dope the horse, although it’s clear from the misery on his face that it’s far from an easy decision.  But once he’s in, he finds it impossible to get out, as the gang then ask him to dope another one –  if he doesn’t, they tell him that his daughter will never look the same again.

This is a dream assignment for Keen.  Gideon suggests he goes undercover at Middleton’s stables and the first thing he does when he arrives is to passionately kiss Middleton’s gorgeous daughter Janet (Penelope Horner).  Keen insists this is because they’re being observed by Jo, and he wants to keep the pretence up that he’s nothing more than an interested visitor, but you know that he would have done it sooner or later!  He also seems quite comfortable when he and Janet stake out the next horse to be doped, as they lie together snugly in the hay.

The seedy world of the on-track bookmakers is captured quite well, although cutting between the film shot specially for the episode and stock footage of real race days never quite convinces.  And there does seem to be slightly more of a studio-bound feel to this one, for example there’s no filming in the streets of London.  We do see several establishing shots, but it’s only stock footage used to set the scene for studio locations.

Gideon’s plan is to fool the gang into thinking they’ve doped another favourite, when the real horse is actually somewhere else and well protected.  This works well, but neither Gideon or Keen seem to have realised that the gang will then decide to extract retribution from the hapless (and innocent) Jo.  The police do turn up, just about in the nick of time, although not before Jo’s been kicked unconscious.  This also enables them to make some arrests, but you’d have assumed that Gideon would have ensured that Jo would have been under strict surveillance the whole time.  Although I guess that the last minute dash to save his life has a dramatic feel to it.

Michael Ripper is always worth watching, Penelope Horner is very easy on the eye and it’s also nice to see Robert Brown (later to become a regular in the James Bond films) in a small role.  This isn’t the best the series can offer, but it’s amiable enough.

 

Gideon’s Way – The Lady-Killer

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , ,

lady-killer

The Lady-Killer opens with an off-duty policeman finding a woman’s body washed up on the beach.  Our first sight of the woman’s husband Roger Clayton (Ray Barrett) is at her inquest.  Although he doesn’t speak a word, it seems obvious that he’s a wrong ‘un – Clayton remains unemotional throughout, except after the verdict of misadventure is given.  Then we see Barrett raise his eyes, look into the camera and give the ghost of a smile.

His feigned surprise at learning that his wife was a wealthy woman and then his palpable disappointment when he realises he’s only been left a few thousand pounds is a clear indication her death was no accident.  And when Keen’s latest girlfriend Ria (Justine Lord) introduces Clayton (although he’s now’s changed his name to Robert Carne) to the lonely and wealthy Marion Grove (Rosemary Leach) he wastes no time in sweeping her off her feet and he asks her to marry him.  She gladly accepts.

There’s a slight logical loophole in this story.  Ria invites the man she knows as Robert Carne to a party where he meets and romances Marion.  But since he’s only recently started using this new alias it’s strange that Ria greets him with a certain amount of familiarity – as they must be new acquaintances.

It’s easy to see that Carne’s downfall comes from his decision to use an alias.  If he hadn’t, there would have been nothing suspicious to pique Keen’s interest.  So if he’d told Marion that his previous wife had died in a tragic accident that would have made him untouchable.

But he now faces two problems – Keen is perturbed by Carne’s change of identity and decides to reinvestigate the drowning, plus Carne is also targeted by Bert Macey (John Tate).  Macey was a witness at the inquest and threatens to tell Marion the truth unless he’s handsomely paid off.  In desperation Carne throws a rock at the departing Macey, which knocks him out (and apparently kills him).  This is a little difficult to believe – partly because the rock was quite small and not thrown very hard, but also because it hit Macey on his shoulder (had it been a violent blow to the head it would have been more credible).

