THE CINEMA
" Coal Crisis " and " Margie " (Gaumont, Haymarket and Marble Arch Pavilion.)—" Hue and Cry " (Tivoli.) Coal Crisis is by far the most important of the new films. It is the seventh issue of This Modern Age, a new venture by the Rank organisation which is attempting to emulate, within British terms, the American March of Time. There is undoubtedly a place in the public cinemas for this type of screen-journalism, since it can per- form the function of a considered editorial in relation to the super- ficial and vapid spot-news reporting of the average newsreel. The early issues of This Modern Age were, however, disappointing. Their admirable photography did not atone for a tendency to meander around the subject and to miss the urgency, pointed comment, and, above all, that close and dramatic relationship between picture and commentary which was the secret of the success of the March of Time.
Recently the issue on Palestine indicated that these faults had been recognised and redressed, and now Coal Crisis establishes a stan- dard which, if it is maintained, will make This Modern Age a series of great value to the cinema-going public. The release of Coal Crisis is, of course, an almost perfect piece of timing, but its validity is long-term. Within the space of twenty minutes it succeeds in giving an objective review of the coal situation, a vivid picture of condi- tions in the mines and mining villages (good and bad) and a wholly impartial study of the problems facing the National Coal Board, behind which, we arc reminded, are ourselves, the new owners. There is a vigorous commentary, visuals which, save for a few brief scenes, are full of meaning, and a welcome use of silence instead of a symphony orchestra to add extra emphasis to the main points of the argument. In fact Coal Crisis will tell the public more about the reasons for present miseries than all the Ministerial statements and hand-outs by spokesmen and P.R.O.s have so far achieved ; and it may remind Downing Street that a constructive use of the information services must be regarded as an essential of modern government, and that it is not yet too late to make brisk and intelli- gent use of the Central Office of Information and the B.B.C.
Margie is a trifling but slightly touching little piece about American high-school life in the nineteen-twenties. The heroine (Jeanne Craine) is very innocent and wide-eyed, and wears old-fashioned knickers which fall down at unsuitable moments. There is calf-love, and then a bit of real love. The film has a pleasant period quality, with old-fashioned cars, quaint Tudor radios, cloche hats, short skirts and the Charleston. The technicolor has for once been designed with a proper eye to chiaroscuro and colour relationships, and is enhanced by the placid movements of the camera, which roams affectionately through rooms, across snowy streets, round the skating rink, and in and out of the dancers at the high-school ball. Not a memorable film, but one which gives a gentle pleasure while it lasts.
During the war Ealing Studios put out a film called Went the Day Well ? which was an imaginary study of a German paratroop attack on a small English village. I recollect it with pleasure because it made no bones about being a " let's pretend," Boy's Own Paper, adven- turesome story without any pretensions towards the higher melo- dramatics of real war. Now, in Hue and Cry, Michael Balcon and Charles Frend have carried the process a step further. Gay and light-hearted this time, they have entered the penny-dreadful field in the company of the liveliest and rowdiest bunch of kids you could wish to disturb your afternoon rest for a month of Sundays. Aptly named the " blood-and-thunder " boys, they pursue and destroy a ruthless gang of fur thieves, aided both by their native ingenuity and by the longest possible arm of coincidence. Virtually all the action takes place in the Surrealist settings of bombed areas, depart- ment stores at night and sewers. High spirits, japes and lots of action are the order of the day, and a good time is had by all except the grown-ups—among them Jack Warner, Alastair Sim and Valerie White—who are persistently knocked around and generally upset. It is all great fun, directed with daring and skill, and embellished with a witty score by Auric. In fact, if you have any cockles in your heart, Hue and Cry will warm them up no end.
BASIL WRIGHT.
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