MamaGravity
good back-story, and good acting
Acensbart
Excellent but underrated film
Kirandeep Yoder
The joyful confection is coated in a sparkly gloss, bright enough to gleam from the darkest, most cynical corners.
JohnHowardReid
Copyright 20 January 1949 by London Film Productions, Inc. New York opening at the Trans-Lux 72nd Street: 1 February 1952 (sic). U.S. release through Snader Productions. U.K. release through London Films: 21 February 1949. Australian release through Universal- International: 3 November 1949. 9,620 feet. 107 minutes.Alternate U.S. release title: HOUR OF GLORY.SYNOPSIS: A back-room scientist meets his greatest challenge when called on to defuse a German bomb.COMMENT: Although handicapped by the serious miscasting of Kathleen Byron as the heroine, this is an engrossing, well-written (the phraseology and nuances of Civil Service talk are expertly captured) and often inventively directed (the sequence with the clocks) picture of back-room boffins engaged in secret war work.David Farrar does a sterling job keeping audience sympathy way up for what is basically a rather unpleasant character. Good to see Jack Hawkins too — and as the villain for once. Fine character studies from a whole range of people from Michael Gough through Sidney James to Milton Rosmer and Robert Morley. The last-named makes a surprise guest appearance, and his comic scene, although short, is the one, next to the super-suspenseful climax, that everyone remembers.A bit of trimming would certainly improve the movie, however. There are too many sub-plots (Cyril Cusack's wife, for example) and Kathleen Byron just can't help looking sinister even when she's supposed to be friendly.Although the theme has since been worked to death, "The Small Back Room" has it all over Time Bomb, Ten Seconds to Hell and the rest in both meticulous background and moodily stylish film noir photography.OTHER VIEWS: Based on Nigel Balchin's anti-heroic novel, the story of Sammy Rice's obsessive quest to understand the workings of a new German bomb, is intertwined with his tortured love for Susan. Low- key, shadowy interiors alternate with the bleak landscapes of bomb- disposal areas in a film now widely hailed as an authentic British film noir.
Robert J. Maxwell
It's a movie about war-time Britain released in 1949 but it's in no way a typical "British war movie". (Some of them were real gems.) This one has David Ferrar as an anti-demolition expert, part of a team that operates in a small room in the back. He doesn't wear a uniform. He has a tin leg. And he's in a state of constant torment.I had no idea where the movie was going. At first, I expected a kind of British "Hurt Locker," with Ferrar going about an dismantling bombs one after another, always cursing and wondering if he should cut the red wire or the green wire. It's not like that at all. Ferrar only disarms one booby-trapped device in a tense scene at the end. It's well done.But then if Ferrar doesn't constantly investigate and defuse bombs, what's the movie about? Well, it's like this. He has a slight problem with the bottle in that when he gets juiced up he's mean and destructive. He also has a problem with the bureaucracy of which he's part -- mostly incompetent, groveling, and designing. Then there's this woman, Kathleen Byron, who loves him and maybe he loves her but he's too sour to admit it. It doesn't even help when he dresses him down for his bitterness and shouts at him to "stop feeling sorry for yourself!" He finally gets his act together after removing the fangs from that beachfront booby trap while hung over and shaky.At the beginning, to demonstrate their relationship, Byron and Ferrar are alone in his apartment, they have an expositional conversation about his tin leg and what he does to ease its discomfort. The scene ends with Byron running to him and their clasping each other in their arms while lying on the couch. Dissolve. When I was a child I always thought that she returned to her own apartment across the hall when a scene ended like this.Byron has haunted eyes that stare out from under her upper lids and her other features -- her jaw, her nose, her tiny lips -- all seem to point to a particular spot in front of her mouth, about a cigarette's length. If you haven't seen Kathleen Byron go mad in "Black Narcissus," you might want to try it.The same writers and directors -- Powell and Pressburger -- are responsible for this film and it shows. There are more than the usual number of dramatic close ups. And when Ferrar is alone in his dark apartment, trying to fight the desire to hit that bottle of Scotch on the table, the camera angles and lighting first get weird and then hallucinatory.The imagery gets too bizarre in that scene. Also they've done a little miscasting. Jack Hawkins is a grinning, glad-handing, money-grubbing phony -- a repulsive character. But Jack Hawkins is no phony. He's a voice of authority and a paragon of common sense. Don't try to pull the wool over this boy's eyes. But those two points aside, it's put together well considering the multiple sub plots. And that bomb being emasculated is a teeth grinder.
