Attack of the B’s - Billy Liar, the British New Wave and Films Beginning with the Letter ‘B’ September 5, 2007
Posted by clydefro in : Classic Films, 1960s , trackback
Through a happy coincidence, the letter ‘B’ plays a vital role in this entry. For some unknown reason, I find myself drawn to films beginning with that letter, both in watching and in writing. I’ve written about this sort of ‘B’ film more than any other letter, as evidenced by my index. It’s not the number one letter among my DVD collection, but it’s one of the most popular nonetheless. I really have no idea why this is, but I do know it’s actually caused me to purposefully avoid writing about films beginning with the letter ‘B’ until things are more evened out. Equal opportunity and so forth.
I don’t know what my favorite ‘B’ film would be or why I’d really think about such a question, but when I went to check some of my favorite directors’ filmographies I noticed that Billy Wilder (whose given first name was actually Samuel and, thus, became a ‘B’ by choice) only made one film starting with ‘B’ - Buddy, Buddy, his last and most maligned. Nicholas Ray had two excellent ones, Bigger Than Life and Bitter Victory, and another that’s significantly less accomplished, Born to Be Bad. Fritz Lang also had good luck with the letter ‘B’ - directing The Blue Gardenia, The Big Heat, and Beyond a Reasonable Doubt, all excellent films. Enough of that, though.
The real reason for this latest ‘B’ odyssey was a recent viewing of John Schlesinger’s film Billy Liar. I’d put off watching it for a few years after reading some less than favorable reviews from persons I no longer remember and from whom I now would never trust. I don’t know a great deal about the film’s star Tom Courtenay or its director, aside from the fact that Schlesinger made Midnight Cowboy, a great film that scarred me enough when I saw it initially that I’m not really anxious to see it again. I don’t like reading very much about movies I haven’t seen prior to watching them so I knew only the barest of details. Superficially, I liked the Criterion cover (original poster art, something the folks across the river should do more often), but had avoided buying it because of the scant extra features. The film is just over an hour and a half and has only a commentary and brief excerpt from a BBC program as supplements.
So I rented it and now I’m unhappy. I wish I had just bought the thing. The transfer was nothing extraordinary but more than acceptable and I didn’t have time to listen to the commentary, but I really enjoyed the film. I also realized that I have to get over my slight bias against British films. I’m afraid that most Americans fall into one of two camps regarding (non-comedic) British films. There are the small contingent of Anglophiles who love everything. I’ve not encountered these persons myself, but I know they’re out there. Then there’s the majority of Americans who have a preconception that British drama is somewhat stuffy, overly serious or with slight humor that doesn’t make sense to those who get their laughs from hearty doses of knee to the groin slapstick. I’m really not in either category, but I do admit to having a significant gap in my cinematic knowledge where it concerns British film.
Right now, I’m working my way through the 1960s in anticipation of the next entry in the Lists Project I’ve posted about previously. That means the so-called British New Wave has to be accounted for in my viewing. Thus, I finally threw Billy Liar to the top of my rental queue. I don’t have a lot of experience with this particular movement, and it doesn’t look like very many titles are currently available in R1 DVD. I did recently watch Lindsay Anderson’s If…., which I enjoyed but it didn’t give me the same emotional tug as Billy Liar. That film left me fascinated with Tom Courtenay and his film career, which is surprisingly meager and undistinguished. His performance in Billy Liar is an epic achievement and possibly my favorite from a British actor whose last name isn’t O’Toole (technically born in Ireland, but usually regarded as English). I can’t wait to dive headfirst into The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner now.
There’s so much to empathize with in Courtenay’s Billy Fisher. Apparently Courtenay understudied for Albert Finney in the stage version, but stepped in to the film when Finney was unavailable. Again, having a limited knowledge of these actors’ performances, but I think Courtenay really nailed the vulnerability of Billy much more than Finney would have. The character is portrayed as very easy to like (at least for me) and one whom the audience can immediately relate to (again, at least I could). Courtenay was the same age I am today when the film was released, despite Billy’s age supposedly being 19, I think. This just adds to the power of the film though. If Billy really was a tad older, like Courtenay, like myself, then perhaps he would have matured a bit, but his problems would seem even more difficult and affecting.
There’s a comparison that I made, after seeing the film, of Billy to Elwood P. Dowd, as played by Jimmy Stewart in Harvey. One of my favorite lines in movie history is Dowd’s “I’ve wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I’m happy to state I finally won out over it.” This, to me, is exactly what Billy is doing and what he decides at the end of the film when he heartbreakingly chooses to let Julie Christie take the train to London without him. There’s an air of giving in to the fantasy version of life and letting it rule over you while every last catastrophe goes unnoticed. An approach that’s somewhat tempting, if you ask me. Ultimately, it’s unrealistic, of course, but it seems so much simpler in theory. Instead of dealing with the world’s travesties, you’re gunning down the people who cause you grief.
It’s part of the life as futile objective approach, and sometimes I find it a little too persuasive. Still, the fantasy elements of Billy Liar are only part of what makes the film such a beautifully idealistic look at the possibilities of young dreamers. Even though the ending feels like a devastating blow to the nonconformist ideal (I was literally fighting back tears), I think Billy Liar remains a positive statement that the Billy Fishers of the world can conquer this empty abyss of humanity. Billy’s youth ultimately seems as persuasive an argument that he might one day escape the suburban jungle as the deflating feeling the audience gets from his reluctance to take that fateful train in the film. Regardless, Billy’s choice doesn’t have to be the viewer’s. I know I’d like to picture myself as across from Julie Christie rather than battling Billy’s parents each morning.
Even if Billy isn’t all of us, he’s at least a part of many of us. When I look at my own experience, I see someone who went from a rural Southern town with a population of 1,900 to living fifteen miles away from the largest city in the nation. There’s work still left to be done, sure, but it’s a start. For me, Billy is an inspiration as much as a lesson in never losing sight of the magic of individualism. Schlesinger’s film breezes by and, when it ends, you really wish it’d go on a bit longer. I’ve read that there’s a television show somewhere about Billy, and, of course, the original novel from which the play and film were adapted. I’m not sure I really want to know any more though. I’m quite happy with the version I’ve seen and can’t imagine anyone else bringing more to the character than what Courtenay did.
Comments»
I watched ‘Billy Liar’ again just a couple of weeks ago on the big screen (it looked fantastic), and to this small town northern Englishman, it’s always spoken volumes. Even better, both my son and daughter thoroughly enjoyed it.
Nice work clydefro, does my heart good to see you write so positively about British film; you’ll love ‘Loneliness…’