My Childhood

Firstly, to my surprise, my local lending library had this BFI Bill Douglas trilogy to rent for £1.90, for a week. The lady staff member added its second sticker on which they stamp the due date. It had been in the library since 2008. A few dozen borrowings in 5 years...

Secondly, all the reviews here outline much about the plot and story and its gritty, hard-to-take realism. I agree absolutely with all said. Radio Times online quote 'makes the relentless chill of poverty almost tangible'.

This is simple but extremely effective film-making, sparse dialogue, close-ups that show gestures and silence and natural sounds to accentuate those feelings. Heartwarming and heartbreaking, this is one film that is a must-see for all cineastes who think they know British film and really is on par with anything that the Italian or Russian greats have done.

You feel a certain numbness, a chill after viewing that tells you something - that it's touched you. Not too many films achieve that these days.

When we first started watching this, I thought it was a documentary. It reminded me of Ken Loach. We watched part of "My Childhood" but then needed to finish it the next evening. I had a sense of dread when we sat down to view it again. The hard cruelty and insanity of this child's family, and most adults except the German worker. There are moments when I was confused thinking this was Jamie's father, so warm were their interactions. These films are work but well worth the effort; a full meal. Reminded me of the "pure cinema" of Robert Bresson and "Au Husard Balthasar", to some extent; good children battling the harshness of the world, and the people in it. There were times when Jamie is sitting curled up under that table or outside when I despaired he would do injury to himself. I was so hoping when he fell backward onto that coal train, he would just keep going along with it. The previous comments from the gentleman who grew up in similar circumstances in a Scottish industrial town were very moving to me. His being reminded of his own childhood is a testament to Bill Douglas' gift of storytelling and marks these films very important indeed. The work of Terence Davies must have been influenced by Douglas, I thought of his "Distant Voices, Still Lives" quite a bit. There is an indictment of growing up in wartime U.K. that can't be ignored, and ultimately, the perils of growing up in poverty. I have to recommend the Bill Douglas Trilogy to anyone who appreciates a cinema verite film-making experience, but not for the faint of heart.

The story? The title says it all: a moment of the author's childhood.

The dialogues? Hardly any.

The action? Mostly surviving.

The setting? Scotland The result? Beyond words.

Either you feel it like a punch in your stomach or you don't and you look away, bored. Period.

You reach here the bare bone of filming and story-telling. But if you can just watch, the cold wind will bite your skin, you'll be hungry and mute with awe and anger. You'll reach the unbreakable core of childhood, the diamond coal that warms up frozen black nights while everybody looks elsewhere.

The pure magic of cinema.

Emotion. Not feelings, not sentiments, not sadness nor love. Emotion, rid of the shell of whatever is inessential.

Bill Douglas's extraordinary monochrome trilogy from the '70s. It seems like a Play for Today but with metaphysical undertones and Tarkovskian touches despite the very bleak domestic setting in a Scottish coal-mining town (Newcraighall) in the '40s; it records time incisively. 1972 was that most downbeat of hippy years and also had a strangely 'Caledonian-ish' tinge. Overall, one of the high-points of Scottish film and cinema.

Bad acting bad editing just a home movie really. Its ment to be set in 1945 but the haircuts and clothes look 1970s the budget obviously couldn't afford period transport so the street scenes look empty and bare. It's all long faced woe is me reminiscanceing. Its dull and as it's all been done much better before in documentary form pointless.