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June Ritchie makes this story work. She gives an unaffected portrayal of a young woman needing to overcome her vulnerability with a combination of guile and passive aggression. It's the truest and most honest performance in the film. Bates is a star, Ritchie works a miracle. James bolam is quietly brilliant and. The supporting cast is of the salt of the earth type of genius available to directors at that time. I did not read the book but I feel the this movie version makes the task unnecessary.? What a great period of story telling this was. Bates was wonderful on film but on stage he was even more special. I was lucky to experience both. His hamlet. Though forgotten, was so pure, so honest, so sexy.

There's a frustrated young man, name of Vic, from a pool of young ladies he's picked, Ingrid Rothwell's her name, with a blonde flowing mane, she's the lass with whom he wants to tick. Ingrid's just as fond of this lad, now he's making advances she's glad, but he runs hot and cold, wants to do more than hold, so she lets him explore and un-clads. No surprise as nature takes its course, with a marriage hastily brought forth, which Vic starts to abhor, lives with Mother-in-Law, and his compass no longer points north.

Great dialogue, great performances, in a perpetually told tale of the ages, where the outcomes invariably reflect the times when the drama takes place, and leave you grateful for the times you live in today - I think it's called progress.

This is a wonderful exploration of a young man's misgivings about being attached. It explores issues of manhood and love with great sincerity and sensitivity. Alan Bates is at his best here and the whole cast hits the mark under a careful eye. I think it is optimistic in its depiction, but most of all honest. The language is impeccable. How can you go wrong with lines such as "I am your husband if you did but know it"? Whistle Down the Wind is another with Bates in top form. Worth a look.

Hormonal trainee draughtsman Alan Bates fancies nice-but-dim typist June Ritchie.Er,that's about it really.Formula kitchen sink plot,sub-sub John Osborne/John Braine characters.Sit and watch it in the 3/9d seats whilst stuffing your face with Smith's crisp(watch out for the little blue bag containing salt) and smoking your "Strand".Turn off your brain and put your hand on your girl friend's knee.Well,that's what I did in 1963,but after about 3 minutes screen time I realised I was watching something exceptional.Somehow John Schlesinger had turned this sow's ear into a beautifully observed,moving life-affirming work of art. As an entity this film is so much better than the sum of its parts. The plaintive brass band music adds immeasurably to the atmosphere. June Ritchie is heartbreaking as the naive Ingrid and Alan Bates gives what is arguably his best film performance. The exteriors are well-chosen,the photography elegaic. All the elements for a clichefest are present,but,dammit,it turns into a tour de force.

alongside Saturday Night & Sunday Morning and a Taste of Honey this is a great companion piece. Alan Bates is superb as a draughtsman in a busy factory and June Ritchie brings a tender portrayal as the object of Vics(Bates) desire. Thora Hird as the mother in law from hell is quite frightening and her scene with Vic Brown being sick behind her sofa is a classic. you filthy pig you filthy disgusting pig

You can feel her loathing. Some great support from Jack Smethhurst and the always excellent James Bolam. The scene that I favour is where Vic is getting bored with his situation and tries to get sympathy from his sister, his sister suddenly turns on him and tells him to get his life sorted, made bed lie on it etc. An absolutely fantastic slice of early 1960,s life.