The 1955 film 'Touch and Go' starring Jack Hawkins is a real period piece. It concerns a small family - Jim Fletcher (played by Jack), his wife and their teenage daughter - and their imminent emigration to Australia. So many aspects of the film make it seem so dated, not least that Jim's decision to emigrate is taken suddenly and without consultation with his wife and daughter - he is the head of the household. No messing about with visas and trying to find a job for his wife or a place at university for his daughter either.
Then the plan is to sail out to their new home - a journey that is going to take weeks rather than hours. Jim's parents-in-law struggle to come to terms with the knowledge that they will probably never see their daughter and granddaughter again. The teenage daughter meanwhile faces years of separation from her boyfriend with only pen and paper as a means of keeping in touch.
Emigration now of course is not such a wrench. We have affordable flights, Facebook and Skype. But the situation faced by Jim and his family was faced by many - and within living memory. The shrinking of the world has happened so quickly. It wasn't that long before the 1950s that even a move within England could mean life long separation. Many of my ancestors moved to Sheffield in the late 19th century, leaving behind agricultural labouring to work in the steel industry and domestic service. When William Wilkinson left Islip in the 1870s for life as a furnaceman, I wonder if he ever saw his parents or siblings again? It's doubtful.
Jim Fletcher and his family eventually stay in London - they have their happy ending. Not many migrants have had that kind of choice, in many cases it has been a case of move and leave everything, or starve.
Will we continue to make the world even smaller by devising methods of communication beyond our imagination? Or will we push our boundaries to a new frontier? One for the Star Trek fans I think.
Monday, 6 February 2012
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
On the Road With Sid
Carry on Camping and Convenience both use a post war housing estate for outdoor scenes. According to http://www.reelstreets.com/index.php?option=com_films_online&task=view&id=136&film_ref=carry_on_convenience&Itemid=3
this is the Pinewood Green Estate in Buckinghamshire.
These scenes have unlocked a memory of mine - something trivial yet a marker for a past life lived. It's the road surface that does it. Not Tarmac - ubiquitous to us - but concrete blocks separated by little gaps. It made a significant difference to the noise of riding in a car - it was more like riding on a train with the rhythmic thumps. When I was growing up in the 1970s/80, my grandparents lived on a post war housing estate on the edge of Sheffield - which also had roads just like those. I wondered what happened to these roads. I'm sure they've been Tarmaced over now. Why were they originally surfaced in this way? An internet trawl brought up just one site that might answer my question:
http://www.igg.org.uk/gansg/00-app1/roads.htm
Apparently at one time a high price of oil and so bitumen resulted in many roads being made of concrete. That would be it then. A little snapshot of transport history brought to us by Carry on.
this is the Pinewood Green Estate in Buckinghamshire.
These scenes have unlocked a memory of mine - something trivial yet a marker for a past life lived. It's the road surface that does it. Not Tarmac - ubiquitous to us - but concrete blocks separated by little gaps. It made a significant difference to the noise of riding in a car - it was more like riding on a train with the rhythmic thumps. When I was growing up in the 1970s/80, my grandparents lived on a post war housing estate on the edge of Sheffield - which also had roads just like those. I wondered what happened to these roads. I'm sure they've been Tarmaced over now. Why were they originally surfaced in this way? An internet trawl brought up just one site that might answer my question:
http://www.igg.org.uk/gansg/00-app1/roads.htm
Apparently at one time a high price of oil and so bitumen resulted in many roads being made of concrete. That would be it then. A little snapshot of transport history brought to us by Carry on.
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
Is it a ship? Is it a train? No, it's Sealink!
"On the Buses" must have proved to be a very popular film, because two more followed - "Mutiny on the Buses" and "Holiday on the Buses." Both sequels had an airing this Christmas holiday - in fact several airings I think. Anyway, 'Holiday' is notable for the scene where Olive loses her bikini bottoms in the swimming pool (breathlessly funny to my 9 year old) and for Wilfrid Brambell in the role of Mrs Butler's holiday romance. But as I watched it, I was yet again sent into a reverie of nostalgia - this time over the view of a Sealink ferry.
The scene shows a large ship making its way through a rough sea - it has a red painted funnel with the BR double arrow symbol emblazoned across it. This white logo on a red background is still used to denote today's privatised rail network. For example, signs directing people to stations, and the signs at station entrances all use it. It is a universally recognised part of the railway infrastructure. People now may wonder what an earth a railway symbol is doing on a ship - because sadly the connection between rail and shipping has been fuzzed. The shipping services were the first part of the railways to be re-privatised back in the 1980s. And there ended a connection that went back to the beginning of rail travel.
