Sparrows Can't Sing

"Awful stuff, Painful to sit through" - I agree. This has nothing to make it worth watching other than a few period details, such as the prices on the fruit and veg stall, the the outside lavatory (Roy Kinnear uses it) and the streets, although people of a certain generation who enjoyed "On The Buses", "Man About The House" and George & Mildred" might like seeing the early work of the actors who appeared in those television series.

Well it all starts rather inauspiciously with Barbara Windsor singing the Lionel Bart penned title song. Good? Well, no - not very. Thereafter we discover that she ("Maggie") used to be married to "Charlie" (James Booth) who has just returned from being at sea. Thing is, their marital house has been demolished and she has moved on to a new life with bus driver "Bert" (George Sewell) and he is determined to get her back. The whole thing has a made for television look to it and though there is a formidable array of British comic acting talent on display, I found the writing to be really weak with the limitations of Miss Windsor as an actress being writ large as she really struggles to carry this (very lightly) comedic enterprise - riddled with innuendo and stereotype - for ninety minutes. It perhaps doesn't help that the narrative centres around life in a fairly pedestrian East End (of London) community and that after a short while there are so many suds you could run a Chinese laundry for a fortnight. It may well have resonated better in 1963 when it offered a plausible depiction of life in a small, tightly knit, community within a big city, but I am afraid now it has lost what potency it had. Cinema nostalgia it probably is if Cockney is your natural dialect. For the rest of us, it's just all rather dull.

Derived from her own Stratford East stage show, this Joan Littlewood film apparently did no better than its non celluloid counterpart. Now it appears fresh, confident and so evocative but I have never seen it before and like many, I suppose, wouldn't have been the slightest bit interested at age 16 in 1963 with the Beatles and all that was to follow. Seen now, however, with all that location shooting and streets that are gone depicted so well. And what irony! The fabulous extended opening shows our hero/villain returning from sea to find his wife and cannot even find his house. Bulldozed slums, replaced by brand new 18 storey blocks of flats and even they bulldozed in turn in 2000. Back to the film and it is non stop believable banter and jesting. The film does not let up once and only in the final splendid sequence in the pub do we see a trace of the theatrical origins. For anyone who has ever visited or lived in London, absolutely essential. For every one else, well worth seeing to get just a glimpse of the old East End and just an inkling of what it really was once like when everybody seemed to know almost everyone else.

"'E didn't say, "Dear, you're divine". Nor did 'e say, "Darling, be mine". So why do I see in 'im everything. Well, sparrers, poor sparrers, pretty sparrers can't sing". Love is ever eternally complicated. A personable journey of adoration. Those externally looking at a relationship, judging on what has outwardly happened, including domestic violence, will criticise. Yet the two individuals comprising of the relationship realise the true potential and experience the abundance of feelings they have for one another. The same can be said for Cockney sailor Charlie, whom returns home to the East End of London after a long voyage, only to find his wife living with another man. His usual foul temper is tested as he attempts reconciliation with Maggie in order to pursue a new loving life with her.

Littlewood's adaptation of the '60 kitchen sink play relishes in representing Cockney life. From the community of Jewish tradesmen, spivs and youthful "tarts" to iconic establishments such as local pubs. All capitalising on Lewis' dialogue-intensive screenplay that blends Cockney rhyming slang ("dog and bone"), London Yiddish ("bubbe") and thieves' cant ("bowsing ken"). Streamlining a plot that originally revolved around improvisational techniques to produce the quaint comedy that plagued 60s productions. For those unaccustomed to such language, it is undoubtedly difficult to follow. An infamous challenge that made history by being the first English language film to be released with subtitles in the United States. Whilst the babble of slang is often incomprehensible, particularly the comedic moments, it provided authenticity to the cobbled streets of Limehouse. Accompanied by Littlewood's locational set pieces, Sparrows Can't Sing truly embodied East End life by sifting through each character to create a sense of community. A time when everyone would say "alrite mate?" to each other instead of shrouding themselves in ignorance. Arguably a happier time.

The problem with the constant shifting of character focus, is that there really is no direction from a cinematic perspective. The central story between Charlie and Maggie is so menial and derivative due to the avoidance of confrontation, that Littlewood spends most of the runtime exploring the East End by showcasing conversations from other individuals residing in various backgrounds. Fred, Bridgie and Charlie arguing amongst themselves in a family dispute. Nellie being enchanted by two blokes named Georgie and Chunky. Jack wandering around with his canary. Lewis himself portraying a prudish caretaker, and a plethora of other characters all yearn for the spotlight. When the feature decides to eventually realign its focus towards Maggie and Charlie, it's too little too late. Their character development was almost non-existent by the concluding argument, not to mention the definition of loyalty being a product of its time (no way would she go back to an abuser now...).

Windsor offers a sterling and commanding performance as the metaphorical sparrow whom cannot sing, nearly exerting her legendary giggle from the 'Carry On' franchise. Although, would've preferred a "Get outta ma pub!" attitude. Booth exudes devilish charm with unpredictability, similar to Del Boy in the popular sitcom 'Only Fools and Horses'. In fact, the supporting cast were well suited to the East End life with their poignantly exaggerated slangs.

However the insignificance of the central story, equipped with brashly edited quick cuts and false whimsicality, grounds this sparrow to a subterranean level of engagement. A watchable breezy adaptation that appreciates the setting more than the characters. Lewis' kitchen sink play functions better as a theatre production than it does a cinematic endeavour.

I saw this film when it first came out; it got very bad reviews at the time and most of my friends hated it, but I loved it then and have been haunted by the theme song ever since. For a while it was impossible to find any references to it--in fact, this is the first database where I have found the title or any information about it, though I have checked a number of commercial sites trying to find it on video. I still remember it as a charming (somewhat sentimental) and very funny comedy of a type that the British film industry did very well at that time. More recently their best work is more in a surreal or caricatural mode (such as _Cold Comfort Farm_, which is brilliant in its own way), but _The Full Monty_ caught some of the charm of the kind of comedies of everyday life that I think _Sparrows Can't Sing_ was one of. Now I just wish I could see it again.