Home at Seven

It's not uncommon for actors to direct themselves in films but many do it only once, perhaps because they believe in a project, either as vehicle for themselves or just as a vehicle worth bringing to the screen. In 1952 Ralph Richardson felt the need to direct a film of R. C. Sherriff's play "Home at Seven" casting himself as the bank clerk who has a 24 hour memory lapse and then finds himself inplicated in a murder.

It's a good plot and if Richardson handles it in a somewhat theatrical fashion he, at least, draws first-rate performances from his cast while he is outstanding as the clerk. After Olivier, I've always felt Richardson was the finest of the theatrical knights to make it in the movies and he doesn't disappoint here. It's a wonderful performance and Margaret Leighton and Jack Hawkins are just as good as his fretting wife and the doctor who tries to help him. The plot itself may be a little far-fetched but the treatment is excellent making this one of the best and certainly one of the most underrated British films of the period.

Very slow to gain momentum, but once it does it chugs along at an acceptable pace. Richardson may be an impeccable Shakespearean actor, but on the big screen he is far less convincing. Leighton excels as the dutiful wife who will do anything for her suffering husband. Of course we laugh at those traits in this modern age of feminism, but what a comfort dutiful wives must have been for men of that era. The plot is very predictable and somewhat rigid given the base cause: (amnesia), but it is handled very well by the direction of Richardson that you could be excused for mistaking it for a Hitchcock movie. All in all, an enjoyable film.

Ralph Richardson stars (he also directs) as a man with a problem. He comes home from work one Monday night and finds his wife (Margaret Leighton) in a tizzy. It seems it's actually Tuesday and he's been missing for more than 24 hours. As the plot unfolds, we also learn that funds from a social club he's in are missing and that the bookkeeper has been killed. Hmmm. Richardson has a memory blackout and cannot account for his actions.

Luckily in 1952, we were a kinder world (at least in the movies) and a kindly physician (Jack Hawkins) patiently helps him remember events. An equally patient and kind police inspector (Campbell Singer) also helps him sift through the facts and clues. Amid all this patience, his neighbor and club president (Michael Shepley) is only too glad to jump to conclusions. But patient wife Leighton remains staunch.

As the mystery is unraveled, we find that Richardson is not exactly the man we all thought he was, but that he, like all of us, has a few secrets. Late in the film, Meriel Forbes as Peggy arrives on the doorstep and reveals a few things about Richardson. She also steals the film.

This truly enjoyable film portrays the frustrations of a mild mannered clerk embroiled in a mystery that has occurred outside of his memory. Most entertaining is Ralph Richardson, perfectly cast a the staid, banker living a life of ritualistic routine that has been turned upside down. He has that natural gift of absolute clear speech - even in the most dramatic moments and is a pleasure to watch. His reparte with the investigating inspector is most engaging. To bad this movie is unavailable on video.

A long forgotten British film, that has David Preston ( Ralph Richardson) as a lowly bank clerk, who returns home, as usual, only to be told by his wife, that he has been missing for 24 hours.

He slowly starts to come to terms with what has happened, only to find out that the steward of his local club has been murdered, and that he has been implicated. Margaret Leighton as his wife, and Campbell Singer,as the police inspector give good support. I find these films from 40's and 50's fascinating, as they show a way of life that has long since disappeared.