Passeport pour la honte

This old movie is incredibly current .... more relevant now to what goes on in london now than it was when it was made. There are no modern movies that show the intricacies of how these people work better than this marvellous old movie...

What a wonderful surprise! I was hopeful but not particularly expectant of good things here but it seemed worth a look with a warning preface from 'Fabian of the Yard', a starring role for Herbert Lom and appearances from Diana Dors and Eddie Constantine. In the event this turns out very well, nothing like as scandalous today as it would have been back in the late 50s but still fairly tough and uncompromising. Constantine, a veteran of 'B' pictures whose real claim to fame would come a few years later when Goddard would utilise his rugged looks in Alphaville plays an heroic taxi cab driver against Herbert Lom who plays the baddest of men in charge of a vice ring. Both men are particularly effective and the film, directed and lit like a noir, serves them both well. Also served well is Diana Does, her magnificent full on appearance at the start and the comment about belonging in the gutter as she smiles makes it see she may be limited to this wondrous cameo but no, she puts in a great performance throughout, the seeming excess of make-up probably more down to the fantastic clarity of the new Blu-ray. Vivid but hard to identify west London location predominate with most seeming in the Bayswater area. There is one particular scene, very unusual in British films, showing a whole area of a smart looking street with numerous ladies of the night arranged about and approaching passers by and a close-up of an ultra smart looking Whiteleys of Queensway. The seeming romantic interludes are probably a little overdone but from start to finish this is a fast moving and, if not as exploitative as suggested, certainly more lurid than might have been expected for a 60+ year old film shot on the streets of London and Walton on Thames.

Among the sundry delights to be found in this British white slavery sexpose is the gonzo turn by Herbert Lom. As London's mac daddy supreme Nick Biaggi, Lom is a sight to behold, a horn-doggie dandy in homburg, lapel carnation and spats (au courant fashion be damned). He's low-key at first, oozing oily charm and generosity, the better to bamboozle naive French waif Odile Versois, who's been lured into a life of shame by Lom's field procurer/mamasan/mistress Brenda De Banzie. But behind closed doors it's a whole 'nother Herb. Channeling his inner Michael Gough, he's all over Odile like a cheap suit, manhandling her love handles and assaulting her face with wet, slobbering kisses. It's truly an unhinged spectacle; even Lom's toupee looks like it has an erection.

Also in the house: affable tough guy Eddie Constantine as the world's least likely Canadian, the always welcome Robert Brown (Tumak's dad in One Million Years B.C., 'M' in the Bond films of the '80s) as a two-fisted cabbie who rouses his fellow hacks to do battle with the 'ho-mongers, Diana Dors, poured into bum-busting skirts and Frederick's of Soho lingerie, as a hooker with a score to settle, and, as the groom at a wedding party, a remarkably young Michael Caine.

All this plus a wacky weed-induced dream scene that must be seen to be disbelieved.

Lowdown high times guaranteed.

I fully expected this to be as lurid as its title but watched it anyway, probably because I first found it under its much cooler name, Room 43. Glad I did; it's immediately engrossing. A sweet French waitress is framed into prostitution. The first step is to set her up as a "thief" at her place of work. Then the madam, who works for the pimp, swoops in to "save" her and whisk her off to England. Once there they tell her she needs to marry a brit to stay there, enter our hero cabbie. This is all in service of forcing her into the life. There are some wonderfully 50s bombshells to contrast against her innocence which is underscored by her finding and adopting a kitten, as well as and other beauties of the era.

An incredible piece of social history lit in gothic black & white by Hammer maestro Jack Asher anticipating how Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies started a couple of years later. Following an introduction from behind a desk by Fabian of the Yard sternly warning us that it deals frankly with a pressing social evil, Ken Jones' trashy jazz score kicks in and the fun starts as weary old procuress Brenda De Banzie and jaded pro Diana Dors draw innocent young Odile Versois into Herbert Lom's web of sin (including a marijuana-induced dream sequence worthy of silent DeMille) in order to pay for his Saville Row suits.

It's probably just coincidence that the finale resembles Ken Loach's 'Looking for Eric' fifty years later. And director Alvin Rakoff carelessly permits an egregious line misreading by Joan Sims, who combines into one sentence the second and third sentences of what was evidently meant to be delivered as "Are you kidding? With Mike there? He'd sooner fight than have his breakfast!"

But compared to the sort of thing camera operator 'Nick' Roeg was directing a quarter of a century later it all seems positively decorous.