Those People Next Door

A bittersweet look at life in lockdown under the Blitz ("Hurry up, the raid'll be over before you're dressed!") set in Kent but shot in Manchester.

Jack Warner, Charles Victor, Gladys Henson and Garry Marsh all look the same age they ever did, but Marjorie Rhodes, Anthony Newley, Patricia Cutts and unbilled local Eli Woods (described as a "long streak of pump water") are startlingly youthful.

This is the weirdest film I've seen on talking pictures supposed to be love between the classes but just turned into the jack warner show I don't think the happy couple spoke one sentence to each other and I don't understand why anyone would relate to this at the time.

Unfortunately, I have to say that "Those People Next Door" (1953) is a film that I would not recommend. The acting performances, particularly by Jack Warner, were quite disappointing. Warner's portrayal of the main character lacked nuance and depth, making it difficult to connect with him emotionally. The story itself felt stale and predictable, with little to offer in terms of originality or creativity. The pacing of the film was also problematic, with scenes dragging on for longer than necessary and little sense of urgency or momentum. Overall, "Those People Next Door" is a forgettable film that fails to leave a lasting impression.

There were a number of domestic comedy series made in the 1940's and '50s starring as the parents Jack Warner (the Huggets) Gary Marsh (the William stories)and the redoubtable Marjorie Rhodes. Here they all appear together along with character actor Charles Victor and later to be super-star Antony Newley. None an international name then but nevertheless probably the most familiar faces in these kinds of roles. As with the Huggets there are attractive late teen daughters with new and strong interest in "boys". Set in wartime but actually filmed in 1953 it feels rather dated and grey for its time. Interestingly both working class father (Warner) and very upper class opposite number (Marsh) are treated seriously and sympathetically - Warner is not afraid to talk very plainly in reply to Marsh's wife's upper-class condescension doubting the suitability of Warner's daughter as a marriage partner for the lady's son.

Interesting that the subject of humour if not satire revolved around the neighbours played by Charles Victor and Gladys Henson, the first loudly preaching the Evils of Capitalism (in between whiles describing at great length ludicrous inventions of his own), his wife a permanent leach on the "people next door" constantly calling to "just borrow" something.

The film puts across a message: that upper and working classes can each still respect the other's dignity and common human feelings. The odd ones out were the neighbours: he a left wing but harmless malcontent and impractical dreamer, she a habitual cadger. Quite a pointed message for all the film's apparent ordinariness.

Although adapted from a play it lacks the sparkle, polish and wit to be seen in "One Wild Oat" and other productions which had been honed over long runs on the stage stage. It does however have a pretty good cast. It is though only for those interested in the cast or the era. Nearly all the cast appeared in more entertaining films which suggests that the studio blew their budget on the cast rather than on the script.

Jack Warner stars as the head of a working-class family -- when wife Marjorie Rhodes lets him -- during the War. His routine and equanimity are upset when Lady Grace Arnold comes by to demand he forbid his daughter Patricia Cutts, from seeing her son.

It's quite a change from the "We're all in it together" that filled British movies from the start of the war to the end. This makes full use of snobbery, both of the upper classes towards the working folks, and that of the lower class Charles Victor, full of Bolshie contempt for the uppers, and yet always ready to cadge whatever he fancies, from a beer to Warner's reading glasses. Warner has his own pride, thinking himself as good as any man and twice as good as most, and his women folk the best of all.

It's pleasant fare, although nothing extraordinary about it. That was Warner's stock-in-trade in performance, that of the ordinary, decent bloke, doing his job, keeping up with what was going on in the world, pleased with what he's achieved, and minding his own business, but happy to help out in an emergency, like millions of others on both sides of the Atlantic.