mark.waltz
I certainly can see why some people refer to this movie as a small masterpiece. I did not go into it expecting big things like the previous Powell/Pressburger classics "Black Narcissus" and "The Red Shoes". However, rather than find this to be an interesting psychological drama about one man's battle with alcohol due to pressures in his professional life and a handicap that has obviously made him bitter, I found a rather claustrophobic, talkie drama that for the most part failed to hold my interest and left me scrambling to find my way back when all of a sudden things began to really happen. The sudden appearance of a giant booze bottle overshadowing its leading man (David Farrar) reminded me of things that audiences had already seen on screen in films prior to this: Ray Milland's withdrawal in "The Lost Weekend" and Gregory Peck's nightmares in "Spellbound". Having been bored for 90 minutes when this came up, I found myself chuckling at it. But then it got serious when the film began to deal with Farrar's profession and all the chat that had gone on before: defusing a bomb found on the beach. This comes in the last ten minutes of the film, and is as nail biting as everything else before was sleep inducing. Had the first 75% of the film been more like this and filled with less exposition, I would certainly find it a masterpiece.
Terrell-4
Sammy Rice (David Farrar) is a first-rate scientist and something of an expert in defusing bombs. The year is 1943 and the Germans have starting dropping a new kind of terror weapon on Britain. It's something small, evidently attractive to children, and explodes either when it's picked up or just touched. No one is sure because the three children and one adult who did touch the things were killed. Rice is asked to investigate by the Army. He says he has to have an unexploded device to work on; that he'll come as soon as the Army calls him. Rice, it happens, has also lost his foot and wears a metal one. He suffers pain from it and is well into a self-pitying meltdown fueled by alcohol. Susan (Kathleen Byron), the woman who loves him, understands what he's going through but sooner or later will have enough of his self-involvement. "Sue, you'd have such a good life without me," he tells her in a nightclub. "I take things from you with both hands. I always have. I always will." Sammy Rice has to deal with his self-imposed isolation, his drinking and his unwillingness to face up to the fact that he has an artificial foot. Through all this, the group of scientists and managers Rice works with has come up with an anti-tank gun some feel is ready to sell to the government. He doesn't, but he's not willing to go against the consensus. Then, deep in an alcoholic haze, he gets the phone call. Two devices have been discovered. One is now being worked on by the Army captain who first asked him to help. It probably goes without saying that soon there is no Army captain and only one remaining device. Rice leaves for the English coast where the device is half buried in the sand. What he does with it will determine not only his life, but will affect his whole outlook on himself, his worth and his willingness to accept responsibility. Sound a little...well, uninvolving? The Small Back Room features some very good acting, excellent dialogue, one of Michael Powell's quirky internal surrealistic scenes (as Rice fights his compulsion to have a drink) and an extremely well-handled and tense final twenty-five minutes as Rice works to defuse the bomb. On the whole, though, it seems to me that Powell and Pressburger, after such a run of great movies they created in the Forties, used The Small Back Room as a way to step back and let out a long breath. The movie is by no means a let- down, but the sulky self-pity of Sammy Rice leaves little room for us to get willingly involved with him. This is a problem because the movie, despite an exciting premise with the new- type of German bomb and the excitement of the last third of the film, is essentially a character study in Rice's self-pity. Sammy Rice starts out gloomy and unhappy, and he stays that way throughout the movie until he walks across the sand to see if he can defuse the bomb. Powell and Pressburger's subversive humor (a dolt of a governmental minister, a glad- handing arms manager) is amusing but we still wind up with Rice feeling sorry for himself. I think it's fair to say that The Small Back Room marks the coming decline of Powell and Pressburger. The Tales of Hoffmann was still to be made, but with that exception every movie following The Small Back Room marked a decline in the kind of original, unusual cinematic storytelling that was the hallmark of The Archers. They had to deal with studio moneymen who gradually assumed control over the freedom that they had enjoyed with J. Arthur Rank and Alexander Korda. They, especially Powell, found it increasingly difficult to find subject matter that exited them. At one point four years elapsed before they took on a new project. The Archers last movie turned out to be something Powell swore he'd never make after all those Quota Quickies in the Thirties, a programmer. They drifted apart, still friends, and went their own ways. For those who admire Powell and Pressburger, The Small Back Room is well worth having. In addition to Farrar and Byron, both of whom were in Black Narcissus, there are a number of fine actors to enjoy, such as Jack Hawkins, Cyril Cusack, Sid James, Leslie Banks, Michael Gough, Robert Morley and Renee Asherson.