Victorian railway companies were quick to realise that by connecting their trains to boats, they could tap into a lucrative desire to travel to the Continent among the richer classes. Boat trains whizzed to major ports, where pleasure seekers could step from train to ship easily. There are a range of beautiful posters from the early 20th century that advertised such services. Railway companies also built docks - the Great Central Railway for example were responsible for founding the Port of Immingham and shipped in freight for rail distribution.
On nationalisation of the railways after World War Two, many shipping services remained in British Railways' hands - they crossed the channel and the North Sea, as well as ferrying people across the Humber to name but a few routes. But then came aeroplanes and package holidays and the Humber Bridge. When "Holiday on the Buses" was filmed in 1973, Sealink - the name that BR ships went under - was on its way out. Thankfully, the Channel Tunnel has restored a link between this waterway and rail that has been too tenuous for too long.
See http://www.doublearrow.co.uk/ for more on the BR logo - yes, a whole website is devoted to it!
The scene shows a large ship making its way through a rough sea - it has a red painted funnel with the BR double arrow symbol emblazoned across it. This white logo on a red background is still used to denote today's privatised rail network. For example, signs directing people to stations, and the signs at station entrances all use it. It is a universally recognised part of the railway infrastructure. People now may wonder what an earth a railway symbol is doing on a ship - because sadly the connection between rail and shipping has been fuzzed. The shipping services were the first part of the railways to be re-privatised back in the 1980s. And there ended a connection that went back to the beginning of rail travel.
Victorian railway companies were quick to realise that by connecting their trains to boats, they could tap into a lucrative desire to travel to the Continent among the richer classes. Boat trains whizzed to major ports, where pleasure seekers could step from train to ship easily. There are a range of beautiful posters from the early 20th century that advertised such services. Railway companies also built docks - the Great Central Railway for example were responsible for founding the Port of Immingham and shipped in freight for rail distribution.
On nationalisation of the railways after World War Two, many shipping services remained in British Railways' hands - they crossed the channel and the North Sea, as well as ferrying people across the Humber to name but a few routes. But then came aeroplanes and package holidays and the Humber Bridge. When "Holiday on the Buses" was filmed in 1973, Sealink - the name that BR ships went under - was on its way out. Thankfully, the Channel Tunnel has restored a link between this waterway and rail that has been too tenuous for too long.
See http://www.doublearrow.co.uk/ for more on the BR logo - yes, a whole website is devoted to it!
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
Saving a Stamp
Following on from my previous post, the holiday season brought yet another showing of "On the Buses". And if it's scheduled, then it's on in our house, being an inter-generational hit.
When Jack and Stan spike the women drivers' tea with something that makes them constantly desperate to spend a penny, we get to see a series of public conveniences. This is the perfect way to view some of the aforementioned buildings that have been lost. I took particular notice of this scene because of my recent blogging interest, and caught a glimpse of something else which awakened a whole new set of reminiscence.
The thing that I saw was an advertisement for Green Shield Stamps - an orange and white banded poster declaring that the stamps could be obtained there. This took me right back to a youth spent sticking strips of stamps into paper books - both Green Shield and Co-op Divi ones. When your book was full, it could be exchanged for a useful household gift in the precursor to Argos. Which home set up before 1985 doesn't have a set of glasses or crockery that were an exchange for a wodge of Green Shield books?
The most wonderful thing about these stamp based shopping reward schemes was the lack of need to carry plastic cards around with you everywhere. My wallet bursts at the seams with shop reward cards. I feel I must have them because I'm sure that shops factor in the costs of the rewards to their prices - so not to participate is to lose out. And they're all at it now! I curse the time I waste in searching for the card for that particular shop, the cuticles ripped and the nail varnish chipped while rooting around in the densely packed corners of my poor strained wallet. And then there's the junk mail - because the real reason behind modern reward schemes is data collection. Wasn't it all much simpler when you got a small child to stick stamps into a book to keep them quiet and then selected a gift from a catalogue? I'm sure Olive would agree.
When Jack and Stan spike the women drivers' tea with something that makes them constantly desperate to spend a penny, we get to see a series of public conveniences. This is the perfect way to view some of the aforementioned buildings that have been lost. I took particular notice of this scene because of my recent blogging interest, and caught a glimpse of something else which awakened a whole new set of reminiscence.
The thing that I saw was an advertisement for Green Shield Stamps - an orange and white banded poster declaring that the stamps could be obtained there. This took me right back to a youth spent sticking strips of stamps into paper books - both Green Shield and Co-op Divi ones. When your book was full, it could be exchanged for a useful household gift in the precursor to Argos. Which home set up before 1985 doesn't have a set of glasses or crockery that were an exchange for a wodge of Green Shield books?
