The Home-Made Car

Imagine my joy when purchasing the DVD/Blu-Ray release of the film Lunch Hour to find this cult classic gem included as a bonus feature – the obvious link is that both have the same director – James Hill – (not, presumably, the beardwonderful former television football pundit). The availability of Lunch Hour on Blu-Ray baffled me – but the inclusion of The Home- Made Car and two other early and equally rare James Hill colour films, Skyhook and Giuseppina, made this release make sense. The Home Made Car is about a young, mechanically minded car enthusiast who buys a scrap bull-nosed Morris from a junk yard at an exorbitant price and proceeds to restore it to concours standard in the unbelievable comfort of his home garage with the bare minimum of tools in less than 28 minutes; (imagine Wheeler Dealers but with a little less bullshit), limited knowledge; the distraction of the girl next door (Penelope Mortimer, in a selection of delightful flared skirts and dresses, including a gorgeous pleated skirt and heels, setting off for work at, conveniently, and far too parochially, the office of the local BP garage); her kid sister who is a dead shot with a water pistol, and, crucially, the assistance of the proprietor of same local BP filling station – a skilled mechanic, blacksmith and artisan. I say crucially because the film was commissioned by British Petroleum (aka Bullshit Promotions) to promote their image globally (that's why nobody speaks a word in this film). What it actually ended up becoming was a "trade test transmission" used by the BBC to promote the advent of colour television transmissions; and it was screened as such on countless occasions until its final transmission ((as legend would appear to have it) on 23rd August 1973)). Technically, that argument falls flat, because colour, and our perception of it, is subjective not objective – hence its replacement with what we now know and has entered into yet more legend as "Test Card F" (we should not let our imaginations run riot too extensively on what the "F" stood for) – an attractive pre-pubescent girl engaged in what must surely be a fruitless game of noughts and crosses with a potentially psychopathically frightening stuffed toy surrounded by a selection of numbers and geometric lines and five shades of grey presumably intended to assist knob-twiddlers in their twiddling to made medeiaval colour tellies perform to the best of their limited abilities. This film thus entered the landscape of legend - helped by the fact that the BBC never announced beforehand when the film was to be shown – one therefore had to sit in front of a TV set tuned to BBC2 for hours on end (during the daytime, when you should be either at WORK or at SCHOOL) (thus ensuring a bond between the potential viewer and this film's hero) and hope this one got shown. Thusly, I don't think I ever saw it from beginning to end. Recordings of this film were rarer than rocking horse urine – I mean – who - apart from Bob Monkhouse and Bob Crane - owned a video recorder in 1973? Needless to say our hero wins his babe – her former beau failing the "door service" test (although being in possession of the far more valuable and much prettier car – an Austin Healey 3000). Watch this film and marvel at the street our hero lives on – it's wider than the Heathrow to M4 section of the M25, but with considerably fewer parked cars (three, as I recall) and only the errant rag and bone gentleman with his hayburner and cart to constitute "traffic". My only quibble with this film is why hasn't our hero got to get up in the morning and go to work like everyone else and can spend hours working on his car? If he is unemployed and receiving benefits, then his exploits, however noble or industrious, should not be celebrated or glamourized, let alone allow him to become the cult star of a hitherto unobtainable movie. We can only hope that, at the conclusion, our hero, his work on his car completed, may now join the rest of the majority of the human race in a mundane and underpaid job for which he will receive the minimum reward for the maximum labour, but, as we must surely deduce, he cannot be anything other than a newly qualified school teacher: we can tell that on his first day of term his fantastic car will be parked alongside the headmaster's Jaguar Mk 2 and the games teacher's Austin A30 and that these will be the only vehicles in the school's massive car park. We also know that when he addresses his first class the little sister of next door's big girlfriend will be sitting in the middle of the back row smirking at him - this film really is that good – and really that good at foretelling the future.

Its interesting to read comments on this film I veg tried to purchase this from BP Films but Im told its not available but maybe in the future I thought after all the comments read that there would be a market for selling this however there must be some problems .Reason for my interest I use to be a TV engineer in the 60's and watch all the trade test films then I suppose nostalgia brings me to want to watch it again after what 40 odd years.Good stuff.This film together with the BP 'Plastics'film is typical of the film presented for colour quality at the time I wonder if any one has a 16mm or VHS /dvd copy of this they know of for sale.Maybe I will have to wait until they are available on the open market.

My father-in-law owned - and still owns - the Morris Oxford car featured in this film. The chassis of another car he was restoring at the time - a 1916 Perry - was used in place of the Morris chassis, as he wasn't prepared to dismantle the car for the purposes of the film! He has a 16mm print of the film and also VHS tapes which were supplied by BP. For the preview of the film at Shell-Mex House in the Strand, the car was taken to London and displayed in the building. He is amazed at the number of people who are still interested in this film, its actors and locations, and is in touch with some of them. The car is kept in running order though not currently on the road.

And I thought I was the only person in Britain who remembered this quirky little film, I wrote to BP and they still supply copies of their films at cost on request so I have now got my own copy I never tire of naming all the cars you see in the backgrounds of the shots, I had spotted that the chassis on the handcart wasn't a Bullnose Morris but I had guessed at a Ford of some type because of the spring perches, guess I,m just an anorak when it comes to cars of my youth, I think there was another short film called Boolong and Boater or something like that featuring two fishermen in an outboard powered dugout canoe. Plus the scrapyard scenes are exactly as I remember scrapyard where like even down to the pouring rain.

Fresh from winning an Academy Award for his short film 'Giuseppina' - which detailed the comings and goings around an Italian petrol station - James Hill came closer to home to Weybridge in the Home Counties to deliver this little bon-bon depicting the activities of a young lad labouring away in his garage like any self-respecting English eccentric on a vintage car.

Fondly remembered as a trade test colour film used to fill gaps in the schedules during the early days of colour television, the noisy little sports car driven by our hero's flashy adversary today looks as much a period piece as the home-made car of the title.