A Kind Of Loving (12A.)
Directed by John Schlesinger. 1962
Starring Alan Bates, June Ritchie, Thora Hird, Bert Palmer, Malcolm Patton, Gwen Nelson, Pat Keen, David Mahlowe, Jack Smethurst and James Bolam. Black and White. Released on Blu-ray/ DVD and EST by Studicanal as part of their Vintage Classics collection. 107 mins
Vic Brown, as portrayed by Alan Bates, has a lot more going for him than most of the northern protagonists in the black and white, working class, kitchen sink dramas of the 1960s: he has a happy home life and a decent job working as draftsman at a factory. Rather than being trapped by his environment, he looks to have a decent future ahead of him. But when he starts to pursue the pretty young typist Ingrid (Ritchie) he buying himself a one way ticket to Thora Hird.
This period of film making, the supposed British New Wave, where directors like Schlesinger and Karel Reisz and Lindsay Anderson and Jack Clayton turned their cameras away from the world of upper and middle class privilege and showed us the vibrant reality of working class life is one of the great landmarks of British cinema; but if we're being honest it's not necessarily something I felt like revisiting with anything stronger than a sense of duty. A Kind Of Loving is the quintessential Knocked Up narrative – the boy whose dreams of travel will be undone by an overeager sperm and there being a lady serving when he goes to the chemist to get some johnnies. These over familiar up the duff tales tend to be grim affairs of thwarted ambition and crushed hopes, but Schlesinger's first film has a lot more to offer than a dull tragic trajectory. It is something of a revelation, a marvellously warm and human drama, that looks as good today as it must've done back then, and with the added benefit of an historical perspective and a heap of nostalgia to make it all seem that bit richer.
What really impresses is how it transcends the grim-up-north cliches. It is very easy to photograph an ugly rows of back to back terraced housing, quite another to suggest the lives that live within. The movie is full of rather beautiful images of the industrial landscape. Thora Hird may be the quintessential mother-in-law from hell but everybody else is fully rounded, a balance between the good and the bad. The script, by Willis Hall and Keith Waterhouse and based on Stan Barstow's novel, is clearly told from Vic's point of view, but though it is sympathetic to him it does show that there is a streak of callousness in him. There's a darkness lurking beneath the surface throughout the film and just occasionally shafts of despair will pierce through the surface. Mostly though it is concerned with keeping its chin up; this is a film that prefers to see the good in people.
Extras.
Studiocanal have done a top notch job with this home release.
Terminus is a half hour piece Schlesinger made the year before, a day in the life of Waterloo station. Bits of it are clearly staged, some of the editing a bit contrived but overall it is absolute gem.
Stuart Maconie, the Radio 2 DJ and writer gets 20 minutes to expound on the films and, sat in front of some wooden panelling on an uncomfy looking chair, he does so wonderfully. I did groan a bit when he drags in The Smiths and Joy Division comparison but he is first class on the merits of the films and the way its influence has spread through British culture. Mistakenly I watched this straight after watching the film and before writing it up and frankly his review is much more insightful than anything I had to offer.
It's also more engaging than the thoughts of the two academics John Hill and Melanie Williams who sound off on it for ten minutes in their featurette, but they both provide good background information on the film.
There's also a twenty minute audio clip of Schlesinger in conversation with Alexander Walker at the NFT in 1988.
Directed by John Schlesinger. 1962
Starring Alan Bates, June Ritchie, Thora Hird, Bert Palmer, Malcolm Patton, Gwen Nelson, Pat Keen, David Mahlowe, Jack Smethurst and James Bolam. Black and White. Released on Blu-ray/ DVD and EST by Studicanal as part of their Vintage Classics collection. 107 mins
Vic Brown, as portrayed by Alan Bates, has a lot more going for him than most of the northern protagonists in the black and white, working class, kitchen sink dramas of the 1960s: he has a happy home life and a decent job working as draftsman at a factory. Rather than being trapped by his environment, he looks to have a decent future ahead of him. But when he starts to pursue the pretty young typist Ingrid (Ritchie) he buying himself a one way ticket to Thora Hird.
This period of film making, the supposed British New Wave, where directors like Schlesinger and Karel Reisz and Lindsay Anderson and Jack Clayton turned their cameras away from the world of upper and middle class privilege and showed us the vibrant reality of working class life is one of the great landmarks of British cinema; but if we're being honest it's not necessarily something I felt like revisiting with anything stronger than a sense of duty. A Kind Of Loving is the quintessential Knocked Up narrative – the boy whose dreams of travel will be undone by an overeager sperm and there being a lady serving when he goes to the chemist to get some johnnies. These over familiar up the duff tales tend to be grim affairs of thwarted ambition and crushed hopes, but Schlesinger's first film has a lot more to offer than a dull tragic trajectory. It is something of a revelation, a marvellously warm and human drama, that looks as good today as it must've done back then, and with the added benefit of an historical perspective and a heap of nostalgia to make it all seem that bit richer.
What really impresses is how it transcends the grim-up-north cliches. It is very easy to photograph an ugly rows of back to back terraced housing, quite another to suggest the lives that live within. The movie is full of rather beautiful images of the industrial landscape. Thora Hird may be the quintessential mother-in-law from hell but everybody else is fully rounded, a balance between the good and the bad. The script, by Willis Hall and Keith Waterhouse and based on Stan Barstow's novel, is clearly told from Vic's point of view, but though it is sympathetic to him it does show that there is a streak of callousness in him. There's a darkness lurking beneath the surface throughout the film and just occasionally shafts of despair will pierce through the surface. Mostly though it is concerned with keeping its chin up; this is a film that prefers to see the good in people.
Extras.
Studiocanal have done a top notch job with this home release.
Terminus is a half hour piece Schlesinger made the year before, a day in the life of Waterloo station. Bits of it are clearly staged, some of the editing a bit contrived but overall it is absolute gem.
Stuart Maconie, the Radio 2 DJ and writer gets 20 minutes to expound on the films and, sat in front of some wooden panelling on an uncomfy looking chair, he does so wonderfully. I did groan a bit when he drags in The Smiths and Joy Division comparison but he is first class on the merits of the films and the way its influence has spread through British culture. Mistakenly I watched this straight after watching the film and before writing it up and frankly his review is much more insightful than anything I had to offer.
It's also more engaging than the thoughts of the two academics John Hill and Melanie Williams who sound off on it for ten minutes in their featurette, but they both provide good background information on the film.
There's also a twenty minute audio clip of Schlesinger in conversation with Alexander Walker at the NFT in 1988.