The most wonderful thing about these stamp based shopping reward schemes was the lack of need to carry plastic cards around with you everywhere. My wallet bursts at the seams with shop reward cards. I feel I must have them because I'm sure that shops factor in the costs of the rewards to their prices - so not to participate is to lose out. And they're all at it now! I curse the time I waste in searching for the card for that particular shop, the cuticles ripped and the nail varnish chipped while rooting around in the densely packed corners of my poor strained wallet. And then there's the junk mail - because the real reason behind modern reward schemes is data collection. Wasn't it all much simpler when you got a small child to stick stamps into a book to keep them quiet and then selected a gift from a catalogue? I'm sure Olive would agree.
Wednesday, 21 December 2011
Spending a Penny
"Carry on Constable" is an early black & white Carry On film, made in 1960. I prefer these earlier films in the series - the humour is more subtle and restrained. At the turn of the 1970s this charm had been well and truly lost. "Constable" benefits from a smut free Sid James, a Charles Hawtrey with a delightful turn of phrase ("You merry quipper you!") and a sublime Joan Hickson as a genteel drunk.
As one of a group of raw police recruits filling in during a flu epidemic, Kenneth Connor plays Constable Constable. On his first beat, he is dropped off the line at a public convenience. A lady stands outside, frantically rooting about in her endless handbag. When Connor asks her if she needs any help, she replies "I could do with a copper and no mistake".
While laughing delightedly at this pun, it struck me that anyone watching now under the age of around 25, would have little idea of what was going on. The phrase 'spending a penny' might sound familiar, but hold no meaning. It seems that with the rise of the out of town shopping centres, public conveniences have disappeared from the suburban high street. We now visit toilets in shops and malls where the need to pay a penny for the upkeep of the facilities has gone. Those remaining stand-alone purpose built conveniences - maybe at the seaside or at the park, no longer seem to charge either. Has the level of upkeep dropped, or is payment coming in from another source? Car parking charges perhaps? Judging by the smell in a lot of them it is the former.
I don't include those big metal tardis toilets in town centres. Does anyone actually use these? I for one am far too terrified that the door will open on me in my own Carry On moment. The days of entering a low, concrete and tiled building with a penny for the big metal box on the door are gone. Probably much to the chagrin of bus drivers, taxi drivers and especially to those who have to pick up the bottles of dubious looking liquid from grass verges on A roads.
As one of a group of raw police recruits filling in during a flu epidemic, Kenneth Connor plays Constable Constable. On his first beat, he is dropped off the line at a public convenience. A lady stands outside, frantically rooting about in her endless handbag. When Connor asks her if she needs any help, she replies "I could do with a copper and no mistake".
While laughing delightedly at this pun, it struck me that anyone watching now under the age of around 25, would have little idea of what was going on. The phrase 'spending a penny' might sound familiar, but hold no meaning. It seems that with the rise of the out of town shopping centres, public conveniences have disappeared from the suburban high street. We now visit toilets in shops and malls where the need to pay a penny for the upkeep of the facilities has gone. Those remaining stand-alone purpose built conveniences - maybe at the seaside or at the park, no longer seem to charge either. Has the level of upkeep dropped, or is payment coming in from another source? Car parking charges perhaps? Judging by the smell in a lot of them it is the former.
I don't include those big metal tardis toilets in town centres. Does anyone actually use these? I for one am far too terrified that the door will open on me in my own Carry On moment. The days of entering a low, concrete and tiled building with a penny for the big metal box on the door are gone. Probably much to the chagrin of bus drivers, taxi drivers and especially to those who have to pick up the bottles of dubious looking liquid from grass verges on A roads.
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
Lavender Hill Living
"The Lavender Hill Mob" is one of Ealing Studios' best loved productions. With Alec Guinness and Stanley Holloway as a couple of amateur gold thieves and Sid James and Alfie Bass as their petty criminal sidekicks it's certainly a class act.
One of the reasons why I like it - aside from the cracking cast and story - are the scenes of post war London. The film was made in 1951 - after the Blitz and before a lot of the redevelopment had taken place. The London we know today is a mix of period and modern architecture - but halfway through the 20th century it was a very different place. It was a mix of those buildings that had survived, and fenced-off gaps denoting those that were gone forever. I hasten to add that we are talking mainly about the east end here. I recently watched another fifties film called "Touch and Go" which had scenes filmed near the Albert Bridge. There was no sign at all of Blitzed London down this end of the river. As the Lavender Hill Mob carry out their planned robbery it showcases the state of the blitzed city, and invites us to reflect on the work and money that went into rebuilding by an exhausted and bankrupt people. Given the scale of the job I find it amazing that so much was accomplished even by the end of the century.
