Archive for Kenneth Colley

Juggernaut Jones

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , on July 17, 2019 by dcairns

Our Freddie Jones tribute screening consisted of THE ELEPHANT MAN and JUGGERNAUT. I can’t discuss his role in the latter without heavy spoilers, but I would argue that the film, though beautifully plotted, is spoiler-proof because its real pleasures go well beyond the what-happens-ness of the narrative.

But the spoilers start right now.

I was able to get Fiona to rewatch JUGGERNAUT because she’d forgotten most of the what-happens, and because I sold it as Freddie’s only title role. We see cops Anthony Hopkins and Kenneth Colley (a Ken Russell favourite) interview various suspects or potential informants as they try to catch the pseudonymous title terrorist. (One scene shows them backstage at Swan Lake, presumably interviewing the dry ice specialist about his protechnics expertise, but alas we don’t meet him.) Freddie Jones, Cyril Cusack and Michael Hordern play the characters we do meet, so there’s a small whodunnity aspect to the story. But as with a Maigret mystery, whydunnit is much more important and interesting.

Hopkins interviews Cusack in prison, giving the scene a little SILENCE OF THE LAMBS pre-echo, but with Hopkins in the opposite part. Cusack plays a charming IRA bomb man, evidently a bit of a psychopath, but mostly just old: “I don’t really care who gets blown up.” No longer full of passionate intensity, he apparently now lacks all conviction and his only reason for not teasing Hopkins with false leads is that he can’t be bothered.

Director Richard Lester told me they started the scene at the usual time, and when they finished it he looked at his watch and it was 9.20 a.m. or something. A wonderful feeling for a man who liked to move fast!

Michael Hordern is working at a dog track (because robot rabbits and bombs are part of the same skillset) and is annoyed that his name’s on the terror suspect list. He only does criminal stuff abroad, and his last job was for HM Gov and they promised to take him off the list. “You can’t trust anybody these days,” says Colley, before promising to take him off the list if he helps. Hordern does a shifty look. He’s only really here because Lester loved his work and because we need another suspect. The rule of three.

Freddie’s character, Sidney Buckland, is a retired bomb disposal man, living in a little suburban home with his nice wife, watching telly and seemingly quite relaxed and helpful to the police. If this were a whodunnit, which it is, we’d immediately finger him for the perp, which we do. But Jones plays his scene with so little intensity — not always a naturalistic actor, but he can do it when required — that he gets away with it. And his lovely wife, Kristine Howarth, is so warm and sweet, she’s the best character witness you could ask for.

The thing that makes the pay-off satisfying is that Buckland is the former colleague and guv’nor of Fallon, the hero (Richard Harris), the man who has the job of defusing the bombs. When Fallon recognises the style of the bomb as belonging to a wartime German job he defused with Buckland, the cops realise Buckland is their man (the original bomb’s designer being dead). So this is satisfying in narrative terms but also makes the situation worse, especially for the hero: the man he has to outsmart is his friend and defusion guru.

(The movie doesn’t worry about why 47-year-old Jones is retired — the real one worked until the age of 90 — but I guess acting is different from bomb disposal — or is it? — or how he and 44-year-old Harris could have been defusing doodlebugs thirty years earlier — evidently both characters are older than they look.)

Fallon has narrowed his options down to two wires, red and blue. He can’t tell which one deactivates the bomb and which one will set it off. Oh, and there are several bombs, all below the waterline on an ocean liner in heavy seas. No way to evacuate, and any mistake will kill everyone. Fallon has already lost his best friend Charlie Braddock, on this job, and he’s a tired, angry fellow who despises the establishment he works for.

Catching Juggernaut means they can ask Buckland which wire to cut. It’s on a timer and it’s going to go off in minutes. If Harris cuts the right wire he can convey to his team, each stationed at their own device, which one he cut and they can duplicate his action (if all the bombs are the same).

Freddie/Buckland walks to the mic, I think maybe the only tracking shot in the film. (To make the film feel like it was unfolding “live,” Lester shot casually, mo st scene s covered from one position with two or three cameras, one on a master, the others punching in to catch closeups and details.)

So, by radio, Fallon asks Buckland which wire he ought to cut. He appeals to their friendship, he acknowledges Buckland’s mastery, and he reminds his mentor what the fear and tension of the job are like. It’s an impassioned performance and a sensible approach that WOULD work, if you were dealing with a fellow human being with a spark of empathy left.

Lester cross-cuts between the two wires in macro-close-up, each forming a diagonal for maximum graphic punch.

Buckland tells Fallon to cut the blue wire.

Fallon thinks about it. Then cuts the red wire. The bomb doesn’t go off. “It’s red, lads!” he shouts. Job done. The audience can wipe its sweaty hands.

This ending is really impressive and nailbiting cinematically bravura. Still, something about it kind of bothered me as a kid, and I thought about it, worried away at it, and it got even better.

First, there’s the fact that Buckland steers Fallon wrong, even though he’s already been caught. Killing his friend and all those passengers and crew will achieve nothing, now. He’s never going to get his half million ransom, and his probable sentence for mass murder will be, if possible, even harsher than his sentence for extortion by terror would have been. It’s a completely nihilistic and self-destructive act. Therefore a good gesture for the antagonist to make at the end of a story, I guess.

But what about Fallon? We have to assume that something about Buckland’s delivery of the simple lines, “It’s blue,” and “Cut the blue wire,” tells Fallon that his old friend is not to be trusted. He detects the trap and avoids it.

