O Pior dos Pecados

During the inter-war years the Sussex resort of Brighton became notorious for the activities of criminal gangs, and this side of Brighton life was dramatised in Graham Greene's 1938 novel, Brighton Rock. (The title refers to a type of confectionery traditionally sold in British seaside resorts). The book was made into a film in 1947 by which time, according to the introductory captions, gangsterism had entirely ceased and the town was once again a tranquil, law-abiding community. In actual fact this was far from true- wartime black marketeering had, if anything, given a boost to criminal activity, both in Brighton and elsewhere- but this disclaimer, however fictitious, was necessary of the film-makers were to secure the support of the town's Corporation for location filming.

The main character is Pinkie Brown, the youthful leader of a gang of thugs whose principal activity is protection racketeering. Early in the film, Pinkie murders Fred Hale, a journalist who has been investigating his gang's activities, by pushing him off the town's Palace Pier. Although the police regard the death as an accident, Pinkie tries to cover his tracks by creating a false alibi for himself, which leads to the commission of further crimes and to Pinkie's marriage to Rose, a young waitress who he believes might be in possession of evidence which could send him to the gallows. Pinkie is not in love with Rose, but marries her because at the time the film was made there was a rule of English law that a wife could not give evidence against her husband.

Greene himself wrote the screenplay for the film adaptation, together with Terence Rattigan, but he changed the ending, which is perhaps not the most successful part of the original novel. He kept the novel's concern with Roman Catholicism, but changed its emphasis. In the book Pinkie is a convinced Catholic believer who somehow manages to reconcile his religious faith with his criminal lifestyle. In the film he never mentions religion until he catches sight of a rosary in Rose's handbag, the implication being that he is only pretending to be a fellow-Catholic in order to impress her. The film places a much greater emphasis on Rose's spiritual development, including a final twist which is not in the novel but which nevertheless makes for a more satisfying ending.

The film is not flawless, and there are a couple of plot-holes. Would a national newspaper really have used one of their leading investigative reporters as their seaside "mystery man", even sending him to a town where his journalism had made him enemies? Would an innocent young girl like Rose really have fallen for someone as charmless as Pinkie, who makes little attempt to hide his contempt for her? (A girl with the looks of Carol Marsh would hardly lack for male admirers). And yet this is one of the greatest British crime films of the period, perhaps of all time.

Although "Brighton Rock" was made in black-and-white, it was not, unlike some British crime films from the period, made in direct imitation of the dark, moody American film noir style. There is a clear distinction between the public and private realms. Those scenes set outdoors, or in public places, are light and cheerful, reflecting the atmosphere of a warm summer's day by the seaside. (The film is set in early June, perhaps at Whitsun which was still an official Bank Holiday in the thirties). By contrast, Pinkie and his gang live in a drab, seedy lodging house of the type familiar from many British "kitchen sink" dramas. Crime has clearly not paid for the gang; it is notable that one of the victims of their protection rackets lives in more style than they do.

The acting in the film is of a uniformly high standard. There are good contributions from the likes of Carol Marsh and Harcourt Williams as the corrupt lawyer Prewitt, but the two which really stand out are from Hermione Baddeley as Ida Arnold and Richard Attenborough as Pinkie. Ida, the one person who believes that Fred's death was suspicious, is at first sight not a particularly attractive character. She is an ageing showgirl, loud, coarse and brassy. She does, however, have a strong sense of right and wrong, and is determined to secure justice for Fred, who was neither her lover nor a close friend, merely a casual acquaintance. It is her investigations which eventually persuade the police to take action. ("Brighton Rock" takes an unusually critical view of the police, who are portrayed as too complacent; other British films of the period, notably "The Blue Lamp", show them in a much more idealised light).

Attenborough's Pinkie is one of the greatest representations of pure evil in the history of the cinema. Young in years, but old in sin, his smooth, boyish face never betrays any emotion but hatred, resentment and self-pity. He has no feelings for anyone but himself, not for Rose, whom he despises, nor for his fellow gang members, one of whom he murders for alleged cowardice. Like Macbeth, he discovers that his first murder can never be the "be-all and the end-all", and is forced, in desperation, to commit further crimes as his attempts to cover his tracks misfire and his criminal empire starts to crumble.

This is a short film, but one packed with action, and director John Boulting paces it superbly to create both a sense of mounting tension and a sense of an inevitable nemesis hanging over its vicious anti-hero. The cinema rarely comes closer to pure tragedy than this. In my view this is perhaps the greatest ever British gangster film, greater even than "Get Carter", which is high praise indeed. 9/10

I recently screened a very old, worn 16mm print of this film in our local pub and it went down a storm.

Richard Attenborough is screen dynamite as ruthless, petulant Pinkie Brown, the driven, teenage gangster. Carol Marsh also excels as the downtrodden Rose, Pinkie's young bride. Also worthy of a mention is Hermione Baddeley who is a scream as the brash, common Ida Arnold who shrieks like a harpie when supping Gin but has a heart of gold.

This is a great creaky, old British film and has a perfect cast. The final scene is especially touching when a technical error prevents poor little Rose from learning the truth about Pinkie's feelings for her.

Go see!

"I never knew the old" Brighton "before the war" with its razor-slashing protectionist race gangs, crooked lawyers and ineffective police. We seldom travelled out of London. "I really got to know it in" those post-war days of safe family holidays by the sea - the excitement of the beach, ice cream sodas on the West Pier, cinemas in the evening.....

