A solid cinematic adaptation of Priestley's classic play, first performed on a London stage in 1946, made more memorable by a captivating performance from Alistair Sim. Since that premiere performance on the stage by Sir Ralph Richardson, the eponymous, unexpected, and unappreciated visitor to the Birling household has been embodied by many a seasoned thespian, but never so enthralling as by Sim.
This is partly due to the fact that he portrays a much less abrasive figure than customary. His physicality, from towering presence to heavy-lidded, deep-set eyes, and avuncular, searching expression, embellishes his ability to embody more of an inquisitor examining the souls of those present than a mere police officer examining the details of the case.
The original play was set in 1912 and took a scalpel to cut through middle-class hypocrisy to reveal the paucity of morals beneath the veneer of respectability. Indeed, so biting was it's social critique, that it would be staged in Moscow and Leningrad, a full twelve months before any British theatre dared to produce it. Though this feature is largely adapted from the source material, and ably directed by Guy Hamilton, who would later find greater renown in bringing the far more flamboyant 007 to the 'big screen', this production did introduce a couple of aspects which would impact upon its interpretation of Priestley's work.
The first of these concerns the character of the Inspector, stemming from the decision to alter our protagonist's name from 'Inspector Goole' in the play to 'Inspector Poole' here. In doing so, those behind the film have distanced their product from Priestley's clumsier indication of the Inspector's possible spectral nature through his obvious 'play on words' of the character's name. There has been much heated debate over the reason for this change, but the most obvious, and most convincing, is that the audience making such a connection too early would result in a loss of suspense. In this instance the audience are more loosely guided in their interpretation by the question embedded in the film's tagline: 'Is he real or the creature of conscience?'
What is apparent is that there are indications of the otherworldly nature of our main protagonist throughout the film - firstly, as opposed to the play where he is shown in by a maid, here he appears in the dining room from nowhere; then, accompanied by an ominous chord of music, he announces the arrival of the Birlings' son and begs him enter before there is any sign of him; and finally, there is his disappearance from the study when his exit would have had to have been seen by all present.
The second change to the structure of the play is the inclusion of flashback sequences to 'flesh out', and join together, how each member of the Birling family has had some part to play in the course of events leading to the tragic suicide of a young woman, known to them all. As such, we witness the sacking of Eva Smith by Mr Birling for having joined some of her workmates in questioning whether their salary was a liveable wage. She then suffers at the hands of his daughter, Sheila, after the latter complains, in a pique of jealousy, over the lack of courtesy shown to her by Eva in serving her in a department-store.
The social engagement which the Inspector's visit has interrupted is the family celebration of Sheila's engagement to one Gerald Croft. Upon the Inspector's revealing that the young lady changed her name to Daisy Renton, we learn that Croft had taken pity on the impoverished girl, before more callously taking her as his mistress. This revelation, which appears to place at risk the engagement of Sheila to Gerald Croft, amounts to the final fall from grace for Eva Smith. The destitute and pregnant young woman then appears before the committee of a women's charity, headed by Mrs Birling, to apply for financial assistance. Mrs Birling unsympathetically turns down her plea, chiding her for not seeking the support of the baby's father. Finally, the audience learns that the father of the unborn child is the Birling's son, Eric, having forced himself upon Daisy, and having stolen funds from his father's business to support her.
Within the play, there remains greater possibility that the victim is a composite portrait of more than one girl, explaining why the Inspector on stage is so guarded in each unveiling of the photograph. Priestley's tolerance of ambiguity on this point allows for the work to accrue much more of the nature of a parable on social responsibility and a vision of shared humanity. By establishing a narrative thread in direct relation to Eva/Daisy, the film makes clear this is not an allegory and so can avoid Priestley's sermonising tone. This explains the absence within the film of the Inspector's fundamental final speech in which he serves as the instrument for the author's socialist message on morality: 'there are millions...of Eva Smiths and John Smiths left with us, with their lives, their hopes and fears, their suffering and a chance of happiness, all intertwined with our lives and what we think say and do.'
However what both play and film share, aside from revealing issues of class conflict, is evidence of a generational conflict in that, as opposed to the genuine remorse for their actions displayed by their children, the parents refuse to countenance their own culpability for the girl's fate. Once it becomes clear that there is no Inspector Poole known to the local authorities, Mr and Mrs Birling appear to have their prejudices regalvanised, and so, it is even more satisfyingly foreboding and poignant, with Priestley's penchant for time-shifts in his theatrical work once more apparent, that a phone call to the Birling residence after the Inspector's disappearance relays the news of the recent suicide of a young woman. Priestley was an advocate of J W Dunne's theory of 'serial time' which stated that the past, present, and future were all taking place at one and the same time, and that the perception of time as linear stemmed from human consciousness.
The supporting cast all perform admirably, and, in particular, the flashback sequences serve as the means for Jane Wenham, the future first wife of Albert Finney, to deliver a touching performance as the ill-fated young girl in what was to be her promising debut in ultimately a very short-lived film career. Eileen Moore, the first wife of George Cole, who himself makes an uncredited performance here as a tram conductor, is commendable as Sheila Birling, as is Brian Worth as her intended husband-to-be. In addition, this feature serves to remind us how capable a young actor Bryan Forbes was, before his move to screenwriting and direction. Interestingly, both Hamilton and Forbes would turn down the offer to direct the opening feature in the 007 franchise: 'Dr No'.
Yet, this film exemplifies above all else Sim's under-appreciated versatility as an actor. Released in the same year as Sim's much more treasured incarnation of the headmistress of St Trinians, it is a shame that his appearances in dramatic roles were not as heralded. Given his character's spectral appearance and disappearance, it is perhaps fitting that this film, in which his dramatic talents were so evident, was coincidentally scheduled the night he passed on to whatever lies beyond this existence.
