El ingenuo salvaje

This Sporting Life may be a touch overlong, but it is overall a truly brilliant movie and still hits hard after all these years. It has a very realistic story, and the characters are given so much depth and realism it is hard not to empathise. The cinematography is wonderful, the setting is truly evocative, the direction is superb and the screenplay truthful and honest. There are many superb scenes, particularly some truly remarkable scenes of confrontation that are honest to the point it verges on painful to listen. As for the acting, Richard Harris and Rachel Roberts really do give the roles of their live in This Sporting Life, and are both absolutely brilliant as the ruthless professional rugby player and repressed widowed landlady with whom he can only communicate with through violence, and they are finely supported by the likes of Alan Badel and William Hartnell. Overall, brilliant film with a great cast and a hard-hitting sense of realism. 9/10 Bethany Cox

"This Sporting Life" is one of the most famous of the British "kitchen sink" dramas of the 1950s and 1960s ("kitchen sink" films were very gritty, social realist films which were very popular in Britain at one time).

Frank Machin (Richard Harris) is a brutal, young miner in a city in northern England. Hoping for fame and fortune, he becomes a successful Rugby League football player. He uses his fame and fortune, along with physical violence, to try to force his widowed landlady (Rachel Roberts) to fall for him.

Photographed in bleak black-and-white, the film's scenes of emotional and physical domestic violence are still shocking today. Also notable are the violent, stylishly-shot rugby matches.

The cast are brilliant without exception, especially Richard Harris who manages to invest even his totally unsympathetic character with some degree of humanity.

Having seen the film several times I can relate to the lifestyle of the characters, I was a child in the sixties and my memories of life back then are reflected in the atmostsphere that the film generates.

I have read various comments about the film looking dated, and yes it does, but it is a true reflection on life at that time.

It is also a great historical piece as many of the towns and sports arena's used in the film have changed drastically or no longer exist.

I particularly remember the MECCA social club in Wakefield and the various coffee bars that surrounded it, Belle Vue where the Rugby League scenes were shot has stayed remarkably unchanged over the years and I still enjoy the atmostsphere as I watch my favourite team Wakefield Trinity Wildcats.

To see the massive cooling towers in the background stirs memories of being there on a Saturday afternoon with my late Father Norman.

I have a real soft spot for this film and I'm sorry that I have concentrated on my memories rather than the films content.

British New Wave auteur Lindsay Anderson's feature debut, a "kitchen sink" drama of the first order, stars Harris as Frank Machin, an aggressive coal-miner-turned-rugby-player in Wakefield, who lodges in with a widow Ms. Margaret Hammond (Roberts) and her two young children. He is a rough diamond type, an indomitable "ape" on the field, but constantly perturbed by dissatisfaction and loneliness, he is pining for being wanted, especially by Margaret, who always gives him cold shoulder over his benevolent advances.

The film starts with intimate close-ups of the men-to-men action during an ongoing game, which echoes with its bleak ending, the same Frank in the field, doing the only thing he is really good at, to continue his life. After a sucker punch knocks him out in cold, he is taken to a dentist to fix his messed-up teeth, under the influence of anesthetic, the narrative begins to alternate between flashbacks and the current time-frame, a tactic sometimes can cause unnecessary confusion, for instance, I cannot ascertain the sequence where he punches a fellow player Len (Watson) happens in the flashback or after the dentist, also why does he do that?

Soon we will know, Frank gets his start with the help of 'Dad' Johnson (Hartnell), an elderly scout for the local rugby league club owner Gerald Weaver (Badel), Anderson subtly implies there is a latent homo-eroticism among the rugby business, not just the graphic roughhousing among macho and burly players, also from 'Dad', whom Margaret observe from their first meeting that his ogling look at Frank means something more than just a friend; and the perpetually suave Mr. Weaver, once impulsively reveals his intention with a seemingly casual pinch on Frank's thigh, which Anderson particularly singles out in intimacy. Although this strand doesn't pan out because of Frank's crass manner and erratic behavior, it certainly validates Anderson's unorthodox perception.

After all, the main selling point is between Frank and Margaret, Harris and Roberts (then still Ms. Rex Harrison, and who would sadly commit suicide in 1980 at the age of 53) both pull out all the stops to elicit possibly their career-best performances. They are both gravely flawed characters, deep inside Frank is solely a naive and insecure boy wanting love albeit his masculine aggression, and Margaret is a damaged good stranded in a traumatic tragedy and barely sustained by the intention to live, thus, his one-sided courtship in her eyes is merely to objectify her as a kept woman, and she eventually complies, but she doesn't love him, she is the one who is incapable of love, because as we audience can testify, Frank is not that bad as a person, yes, he is a volatile woman-beater, an insolent jackass, without too much education, but he has the sense of justice, and he is craving for a reciprocal feeling of being wanted. The only happy moment between them is an outing with two kids, Frank can be a good father figure, but Margaret will never let that happen, both are too obstinate to compromise, Frank can easily choose another object, but no, he will not take no as an answer.

Richard Harris superbly brings about Frank's multifarious personae, he is a blunt force of nature, yet he can also be quietly implosive in haunting close-ups. Like his close friends Richard Burton and Peter O'Toole, he is another British thespian to whom Oscar owes a golden statue. Rachel Roberts, incredibly augments tensions and empathy against her around-the-clock sullen facade and dead inside, fairly enough, both are Oscar-nominated.

Anderson showcases his brilliant expertise of shooting scenes with rapid movements and indoors close-ups, the monochromatic palette effectively adds a layer of fatalism to a rather dispiriting melodrama anchored by two powerhouse performances, truly is one of the best of its time.

Gripping, arresting and totally believable from the start, this is excitingly authentic. The terrible game of rugby league football is beautifully shot in all the horror of its violent thuggery and macho heroism. The streets, the houses, the shops, the pubs, the clubs and the children playing all evoke memories of that admittedly dreary but familiar visions. The living spaces, some cramped and dinged, like mine a that time, and others spacious and exuding that illusive smell of success (or upper class thuggery!) All this is fine and Richard Harris is fully believable as the film's angry young man. It is just that as the, rather overlong, film continues we get less of the 'sporting life' and the 'dead end streets' and more of the 'love' story and rather clumsy stabs at class warfare. In the end we are rather tiring of all the 'I love you', 'I hate you' cries and welcome the closing credit but it is still very much a worth seeing film that probably catches more of what it really felt like to be in Britain late 50s/early 60s than any other film I have seen.