Not many British films make the “Best Film Noir” lists but Brighton Rock regularly does. And unlike many a key “British” noir, this one was directed by a Brit, John Boulting rather than an American fleeing McCarthyism (Jules Dassin and Night and the City or Cy Endfield and Hell Drivers), a visiting Frenchman (Edmond Gréville’s Noose) or an expat Brazilian (Alberto Cavalcanti’s They Made Me a Fugitive).
It’s also unusual because of the role it gives Richard Attenborough. Nice, cuddly Dickie later of Jurassic Park fame here plays a smalltime 17-year-old psychopathic mobster in the town of Brighton, a seaside resort with a reputation for kiss-me-quick hats and extramarital affairs conducted by people down from London.
We get plenty of Brighton itself in the film’s opening minutes, following a reporter on an assignment. Because Pinkie holds this reporter responsible for the death of a gang member, the reporter (Alan Wheatley) is chased through the bustling resort by Pinkie and gang, with ducks and dives into pubs and eventually onto the pier and funfair, where he winds up dead.
But there’s a problem. Two witnesses might lead the police to Pinkie. Rose, a naive waitress in one of the town’s many restaurant/tea rooms. And Ida, a brassy entertainer who spent some time with the reporter in the minutes before he died and has now taken it on herself to play the amateur sleuth.
Brighton Rock is the story of Pinkie trying to cover his trail. Of Rose, who Pinkie tries to woo and marry in an attempt to prevent her from testifying against him. And of Ida bearing down upon him like a vengeful fate. The two females are the virgin/whore poles of womanhood – Pinkie refers to Ida throughout as a “brass”, rhyming slang for whore (“brass nail” rhyming with “tail”, say the books, not entirely convincingly). Rose, who declares herself to be a Catholic, is clearly a virgin.
John Boulting and his director brother Roy (the producer here) were known for their light satires and there is plenty of that energy in Brighton Rock – especially in scenes out where people are having fun. But the overriding mood is of a dirty jollity, a seediness that so worried Brighton’s authorities that they tried to stop Boulting from shooting in the town. So he shot his exteriors with hidden cameras and then attempted to placate Brighton’s burghers with a preamble stating (twice) that the Brighton depicted on screen is the town in its bad old days. It isn’t like that any more. These days it is all vegan cuisine, but I digress.
Graham Greene wrote the original story – seediness being his stock in trade – and Terence Rattigan and Greene adapted it for the screen. There’s some of Greene’s usual religious posturing (all of which can, as usual, be ignored without any major effect) and his characters are succinctly sketched – Pinkie does not drink, smoke or even eat chocolate. Does he want sex with Rose? It seems moot, at best. He might not be that way inclined. It’s also noticeable how well formed the side characters are – William Hartnell (later to be the first Doctor Who) as one of Pinkie’s gruff henchmen, Harcourt Williams as a crooked lawyer with a penchant for Shakespeare, Charles Goldner as the town’s resident Mr Big.
Attenborough is good as Pinkie, all tight features and fidgety fingers (he constantly plays with a cat’s cradle). Carol Marsh is so good as Rose that here she is essentially typecasting herself into an acting corner as a sweet innocent thing (she’d later play Alice in a French Alice in Wonderland, Scrooge’s sweet sister in the Alastair Sim version of A Christmas Carol and Dracula’s victim in Hammer’s classic 1958 Dracula). But the standout is Hermione Baddeley as Ida, the goodtime girl with a big distinctive laugh and a bigger personality. Ida may be an implausible character – and way too deus ex machina for comfort – but it’s a great performance.
Boulting directs with half an eye on the style of Fritz Lang – his fluid camera dollying-in for emotional climaxes – and with ironic moments of plot development that seem to be borrowed from Hitchcock. Boulting’s DP is Harry Waxman (later of The Wicker Man), who gives Boulting a crisp, clean image entirely at odds with the murkiness of what’s on screen. Mark that down to dramatic irony, if you like.
Brighton Rock – Watch it/buy it at Amazon
I am an Amazon affiliate
© Steve Morrissey 2024
