"Oh how I loathe adventurous-minded boys!"
Eccentric boys' adventure writer Felix H Wilkinson (Sim) has his copy - "The Enthralling Adventures of Selwyn Pike and his Youthful Assistant Smiler" - altered by master crooks, using a special code through the pages of kids' comic 'Trump'. Only sharp-eyed schoolboy Joe Kirby (Fowler) seems to have noticed, but fails to convince a sceptical Detective Inspector Ford (Lambert).
Undeterred, Kirby enlists the help of a gang of bombsite-dwelling little cockneys, the self-styled 'Blood and Thunder Boys' to up-end the criminals' dastardly plans. Wilkinson is persuaded to alter his copy and catch the robbers, headed by Kirby's boss Nightingale (Warner, cast against type as a baddie), and Trump secretary Rhona Watson (White).
Originally billed with the slogan, "The Ealing film that begs to differ", Hue And Cry is less a comedy (actually, it's Ealing Studios' first acknowledged 'comedy') than a thrilling adventure story for older kids; the occasional punch-up scenes are peculiarly realistic. Director Crichton weaves a fantastic, but bizarrely believable yarn, helped no end by his unsentimental, dedicated cast.
The standout performer is Sim, whose potty writer, despite limited screen time, pretty much waltzes off with the entire picture - whether he's castigating the crooks ("The insolent scoundrels, they've purloined one of my codes - the very code I invented for the 'Case of the Limping Skeleton!'") or tremulously backing out of the deal ("Remember what happened to Nicky the Narc in the 'Case of the Creeping Death'?").
Acclaimed cinematographer Dougie Slocombe makes great use of post-Blitz London locations, including Holborn Viaduct, Docklands, and Covent Garden - particularly for the climactic scenes of hundreds of boys teeming Battleship Potemkin-fashion down the capital's steps toward the scene of the crime. While an almost incidental scene of a small boy re-enacting an aerial dogfight on a bombsite leaves viewers in no doubt about the psychological impact of the World War II on a new generation.
Undeterred, Kirby enlists the help of a gang of bombsite-dwelling little cockneys, the self-styled 'Blood and Thunder Boys' to up-end the criminals' dastardly plans. Wilkinson is persuaded to alter his copy and catch the robbers, headed by Kirby's boss Nightingale (Warner, cast against type as a baddie), and Trump secretary Rhona Watson (White).
Originally billed with the slogan, "The Ealing film that begs to differ", Hue And Cry is less a comedy (actually, it's Ealing Studios' first acknowledged 'comedy') than a thrilling adventure story for older kids; the occasional punch-up scenes are peculiarly realistic. Director Crichton weaves a fantastic, but bizarrely believable yarn, helped no end by his unsentimental, dedicated cast.
The standout performer is Sim, whose potty writer, despite limited screen time, pretty much waltzes off with the entire picture - whether he's castigating the crooks ("The insolent scoundrels, they've purloined one of my codes - the very code I invented for the 'Case of the Limping Skeleton!'") or tremulously backing out of the deal ("Remember what happened to Nicky the Narc in the 'Case of the Creeping Death'?").
Acclaimed cinematographer Dougie Slocombe makes great use of post-Blitz London locations, including Holborn Viaduct, Docklands, and Covent Garden - particularly for the climactic scenes of hundreds of boys teeming Battleship Potemkin-fashion down the capital's steps toward the scene of the crime. While an almost incidental scene of a small boy re-enacting an aerial dogfight on a bombsite leaves viewers in no doubt about the psychological impact of the World War II on a new generation.
- Ali_John_Catterall
- 14 nov 2009