Pas de larmes pour Joy

Not a film of entertainment, but of real lives & limited ambition for the working class in 60's. Enjoyable because of my upbringing, not sure it'd work for most people. Typical Loach. Full of TV actors/actresses of 70's/80's/90's.

One of the best of the 'kitchen-sinks'. Fantastic views of London and invaluable snippets of working class life of the 60's. Loach's eye seems to capture everything, yet makes no judgment - a taste of things to come. As with 'Kes', 'Riff-raff' and 'Sweet Sixteen', it serves as a cinematic social history of Britain. Carol White is completely convincing, you love her, fancy her, want to take care of her, but hold your head at her self-destructive decisions and still follow her in some vain hope. Well backed up by Terence Stamp, ( fresh off 'The collector', also catch 'The Hit' ) and a plethora of English faces ( all looking very young ). Pefectly set to Donovan's dulcet tones. Stamp sings 'Yellow is the color', in a lovely scene, ending with him saying, " Getting better, ain't I " ( song also used in 'The rules of Attraction' - I think ) Watch Carol Whites screen mum getting ready to 'go out and get a bloke', putting on her false eye-lashes to the sound of 'Rosie' on the radio - priceless. A treasure for anyone who was around at the time and a reminder of how good life is now in England. Incidentally Soderburgh used clips from 'Poor cow' in 'The Limey'.

Beginning with an eye-watering sequence depicting the birth of Carol White's baby boy. Thanks to director 'Kenneth' (as he was then billed) Loach's restless camerawork (punctuated by Godardian captions) the sixties here sways rather than swings in a film that manages to encompass nearly a century of British film history through the presence in the same picture of both Wally Patch and Malcolm MacDowall (not to mention future sitcom stars Kate Williams and Anna Karen); and it's apt that over thirty years later scenes from this of the young and saturnine Terence Stamp strumming his guitar were employed as flashbacks in 'The Limey' (1999).

Although it didn't seem like it at the time, we're now nearly twice as far from the sixties as the sixties were from the thirties. Life at the bottom of the heap remains as bleak in the twenty-first century as ever, and continues (doubtless to no one's regret more than Loach himself) to provide him with plenty of material. In his eighties he doesn't seem able to retire just yet.

You know what to expect when the first scene in Ken Loach's "Poor Cow" is a graphic image of Carol White's character giving birth to her son, although for my taste this was taking documentary realism to extremes. For the remainder of the film we follow White's progress, if that's the right word, for the next few years as she lives a mostly tawdry life on the edge of both poverty and legality, interacting with a mostly dubious set of individuals in not-so-swinging London in the mid-60's.

The narrative is somewhat awkwardly interspersed with chapter plates, presumably written by White, although these don't actually aid the structure of the piece as the film progresses pretty much on a tangential basis although as an insight into her character's naive optimism and childlike simplicity, they may serve some purpose.

Loach's soon to be trademark fly-on-the-wall camera-work is never still, long-shots, extreme close-ups, walking shots, tracking shots all to convince us like his acclaimed TV documentary "Cathy Come Home", of the previous year (with the same actress in the lead) of the veracity of his subject, stripping away all cinematic artifice. In this he succeeds, inviting no pity for her, only portraying her making do and working with what she has, with little prospect of escape.

Of course this unremittingly bleak outlook can be overbearing and cold and there are many scenes where he could and should have called "Cut!" earlier, but as an insight into the working class of supposedly affluent Britain, it's important to hold up a mirror to society as he does here.

In the final scenes, when White is reunited with her temporarily lost child, we are brought full-circle to that shocking opening scene as he reminds us that family love is perhaps the only true love. Whether it will be enough of a basis for White to break out and make a life for herself and her son is debatable so that some sort of a sequel might have been interesting to consider.

The cast is an interesting one with Terence Stamp demonstrating his range as the crook who White falls for and who shows her a kind of loving, even as the film makes clear in the only stagy scene in the film, his courtroom trial, that there are no victimless crimes. As in "Cathy Come Home", White holds the viewer's attention with her disarming honesty, vulnerability and spirit. Interesting to see the notorious John Pindin in a prominent role too.

You don't watch a Loach film for comfortable viewing but as an agent-provocateur, turning over stones most would step over, he's an important director in British cinema.

Recently released on British DVD, this is a good movie (as long as you have an attention span and IQ of more than a fruit fly). Not as depressing as it could have been, this is kitchen-sink at its most dirty. Terrance Stamp is great in it, the music is sweet, Carol White is very believeable as the single mum tart who can't stop loving criminals.

My favourite scene is where Carol and her friend who works in the pub with her (the one with the enormous beehive hairdo which comes down over one eye) sit outisde and gossip about all the men who walk past.

The only thing that marred this was the shakey acting of Carol's first husband, but if you can get past that, you're OK. And Donovan provides some of the most languid, mellow, bittersweet lyrics to come out of the 60s.