No Rhetoric
Mr. John Pudney's script (very well handled by Mr. W. P. Rilla) did somehow communicate its author's intention—to convey a feeling of return to a place once visited in war-time. The journey itself, in a series of neat touches, gave a sensation of physical approach. Thereafter, the war-time past faded, and the Malta of the prcs:nt emerged. There were, to be sure, some Mediterranean sounds, but no overlay of atmosphere ; and the subject of the island's reconstruction came into a kind of lucid life. No rhetoric here, and none of that dramatic kind of presentation which makes my own imagination play not so much on the intended scene as on the strained Adam's apple and bulging eyeballs of the studio announcer. No rhetoric, but (in its well-chosen details) a lot of reality. I hate— I am not alone, surely ?—a radio that presumes I am half dead and have to be galvanised. If what is said is said with point, that is (I submit) enough.
Previous page
