Le prix d'un homme

Gripping, arresting and totally believable from the start, this is excitingly authentic. The terrible game of rugby league football is beautifully shot in all the horror of its violent thuggery and macho heroism. The streets, the houses, the shops, the pubs, the clubs and the children playing all evoke memories of that admittedly dreary but familiar visions. The living spaces, some cramped and dinged, like mine a that time, and others spacious and exuding that illusive smell of success (or upper class thuggery!) All this is fine and Richard Harris is fully believable as the film's angry young man. It is just that as the, rather overlong, film continues we get less of the 'sporting life' and the 'dead end streets' and more of the 'love' story and rather clumsy stabs at class warfare. In the end we are rather tiring of all the 'I love you', 'I hate you' cries and welcome the closing credit but it is still very much a worth seeing film that probably catches more of what it really felt like to be in Britain late 50s/early 60s than any other film I have seen.

Frank Machin is an amateur rugby league player in Yorkshire. Ambitious within the sport, Frank pushes himself in front of the local scouts and soon is signed to one of the professional clubs and able to hold out for £1000 down to join. As he rises within his own world, Frank has more resources and more opportunity but a strained affair with his landlady Margaret and his inability to shake off his basic roots see him frustrated and pained with his journey.

Like many others have said in relation to this film, British cinema did have something at one point. The "Free Cinema" movement of the 1950's gave a home to a slightly more realistic form of cinema and, although I do not like all within that "movement" that I have seen, I do think that Anderson's work with that paved the way for this. At times the film is too keen to revel in the depiction of working class England but this isn't too much and perhaps, if you think of the context of the period (where such views were not the norm) then you can perhaps understand why. However the power of the film is less in its depiction of the working class work (although this is indeed of value) but more in the convincing exploration of the character of Frank.

Here is a man who has aspirations but seems unable to reconcile these goals to be "better" with the fact that he is from the working classes and doesn't fit with those above him. Likewise he needs affection, love and intimacy but his outward emotions are much cruder and he is quick to lose his temper and resort to violence as the simplest reaction. It is a well written script and it doesn't push the characters or emotions past where they would naturally go for the sake of the film; you can see this in the conclusion which is meaningful and ultimately quite downbeat. Anderson's direction is suitably gritty and natural for the material, but it was Harris that impressed me most.

His performance can be mistaken for being a bit showy and loud and some viewers have made that call. However for me this was his character's boorishness, a quality that he sinks into with ease. However where Harris really does his best work is in the moments just before this happens, or immediately afterwards where, without words, we can often see this struggle, this conflict within himself. It is hard for me to describe here in words so think how difficult it must be to do as an actor but Harris pulls it off. He is well supported by Roberts and they share some excellent scenes. Smaller roles are also well filled with natural turns from the likes of Hartnell, Lowe, Blakely and others; but the film is Harris'.

Not perfect and perhaps a little longer than it can sustain, this is an impressive film. The working class depiction does seem a bit heavy at times through modern eyes but in the emotion and development of the characters the film is hard to really question. Engaging, well written and well delivered – like others have said, where are the British classics like this now? Four Weddings? Do me a favour...

There's a very angry lad by name of Frank, miner by day, weekends he's down the flank, quite a vile kind of guy, couldn't like him if you tried, if he had a chain you'd give it a good yank. He lodges with a lady Mrs. Hammond, he rants and raves, and issues her demands, of how to live her life, causing conflict, grief and strife, he's just desperate to ensnare, to trap, then bond. A chance to become pro, is signed and sealed, gives him money he can brandish, ply and wield, force landlady to his ways, bullies her until she lays, she's defenceless, has no cover, she has no shield.

One of the most dislikeable characters you're likely to come across, brilliantly performed by Richard Harris, who only occasionally reminds us of his native brogue, while he destroys the life of his landlady, superbly performed by Rachel Roberts. It's just a shame that people like this still exist today.

