11 OCTOBER 1946, Page 12

"The Overlanders." At the Leicester Square.—" La Fenune du Boulanger."

At the Curzon.

IN a rather special way The Overlanders represents the fruition of an idea which was born during the twenties, when there was estab- lished a Government organisation known as the Empire Marketing Board. The unfortunate grocer's-shop nomenclature of this body masked a genuine appreciation of the need to bring alive to ordinary people in this country and elsewhere the essential mystique of the British Commonwealth ; and the activities of the Board's Secretary, Sir Stephen Tallents, provided an approach, both practical and visionary, to the problem of this special aspect of international under- standing. Not least, and indeed possibly the greatest of his activities, was the fostering of the documentary film according to a policy sug- gested (if so mild a term can be used) by John Grierson. Between them Tallents and Grierson laid the foundations of a new approach to public information and enlightenment. In this all media of com- munication were used, but the imaginative power of the film was the spearhead. The E.M.B. was one of the earlier victims of the national economy drive of the early thirties ; but its ideas went marching on. Today their essential validity is represented not only in the success of the documentary film movement in its own field, but also in a superbly exciting and moving film such as this.

Harry Watt, who made The Overlanders, is a product of docu- mentary. Among many documentary films to his credit may be numbered Night Mail and Target for Tonight. In his approach to feature film making he has not abandoned the original documentary thesis. With Michael Balcon as producer, he has elaborated and embroidered the idea, and now, in the sweep, range and essential humanity of this film, he has proved (at long, long last) that there are in the Commonwealth nations stories more able to fire peoples' imagination than Hollywood ever imagined.

In The Overlanders he tells the tale of the driving of vast droves of cattle from the North-West of Australia—under the threat of Japanese invasion—to the safety of Queensland, a journey of 1,600 miles. It is a perfectly simple story ; it reveals the guts and the imagination of a handful of Australians. It is also, by its nature, almost incredibly spectacular—as spectacular as the courage and dignity of man himself. It has all the superficial qualities of a super- Western from California. But it has more ; for it deals with essential issues, with functions and motivations which Hollywood can only parallel with its great pioneering films of the twenties (The Covered Wagon, The Thundering Herd, and the rest), where the spectacle was related to basic human needs and efforts, and not to artificially elaborated plots.

All through The Overlanders the question of ordinary human courage and imagination is posed, with brisk determination, in re- lation to the genuine facts of life. The cattle must be driven across the wilderness, and in the journey there are crocodiles (the most terrifying ever, by the Way), stampedes, thirst, poison weed—every possible disaster of nature and circumstance. In face of these, the human characters behave with a mixture of faith and practicality which remain absolutely convincing. And in this respect Watt is happy in using a cast of actors—real people, rather—whom we have never seen before. It is a real privilege to meet, to get to know Chips Rafferty, John Fernside and Daphne Campbell ; and if some other characters, and a somewhat unconvincing "love-interest," strike a slightly jarring note, the general vigour of the film overpasses them. In addition, the magnificent photography by Osmund Borrodaile deserves special mention • and there is a striking and suitable orchestral score by John Ireland.

In few further words one can do no more than urge an immediate viewing of The Overlanders. It signals, both by its content and its obvious success, the possibility of a whole series of films based on stories about Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Canada and (not least) India. It not only establishes Harry Watt as an important personality in British film-making ; it also points the way to a new field of expression within the Commonwealth.

No better tribute to the lamented Raimu could be paid than by the revival of La Femme du Boulanger, which I had the privilege of reviewing at length in this paper before the war. It is a simple, sincere story of French village life, with the superimposition of imaginative and emotive overtones which raise it to the highest level. Raimu's performance, as the temporarily bereft baker, i5 perfection.

BASIL WRIGHT.