La sangre es siempre roja

This is one of the most shocking films ever made about the true depths of colour prejudice in Britain in the 1950s, and the violent hatreds of black people harboured at that time by the white British working classes, especially in London. The film is well-scripted, and boldly directed by Basil Dearden, and it shows without flinching the true state of feeling as it was in those days (with some strong anti-white prejudice by blacks thrown in, to demonstrate that things are never only one way). What is so utterly horrifying about watching all of this now is, that it really was all true then. It is inevitable that some of the characters both white and black should resemble stereotypes, perhaps for the reason that at that time, people genuinely were stereotypes. The story concerns a police investigation of a murder of a young girl who was a student at the Royal Academy of Music (half way through the film a policeman calls it the Royal College of Music; Londoners are always confusing the two separate institutions in that way, so perhaps this script flaw merely reflects real life). Her body is found on Hampstead Heath in London, and there are no clues apart from the initial 'S' (her name is eventually discovered to be Sapphire). As a crime investigation thriller, the film is solid and extremely well done. A spectacular cameo performance is given by the black actor Robert Adams as 'Horace Big Cigar', not long before he died. The acting is all reliable and convincing. Dearden is especially good at not allowing any of the women and children to scream when discovering a body or having a horrible experience: his technique was extremely subtle, and they instead stifle screams, a scream begins to form, and then they put their own hands over their mouths in horror. When identifying a corpse, the actor behaves as one would naturally do, with numb paralysed shock, remaining silent and staring. All the ridiculous Hollywood histrionics and stock reactions of approved hysteria and screaming females are eliminated from this very British film, in which there is no place for hysteria except with one black character who panics for story reasons. Sociologists should really see this film. However, it is so incendiary that I cannot see it ever being released again or even being shown on television, at least not in Britain. In fact, some of the comments in the film may even have become 'illegal' under the harsh new race relations laws, even in a fictional context! Anyone who thinks race problems have gone away does not know human nature. Sensitivity to small differences, such as skin colour, is so firmly rooted in animal behaviour (the isolation by the herd of the black sheep, the driving away of albino animals from the pack), that race hatreds are inescapable, and can only be suppressed, never eradicated. Seeing this film reminds one of this depressing aspect of life by a blatant portrayal of it which is almost too painful to watch.

I'm watching this 60 years after it was filmed, and I'm saying to myself: "This movie might as well have been premiered yesterday!" Sure, it has that old style "whodunnit" feel to it, and sure it is dated by musical and fashion standards (and by next-to-zero traffic in Sheppard's Bush), but it is assuredly a solid piece of Cinema which at the same time tackles pressing societal issues. On another note, it struck me as an outstanding piece of "britishness", as opposed to the usual USA-style murder/mystery/thriller because of: 1) A couple of children and a woman find the dead body, but there are no hysterical shrieks; 2) Everybody is polite, even the bandits; 3) No shots are fired; ...which is also a reminder that a good thriller doesn't necessarily require action-packed sequences of gunshots and fistfights.

I was amazed by the shocking brutality of the racism in this film. In America, we are rarely presented with such casual racism; in films of the 50s, race is practically never dealt with in films, as Todd Haynes "remake" of Douglas Sirk's All That Heaven Allows tries to make up for. And current films about the 50s present such two dimensional characters that it is easy to tell the racist villains from the open-minded heroes. In Sapphire, filmed in Britain in the 1950s, one of the most interesting characters is Michael Craig's detective, supposedly our hero, but constantly making racist remarks. His comments are always countered by the more reasonable older inspector, but this allows his gradual transformation throughout the film. Although some of the film is a bit heavy-handed, ultimately the message is sadly still relevant. 4 out of 5.

SAPPHIRE (UK 1959) takes a honest and brutally realistic approach to racism: it exists in everyone, white, black or of mixed race. Sadly, that continues to be the case today even if now intermarriage is more acceptable and no longer prevents people renting accommodation, joining creches or schools, and it is less visibly frowned upon.

Director Basil Dearden had already distinguished himself with social comment films as THE BLUE LAMP (UK 1950), in which Dirk Bogarde plays an unrepentant criminal hunted by police in postwar London, THE SQUARE RING (UK 1953), which does not pull any punches analyzing the brutality of boxing and of the people in it, and VIOLENT PLAYGROUND (UK 1958), an ongoing duel between police and an arsonist.

Pity that six decades later racism remains a problem everywhere, and the movie industry, and life in general, continues to try to address that problem with the mendacity of political correctness.

SAPPHIRE does well to show how limited we, the human race, are in dealing with that issue. Even policemen like Learoyd (Michael Craig) are racist at heart, so there is an institutional side to the problem, too.

Direction is very good, although it allows characterization to go over the top in some cases; color photography is outstanding; screenplay is concise and objective; and acting reflects the high competence for which British filmmaking of the 1940s-1960s period was famous for, although I thought Yvonne Mitchell a little bit too unnecessarily hysterical in the key scene in which Sapphire's dark-skinned brother handles a child's doll.

Nigel Patrick's acting is particularly praiseworthy. Detective Hazard (odd surname, nothing hazardous about his character or actions) is an extremely professional, restrained, and experienced policeman standing as the emotional stabilizer in a film of many social and racial angles. He is seldom critical, he just wants justice done regardless of who must pay.

In light of mankind's above mentioned limitations, I suppose that, however incomplete, the pursuit of justice is the best, most practical solution to the continuing problem of racism in today's society, and it is to this film's credit that it highlights it at a time when the UK was beginning to receive a large number of people of other races from its former colonies.

In some ways, SAPPHIRE is well ahead of its time, and it remains very much up to date today.

At first glance, SAPPHIRE seems to be your usual police procedural murder mystery thriller, with the superintendent and his supporting inspector (both played with bullish charm by Nigel Patrick and Michael Craig) investigating the discovery of a murdered girl in the local park. Indeed, their investigations initially take them down the usual alleyways as they explore the girl's social group, her relationship with a local lad, and some less-than-salubrious locations she was involved with.

However, where SAPPHIRE becomes something much, much more is in its context: race relations in Britain, circa 1959. It turns out that Sapphire herself was actually of mixed race, despite looking white. The discovery of her racial origins underpins the whole story and it's up to Patrick and Craig to unpin the build up to her brutal death. This is a shocking film, exploring the ugly face of racism in its matter-of-fact hatred of blacks and their creed. There's something grippingly realistic about it which makes it all the better film.

The supporting cast is very well picked. Nobody does shifty better than Paul Massie, the primary murder suspect. Earl Cameron is the model of race and refinement as the dead girl's brother. Yvonne Mitchell is superbly twitchy and Bernard Miles convincingly bigoted. Robert Adams supplies the one moment of true humour with his great cameo as Horace Big Cigar. As a film, SAPPHIRE is never less than thoroughly impressive, working well as a piece of social history as well as a fine detective story.