This is partly due to the fact that he portrays a much less abrasive figure than customary. His physicality, from towering presence to heavy-lidded, deep-set eyes, and avuncular, searching expression, embellishes his ability to embody more of an inquisitor examining the souls of those present than a mere police officer examining the details of the case.
The original play was set in 1912 and took a scalpel to cut through middle-class hypocrisy to reveal the paucity of morals beneath the veneer of respectability. Indeed, so biting was it's social critique, that it would be staged in Moscow and Leningrad, a full twelve months before any British theatre dared to produce it. Though this feature is largely adapted from the source material, and ably directed by Guy Hamilton, who would later find greater renown in bringing the far more flamboyant 007 to the 'big screen', this production did introduce a couple of aspects which would impact upon its interpretation of Priestley's work.
The first of these concerns the character of the Inspector, stemming from the decision to alter our protagonist's name from 'Inspector Goole' in the play to 'Inspector Poole' here. In doing so, those behind the film have distanced their product from Priestley's clumsier indication of the Inspector's possible spectral nature through his obvious 'play on words' of the character's name. There has been much heated debate over the reason for this change, but the most obvious, and most convincing, is that the audience making such a connection too early would result in a loss of suspense. In this instance the audience are more loosely guided in their interpretation by the question embedded in the film's tagline: 'Is he real or the creature of conscience?'
What is apparent is that there are indications of the otherworldly nature of our main protagonist throughout the film - firstly, as opposed to the play where he is shown in by a maid, here he appears in the dining room from nowhere; then, accompanied by an ominous chord of music, he announces the arrival of the Birlings' son and begs him enter before there is any sign of him; and finally, there is his disappearance from the study when his exit would have had to have been seen by all present.
The second change to the structure of the play is the inclusion of flashback sequences to 'flesh out', and join together, how each member of the Birling family has had some part to play in the course of events leading to the tragic suicide of a young woman, known to them all. As such, we witness the sacking of Eva Smith by Mr Birling for having joined some of her workmates in questioning whether their salary was a liveable wage. She then suffers at the hands of his daughter, Sheila, after the latter complains, in a pique of jealousy, over the lack of courtesy shown to her by Eva in serving her in a department-store.
The social engagement which the Inspector's visit has interrupted is the family celebration of Sheila's engagement to one Gerald Croft. Upon the Inspector's revealing that the young lady changed her name to Daisy Renton, we learn that Croft had taken pity on the impoverished girl, before more callously taking her as his mistress. This revelation, which appears to place at risk the engagement of Sheila to Gerald Croft, amounts to the final fall from grace for Eva Smith. The destitute and pregnant young woman then appears before the committee of a women's charity, headed by Mrs Birling, to apply for financial assistance. Mrs Birling unsympathetically turns down her plea, chiding her for not seeking the support of the baby's father. Finally, the audience learns that the father of the unborn child is the Birling's son, Eric, having forced himself upon Daisy, and having stolen funds from his father's business to support her.
Within the play, there remains greater possibility that the victim is a composite portrait of more than one girl, explaining why the Inspector on stage is so guarded in each unveiling of the photograph. Priestley's tolerance of ambiguity on this point allows for the work to accrue much more of the nature of a parable on social responsibility and a vision of shared humanity. By establishing a narrative thread in direct relation to Eva/Daisy, the film makes clear this is not an allegory and so can avoid Priestley's sermonising tone. This explains the absence within the film of the Inspector's fundamental final speech in which he serves as the instrument for the author's socialist message on morality: 'there are millions...of Eva Smiths and John Smiths left with us, with their lives, their hopes and fears, their suffering and a chance of happiness, all intertwined with our lives and what we think say and do.'
However what both play and film share, aside from revealing issues of class conflict, is evidence of a generational conflict in that, as opposed to the genuine remorse for their actions displayed by their children, the parents refuse to countenance their own culpability for the girl's fate. Once it becomes clear that there is no Inspector Poole known to the local authorities, Mr and Mrs Birling appear to have their prejudices regalvanised, and so, it is even more satisfyingly foreboding and poignant, with Priestley's penchant for time-shifts in his theatrical work once more apparent, that a phone call to the Birling residence after the Inspector's disappearance relays the news of the recent suicide of a young woman. Priestley was an advocate of J W Dunne's theory of 'serial time' which stated that the past, present, and future were all taking place at one and the same time, and that the perception of time as linear stemmed from human consciousness.
The supporting cast all perform admirably, and, in particular, the flashback sequences serve as the means for Jane Wenham, the future first wife of Albert Finney, to deliver a touching performance as the ill-fated young girl in what was to be her promising debut in ultimately a very short-lived film career. Eileen Moore, the first wife of George Cole, who himself makes an uncredited performance here as a tram conductor, is commendable as Sheila Birling, as is Brian Worth as her intended husband-to-be. In addition, this feature serves to remind us how capable a young actor Bryan Forbes was, before his move to screenwriting and direction. Interestingly, both Hamilton and Forbes would turn down the offer to direct the opening feature in the 007 franchise: 'Dr No'.
Yet, this film exemplifies above all else Sim's under-appreciated versatility as an actor. Released in the same year as Sim's much more treasured incarnation of the headmistress of St Trinians, it is a shame that his appearances in dramatic roles were not as heralded. Given his character's spectral appearance and disappearance, it is perhaps fitting that this film, in which his dramatic talents were so evident, was coincidentally scheduled the night he passed on to whatever lies beyond this existence.