The two main plot-threads – Carne’s plan to murder his latest wife and Keen’s increasing suspicions – run parallel for most of the story.  It’s not until well into the final third of the episode that Keen starts to actively investigate and at the same time it becomes clear that Carne is planning to imminently strike.  It does stretch credibility that he doesn’t wait a little longer before murdering again (he’s only been married for a week or so!).  And the way he decides to kill Marion – leaving her drugged in their cottage with a fuse-box rigged to explode – also necessitates him having to speak out loud to explain what’s happening (which feels a little clumsy).

A number of coincidences have to come into play to enable Keen to rescue Marion.  But after she is found safe and well, Carne folds like a pack of cards and attempts to make a run for it.  Luckily Sergeant Fowler (Howard Lang) is on hand – firstly to grab him and then to knock him out!  Keen looks on approvingly at this example of the strong arm of the law.

Although the plotting is a little suspect, Ray Barrett is in fine form as the eponymous lady-killer.  Barrett would become a familiar voice-artist on various Gerry Anderson productions during the 1960’s (Stingray, Thunderbirds) and had, earlier in 1964, played a memorable villain in the Doctor Who story The Rescue.  Although Rosemary Leach might as well have had “victim” tattooed on her forehead, she was still able to make Marion something more than the cardboard character she could have been.  And it’s always a pleasure to see Justine Lord (who graced various cult 1960’s series like Out of the Unknown, The Saint, Man in a Suitcase and The Prisoner) although given David Keen’s ever-roving eye, it’s probably no surprise that this was her only Gideon’s Way appearance.

Gideon’s Way – The Firebug

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , ,

firebug

Tom Bishop (George Cole) is a man with a secret.  Outwardly he appears to be just another normal member of society, but he’s responsible for starting a number of fires in abandoned buildings.  After his wife and daughter were killed in a recent fire, Bishop has found himself driven to become an arsonist – in this way he hopes to demonstrate just how deadly and dangerous fire can be.  But events take a tragic turn when his latest arson attack kills fours squatters and badly injures a police officer.  But after the initial shock of learning of the fatalities, Bishop only becomes more and more obsessed to carry on  ….

Before finding his niche as Arthur Daley, George Cole seemed to spend a lot of his time playing flawed characters – people who seemed to be normal on the surface but were disturbed or homicidal underneath.  Other examples include the UFO episode Flight Path and Return of the Saint‘s The Armageddon Alternative.  Bishop fits into this pattern perfectly – his landlady regards him as a nice, quiet man but there’s clearly something slightly off-kilter about him.

The way he clutches his daughter’s doll (and the fact that it shows obvious fire damage) is a sign that something’s not quite right.  It’s the only tangible thing he has of hers – which makes it precious – but it’s also an indicator that he remains tied to the past and unable to proceed with his life.  In this way he’s not too dissimilar from Max Fischer (The State Visit) although Bishop is a much darker character.  Max had murder on his mind, but he didn’t carry it out: whereas Bishop finds himself caught in a spiral of destruction.  Although he never intended to kill anybody at first – he only set fires in buildings that he thought were empty – once his arson addiction has taken hold he finds it impossible to stop.  Whilst his shock at discovering the latest fire killed four people is evident, he’s quickly able to rationalise what’s happened and decides the innocent will have to continue to die, as only in that way will action be taken by the authorities.

George Cole is excellent throughout the episode, especially during the scene where he tells his landlady how his family died.  “There was all these people in the street. I didn’t realise at first it was my house, then I saw the fire engine. It was all over by then, the fire was out. The fireman were very nice, very kind. We looked, looked all through the ashes. All we ever found was Carrie’s doll.”

There’s obviously a sombre tone to this one, but there are a few touches of levity – centring around Gideon’s second in command, David Keen.  His eye for the ladies, something of a running gag throughout the series, is mentioned yet again and there’s also a nice comic moment when Gideon insists he finds a bike in order to examine the area of the latest fire in more detail.  He commanders one from a child (who rather reluctantly gives it up) and later makes his report to Gideon, who then looks askance at the fact he’s standing in his office still wearing bicycle clips!

