Dir. Peter Collinson
It's a great moment when you find
something with no knowledge of it, no expectations good or bad, no idea what
its actually about, and find out it's great. A Hammer production, Straight
On Till Morning is not quite a horror film but is still creepy and is
completely unconventional to most British genre films I've seen from this
period in many ways. It's a surprise that Peter
Collinson is the director of this too. Yes, he made The Italian Job (1969), but while its very well made, it's also a
bit of a personality-less work too pleased with itself. And Fright (1971), a potentially great
proto-slasher with Susan George, was
dull. Even if it becomes somewhat more conventional by the half way point, this
is such an unexpected surprise.
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A young woman Brenda Thompson (Rita Tushingham), clearly with some
psychological issues, simplistic, almost childlike, naive with an incredible awkwardness
with trying to communicate with others, leaves her home to go to London for her
"Prince Charming". In London at the same time is a young, dashing man
named Peter Clive (Shane Briant),
almost childlike too, but like his namesake Peter Pan, more of a free spirited
young boy with a clear idea of what he wants than innocent and easy to lead
like Brenda. It's also clear very early on that he has a dark side, and when
these two meet and start to live together in his home, his other side is just
lingering under the surface. It's an odd film, a drama that yet steps into an
unsuspecting territory for most viewers. The first half, before the two meet, separate
stories, is played out in an incredibly dense, chronology breaking series of
images and scenes back and forth, through almost modern editing, where you can
see the events of a character new and how it was set up together
one-after-another, the two separate threads quickly bounced between in a pace
of an expert juggling act. I can't help but admire the gall to have made this
section this way, and barring the almost drops in background sound when it
skips from one place to another, at the same time or the past or future, and
back again, it's done exceptionally well. I cannot help but expect these
seventies genre films from my country to be workmanlike and plainly made
barring the exceptions, so editing that's from the page of Nicolas Roeg, which it can actually pull is, is incredible.
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Quite early into the film, for
her and eventually both when the characters are interacting, actors Tushingham and Briant hold the giant task of keeping their story up on their
shoulders exceptionally. Tushingham
perfectly conveys a girl who, frankly, is so awkward in her behaviour that unfortunately
you would be put off if she tried forcing a question to you as a random
stranger you encounter, but you sympathise with her too. Briant as Peter is as sympathetic; the nature of his character the
viewer knows but Brenda doesn't is nerve-shredding, but the film lets you see
why he is who he is, and feel pity for him still. But even she, quickly,
realises something is amiss with him, racking the tension up even if she's
still smitten by him. When it reaches the last half, when she meets him and
moves into his house, and the abstract editing style is mostly dropped, Straight On Till Morning is still
unconventional. The characters are so different from what you usually expect
that their interactions, as her mother and others try to find her, that you
cannot help but feel pulled further into the narrative. It's a very well made
film, but also one even by this section of the story presents the material in a
different way. Moments when the abstract editing is used occasionally again for
aspects needing a break in conventional timeframe. The feeding out of
characterisation that is structured drastically different from most films - we
know the dark secrets of Peter, but the reasoning and detail behind it is
what's slowly given to us. Even how the film ends is very unexpected. Sound
design for the film is as complex in its design, especially the ending where
its use of it is unbelievably disturbing. The ending itself doesn't wrap itself
up in a neat package either for added and devastating effect.
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That I've never heard of this
film at all before now is shocking in hindsight. Maybe it was too strange. The
editing in the first half too much for many viewers expecting a basic one just
to give them the obvious plot points. It may have not been enough of a horror film,
but also encased in such a unconventional tone. Briant as Peter is a youthful and handsome man, but Tushingham really has to act outside
one's comfort zone, not playing a "beautiful" young woman as one
would presume there to be in British genre films, in a decade which would go to
cover girls and sexpots, but someone who would be dismissed as an ugly duckling,
contrasted with an actress playing the conventional attractive woman who is
pulled into Brenda's life after she joins hers first. Tushingham also has to act out a performance, let alone act
physically, as a character who is as awkward as she is, so easy to break, and
with moments of really intense crying that would not be seen as
"glamorous". Her performance and character reminds me of Sissy Spacek in Carrie (1976), with as much of a Herculean task on her shoulders,
despite the importance of Peter being filled out with a great performance,
which she overcomes and succeeds with immensely. Nothing about the film is
really that digestible as a conventional horror film or as drama. Brutally,
British cinema has a terrible tendency to be mostly celebrated for its
mediocrity. Anything legitimately great, unless it cannot be ignored in its
size or scale, is dismissed as an "oddity", or lambasted as
pretentious or failed. The good news is that films like this one are available
- this review could be said to be sponsored by The Horror Channel, a cable channel that says what it does on the
tin - and we can appreciate our cinema culture now as Brits, with those few exceptions
needing a release still, without having it be dismissed for the obvious BAFTA winner. Pretty snarky and cynical
on my part, I know, but I'm not blaming the obvious, cheap targets like
Hollywood's influence on cinema, but that Britain as a cinematic culture has
been forced to pander to middle class viewers with no willingness to be brave
or really imaginative. If a Hammer
production can be this unconventional, it shows there is a refreshing
alternative to this mindset, (and not necessarily a dismissal of the rest of Hammer's catalogue either), and Straight On Till Morning is such a strange and uncomfortable work.
With its ending, returning to it, you would expect any other film to continue
on with the perceived evil being stopped and social harmony to be restored. It
doesn't happen and it ends. The point of the story is gained through this
abrupt end, the devastation already having effect and irreversible. It's not
childish nihilism either, but sadness and surprise for two very damaged people
who are not a glamorous couple who live in the suburbs. Gone is the compromise
the director's most well know film The
Italian Job was stuck with - where the celebration of antisocial frolics
was tainted by having it being done "for Blighty" - and suddenly he
made up for it with such a fantastic piece of dream fiction.
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