The Gentleman - 2025 film review

Ron Perlman is a charismatic actor and his presence in the cast is enough to make The Gentleman worth a look. This recent film is set in Basque country and the script is adapted from a novel by Carlo Augustus Casas and directed by Luis Gabriel Beristain. It's a violent film, but is short enough not to outstay its welcome.

The set up is that Perlman's character, the eponymous 'Gentleman', is a retired American soldier now living in Spain. He has no family, and his closest male friend is terminally ill with cancer, but his loneliness is relieved by regular get-togethers with a young woman called Olga. He enjoys her company and pays for her time, and although she's a sex worker with an unpleasant pimp (is there any other sort) she seems to have a genuine enough liking for him.

However, Olga gets involved with a small group of lawyers (always a mistake, a cynic might say) and is murdered for pleasure. The Gentleman - we soon realise it's a term used with some irony in this film - is appalled and decides to embark on a quest for vengeance. It seems that his previous military career didn't equip him for this, and he's soon found out when spying on one of the lawyers and beaten up. But he becomes savvier and more effective in his approach, while making little effort to cover his tracks.

Meanwhile, Olga's murder is investigated by a woman detective whose marriage has fallen apart, and her sardonic sidekick, and this strand of the story culminates in a nice plot twist. The Gentleman's campaign for violence continues in the meantime, with ever more bloody results. This film isn't by any means a masterpiece, but thanks to a very strong and understated performance by Perlman, I found it surprisingly watchable despite an indifferent script which isn't without plot holes.  

Fanny Lye Deliver'd - 2019 film review

I chanced upon Fanny Lye Deliver'd on Amazon Prime, and although I'd never heard of the film, the cast was strong enough for me to give it a go. Charles Dance, Maxine Peake, Freddie Fox, what could possibly go wrong? Well, for quite a while I did wonder if I'd made a big mistake. The opening is glacially slow-paced, with a voiceover that I found less than enthralling.

Luckily, things then began to become more interesting (if quite dark). The film is set in 1657 on a remote Shropshire farm (although I didn't detect anything that was particularly relevant to Shropshire; it might have been anywhere that was deep in the countryside). This was the time when Britain was in the grip of the Puritans, before the return of Charles II and if you wanted an advertisement for the benefits of a monarchy rather than a republic, this film might be it.

Charles Dance is John Lye, a deeply religious, tough farmer, who rules his wife Fanny and young son Arthur with a rod of iron. Their lives are disrupted by the sudden arrival of two naked people, Thomas (Fox) and Rebecca (Tanya Reynolds) who claim to have been robbed. John shows them some kindness - he isn't by any means an altogether rotten person. But soon it turns out that Thomas and Rebecca are not quite what they seem...

After watching the film, I researched it, and was fascinated to find that writer and director Thomas Clay was inspired to write it after reading the work of the Marxist revolutionary historian Christopher Hill. Chris Hill was Master of Balliol when I was there and although I didn't know him well, I found him rather diffident and very pleasant, as indeed, oddly enough, have been all the (very few) revolutionaries I've known. I still have a nice postcard he sent me from France after my Finals.

The film is a mash-up of various ingredients, and it's not entirely successful. But after that slow start, it does pick up speed, and although I have some reservations about several aspects of it, it's worth a look so that you can make up your own mind.  

Spies, Lies and Deception - IWM Manchester

The sad news of Len Deighton's passing coincided with my learning that there was an exhibition at the Manchester branch of the Imperial War Museum, and so I decided to take a look. The museum is located in Salford, a short walk from the Lowry and the BBC (where University Challenge is filmed, among other shows, so a place of fond memories!) but it's a very, very long time since I last went there with my children.

The main exhibition is very good and a special treat was listening to a chap called Ray giving a fascinating talk about a friend of his, Tom Boardman, who was a prisoner of the Japanese during the war, but managed to make a ukulele with which he entertained fellow prisoners, and which is now on display. There are plenty of reminders about the long-lasting nature of the devastation caused by war, which felt very pertinent in current circumstances, as it did a couple of days later when talking to two friends who come from Iran.