Gideon decides that Bishop has to be the guilty party, since his house was the first to be destroyed in the recent wave of fires.  The audience knows that he’s right of course, but this is rather thin evidence – not that it stops the police plastering Bishop’s photograph on the front cover of the newspapers (“have you seen this man?”).  Just as well they had the right man then.

It’s slightly hard to accept that Bishop’s character devolves so quickly that by the end of the episode he’s driving around London on a scooter, lobbing sticks of dynamite about.  But the chase around the streets does give us the chance to yet again marvel about how few cars were about.  Truly it was a different age.

 

Gideon’s Way – The State Visit

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , ,

state visit

Max Fischer (Alfie Bass) reacts angrily to the news that the President of West Germany is due to make a visit to London.  It may be nearly twenty years since the end of WW2 but Fischer, a Jewish survivor of the Nazi concentration camps, finds it impossible to forgive or forget.  Fischer works in a laboratory where he has access to explosives and he slowly begins to plan a way to gain revenge for all his years of hurt ….

Although The State Visit was set twenty years after the Second World War, this was still recent enough to make it a fertile area for drama.  Whilst it’s made clear very early on that the German President is personally blameless (Fischer’s wife tells him that the man was a staunch anti-Nazi) this cuts no ice with Max.  He retorts that nowadays every German claims they didn’t support Hitler, but if that were true where did the millions who joined the Nazi party come from?  Max’s view taps into real life opinions – for many, especially those who had fought, it was impossible not to regard any German as an ex-Nazi by default.  A decade later, the Fawlty Towers episode The Germans would make this very point.

Max is initially presented as a sympathetic man and we’re asked to emphasise with his suffering.  But it becomes clear that he’s also blinkered, obsessed  and incapable of adjusting to modern life.  It’s a tricky character to play, so casting Alfie Bass would no doubt have helped to engage the audience’s affections.  Already a very familiar face on both the big and small screens by the mid sixties, Bass is able to give Max a certain dignity.  And since Bass was forced to flee his native Russia with his parents when he was a child, it could be that he was able to tap some of his own memories when approaching the part.

Gideon’s been assigned to handle the security for the visit, much to the chagrin of Deputy Commissioner Rae Cox (Gerald Harper).  Cox’s youth and inexperience are the reasons why he isn’t placed in overall charge and although Gideon does his best to pour oil on troubled waters by involving him every step of the way, there’s a clear lingering resentment on Cox’s part.  His character is made plain very early on: after receiving the unwelcome news from Gideon, he returns home to berate his wife.  All of his actions – such as chastising her for not replacing the soda siphon – show him to be a man keen to find fault in others but incapable of taking criticism himself.

Max plans to explode a bomb made of nitro glycerine during the President’s parade.  His wife Sarah (Catherine Lacey) reacts in horror, such a bomb will kill dozens of people but by now Max seems to be incapable of rational thought.  His increasing detachment from reality is shown as he rides on the bus, clutching the bomb in a vacuum flask.  He begins to hear the voices of his Nazi persecutors in his head and answers them aloud, to the bemusement of his fellow passengers.

It’s no surprise that it’s Gideon himself who talks Max down.  “You’ve got it wrong Max, you’ve got it terribly wrong. You don’t want to kill all these women and children do you, Max? Because that’s what you’ll do if you throw that thing. What harm have these people done to you, Max? You throw that bomb you’ll be as bad as any Nazi.”

If the ending is predicable, then at least it’s another good showcase for John Gregson.  And apart from a few dodgy projection shots, The State Visit is decent enough fare, helped by a number of familiar faces popping up in small roles.  David Lodge and Julian Holloway appear as Max’s colleagues and Desmond Llewelyn has an uncredited role as a senior police officer.  Interestingly, he plays it with a broad Welsh accent, which is how Terence Young initially wanted Llewelyn to play Q in the second James Bond film.  But after the reluctant Llewelyn did so, Young agreed that Q would sound much better as an Englishman!