Le gang des tueurs

Brighton Rock is directed by John Boulting and written by Graham Greene (also 1938 novel) and Terence Rattigan. Produced by Roy Boulting, it stars Richard Attenborough, Carol Marsh, William Hartnell, Hermione Baddeley, Harcourt Williams and Wylie Watson. Music is scored by Hans May and cinematography is by Harry Waxman. Plot finds Attenborough as small time Brighton hoodlum Pinkie Brown, whose attempts to cover up a murder sees events spiral out of control for himself and those closest to him.

1947 was a good year for tough, gritty British drama, in fact it was a key year in the progression of British cinema. It was the year that would see the release of They Made Me A Fugitive, It Always Rains On Sunday, Odd Man Out and Brighton Rock. The latter film, arguably the one that looks the most dated, is the one that shocked the most upon its release. Refreshing, then, to find that in spite of the aged edges of the narrative frame, it still today has a power, a bleakness, that justifies the classic status afforded it. Part seedy seaside noir, part character driven observation on Catholic guilt and torment, Brighton Rock overcomes some slight old time technical flaws to thrive on thematic potency and a tense narrative.

Many authors find their respective work losing impetus during the translation to the big screen, Graham Greene is one who hasn't had to suffer in that department. Key issue for those adapting his work is to understand the characterisations at work, thankfully the Boulting brothers grasp that Pinkie Brown, surely one of Greene's greatest creations, has a complexity that needs him front and centre of the brewing maelstrom. The plot then tumbles out around him, as the seedy underbelly of Brighton's everyday life is exposed. The casting of Attenborough as Pinkie was a masterstroke, fresh faced and wide eyed, Attenborough plays it as coiled spring like, his psychosis troubling and ready to explode at any given moment. His cold hearted relationship with the homely, desperate for love, Rose (Marsh), is utterly disturbing, and it's that relationship that underpins the story.

Story is set amongst two sides of Brighton, one side is sunny, full of lights, fun-fairs and candy floss, the other features grimy boarding houses, penny café's and loud back street beer houses. The neat trick the Boulting's pull is that we know the sunny side is merely a facade to darker forces, much of the badness is played out to the backdrop of seaside frivolity and relaxation. With the iconic pier serving as a dual witness to both the good and bad side of Brighton's current denizens. Aided by Waxman's oppressive photography, J Boulting paints in claustrophobic strokes, perfectly enveloping the lead protagonists in a number of restrictive set-ups, where the surroundings deftly match the mood of the individual. It's going to end bad, it has too, the atmosphere tells us that, but the makers are reveling in tightening the noose one turn at a time, and that's a sure fire bonus for film noir lovers.

Film is well cast across the board, with Hartnell most notable as Pinkie gang member, Dallow, while Baddeley as Pinkie's bold and brassy adversary, Ida Arnold, is suitably annoying. Memorable characters, one and all, each one serving to add fuel to Attenborough's malevolent fire. How great it is to also take away a number of memorable scenes from the movie. From the pulse raising chase at the beginning; to the weird and haunting brutality of a ghost train sequence, and to the cruel finale that drips with cynicism, it's a film that refuses to leave the conscious after the credits have rolled. The ending may have been toned down from that of the novel, but what remains still bites hard, as does, in truth, the whole film. 9/10

If Richard Attenborough hadn't been careful in his choice of roles he might very well have been typecast as a stone cold killer the rest of his career. It was the same problem that Richard Widmark had after Kiss Of Death. In Brighton Rock, Attenborough is absolutely riveting and charismatic as gang leader Pinkie Brown.

In the British seaside resort town of Brighton, Attenborough and his cronies run a protection racket and are being muscled by another gang who wants to take over their territory. In America this would call for a public machine gun blasting, but in the United Kingdom they do things in a bit more subtle way. After a prolonged chase through Brighton, Attenborough nails one of the other gang members Alan Wheatley in a fun house tunnel ride where there's even question that Wheatley might have slipped and fallen on his own.