British New Wave auteur Lindsay Anderson's feature debut, a "kitchen sink" drama of the first order, stars Harris as Frank Machin, an aggressive coal-miner-turned-rugby-player in Wakefield, who lodges in with a widow Ms. Margaret Hammond (Roberts) and her two young children. He is a rough diamond type, an indomitable "ape" on the field, but constantly perturbed by dissatisfaction and loneliness, he is pining for being wanted, especially by Margaret, who always gives him cold shoulder over his benevolent advances.

The film starts with intimate close-ups of the men-to-men action during an ongoing game, which echoes with its bleak ending, the same Frank in the field, doing the only thing he is really good at, to continue his life. After a sucker punch knocks him out in cold, he is taken to a dentist to fix his messed-up teeth, under the influence of anesthetic, the narrative begins to alternate between flashbacks and the current time-frame, a tactic sometimes can cause unnecessary confusion, for instance, I cannot ascertain the sequence where he punches a fellow player Len (Watson) happens in the flashback or after the dentist, also why does he do that?

Soon we will know, Frank gets his start with the help of 'Dad' Johnson (Hartnell), an elderly scout for the local rugby league club owner Gerald Weaver (Badel), Anderson subtly implies there is a latent homo-eroticism among the rugby business, not just the graphic roughhousing among macho and burly players, also from 'Dad', whom Margaret observe from their first meeting that his ogling look at Frank means something more than just a friend; and the perpetually suave Mr. Weaver, once impulsively reveals his intention with a seemingly casual pinch on Frank's thigh, which Anderson particularly singles out in intimacy. Although this strand doesn't pan out because of Frank's crass manner and erratic behavior, it certainly validates Anderson's unorthodox perception.

After all, the main selling point is between Frank and Margaret, Harris and Roberts (then still Ms. Rex Harrison, and who would sadly commit suicide in 1980 at the age of 53) both pull out all the stops to elicit possibly their career-best performances. They are both gravely flawed characters, deep inside Frank is solely a naive and insecure boy wanting love albeit his masculine aggression, and Margaret is a damaged good stranded in a traumatic tragedy and barely sustained by the intention to live, thus, his one-sided courtship in her eyes is merely to objectify her as a kept woman, and she eventually complies, but she doesn't love him, she is the one who is incapable of love, because as we audience can testify, Frank is not that bad as a person, yes, he is a volatile woman-beater, an insolent jackass, without too much education, but he has the sense of justice, and he is craving for a reciprocal feeling of being wanted. The only happy moment between them is an outing with two kids, Frank can be a good father figure, but Margaret will never let that happen, both are too obstinate to compromise, Frank can easily choose another object, but no, he will not take no as an answer.

Richard Harris superbly brings about Frank's multifarious personae, he is a blunt force of nature, yet he can also be quietly implosive in haunting close-ups. Like his close friends Richard Burton and Peter O'Toole, he is another British thespian to whom Oscar owes a golden statue. Rachel Roberts, incredibly augments tensions and empathy against her around-the-clock sullen facade and dead inside, fairly enough, both are Oscar-nominated.

Anderson showcases his brilliant expertise of shooting scenes with rapid movements and indoors close-ups, the monochromatic palette effectively adds a layer of fatalism to a rather dispiriting melodrama anchored by two powerhouse performances, truly is one of the best of its time.

Having seen the film several times I can relate to the lifestyle of the characters, I was a child in the sixties and my memories of life back then are reflected in the atmostsphere that the film generates.

I have read various comments about the film looking dated, and yes it does, but it is a true reflection on life at that time.

It is also a great historical piece as many of the towns and sports arena's used in the film have changed drastically or no longer exist.

I particularly remember the MECCA social club in Wakefield and the various coffee bars that surrounded it, Belle Vue where the Rugby League scenes were shot has stayed remarkably unchanged over the years and I still enjoy the atmostsphere as I watch my favourite team Wakefield Trinity Wildcats.

To see the massive cooling towers in the background stirs memories of being there on a Saturday afternoon with my late Father Norman.

I have a real soft spot for this film and I'm sorry that I have concentrated on my memories rather than the films content.