The Spies, Lies and Deception exhibition was very good, and even though I've done a lot of reading about spying over the years, I still learned some new things, for example about Agent Zigzag. I went to a spying museum in Washington DC a few years ago, and that was also good, but very different. Here the focus was on the British experience.

It was fascinating, for instance, to see and hear Kim Philby being interviewed on television, and lying through his teeth in a charming way. And to see the pleasant but modest bungalow owned by the Krogers and learn where they hid their spying paraphenalia was quite memorable. One thing I did not know was that Kroger's cover was as a dealer in antiquarian books. Now that has given me an idea for a story...

Forgotten Book - Doctors Also Die

Doctors Also Die is the rather melodramatic title of D.M. Devine's second novel, originally published in 1962. I don't think it ever appeared in paperback in Britain and it's a hard to find book - I was lucky to be lent a copy by a friend. Here, Devine was tackling the notorious 'second book hurdle' after the success of My Brother's Killer, and in my opinion he surmounted that hurdle pretty well.

As so often with Devine, the story is set among Scotland's professional classes. He understood the bourgeois mindset of his characters, and his story casts interesting light on the social attitudes of the time (pre-Beatles) when there was a good deal of prudishness about and any gay man was extremely vulnerable to blackmail, as well as to criminal prosecution.

The story is narrated by Alan Turner, a G.P. whose senior partner, Henderson, died recently in rather suspicious circumstances. The official verdict was accidental death, but Alan makes clear in the very first paragraph of the novel that he sensed Henderson was murdered, though he didn't want to believe it, because he knew whodunit. Immediately, we make the assumption that he is wrong - otherwise, where would the mystery be? But even at this stage of his career, Devine was adept at plotting, and you can't take anything for granted with his storylines.

Some of the key events of the story are revealed in flashback scenes and Devine handles this sometimes cumbersome device fairly well. I did wonder why he didn't 'begin at the beginning' with a description, say, of the discovery of Henderson's body. When all is finally revealed, however, it becomes clear that he has misled us - rather cleverly, I think - about a crucial element of the storyline. This is so neatly done that one can forgive him for making Alan a rather cussed individual who is sometimes a fool to himself and therefore not always the easiest with whom to empathise. Not top-notch Devine, perhaps, but a very good mystery nonetheless.

 

Scandal - 1989 film review

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'It may be false, it may be true, but nothing has been proved.' I've loved the theme song from Scandal for a long time - a great collaboration between Dusty Springfield and the Pet Shop Boys which, astonishingly, wasn't nominated for an Oscar - but I'd never seen the film, until the other day, when it was screened by Talking Pictures TV. The film is about the Profumo Affair, which was the biggest scandal in British politics until the still-unfolding story which has been filling the Press recently, and which no doubt will generate plenty of films and TV dramas in years to come.

Scandal is a terrific film, very effectively directed by Michael Caton-Jones and benefiting from a superb cast led by John Hurt (who manages to make the creepy Stephen Ward almost sympathetic) and Joanne Whalley, as Christine Keeler. Ian McKellen is Profumo and Leslie Phillips is Lord Astor, while Bridget Fonda is very good as Mandy Rice-Davies, one of the few people in the case who seems to have profited from it in the long run. The impressive supporting cast includes such excellent actors as Terence Rigby (once of Softly, Softly), Alex Norton (a future star of Taggart), Trevor Eve (Shoestring), Ronald Fraser, Iain Cuthbertson, Britt Ekland, Daniel Massey, and Keith Allen.

The script by Michael Thomas is strong, and although I'm not convinced that Ward was quite as much a victim as the film suggests, it is compelling viewing from start to finish. The story is in many ways an amazing one, but recent events have shown that this calamitous episode in British history did not spell the end of misbehaviour at the heart of the establishment.

