Charles Barr suggests that many of Ealing’s war films can be
usefully grouped together as representing particular themes or interests: he
places Next of Kin (a regular
shortening of the title, although the on-screen credit keeps the definite
article The Next of Kin) alongside The Foremen Went to France (1942) and Went the Day Well? (1943) as films that
deal with ‘battles of wits’ which ‘enforces resource and alertness, and
penalises complacency and amateurism.’ (Barr 1980, 33) While the Tommy Trinder
film has yet to make an appearance in this challenge, it is useful to consider
the relationship of The Next of Kin
to Went the Day Well? and Ealing’s
other war films. (it is also fair to note the film bears little resemblance to the U.S. film poster seen here!)
The theme of The Next
of Kin can be summed up by many of the wartime posters that make up
important background elements of its mise-en-scene:
‘Careless Talk Costs Lives’ or ‘Telling a friend may mean telling The Enemy.’
This is effectively a dramatisation of those sentiments and the general sense
of ‘loose lips sink ships’ that was present during the Second World War. The
film began as a production for the military, to educate and remind soldiers of
this issue – producer Michael Balcon and director Thorold Dickinson saw it as a
chance to convey that message to a wider public, and expanded the initial budget
(and running time) to produce this final version.
Caught between propaganda and drama, the film struggles to
find a suitable balance: and one of the most obvious differences with Went the Day Well? is that there are few
characters in The Next of Kin that are
developed enough to care about. In the later film, the well-drawn characters
create interest and drama (and shock, when they are often killed); here, one of
the ironies of the film is that the most interesting characters are the German
spies, not the British soldiers who inadvertently reveal information on troop
movements and plans. Mervyn Johns as Davis (or ‘Number 23’), remains a
fascinating chameleonic figure, easily moving between the different British classes
on display, able to make friends, yet also retaining a slightly whiny, put-upon
figure whenever he meets up with his German handler, Barratt (Stephen Murray).
The standout sequence is one between him and an ATS driver (Thora Hird) where,
in the space of two scenes, he has charmed her by helping fix a tyre, been
invited into the bosom of a military dance, and discovered vital information
via a pompous male sergeant. Well-played by Hird and Johns, it shows his
character’s skill and demonstrates how Davis remains the most multi-faceted
character within the film.
The only other characters who make an impact are Miss Clare
(Phyllis Stanley), a drug-addicted performer who tours around army camps, and
her dresser, Ma / Mrs Webster (Mary Clare). Ma is revealed early on as a German
spy, using Clare’s cocaine addiction to force her to pump young squaddies for
information to relay back to Berlin. (the film does not, however, suggest that
it is simply young women who can entice military secrets out of men, as the
example of Johns’ character shows) Equally compelling is bookshop owner Barratt
who blackmails his Dutch refugee employee Beppie (Nora Pilbeam) by threatening
that the Gestapo will take her Rotterdam-based parents into protective custody
unless she gets information from her soldier boyfriend. The fact that these
characters are the source of most of the actual dramatic elements of the film is
most notable when Beppie kills Barratt, and is then killed by Davis: without
those figures to focus on, the film abandons character-based drama in favour of
the action footage of largely faceless battalions landing at the port of
Norville, and their battles with the (pre-warned) German troops. While this is
well-shot and tense in places, there is very little at stake in terms of
individuals – again, the comparison with the final fight sequence in Went the Day Well? favours the later
film, because there is more engagement with the characters.
So where are the British characters in all this? They are largely
forgettable vanilla privates, majors and lieutenants, who tend to merge
together, pawns in the spies’ webs and schemes. The main British character,
security officer Richards (Reginald Tate), has to handle the brunt of the
propaganda, often spouting slogans and warnings rather than anything that would
endear us to him as a character.
You could argue that this was the point of the film, that
normal, uneventful British types were being duped into giving away pieces of
information by talented, colourful, German spies, and that everyone should be
wary. The opening titles exclaim ‘This is the story of how YOU unwittingly
worked for the Enemy’ – and it is possible the association with the Directorate
of Army Kinematography reduced the ability of Ealing to effectively dramatise
or introduce stronger British characters (something the studio was noted for,
and which is visible in earlier films like Saloon
Bar). As noted above, the reliance on British soldiers as a mass – obeying
orders, rushing a beach, training together – does work to overwhelm the few
individuals we see. The British soldiers are successful in their mission, but
the revelation of secret plans means more men are killed – and ‘the next of kin
casualties have been informed’ – allowing the film to (rather ponderously)
reiterate to its central message at the end.
Visually, there are elements of later Ealing concerns (the
location work is strong, the cast is diverse and interesting), there are nice
comic touches (Johns, in the bookshop, leafs through a book titled ‘I Am A Nazi
Agent’), while the film’s emphasis on sexuality does tend towards the limited
view of women seen in some Ealing films: Clare’s exotic dancer, Beppie’s shop
worker, Ma’s German spy and Hird’s female van driver. While Clare and Hird are
unwilling dupes, there is no sense that the film presents women as the only source
of secret information, it leaks just as easily in conversations between men: as
seen in the appealing final sequence where those recurring upper class twit
characters of 1930s/40s British films (played by Basil Radford and Naunton
Wayne) chat about a munitions factory. Yet as the camera reveals in a sly pan
to the right, sat next to them (and lighting their cigarettes) is Davis,
revelling in the detail they are giving. If there is any doubt that his
character dominates the film, this final return and centrality appears to
confirm it.
Next time, back to the earlier Ealing film on the list with The Gaunt Stranger (1938)...
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