A Fúria de um Bruto

Nasty and brutish it may be but this British crime movie is also extremely gripping and very well done for what it is. Richard Todd is the salesman who goes after the thieves who stole his car. Adam Faith is the young thug who actually took it and, cast against type, Peter Sellers is superb as the psychotic Mr Big figure. A 17 year old Carol White, (she of "Cathy Come Home" fame), is Sellers' young mistress. The director was John Guillermin and he gives the film a nice sleazy atmosphere and makes very good use of his London locations.

While the star of this film technically is Richard Todd, Peter Sellers' supporting performance dominates the film and it's no surprise that the DVD features Sellers on the cover, not Todd. It's one of the better performances of his career--and, interestingly, it's not at all comedic but a VERY gritty and serious role.

The film begins with a working man (Todd) leaving work--only to discover that his car's been stolen. He goes to the police but after a couple days there doesn't appear to be any chance he'll get it back--and it's not insured. Todd is a very mild-mannered man and not the sort you'd expect to do anything about the crime, but his car is needed for his job and he won't let it rest. So, he starts trying to find leads on his own--and repeatedly he nearly gets himself killed. Yet, for once this mild-mannered man is NOT going to just back down--he will follow this as far as he can and the consequences be damned. Through the course of Todd's investigations, the trail leads to a truly horrible man (Sellers). On the surface, Sellers seems sophisticated and mild-mannered himself. However, he is a very violent bully--and this comes out with the least provocation. What's to happen next? Tune in to this excellent film to see for yourself--just be forewarned...it's amazingly brutal for 1960--so brutal the Brits gave it what is equivalent to a restricted rating!

As I said, Sellers is at his best here. Wearing bulky clothes (and perhaps lifts to make him look taller), he looks beefier and plays a great heavy. His violent and sadistic routine is mesmerizing--and it was hard to believe this is the same guy who made a career out of making people laugh. Here, he's malevolent and cruel--and very effective. Now all this does NOT mean Todd isn't quite good as well--he is. But even in turning in a dandy performance himself, he is overshadowed by the malevolent Sellers. The sum effect of both of them is quite compelling--making a simple and inexpensive film much better than you'd ever expect. If you like to see excellent acting and characters, then see this one.

I've only ever seen this film once, and only recently found out its title! I won't go over the plot here as this has been well covered by other reviewers. Suffice to say that this low-budget British film punches way above its weight and features some great performances, especially that of Peter Sellers who puts in a particularly riveting turn as the car-napper. Richard Todd's performance as the mild mannered salesman was always going to be eclipsed. One thing that struck me at the time was the number of mentions given to Todd's 'Ford Anglia', the car without which he could not survive. So often was the car mentioned that I am still convinced that Ford must have done a bit of sponsorship here! A great, gritty film from the days when we knew how to make them.

Never Let Go is directed by John Guillermin who also co-writes the story with producer Peter de Sarigny. Alun Falconer adapts to screenplay with music by John Barry and cinematography by Christopher Challis. It stars Peter Sellers, Richard Todd, Elizabeth Sellars, Adam Faith and Carol White.

John Cummings (Todd) is a struggling cosmetics salesman who buys a Ford Anglia car from crooked criminal Lionel Meadows (Sellers). When the car is stolen, Cummings, without insurance, finds his job on the line and his marriage facing crisis. Refusing to accept it as just one of those unfortunate things, Cummings starts digging for answers and finds himself in a world of violence, apathy and suicide.

As the classic film noir cycle came to an end, there was still the odd film to filter through post 1958 that deserved to have been better regarded in noir circles. One such film is Britain's biting thriller, Never Let Go. Its history is interesting. Landed with the X Certificate in Britain, a certificate normally afforded blood drenched horror or pornography, the picture garnered some notoriety on account of its brutal violence and frank language. By today's standards it's obviously tame, but transporting oneself back to 1960 it's easy to see why the picture caused a stir. The other notable thing to come with the film's package was the appearance of Peter Sellers in a very rare serious role. In short he plays a vile angry bastard, and plays it brilliantly so, but the critics kicked him for it, and his army of fans were dismayed to see the great comic actor playing fearsome drama. So stung was he by the criticism and fall out, Sellers refused to do serious drama again. And that, on this evidence, is a tragic shame.

What about my car? Out of Beaconsfield Studios, Guillermin's movie is a clinically bleak movie in tone and thematics. Todd's amiable John Cummings is plunged into a downward spiral of violence and helplessness by one turn of fate, that of his car being stolen. As he is buffeted about by young thugs, given the run around by a seemingly unsympathetic police force, starts to lose a grip on his job and dressed down by his adoring wife, Cummings begins to man up and realise he may have to become as bad as his nemesis, Lionel Meadows, to get what he rightly feels is justice. But at what cost to himself and others? The classic noir motif of the doppleganger comes into play for the excellently staged finale, made more telling by the build up where Cummings' "growth" plays opposite Meadows' rod of iron approach as he bullies man, woman and reptiles. Visually, too, it's classic film noir where Challis (Footsteps in the Fog) and Guillermin (Town on Trial) use shadows and darkness to reflect state of minds, while the grand use of off kilter camera angles are used for doors of plot revelation. Layered over the top is a jazzy score by John Barry.

It's not perfect, Sellers' accent takes some getting used to here in London town, Adam Faith is not wholly convincing as a bully boy carjacker and there's a leap of faith needed to accept some parts of the police investigation. But this is still quality drama, it's nasty, seedy and expertly characterised by the principal actors. In this dingy corner of 1960 London, film noir was very much alive and well. 9/10

Never Let Go, a movie rarely shown in the U.S. (and perhaps elsewhere), is well worth your time, especially if you are a Peter Sellers fan. The plot is reminiscent of The Bicycle Thief, though this movie will not be confused with Italian Neo-Realism. Under John Guillermin's direction, this drama moves from a nervy look at the underworld to a climax comparable to a western's showdown on a deserted dirt street. Richard Todd plays a cosmetics salesman barely doing well enough to make a living, in part due to his milquetoast-type personality. When his car is stolen, his life takes a serious downturn--he cannot work without it. His quest to get his car back drives the plot till the movie's end. Unlike The Bicycle Thief, however, much of the focus scene-by-scene is on the thief, played here by the late, great Peter Sellers.

Sellers's performance is overwhelming, completely over the top. The best comparison I can make is to Dennis Hopper's memorable performance in Lynch's Blue Velvet. As the movie progresses, his manic behavior becomes infectious: there was a palpable sense of the hysteric in the theater where I saw this movie, the audience just waiting to explode with laughter or shock with each move that Sellers made. This can be see as a distraction, and for a moment here or there it is, but by the end, the performance works very well, making the Todd character's growing determination to reclaim his car a point of tension--it will lead to direct confrontation with a maniac. Inexplicably, there is a sugary last scene tacked on to the end of this film, but it is easily forgiven. Ask your local art film house if it can show this movie--if so, it will be a memorable experience.