(No prize for recognising my reference to the opening of the great film that appeared two years later!)

Part of my fascination with the 1947 "Brighton Rock" is of course affection for a place I grew to love and know so well during the course of many happy vacations with my parents in those far-off days. I was even drawn to eventually settle in a sort of mini-Brighton complete with Regency squares and balconies and the sound of screaming seagulls, 37 miles along the coast to the east. But I digress.....What particularly surprised me on a recent viewing of the film was not only how well it has worn, but the extreme darkness of its nightmare vision of a gangster-ridden society. For a British film of the late '40's it is unusually violent and shot through with a bleakness that outstrips much of the Hollywood noir of the period. Was there ever a more vicious young thug than Richard Attenborough's enormously effective portrayal of the 17 year old Pinkie Brown who runs his protectionist racket from a seedy backstreet dwelling? Pointless to write at length when so much has already been written. (An excellent user comment on this site from laika-lives says it all). Simply let me record my admiration for the Boulting Brothers, especially John the director, for demonstrating an understanding of pacing and montage that almost equals the best work of the great Carol Reed, particularly in the terrific opening quarter of an hour when the unfortunate and terrified Fred is finally tracked down to meet his doom on the Ghost Train at the end of Palace Pier. They don't seem to do sequences like this with such style any more. A good enough reason, I would have thought, for shunning a recent remake!

Brighton Rock is directed by John Boulting and written by Graham Greene (also 1938 novel) and Terence Rattigan. Produced by Roy Boulting, it stars Richard Attenborough, Carol Marsh, William Hartnell, Hermione Baddeley, Harcourt Williams and Wylie Watson. Music is scored by Hans May and cinematography is by Harry Waxman. Plot finds Attenborough as small time Brighton hoodlum Pinkie Brown, whose attempts to cover up a murder sees events spiral out of control for himself and those closest to him.

1947 was a good year for tough, gritty British drama, in fact it was a key year in the progression of British cinema. It was the year that would see the release of They Made Me A Fugitive, It Always Rains On Sunday, Odd Man Out and Brighton Rock. The latter film, arguably the one that looks the most dated, is the one that shocked the most upon its release. Refreshing, then, to find that in spite of the aged edges of the narrative frame, it still today has a power, a bleakness, that justifies the classic status afforded it. Part seedy seaside noir, part character driven observation on Catholic guilt and torment, Brighton Rock overcomes some slight old time technical flaws to thrive on thematic potency and a tense narrative.

Many authors find their respective work losing impetus during the translation to the big screen, Graham Greene is one who hasn't had to suffer in that department. Key issue for those adapting his work is to understand the characterisations at work, thankfully the Boulting brothers grasp that Pinkie Brown, surely one of Greene's greatest creations, has a complexity that needs him front and centre of the brewing maelstrom. The plot then tumbles out around him, as the seedy underbelly of Brighton's everyday life is exposed. The casting of Attenborough as Pinkie was a masterstroke, fresh faced and wide eyed, Attenborough plays it as coiled spring like, his psychosis troubling and ready to explode at any given moment. His cold hearted relationship with the homely, desperate for love, Rose (Marsh), is utterly disturbing, and it's that relationship that underpins the story.

Story is set amongst two sides of Brighton, one side is sunny, full of lights, fun-fairs and candy floss, the other features grimy boarding houses, penny café's and loud back street beer houses. The neat trick the Boulting's pull is that we know the sunny side is merely a facade to darker forces, much of the badness is played out to the backdrop of seaside frivolity and relaxation. With the iconic pier serving as a dual witness to both the good and bad side of Brighton's current denizens. Aided by Waxman's oppressive photography, J Boulting paints in claustrophobic strokes, perfectly enveloping the lead protagonists in a number of restrictive set-ups, where the surroundings deftly match the mood of the individual. It's going to end bad, it has too, the atmosphere tells us that, but the makers are reveling in tightening the noose one turn at a time, and that's a sure fire bonus for film noir lovers.

Film is well cast across the board, with Hartnell most notable as Pinkie gang member, Dallow, while Baddeley as Pinkie's bold and brassy adversary, Ida Arnold, is suitably annoying. Memorable characters, one and all, each one serving to add fuel to Attenborough's malevolent fire. How great it is to also take away a number of memorable scenes from the movie. From the pulse raising chase at the beginning; to the weird and haunting brutality of a ghost train sequence, and to the cruel finale that drips with cynicism, it's a film that refuses to leave the conscious after the credits have rolled. The ending may have been toned down from that of the novel, but what remains still bites hard, as does, in truth, the whole film. 9/10

I just saw this picture courtesy of a local rental store which has a number of Btitish films otherwise not available. Wow!

Absolutely excellent in all departments. Attenborough gives a standout performance as Pinky and is surrounded by a sterling cast working at the same high level. The film is beautifully photographed in a way which gives texture to the story and reality to the characters. This must be one of the top British films of the Forties and can stand beside anything Hollywood was doing at the time (or any time for that matter.)

The script is credited to Graham Greene (based on his Novel) and, the unlikely seeming, Terence Rattigan (Separate Tables, Winslow Boy et al). Without knowing who contributed what to the final screenplay, I can say that it is a beautiful and coherent piece of work that has character development as well as terse and atmospheric dialog that keeps the viewer engrossed and the tension high.

Recommended (especially to fans of film noir)