shewhomust (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shewhomust) wrote2020-10-19 10:17 pm
shewhomust) wrote2020-10-19 10:17 pm
Friday treats
A phone call summoned us to the doctor's surgery for our flu jabs: we were a bit surprised, we'd expected to be kept waiting a while yet, but the call came and we answered. No crowds, the place was deserted: no use standing on the 'stand on this spot' under the porch, because the receptionist behind her screen can't see you, so we called out, walked in, and waited for the doctor to emerge from his room (yes, an actual doctor was doing the injections). My arm was a bit sore for a day or so, but that has passed.
Another Friday night, another pop star birthday, another movie: it doesn't seem right that Cliff Richard is younger than John Lennon, even by a matter of days. Summer Holiday (1963) certainly shows its age in a way that A Hard Day's Night (1964) doesn't, and not just because it isn't as good a film. Cliff and his companions drive their London bus south through Europe encountering national stereotypes at each stage: the French mime artist (Ron Moody), the picturesque inn in Austria where everyone breaks into a waltz (I'm sure I heard a reference to 'White Horse Inn'), the colourful peasants in Yugoslavia where Cliff inadvertently finds himself the centre of wedding festivities ... Even the Americans (not Cliff's love interest, but her scheming mother and her agent, less scheming only because he isn't as bright) are stereotypes, and treated with hostility rather than the condescension meted out to the comedy foreigners, though all is, of course, forgiven for the sake of the happy ending. But what left me speechless was the final shot; the Shadows in the uniform of evzones, the Presidential guard, playing a bouzouki arrangement of the theme tune. I'd have been happy to hear more of that music, and actually there's something rather neat about converting the distinctive march of the evzones into the Shadows' choreographed onstage moves (you couldn't call it a dance). I'm sure it wasn't intended as mockery ...
It may be evident from the above that a) I can forgive a lot in a musical and b) I am not a Cliff fan, I am a Shadows fan. On previous viewings, I've been frustrated by how little use Summer Holiday makes of the Shadows. There's a scene in a nightclub in Paris - the sort of cellar bar where Audrey Hepburn went looking for existentialist philosophers in Funny Face (1957), but now dancing to the music of the Shadows - and fragments where they appear as cyclists, and picnic around the bus.
Which is as much as you could expect, if not more - they aren't actors, they don't have acting parts in the film. On previous watching, I've been frustrated by this, but this time, knowing what to expect, I could accept Cliff's three fellow-mechanics, his gang of mates, in their own right, comedy duo Cyril (Melvyn Hayes) and Edwin (Jeremy Bulloch). For the first time I noticed that Steve, played by Teddy Green, whom I have hitherto thought of only as 'the other one' dances rings around everyone else, and I enjoyed watching him. Well, not quite everyone: he leaves Cliff looking as if he is standing still, and his dancing stands out from the ensemble in its jazzy style as well as its quality, but he isn't the only dancer in the cast. It seems a waste that when the three lads pair off with the three girls (nominally a singing group, though I don't think we ever hear them sing), Una Stubbs is allocated to Melvyn Hayes.
There is so much wrong with this film, but on an evening when the highlight of my day has been having a qualified professional stick a needle into me, as an accompaniment to a glass of wine, it can still make me smile. And this year more than every, everybody needs a summer holiday...
Another Friday night, another pop star birthday, another movie: it doesn't seem right that Cliff Richard is younger than John Lennon, even by a matter of days. Summer Holiday (1963) certainly shows its age in a way that A Hard Day's Night (1964) doesn't, and not just because it isn't as good a film. Cliff and his companions drive their London bus south through Europe encountering national stereotypes at each stage: the French mime artist (Ron Moody), the picturesque inn in Austria where everyone breaks into a waltz (I'm sure I heard a reference to 'White Horse Inn'), the colourful peasants in Yugoslavia where Cliff inadvertently finds himself the centre of wedding festivities ... Even the Americans (not Cliff's love interest, but her scheming mother and her agent, less scheming only because he isn't as bright) are stereotypes, and treated with hostility rather than the condescension meted out to the comedy foreigners, though all is, of course, forgiven for the sake of the happy ending. But what left me speechless was the final shot; the Shadows in the uniform of evzones, the Presidential guard, playing a bouzouki arrangement of the theme tune. I'd have been happy to hear more of that music, and actually there's something rather neat about converting the distinctive march of the evzones into the Shadows' choreographed onstage moves (you couldn't call it a dance). I'm sure it wasn't intended as mockery ...
It may be evident from the above that a) I can forgive a lot in a musical and b) I am not a Cliff fan, I am a Shadows fan. On previous viewings, I've been frustrated by how little use Summer Holiday makes of the Shadows. There's a scene in a nightclub in Paris - the sort of cellar bar where Audrey Hepburn went looking for existentialist philosophers in Funny Face (1957), but now dancing to the music of the Shadows - and fragments where they appear as cyclists, and picnic around the bus.
Which is as much as you could expect, if not more - they aren't actors, they don't have acting parts in the film. On previous watching, I've been frustrated by this, but this time, knowing what to expect, I could accept Cliff's three fellow-mechanics, his gang of mates, in their own right, comedy duo Cyril (Melvyn Hayes) and Edwin (Jeremy Bulloch). For the first time I noticed that Steve, played by Teddy Green, whom I have hitherto thought of only as 'the other one' dances rings around everyone else, and I enjoyed watching him. Well, not quite everyone: he leaves Cliff looking as if he is standing still, and his dancing stands out from the ensemble in its jazzy style as well as its quality, but he isn't the only dancer in the cast. It seems a waste that when the three lads pair off with the three girls (nominally a singing group, though I don't think we ever hear them sing), Una Stubbs is allocated to Melvyn Hayes.
There is so much wrong with this film, but on an evening when the highlight of my day has been having a qualified professional stick a needle into me, as an accompaniment to a glass of wine, it can still make me smile. And this year more than every, everybody needs a summer holiday...