Carl Davis composed the music for the film, but the film also makes clever use of pop songs of the era to underpin some of the central themes. Peter Bradshaw, a very good film critic, regarded Hurt's performance in Scandal as his masterpiece, and who am I to disagree?

Len Deighton R.I.P.

I was very sorry to learn of the death of Len Deighton, one of the most influential genre writers of the twentieth century, and someone whom I had the privilege (and I feel that's an appropriate word) and pleasure of getting to know personally.  

The quality of Len’s writing, and the significance of his contribution to espionage fiction (and much else besides) will be discussed extensively in the obituaries. In a future newsletter, I hope to write about his work, but in this post, I’d like to focus on the man himself.

My connection with him came about through the Detection Club. He was always enormously enthusiastic about and supportive of the Club, and Corinne Hitching tells me that over the many years she has been our assistant secretary, Len was invariably one of the first to respond to her emails with a warm message, even though the fact that he lived outside the UK (he had homes in California and Portugal, but his main base was Guernsey in the Channel Islands) meant that he hadn’t been able to join us in person for some years. 

As is well-known, Len eschewed literary and other honours. He is, as far as I'm aware, the only person who has ever declined an invitation to be honoured by the CWA with the Diamond Dagger. However, there was something about the Detection Club and its heritage, and above all the congenial and collegiate nature of our activities, that appealed greatly to him.

Len was elected to membership of the Club back in 1969, when Agatha Christie was President. He had a very entertaining story about reminding her that they’d met once before, when as a BOAC steward, he served her on a flight to the Middle East. At no time in our 96-year history (yes, the Detection Club is one year younger than Len was) has anybody else been a member of the Club for as long as Len.

I first met him at an autumn dinner of the Club at the Savoy. On checking, I find to my astonishment that it was way back in 1994, though I recall it vividly. At that point I’d only published three or four novels, and I was invited as a guest by Robert Barnard, who showed me many kindnesses from the start of my crime writing career and for the rest of his life. Knowing of my admiration for Len’s work, Bob kindly introduced me to him. I had a fine time at that dinner, and met many delightful people, but chatting with Len was undoubtedly a highlight.

Of course, in those days I never dreamed that I’d ever have any further involvement with the Club. Fast forward to 2015. When it was announced that I would succeed Simon as President, Len immediately got in touch with me. He said he wanted to offer congratulations and support, but more than that, he’d like to invite me to lunch next time he was in England so that we could get to know each other better. A very generous offer, to say the least.

Len was, famously, a gourmand, and suffice to say that our lunch wasn't any ordinary lunch. It was at Koffmann's at the Berkeley Hotel and the whole experience exceeded even my high expectations. We spent the best part of four hours chatting together, as Len – who was a great raconteur – reeled off one fascinating anecdote after another. At the end of the lunch, as you can see from the above photo, he wrote personal inscriptions in first editions of his first four books which I'd brought along, just in case he was willing to do so. It was quite incredible. I’ll never forget it. 

Len also gave a wonderful encomium to The Golden Age of Murder. I was, again, hugely grateful for his kindness. There aren't so many authors around who have had a laudatory blurb from one of the greats, and he certainly didn't have to do it. This is what he said:

'You don't have to be a fan of 'whodunits'  to enjoy this amazing story of their creators and their works. Here you will meet the Detection Club; a still existent and somewhat incongruous band of writers. Elected by secret ballot, their lives were seemingly stranger than fiction. I admire the way that Martin Edwards weaves the sometimes violent, sometimes unlawful, and always gripping, true stories of these writers with the equally wild tales they tell in their books.

Edwards is widely read and authoritative in his analysis. He probes the psychology of writers and dissects their plots. He provides true murder cases that inspired Christie books and Hitchcock films. Best of all, he provides a new way of looking at old favourites. I found Martin Edwards' 'The Golden Age of Murder'  illuminating and entertaining; what writer could hope for more?'

And what writer could hope for a better quote than that? 

Len contributed to a number of Detection Club books over the years, and when I started work on a volume of stories in tribute to Peter Lovesey, I asked him if he'd be willing to contribute a foreword. He replied at once in the affirmative and his foreword to Motives for Murder proved to be as witty (he took no prisoners where publishers were concerned!) as it was warm.

