This is a strange little propaganda piece, a
flashback-structured film that dramatises the ‘true’ story of Melbourne Johns,
a foreman from a munitions factory who went to France to reclaim some
industrial machinery loaned to a French company that, in 1940, was in danger of
falling into the hands of the Germans. In one sense, then, this is a
comfortable slice of Ealing wartime drama: there are appearances from familiar
faces (Mervyn Johns, Gordon Jackson, Thora Hird), recognisable themes
(Britain’s defiance and ingenuity, the strong relationship between Britain and
France in the face of adversity) and repeated tropes (Britain wasn’t prepared,
dangers of the fifth column). But at the same time, it has music hall comedian
Tommy Trinder, and his reliable tropes of lusting after anything in a skirt,
disobeying orders, and generally playing the fool. Oh, and technically Trinder
isn’t even the lead character and doesn’t appear until over twenty minutes in.
That the film never feels as schizophrenic as that
description might suggest is largely down to the cast: Clifford Evans as the
foreman of the title, Fred Carrick; American actress Constance Cummings as Anne
Stafford, an American working at the French company Carrick visits to get his
machines back; Trinder as Tommy Hoskins and Gordon Jackson as Alastair ‘Jock’
McFarlane, two British soldiers who get pressganged into helping Carrick
transport his machines to a southern port in their truck.
The film is most often talked about in relation to the
foolish nature of the ‘foreman’, who trusts each authority figure he meets in
France (the railway station master, the mayor, the prefect), all of whom are
fifth columnists working for the Germans. Carrick can be read as analogous to
1940s Britain, unsure and unaware of the kind of war being fought, largely
trusting the establishment and not challenging the status quo. Throughout the
film, Carrick begins to appreciate his situation, and he spots the final fake –
someone masquerading as a British colonel – without the help of Stafford. How
far we would want to stretch the Carrick/Britain analogy is uncertain, although
it is also true that the first person he places all his trust in is an
American, Stafford, who initially claims neutrality but, after the death of her
sister in a German bombing, sticks with Carrick for the rest of his journey.
Trinder’s appearance as a cocky British soldier, on a
mission to liberate some curry powder, does change the tone of the film, but
not as much as might be expected (particularly on the basis of his earlier
appearances in this Challenge: Fiddlers
Three 1944 and Sailors Three
1940). There are some more comic moments, but then the film is hardly a grim
drama before his appearance. The main addition is a romantic triangle between
him, Carrick and Stafford (there is never any sense that ‘Jock’ would be
interested – but to make sure, the film kills him off towards the end) –
Trinder gets a couple of opportunities to sing, and play the harmonica, but
they are brief.
While it feels quite small in scope to begin with – lots
of set-based work, returning to similar sets (notably the French factory) – the
film broadens in scope visually and narratively when these four characters take
to the road. The increase in location work (and the reliance on variable back
projection) aids the film’s propaganda elements – the scene of a road filled
with refugees strafed by German fighters is brutal (and uses sharp editing that
wouldn’t look out of place in an Eisenstein film, particularly a collision of
shots of young children, a plane zooming into camera, screams, and gunfire) – a
similar scene in Ealing’s Dunkirk
(1958) is surely an echo of this work. It is also a point that shows the film
isn’t afraid of pulling punches for propaganda purposes – Carrick is shot in
the hand, and a nun is killed in the attack.
The rest of their journey – a British road movie through
France, in some ways – is episodic, but never completely flags (although a
stop-off in a farmhouse where Trinder chases cows does test the patience a
little – a necessary element if only to get him out of the way while the film
develops the Evans/Cummings romance). They see the aftermath of an incendiary
attack on a French town (similarities here to Trinder’s The Bells Go Down, 1942), there is a discussion of Britain ‘waking
up at last’, the refugee kids are dropped off at a convent, ‘Jock’ takes a
bullet defending them, and they end up at a French port, where resolute French
people decide to make room on the last boat for Carrick’s machines.
Overall, this is a nicely done little film, but it
survives largely because of a committed cast and some strong narrative
elements. Trinder is actually a useful addition here, adding to the ensemble
without dominating it. Cummings is suitably brash and biting, and maternal and
supportive, where required, but her character remains the most sensible and
self-aware of the group throughout – she spots the fifth columnists that
Carrick is (initially) ignorant of. It might be seen as another of Ealing’s
transitional films – made around the same time as The Bells Go Down, San
Demetrio London (1943) and Went the
Day Well? (1943), other experiments in the melding of documentary,
propaganda and drama.
Next time, Tommy Trinder joins the AFS during the blitz, when The Bells Go Down (1943)...
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