Now this clip IS a spoiler.

What I realised was bothering me is that Fallon, on impulse, cuts the red wire, without telling anyone. His team, listening in, think he’s cutting the blue. If he’d guessed wrong, they have all cut the red wire, thinking he’d been killed by the blue, and they have all been blown up also.

(Of course, if he’d guessed wrong, they’d probably all drown anyway.)

It seemed like, to create suspense, the film had Fallon do something pretty stupid. He should at least have announced what he was doing. But that would have been messy, would have spoiled the neatness of the tension-relief scheme.

But maybe Fallon didn’t care. Maybe he just made a perverse choice, not worrying about the consequences. Perversity and rebellion are big parts of his character. And maybe Buckland is a model for the man Fallon might turn into. So maybe Fallon’s action, which saves the ship and everyone on it, was also a completely nihilistic and self-destructive act.

Fallon doesn’t look relieved or happy that the ship doesn’t explode.

He goes on deck and looks out, not at where the ship has been, but back at its wake.

He has the air of a gambler who has lost everything. But is disappointed to find he’s still there.

BUCKLAND: I can’t explain what they did to me, not in official police jargon. […] They teach you how to dismantle bombs, save lives. But they didn’t pay you enough so you learn how to design bombs, taking lives. Pays much better. And then one day you’re old and they give you a miserable pension. I’m still good at my job.”

JUGGERNAUT features Professor Albus Dumbledore; Doctor Yuri Zhivago; Dildano; Dr. Hannibal Lecter; Polo Bollen; Bilbo Baggins; Sheriff J.W. Pepper; the Cheshire Cat; the Mock Turtle; Eva Braun; Thufir Hawat; Major Breen; Chief Insp. Gregg; Pandit Nehru; Admiral Piett; Lord Tarquin of Staines; Cuthbert Clare; Hopkirk (deceased); Control; Roj Blake; and Manimal.

“He understands machines.”

Posted in FILM, Theatre with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 18, 2008 by dcairns

Topol the World!

Losey’s GALILEO, closely adapted from Brecht’s play, is a piece of filmed theatre pure and simple, made for The American Film Theater, a rather high-minded body that sought to capture great plays and performances on film. In the few years they were running they did some good work. Although, as a lover of CINEMA, I sometimes suspect there’s a basic flaw in this idea. Much of the effect of theatre comes from the physical PRESENCE of the actors, the experience of being in the room with them. Even a skilfully filmed play can’t capture that.

I won’t bother protesting that filmed theatre excludes much of what cinema can do. All artists work within limitations, either imposed by circumstances or chosen for aesthetic reasons. So the limitations of the stage play need not preclude great cinema. They might make it harder


It’s a terrific play! I had the usual alienation effect at school, where we we conned ourselves into believing Brecht was dull, but it’s a testament to the quality of the writing that the thing comes over so well in a two-hour plus film without any added “filmic” elements. Losey had a long history with Galileo, having directed, or refereed, a version for the stage starring Charles Laughton and involving the active collaboration of Brecht himself. THAT is a theatrical production I wouldn’t mind seeing captured on film. But this version has Topol, who’s tip-top, and an amazing supporting cast, including previous Loseyites Clive Revill, Patrick Magee, Edward Fox, Michael Gough…

The period and theatrical setting, and the inquisition side of things, make it at times reminiscent of THE DEVILS, also a somewhat Brechtian production. But this one is a little more sedate. Michael Lonsdale demonstrates that while a paunchy man stripped to the waist is not the most appealing sight, the effect can be enhances with a neatly trimmed beard. It’s obscene!

The Beard

Topol says it was good to have a “coherent” director for once. Topol’s teeth are like exuberant gravestones. Topol also played Professor Zarkoff. Topol is Mr. Science.




How on earth did they do THIS? You can’t get a BLACK shadow on a white wall, certainly not with other light sources around — the light bounces all over and partly fills in the shadowy bits. Yet here it is. You can see from the floor shadow and the modelling on the faces that they’re NOT being lit by one giant light at the front left, low down. Where are the shadows coming from?

Shadow Puppets

We wondered if the wall was a translucent screen and actors behind it were mimicking the actors in front, creating shadows for them (I THINK that’s what’s happening in the opening shot of Borzage’s MOONRISE). But this quickly becomes absurd — every tiny shake of the head is duplicated. Those shadows belong to those actors. It gets weirder.

Shadow Cabinet

The messenger walks in with his proclamation, casting a whopping shadow on the white wall, but no shadow on the splendid Kenneth (THE DEVILS) Colley, standing right behind him. Colley seems to shimmer out of the shadow, as if emerging from a rippling black pool.

I *THINK* I know what’s going on. The white wall was really a blue screen. In the lab, a high-contrast matte was created that reduced the actors and scenery to silhouettes. This new image was shifted up and to the left and inserted in where the blue screen was. Now everything that protrudes beyond the back wall of the set has a very sharp black shadow…

Except, damnit, the shadows show the characters at a slightly different angle to the camera (in the second image, the kneeling actress on the right has a thinner neck in her shadow image, because the light is hitting her from below). The shadow IS being projected from a low angle. So maybe the shadow has been optically enhanced, maybe it was a blue screen and all they’ve done is take a real shadow on it and bump up the contrast to stark b&w? Or else it’s just a real shadow produced with a special magic light on a special magic wall?

It’s driving me NUTS, I tells ya!