But there are questions and Hermione Baddely is raising them, having been with Wheatley before he died and knowing how scared he was. There's also a witness after the fact who could destroy his alibi, a young and very innocent waitress played by Carol Marsh.

The reason Brighton Rock works so well is the terrifying portrait of Attenborough as a killer. Attenborough has to be a charismatic figure or the older members of his group would not be looking to him as the leader. They fear him too, but eventually the fear takes over the sway he has on the group.

Carol Marsh is good in her part. She's such an innocent, a Trilby like creature who Attenborough works like a Svengali over and gets her actually to marry him, just so she can't give evidence against him in Wheatley's murder. But when a couple more deaths occur, Marsh is frightened, but still entranced with Attenborough.

The final climax on the Brighton pier is as terrifying as any noir film you might see in America at that time. It even eclipses Wheatley's demise earlier which is also a highlight. Brighton Rock holds very well after 62 years and compares very well with some of the best American noir films of the time.

I recently screened a very old, worn 16mm print of this film in our local pub and it went down a storm.

Richard Attenborough is screen dynamite as ruthless, petulant Pinkie Brown, the driven, teenage gangster. Carol Marsh also excels as the downtrodden Rose, Pinkie's young bride. Also worthy of a mention is Hermione Baddeley who is a scream as the brash, common Ida Arnold who shrieks like a harpie when supping Gin but has a heart of gold.

This is a great creaky, old British film and has a perfect cast. The final scene is especially touching when a technical error prevents poor little Rose from learning the truth about Pinkie's feelings for her.

Go see!

I just saw this picture courtesy of a local rental store which has a number of Btitish films otherwise not available. Wow!

Absolutely excellent in all departments. Attenborough gives a standout performance as Pinky and is surrounded by a sterling cast working at the same high level. The film is beautifully photographed in a way which gives texture to the story and reality to the characters. This must be one of the top British films of the Forties and can stand beside anything Hollywood was doing at the time (or any time for that matter.)

The script is credited to Graham Greene (based on his Novel) and, the unlikely seeming, Terence Rattigan (Separate Tables, Winslow Boy et al). Without knowing who contributed what to the final screenplay, I can say that it is a beautiful and coherent piece of work that has character development as well as terse and atmospheric dialog that keeps the viewer engrossed and the tension high.

Recommended (especially to fans of film noir)

"I never knew the old" Brighton "before the war" with its razor-slashing protectionist race gangs, crooked lawyers and ineffective police. We seldom travelled out of London. "I really got to know it in" those post-war days of safe family holidays by the sea - the excitement of the beach, ice cream sodas on the West Pier, cinemas in the evening.....

(No prize for recognising my reference to the opening of the great film that appeared two years later!)

Part of my fascination with the 1947 "Brighton Rock" is of course affection for a place I grew to love and know so well during the course of many happy vacations with my parents in those far-off days. I was even drawn to eventually settle in a sort of mini-Brighton complete with Regency squares and balconies and the sound of screaming seagulls, 37 miles along the coast to the east. But I digress.....What particularly surprised me on a recent viewing of the film was not only how well it has worn, but the extreme darkness of its nightmare vision of a gangster-ridden society. For a British film of the late '40's it is unusually violent and shot through with a bleakness that outstrips much of the Hollywood noir of the period. Was there ever a more vicious young thug than Richard Attenborough's enormously effective portrayal of the 17 year old Pinkie Brown who runs his protectionist racket from a seedy backstreet dwelling? Pointless to write at length when so much has already been written. (An excellent user comment on this site from laika-lives says it all). Simply let me record my admiration for the Boulting Brothers, especially John the director, for demonstrating an understanding of pacing and montage that almost equals the best work of the great Carol Reed, particularly in the terrific opening quarter of an hour when the unfortunate and terrified Fred is finally tracked down to meet his doom on the Ghost Train at the end of Palace Pier. They don't seem to do sequences like this with such style any more. A good enough reason, I would have thought, for shunning a recent remake!