allan cuthbertson

Redcap – Nightwatch

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , , , ,

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Mann returns an AWOL soldier to a regiment who are back in the UK following a stint of active service. When Mann’s prisoner is struck in his absence, he’s determined to find the culprit. This leads onto a strange tale of ghosts and the regiment’s final, disastrous mission in Borneo ….

Making his television debut as Brown (the AWOL soldier) was Hywel Bennett. It’s a very eye-catching turn, although it couldn’t have been that easy to play (Brown’s handful of scenes see him in a highly hysterical state, still heavily traumatised by their Borneo mission).

Brian Wilde was cast against type as Graham, a sergeant busted down to private due to his drinking and insubordinate nature. It seems odd that Graham is imprisoned in a cell inside the barracks room – this means not only can he see his former charges, but he’s also able to chivvy them along when they start to fall into slack habits.  And that’s certainly the case – the platoon is in complete disarray, lacking any clear direction or authority.  Corporal Scowler (nice performance by Tim Preece) is completely ineffectual on this score.

Mann wonders why the platoon is still intact – given the Borneo misadventure and the aftermath it would have been logical for them to have been split up. But the CO (Joseph O’Conor) has a different view – he can see there’s poison amongst the men, but has decided that keeping them together will bring matters to a head.  For once, Mann comes across a CO who isn’t totally obstructive, although he certainly knows his own mind.  Allan Cuthbertson was born to play the role of Major Stokely – he a!ways looked perfect in a uniform and Stokely’s character – dogmatic and not too imaginative – was the sort of part that played to Cuthbertson’s strengths.

The platoon are all deftly sketched in, especially Molt (Griffith Davies) and Metcalfe (Graham Rouse). Somebody seems to be spreading stories that the ghosts of their dead comrades are haunting the barracks (good of the spooks to have hopped back on the plane from Borneo with them) and bizarre as this may seem, more and more of the soldiers are beginning to believe it.

Given the lingering PTSD some must be suffering that’s understandable, although this doesn’t explain why several new recruits, only recently signed on, are also spooked (refusing to patrol the parts of the camp which appear to be favoured by the ghost).  Nightwatch has, unsurprisingly, a night-time setting, which allows for plenty of shadows and the possibility that something might be out there.  Bill Bain’s direction is pretty workmanlike, although there’s the odd interesting flourish along the way.

John Thaw continues to smoulder away to good effect.  After Brown is struck, you know that Mann will be implacable in his mission to find the culprit.  He – unlike Scowler – has no fear in facing down a barrack room of insubordinate soldiers.  Mann’s brief shouting match with Graham is another highlight.

Not the best episode of the run so far, but it does have an unsettling air, especially the final scene which sees Mann confronting the cackling, unrepentant trouble-maker.

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Tommy Cooper’s Christmas – 25th December 1973

archivetvmusings Christmas Television , ,

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Tommy Cooper’s ability to keep the audience in hysterics whilst apparently doing very little is firmly in evidence at the start of this Christmas Special.  Maybe it’s simply because the audience can see tables laden with magic props and therefore know that almost anything could happen ….

The first fifteen minutes is typical freewheeling Cooper – a captive audience, a wide selection of props and an almost endless supply of gags (“my wife’s just had a facelift. But it’s not high enough, I can still see her”).  How scripted this part of the show was is open to debate – there’s certainly a few sharp edits which suggests that some flab was excised (the fact that Cooper dashes from one trick to the other, apparently at random, may not entirely be an act then).  There are a few successes (a vanishing watch for example) but the standard of illusions here never rises above trick shop fare – although he does have a nice line in dexterity.  But then nobody watches Tommy Cooper for skilful magic.

In order to pad things out to an hour, Cooper later takes part in various sketches.  These are often not quite as entertaining as his magical efforts, but two of the longer efforts – playing snooker with Allan Cuthbertson and cooking with a puppet duck – stand out.

Cuthbertson was a Cooper regular during this time.  He’s the perfect straight man – able (almost always) to keep his composure whilst Cooper causes anarchy.  The premise of the sketch (Cooper is a golfer, not a snooker player, and so attempts to clamber on the table to take his shot, etc) may be thin but the pair of them make it work.  One of the best moments is an unscripted one after Cuthbertson has a temporary dry and garbles the order of the colours.  His slight loss of composure is palpable, although after sharing a wry grin with Cooper he pulls himself together (it’s noticeable that Cooper didn’t attempt to make capital from Cutherberton’s stumble – easy to imagine some other comics wouldn’t have been so forgiving).  The arrival of snooker legend Joe Davis (attired, like Cooper, for the golf course) proves to be a nice moment to close the sketch on.

Clodagh Rodgers and Sacha Distel provide the music.  Both have their own solo spots before joining forces for a duet.  Rogers essays a Christmas medley whilst standing in front of a series of silvery Christmas trees (maybe there was a lack of baubles that year – the trees look very underdressed).  Distel plumps for the non-Christmassy Playground in My Mind.  He doesn’t have to contend with denuded Christmas trees – instead he’s surrounded by slightly menacing masks.