When we began work on another book to raise funds for the Club, about the art and graft of crime writing - Howdunit - I asked Len (knowing his aversion to the limelight) if he would mind if the book was dedicated to him. He said he’d be thrilled, and that – even though he’d retired from writing fiction long ago – he would be more than happy to contribute. He duly wrote a terrific essay to conclude the book, called ‘Different Books, Different Problems, Different Solutions’, and sent me some fascinating additional material, including some photos that were included in the book.     

After that we stayed in touch mainly by email and occasional notes written in his extremely legible hand. He was very keen to see the Club continuing to flourish. One message came a couple of years ago, when he was in good spirits, He said he was extremely frail, yet extremely well cared for by his wife Ysabele. He said ‘we are very happy in our friendly little island’ (that is, Guernsey) and added: ‘I wish I could see all my old friends. But being 95 has its drawbacks.’

Rest in peace, Len. You were a terrific writer and, even more importantly, a true gentleman.

Forgotten Book - Death in a Domino

Death in a Domino is the American title of a novel originally published in the UK and US in 1932 and now reprinted in the excellent series Stark House Crime Classics. In Britain, the title of the book was It Means Mischief , but there was a more curious change between the British and American editions. Originally, the screenwriter and playwright John Hastings Turner was credited as co-author. But in the American edition, as in the reprint, the sole author named is Roland Pertwee; Turner had to be content with a prefatory note in which Pertwee expressed his gratitude to Turner, 'whose ingenuity helped me over several difficult stiles'. 

This isn't the only example of collaborators in novels of the 1930s finding their role minimised at a later stage; it happened to Robert Eustace and Henry Jellett, who collaborated on novels with high profile detective novelists, Dorothy L. Sayers and Ngaio Marsh respectively. Pertwee (1885-1963) wasn't in the same league as Sayers or Marsh, and he only dabbled in the writing of crime novels for a short time, but he enjoyed a long career as an actor, playwright, and screenwriter, and other family members (Bill, Sean, and above all Jon) also achieved success as actors, while his son Michael was a writer.

The story makes use of three classic ingredients of Golden Age detective fiction. The victim is an unpleasant newspaper baron; such characters can be found in quite a few books, among them the Detection Club's Ask a Policeman. There is also a 'murder game', during the course of which an actual murder is committed. And finally, there is a significant false confession.

There are some amusing moments, especially when an elderly general witters on about his passion for fishing. The plot also twists quite nicely, if improbably. I was rather startled by one scene, in which a young woman is persuaded to sniff cocaine; there are plenty of Golden Age stories in which drugs play a part, but I can't immediately recall a scene quite like that. 

The writing style, as befits two screenwriters, is extremely economical. Sometimes the concision comes at the cost of character development, but the pace of the story is, overall, a strong point. The book was filmed (by the great Michael Powell at the start of his career) in 1934 as The Night of the Party, starring Leslie Banks - and both Pertwee and Turner were credited as the writers.

 

Czech Mate - 1984 TV movie

Czech Mate was a feature-film-length episode in the series Hammer House of Mystery and Suspense, a TV anthology series I didn't watch the series first time around, but it has quite a reasonable reputation and I thought I'd take a look at one of two of the shows. This one was written by Jeremy Burnham, an actor and screenwriter who also has a minor role in the film.

The star is Susan George, an actress whose reputation for glamorous good looks may not have done her too many favours in the long run; I think her acting skills were under-rated, and they were also limited by the roles she was given. One of the merits of Czech Mate is that the role of Vicky Duncan is a good one, and Susan George holds the story together despite some flaws in the script.