Of course, the post war period was a time of acute housing shortage. The most heavily bombed areas were also the most densely populated, and along with returning members of the armed forces this put pressure on the remaining stock. "The Lavender Hill Mob" shows the two main characters each having rooms in a lodging house (or 'private hotel') which is shared by several people. This is how they meet and formulate the robbery. This gives us a peep at how some single men of the lower middle class lived then. I wonder how much of this situation was due to the housing shortage, and how much was due to these men never having learned to look after themselves? It would have been assumed in their upbringing that there would always be a female in their life to see to domestic matters. Neither of these characters are married so they have placed themselves in the care of a landlady. In modern times, they would most likely live alone in a small flat each (if not even still be at home with parents!) I wonder how our more lonely housing habits lead to less in the way of collaborations in several areas of life - from crime to business?
One of the reasons why I like it - aside from the cracking cast and story - are the scenes of post war London. The film was made in 1951 - after the Blitz and before a lot of the redevelopment had taken place. The London we know today is a mix of period and modern architecture - but halfway through the 20th century it was a very different place. It was a mix of those buildings that had survived, and fenced-off gaps denoting those that were gone forever. I hasten to add that we are talking mainly about the east end here. I recently watched another fifties film called "Touch and Go" which had scenes filmed near the Albert Bridge. There was no sign at all of Blitzed London down this end of the river. As the Lavender Hill Mob carry out their planned robbery it showcases the state of the blitzed city, and invites us to reflect on the work and money that went into rebuilding by an exhausted and bankrupt people. Given the scale of the job I find it amazing that so much was accomplished even by the end of the century.
Of course, the post war period was a time of acute housing shortage. The most heavily bombed areas were also the most densely populated, and along with returning members of the armed forces this put pressure on the remaining stock. "The Lavender Hill Mob" shows the two main characters each having rooms in a lodging house (or 'private hotel') which is shared by several people. This is how they meet and formulate the robbery. This gives us a peep at how some single men of the lower middle class lived then. I wonder how much of this situation was due to the housing shortage, and how much was due to these men never having learned to look after themselves? It would have been assumed in their upbringing that there would always be a female in their life to see to domestic matters. Neither of these characters are married so they have placed themselves in the care of a landlady. In modern times, they would most likely live alone in a small flat each (if not even still be at home with parents!) I wonder how our more lonely housing habits lead to less in the way of collaborations in several areas of life - from crime to business?
Tuesday, 6 December 2011
Three Old Men and Some Trains
Following on from last week's little rant abut modern actresses, I'd like to move that theme on by looking at a favourite classic. While writing about railway themed films a few weeks back, I mentioned one of my all time favourites, "Oh! Mr Porter". So of course I had to go and watch it again having reminded myself of it. After mopping up the tea that I spilled during a belly laugh (I've seen it more than a dozen times and was watching it alone, and still it was laugh out loud funny) I reflected on the timeless nature of the humour. The funniest bits are so because they are still familiar ideas - pinching from your employer, incompetence at work, getting drunk and old man's underpants - all well established British comedy staples. I particularly like the scene where Hay, Marriott and Moffatt try and work out what time the express is due, the clocks having just gone forward for summer time. They eventually agree that it's not due for another two hours - then of course it appears round the bend, coming towards them at full pelt. Simple but great.
There is one thing about this 1937 film that the modern film industry would shy away from - and I don't mean the references to the IRA gun-runners. There would be some discussion about this and perhaps this aspect of the plot would be changed - but it is still a relevant storyline. No, the one thing that would really scare modern film studios would be the nature of the stars. Hay, Marriott and Moffatt - an old bloke, an even older bloke and a fat lad. Not a woman or a thin blonde love interest in sight. It would never be allowed! Can you imagine a film like this getting the go-ahead today? 'Who will we market this film to?' they would want to know. 'Surely no females will want to watch it if there are no characters for them to identify themselves with?' Because we are really stupid and only want to watch women in silly shoes going shopping don't we? The people running modern media are all so keen to fit us into neat pigeon holes that it stifles creativity. I wonder how many glorious comedies have not been made in recent years because of this pandering to imagined audiences? Off I go, ranting again. But, I know, "I'm wasting me time!"
Happy birthday Will Hay and Graham Moffatt.
There is one thing about this 1937 film that the modern film industry would shy away from - and I don't mean the references to the IRA gun-runners. There would be some discussion about this and perhaps this aspect of the plot would be changed - but it is still a relevant storyline. No, the one thing that would really scare modern film studios would be the nature of the stars. Hay, Marriott and Moffatt - an old bloke, an even older bloke and a fat lad. Not a woman or a thin blonde love interest in sight. It would never be allowed! Can you imagine a film like this getting the go-ahead today? 'Who will we market this film to?' they would want to know. 'Surely no females will want to watch it if there are no characters for them to identify themselves with?' Because we are really stupid and only want to watch women in silly shoes going shopping don't we? The people running modern media are all so keen to fit us into neat pigeon holes that it stifles creativity. I wonder how many glorious comedies have not been made in recent years because of this pandering to imagined audiences? Off I go, ranting again. But, I know, "I'm wasting me time!"
Happy birthday Will Hay and Graham Moffatt.
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