Although Tommy Cooper tended to work better in the half hour format (The Tommy Cooper Hour, although boasting some impressive guests – including Abba – across its run, did sometimes feel a bit padded out) this is a decent special.  Unusual to see Johnnie Mortimer and Brian Cooke on scripting duties, as they were much better known for sitcoms than sketches.

Roast duck anyone?
Tommy & Allan Cuthbertson
Clodagh Rodgers
Sacha Distel

Espionage – Covenant with Death

archivetvmusings ITV Drama - 1960's , , ,

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Covenant with Death opens in 1942, with two young men – Magnus Anderssen (Bradford Dillman) and Ivar Kolstrom (Don Borisenko) – leading an elderly couple through the woods.  Joseph and Sarah Blumfield (Arnold Marle and Lily Freud-Marle) show signs of flagging and stop for a rest.  Magnus and Ivar then both pick up rocks and it’s clear that they intend to kill the Blumfields.

The action then moves to a courtroom shortly after the end of WW2.  Magnus and Ivar are in the dock, accused of the Blumfields’ murder.  But why would two war heroes (they had been members of the Norwegian resistance) kill a defenceless couple?  The prosecutor (Allan Cuthbertson) is convinced of their guilt, whilst their defense attorney (David Kossoff) struggles to find a way to prove their innocence.  As might be expected, there’s more to this story that meets the eye …..

After the opening credits, a caption helpfully tells us the exact setting and time – Tonstrand, Norway, October 9th 1947.  You might wonder why so many Norwegian nationals (like Cuthbertson) speak perfect English, but that’s par for the course with a series shot in the UK.  It may be a little incongruous but it’s preferable to everybody attempting dodgy Norwegian accents.  And as touched on previously, the fact this was an American co-production necessitated that the two Norwegians in the dock, Magnus and Ivar, were played by an American and a Canadian respectively.

Allan Cuthbertson is his usual immaculate self as the prosecutor.  He seems to have a very solid case – both Magnus and Ivar confessed their guilt to the police and when Ivar was arrested he had Joseph’s gold pocket watch in his possession (he also admitted to the police that he took the watch from Joseph’s dead body).

A recess provides an opportunity for Ivar and Magnus’ attorney to speak to them.  He urges them to change their plea to guilty, but Magnus refuses – they may have killed the couple, but he tells him it wasn’t murder.  This intriguing statement drives the rest of the narrative as slowly the events of five years earlier are uncovered.

Several lengthy flashbacks help to stop the story from being a static courtroom tale.  The first flashback also helps to bring the character of Joseph Blumfield into sharp focus – his Jewish heritage meant that he was under increasing pressure from the Nazis, one of the reasons why he and his wife decided to flee.

Kossoff, like Cutherbertson, impresses, as he slowly teases out the story from the defendants.  Ivar tells the court what happened immediately after the deaths of Joseph and Sarah.  “After we did it, it was suddenly very quiet. Like we’d killed everything in the forest except ourselves. The old man bled a lot, for some reason the woman didn’t seem to, but we knew they were both dead.”  Don Borisenko is perfect as the twitchy Ivar, a man who lacks the certainty of his friend Magnus that they did the right thing.

Although Joseph and Sarah have been presented as harmless and helpless victims, Peter Stone’s screenplay constantly teases us that there must be more to the story than a simple tale of opportunistic murder and robbery.   It’s strongly hinted on several occasions that during wartime people have to do things which would be unthinkable during a time of peace.  If Magnus and Ivar felt that the security of their organisation was threatened by the old couple it would explain why they had to die.

Apart from Cuthbertson and Kossoff, other familiar faces pop up, most notably Alfred Burke and Aubrey Morris.  In the present day, Burke (as Ivar’s brother, Gustave), sports a natty eye patch, which is absent when the action flashes back to 1942.   Burke’s contribution is small but he was such a good actor that he could make even a handful of lines come alive.  His jousting with Cuthbertson is a special treat – Gustave angrily wonders why the court is attempting to prosecute two war heroes, which incenses the prosecutor.  “Many of the men in this room, and the women too, risked their lives in the struggle against the Nazi occupation. Some of us suffered just as much as you. Torture, imprisonment under death sentence, but we didn’t sink so low as to murder those we had pledged to protect, to save our own skins.”  It’s an electrifying scene.

Covenant with Death shows how moral absolutes are a luxury often denied during a time of war.  The scene of Joseph and Sarah in the moments before their deaths is very powerful – both know they will shortly die, both are afraid, but they’re also reconciled that it’s the only way.  But was it?  It’s is a question that remains right until the end and no doubt each viewer will have their own opinion as to whether Magnus and Ivar were guilty or innocent.

Although espionage doesn’t form any part of the story, this is a deeply thought-provoking tale that, even when the verdict is delivered, doesn’t seem to bring closure for the men in the dock.