Les chemins de la haute ville

This is a superb movie. The plot is reminiscent of "An American Tragedy." But it takes place in England, and the hero is very much an Angry Young Man. Nevertheless, it is so beautifully written and directed it feels as fresh and new as if the such issues had never before been touched in movies.

Laurence Harvey, whom I'm generally not crazy about, is superb as the lower-class guy determined to make it big. He sets his sights on the boss's daughter, appealingly played by Heather Sears. But something happens to sidetrack him. And that something -- Simone Signoret -- is the main reason to see and to cherish "Room At The Top." She is very believable as the slightly shady older woman with whom he has a romance. And her eyes! Her eyes, suggesting wisdom and great depths of sadness, will break you heart. It seems like a simple performance and it is uncluttered, stark. But it is flawless. I can think of almost no other performance by a woman in an English-language movie that compares to Signoret's.

The unusual depth and range in the love between Alice (Simone Signoret) and Joe (Laurence Harvey) are what takes "The Room at the Top," to another level. However, this almost classic film doesn't always rise above its flaws. The truth is that Signoret is consistently convincing in her role, and Harvey is not.

His biggest problem is his two-faced persona. He is the young, naive, rustic in one scene, and the older, authoritative, sophisticate in the next. He shifts between these two types more often than he switches accents. And his voice seems to follow the same pattern, so mellow when a yokel, so deep and masculine when a convincing dominant.

This convenient inconsistency seems most apparent in his scenes with Susan Brown, where one sometimes gets the impression he is reading lines from a children's play, and yet at other times, he's the worldly older lover who cannot be bothered with such a vapid and square youth. His age seems to veer from 21 to 33, and back again, in according to the scene's mode.

Unlike Signoret, Harvey doesn't adjust to the script's unevenness. He can be a faltering innocent with Alice or he can as likely be her suave superior. His juvenile jealous tirade over Alice's artist model experience is one of several examples of his character deviations. His venom here makes Mr Brown, the villainous capitalist, seem both relatively mild and complex.

However, it's true that when the love scenes with Alice move beyond the literary, Harvey does achieve remarkable acting heights. Whether Simone Signoret's ability to be more than a match for her scripted lines has been transferred to him, or because she, in her first-class artistry, has covered for him, is hard to tell but, in the end, he towers, and the movie soars, despite his and its letdowns.

Loneliness and longing in this extraordinary, ageless masterpiece. The film is dominated by the phenomenal Simone Signoret and I got dizzy looking at her beautifully complicated face. Laurence Harvey's petulance works wonders here and Jack Clayton, the director, orchestrates a soap opera for the thinking man. Everythings rings true even the most unbelievable details. The older woman syndrome is so masterfully captured here that, at times, you want to look away because the truth in Signoret's eyes is piercing as she sexily smokes her cigarette blowing the smoke right at us. I'm just rambling I know, my intention is to wet your appetite. Another extra bonus is the superb performance by Hermione Baddely, renamed by Noel Coward as Miss Gooddely. A total must!

This underseen British classic is like a breath of fresh air. Try as it might, prior to the 1960s and the American New Wave, Hollywood could never accomplish an effective sense of realism. Across the Atlantic, the story was an altogether different one: much of their shooting took place on-location in the breathtaking British countryside, or otherwise in the the shabby slums of the lower-class, successfully identifying audiences with the "common man." This realism is clearly evident in many of the Ealing comedies of the late 1940s and 1950s, but, with 'Room at the Top (1959),' British film-making reached a new peak of maturity. A frank and uncompromising treatment of sexuality and class prejudices, Jack Clayton's extraordinary feature-length debut was a seminal work in the development of adult-themed cinema, a commercial and critical success despite being branded with an X-rating in the UK. The brilliance of this film, coupled with that of 'The Innocents (1961)' two years later, leads me to wonder why I don't hear of this director with much greater frequency.

Joe Lampton (Laurence Harvey) is an ambitious young government accountant, proud of his lower-class heritage but determined to ascend the social ladder. Though he loathes the pretension and prejudices of Britain's wealthy upper-class, he is nonetheless determined to become one of them, a hypocrisy that triggers with in him an indescribable inner-torment. With this goal in mind, Lampton sets his sights on the innocent, virginal Susan Brown (Heather Sears), daughter of the most powerful man in town. He tries vainly to justify his advances through the pretext of love, all the while knowing that his intentions are strictly opportunistic. Alice Aisgill (Simone Signoret), a married French woman ten years his senior, proves Lampton's greatest obstacle to wealth, for he soon finds himself falling in love with her, for real this time. Torn between his affection for Alice and his ambitions towards prosperity and respectability, Lampton must eventually choose between the two, the consequences of his decision leaving an empty void where once there had been a bright, fresh and conscientious young man.

Impeccably shot in crisp black-and-white by Freddie Francis, 'Room at the Top' is a refreshing dose of mature drama, and occasionally an angry, scathing assault on the British class system. Laurence Harvey, in the main role, positively burns with rage as the moral-deprived young businessman, progressively less and less identifiable to the audience as he becomes those whom he despises (indeed, near the film's end, he even goes by the name of his sworn foe, Jack Wales). Simone Signoret, a surprise Oscar-winner that year, is smooth, knowing and assertive, with just a fatal hint of vulnerability, as Harvey's sincere but ultimately hopeless lover. Of the main performers, Heather Sears is least impressive, but her appearance could nonetheless put an end to a nagging question: who voiced the child-actor Martin Stephens in 'Village of the Damned (1960)' and 'The Innocents (1961)?' Though no such dubbing was credited, I realised straight away, without a quiver of uncertainty, that Sears spoke with exactly the same voice – either she dubbed Stephens, or a third-party dubbed the both of them.

This is an excellent film. The human traits of ambition and greed are played out wonderfully by the well selected cast. Harvey is his usual dour self and the industrial settings of urban England add to the melancholy mood of the film. He is so good as the misguided protagonist that you end up supporting his machinations. For me it seemed to reflect the constant battle between the classes, and the value of merit and truth in life.