At the start of the film, Vicky is greeted outside her home by her ex-husband John (Patrick Mower, who was also a hearthrob in that era). Despite their divorce eighteen months ago, John wants to get back together again. And Vicky, who has just come out of another relationship, succumbs to temptation. He takes her to Prague (although in those Cold War days, the location filming took place in Vienna) before disappearing in mysterious circumstances. With her passport taken, Vicky is at a loss. The police are unsympathetic and she doesn't get enough help from the guy from the embassy (played, incidentally, by Richard Heffer, an extremely pleasant fellow with a strong interest in crime fiction and whom I've had the pleasure of chatting to on several occasions over the past few years).

The story develops along relatively ho-hum lines for quite a while, but I must say that the ending is very good. So good that it deserved a better build-up. It's a long time since Susan George was a box office star, but Czech Mate shows the quality of her acting and that's among the reasons why, despite its weaknesses, it's worth watching.  

The Man Between - 1953 film review

Carol Reed was a first-rate film director and The Third Man (1949) was perhaps his greatest achievement. That is a film I know well, but I wasn't familiar with The Man Between, released in 1953, until recently. This film revisits some of the issues at the heart of his earlier masterpiece, in particular the complexities of life in post-war continental Europe. The setting is Berlin, a divided city.

I first visited Berlin as a student and stayed with a nice family, the Wehmeyers, who had an apartment right next to the Berlin Wall. Occasionally, for instance while having an evening meal, you would hear shots being fired at people trying to escape to the West. It was a surreal and memorable trip, totally fascinating, and the history of Berlin has intrigued me ever since. When I visited many years later and wandered freely around the Brandenburg Gate, something that was impossible on my first visit, it was a truly moving experience.

The Man Between is set at a time before the Berlin Wall was erected, but the tensions between East and West are already apparent, with posters of Stalin everywhere on the East side, and authorities in the East determined to crack down on people trying to get away. Into this tinderbox ventures Susanne Mallison (Claire Bloom), who has come to visit her brother Martin (Geoffrey Toone) and his newish German wife Bettina (Hildegard Knef). It soon becomes clear that Bettina has something to hide and that her secret concerns a German called Ivo (James Mason).

Bloom, Knef and Mason are three particularly charismatic and gifted actors, and their performances make the most of the material. The story begins extremely well, but once Bettina's secret is revealed, and Susanne finds herself mixed up with Ivo, the pace does drag a bit. The presentation of war-ravaged Berlin is excellent, and the finale poignant, and although this isn't in the same league as The Third Man, it's a very well-made movie. 

Forgotten Book - Home to Roost

Not long ago, I acquired a copy of Andrew Garve's Home to Roost (1976) and it was working its way up the to-read pile ever so slowly until Jamie Sturgeon happened to recommend it to me. I was conscious that it was Garve's penultimate novel, written when he was coming to the end of a long career, and this made me wonder if it might be a bit lacklustre. Not a bit of it. The story is interesting and definitely 'different'.

The narrator is Walter Haines, who starts with a straightforward but rather enticing opening sentence: 'This is an account of how Max Ryland got himself murdered, and what happened afterwards.'  As Haines says rather disarmingly, the build-up seems a little slow - and this may be what prompted Collins Crime Club, not for the only time, to tell a good deal of the story (too much, I'd say) on the dustwrapper blurb. But Garve writes readably and moves things along at a decent pace, so the extended build-up wasn't a problem for me.

Haines, like his creator, is a journalist who becomes a crime novelist and enjoys success. His work is filmed, as Garve's was. And when he meets the lovely Laura, who becomes his wife, all seems set fair. The snag is that Haines isn't as likeable as one might wish. Laura understandably becomes frustrated and when the couple are befriended by a famous actor, Max Ryland, one thing leads to another, and she becomes Max's lover. And then, as we've expected from that first line, Max winds up dead. But - Walter has an alibi. So he's in the clear. Or is he?   

The plot is unusual and the ending of the story is subtle. One of the online reviews of this book is by that voracious reader and thoughtful critic Kate Jackson. Her thoughts are here, and all I will say is that there is a coded interpretation of the ending which reflects my understanding of the final pages. I liked this book a lot. The sheer variety of Garve's stories was a great strength of his.