Rooney

I remember seeing most of John Gregson's 1950's films and enjoyed them all with "Genevieve" and "Rooney" proving to be my favourites.

''Rooney" may not have attracted the wider audience that the emerging Boulting Brothers and Carry On comedies succeeded in doing but those of us who caught it on it's initial release treasure the memory of a well-cast, very charming little British/Irish offering.

Gregson gently and assuredly wins the audience over from the outset and as we share his camaraderie with his rubbish collector mates, led by the always wonderful Noel Purcell, we quickly identify with poor Rooney's plight as he brushes up against a bevy of women of questionable motives and various charms or otherwise. When the right woman for Rooney appears, the delightful Muriel Pavlow, initially plain and down-trodden but sweet and sincere, we are urged to give Rooney a hurry-up. The final outcome brings the film to a quick but highly moving and memorable conclusion.

Special mention : everyone's favourite Irishman, Barry Fitzgerald is along for the ride too so you can't go wrong with this underrated gem.

As all agree, this is an utterly charming, unpretentious film. It is helped by the acting talent of the famous Abbey Theatre, Dublin. And although the lead character of 'the Rooney' himself is played by an Englishman, John Gregson fairly inhabits his working-class Dublin character, with an accent that never jars in comparison to the real Irish actors - except perhaps he finds the test of acting tipsy while keeping the brogue a bit much for him. Of course today an English film about Irish life might seem patronising, but they did a creditably sympathetic job in 1958, perhaps helped by an Irish scriptwriter's fleshing out of Catherine Cookson's story and the wonderfully atmospheric filming of Dublin city.

A curiosity of the film is that Barry Fitzgerald's voice-over to the establishing shots of the Dublin of 1957 - the year when the filming was done - speaks complacently of the unchanging face of the old city, and references what was then a favourite landmark of all Dubliners, Nelson's Pillar, saying:

' - - - the dawn broke over the old city and everything was pretty much as it was the night before - and Nelson's statue still stood in O'Connell Street - - - .'

In retrospect, this observation has been made to seem ironical, since we know that the IRA blew the statue of Nelson atop his Pillar to smithereens shortly after 1:30 on the morning of 8 March 1966.

So the film is a nostalgic reminder of more innocent times. The official version of the reaction of Dubliners, to the destruction of this much-loved and familiar landmark, is that general gaiety broke out in the city. Certainly the Irish have an attractive penchant to make the best of anything - even a funeral. But some elderly people of that town I once spoke to were adamant that, on the whole, Dublin folk had rather 'the boyos' had left old Nelson where he was. And, when the remaining stump was blown up by the army, after the Corporation declared it 'a dangerous structure,' the good people of the Irish Capital sorely missed being able to take friends and relatives from the country up the spiral staircase, inside the Pillar, to share Nelson's unparallelled crow's-nest view of Dublin!

Part of the charm of old films is that they have become time-capsules, trapping the past as it flits through the lens, to preserve it's fluttering motion more perfectly than flies in amber!

And for lovers of unfamiliar sports, the filmed spectacle of an actual game of hurley, in which our fictional hero is presented as the star player, conveys all the ferocity of a game with ancient origins in the wild and often violent training of Irishmen for hand-to-hand combat in war - and since helmets and face-guards were still shunned at this time as badges of cowardice, one must admire the rugged ruins of many a battered face. Old Nelson's head, still lying in the Dublin City Library and Archive, is hardly the worse for wear.

John Gregson turns in quite an amiable performance here as the eponymous Dublin bin man turned athlete. By day, he collects rubbish whilst at the weekends, he plays the lethal game of the "hurley" - and it's this that draws the attention of local bigwig "Doolan" (Liam Redmond) who helps him to find better lodgings. Safely ensconced, he meets "Maire" (Muriel Pavlov) who lives with her ailing, elderly, grandfather (Barry Fitzgerald) and his rather grumpy daughter "Mrs. O"Flynn" (Marie Kean). Can he make good on his sporting promise, survive all the familial discord and get the gal? It's very un-Catherine Cookson, this - but that just demonstrates a little of the versatility of an author who could update her stories as the need called for it. Despite being as English as the Thames, Gregson - maybe not so well when drunk - is engaging as the charming Irishman and I rather liked Kean's contributions as the stern "Miss Gulch"-esque woman who certainly never has an half full glass! Sure, it's all pretty predictable, but it serves as a nice reminder of late 1950s Dublin, and offers a watchable family drama that is characterful and well paced.

This movie would be of great interest to historians and sociologists looking for a insight into Dublin in the 1950's, particularly the garbage collection business.

For the rest of us, it's a creaking story about a Dublin dustbin man who is blessed with a magnetic attraction for women and great hurling skills (the sport that is, not the bins).

There is probably something more interesting on....

John Gregson is a dustman during the week. During the weekend, though, he plays field hockey. Local bigwig Liam Redmond spots him, and thinks he's just the man to captain his team for an important match, and lets him know about a new apartment, far from his old rooming house. There he sees the goings-on , with Barry Fitzgeralf, who's dying, owning the lease, his harridan daughter-in-law Marie Kean making everyone miserable, and his loving grand daughter, Muriel Pavlow, absolutely miserable.

It's based on a novel by Catherine Cookson, and there are hints of greatness about the movie, particularly the care with which the exteriors are shot around Dublin. Most of it, however, is a standard romantic comedy under the direction of George Pollock: always competent, well fitted out with plots and subplots and acting by Jack MacGowran, and other Abbey Players, but with nothing, alas, tointerfere with the obvious workings of the plot.