Scorpio (1971) + Innocent Bystanders (1972)

December 18, 2015 | By

There are many kinds of splinter spy films that emerged during the success of the first few James Bond films, but the spy / espionage genre has been alive & well for decades – Fritz Lang’s Spies / Spione (1928) is still a brilliant, breakneck pulp thriller – but it’s just that Bond turned it into a moneymaker and proved you could serialize the character, fine-tuning adventures according to whatever was in vogue at the time.

That’s been Bond’s success – the ability to survive rather than thrive, even when the character went from a hard-edged agent to a super hero, then self-effacing comic book hero, an old man paired with absurdly young women, and later attempts to rework the character in an AIDS era, another period of blockbuster escapism, and a complete overhaul after a dismal entry and an actor who’d had enough of, well, crappy scripts.

I’m not naming human & film names because would refocus this short preamble into something directly tied to Bond, and spies existed long before Sean Connery donned the toupee and transformed a genre into a phenomenon. (The producers also launched a short-lived alternative franchise using Len Deighton’s Harry Palmer character in The Ipcress File, while the Italians had loads of fun with spy spoofs that sometimes contains actors and relatives from the real Bond films.)

CasinoRoyale1967Where the genre went from serious to action, spoof to bloated super-productions (Casino Royale), the seventies matched the tone of the decade’s cynicism, and perhaps a reality that governments west and east where doing rotten things in parts of Europe and Africa, trying to influence and maintain control through friendly regimes, and ensure right relations would also yield favourable trade agreements.

Nightcomers1971In this double-bill of reviews, the focus is on the works of Michael Winner and Peter Collinson, and like Twilight Time’s Julie Kirgo, I’ve not a fan of the former. He was a peculiar director to managed to enjoy a career in spite of some mediocre / awful work, especially in his later career. Winner actually contributed a commentary to the Region DVD edition of The Nightcomers (1971), and if I recall correctly, he knew (or perhaps credited himself) in being able to ‘handle’ stars, name actors like Brando and Lancaster that often intimidated directors. Even Connery wasn’t someone with whom you’d mess with, and TT’s co-commentator / historian Lem Dobbs recalls how Lancaster would get cranky and pick on a director because it was a thing he did near the end of a film shoot.

Iconic director John Ford was known for picking a whipping boy during production, and actors claimed Charles Chaplin was an absolute shit towards younger brother Sidney who acted in a few of his films, including the dreary A Countess from Hong Kong (1967), the director’s swan song.

Why people can be bastards are part of the peculiar human psychology, and the same could asked of why certain directors have a thing for bleak subjects, where their supposed heroes aren’t just on the run, but have already been brutalized to the point where they just don’t give a shit as they mete out revenge.

Revenge is a major ingredient in the spy genre – even Bond indulges in some sweet payback in For Your Eyes Only (1981), perhaps the most quixotic Bond film that starts off with comedic action and features absurd Keatonesque moments until a good agent is killed. The scene where Bond (Roger Moore) confronts the killer, flings a memento at him, and pushes the perched Mercedes off a cliff is perhaps the darkest moment within Moore’s Bond catalogue, and arguably one of his best moments on film. He also gives a cold, frank speech to his love interest about revenge before the inevitable happy ending, but I’m digressing a bit again, as the focus is really the cynical seventies spy films and the worldviews of directors Michael Winner and Peter Collinson.

Scorpio1971_BRTwilight Time’s release of Scorpio (1971) features a great transfer and superb conversational commentary track where no one especially likes Winner but makes very reasonable concessions in light of the film’s genuine quality, whereas Collinson’s Innocent Bystanders (1972) from Olive Films offers up a nasty little movie that reflects the director’s penchant for human misery.

I’ve mentioned in the past something called British Bleakism, a view where the world is shit and there’s no bloody hope because people just can’t learn from mistakes and will eke out godawful lives because its in the cards. I could lump in Witchfinder General (1968) where the film opens and closes with horrific screams, Threads (1984) in which you’re better off killing yourself than trying to survive a post-nuclear world, When the Wind Blows (1986) in which a fussy aging couple are so isolated from reality that in clinging to arcane beliefs in good government ultimately has them dying of radiation poisoning onscreen slowly, and to some extent Angel (1982) where life on the run isn’t filled with action, romance, and excitement, but innocent bystanders whose lives are ruined by the protagonist.

Collinson’s appropriately titled film also stars one of my favourite British actors of all-time, Stanley Baker, a great character actor who was like the no-bullshit John Wayne. He could play a man in any career – a loyal Royal Navy sergeant in the excellent The Cruel Sea (1953); a copper investigating a robbery in one of Val Guest’s best films, the nourish Hell is a City (1960); an ex-con who we know from the onset won’t be able to survive civilian life in Joseph Losey’s superb The Criminal (1960), and a guilt-ridden novelist in Losey’s ludicrously arty but weirdly hypnotic Eva (1962); and the hitman who’s ready to become someone’s else’s target after fulfilling perhaps the only goal of meaning in his life, executing his brother’s killers in Mike Hodges’ unforgiving Get Carter (1971).

Baker acted in many classic films, but Innocent Bystanders was reportedly his last feature film as star. He could carry a film on his own with ease because of his unique cinematic presence: tough, virile, yet a face that often captured the essence of a survivor of something – war, being a poseur, or in the case of Bystanders, a burned-out agent still trying to grapple with the effects of torture below the belt. One pivotal scene could be read as a torture sequence, but it’s really a clever comment on what remains in the mind of a battered human after he or she’s been forcibly pushed beyond all realms of decency and humanity. Collinson didn’t direct the scene for thrills or exploitive value, but to show the hell that resides in this otherwise tough guy who before and after the sequence still manages to fend of the worst of British and Russian spies. It’s the cutaways to details and reserved but readable character reactions that show a maturity in the way Baker tackled roles, and Collinson could handle complex psychologies.

InnocentBystandersWhile Baker’s career wound down after Bystanders, Collinson managed to survive with international co-productions instead of tumbling into TV, or as with elder colleague Val Guest, making sex dramas like Au Pair Girls (1972), or saddled with the terrible scripts of Space: 1999 (1976-1977).

There’s a lot of British talent that contributed to great screen classics, so call this a personal request to untangle the legal headaches and apathy that keeps the films of Guest, Collinson, and Baker away from home video, and allow indie labels to not only release them, but do so as proper special editions (with isolated scores by their respectively under-represented, arguably forgotten composers).

And sure, some of Winner’s early work. Might as well see where the shit disturber honed his skills.

I’ve got reviews of Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966) from Synapse Films and Deutschland 83 (2015) from KINO on the go, both of which should be up by the weekend.

Cheers,

 

 

Mark R. Hasan, Editor
KQEK.com

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