An Inspector Calls (1954)

 "I don't know anything, not any more..."

I saw the original J.B. Priestley play in the West End, many moons ago, and it made a big impression on me. So much so that, having seen the play once, I was able to recall a surprising amount after a couple of decades, and predict what would happen next.

That is not, of course, to criticise the play, a trenchant commentary on the entitled and sometimes murderous arrogance of those who take their privilege for granted. The world, even in 2024, is full of Eva Smiths, and of Birlings who need taking down a peg or two.

The play suits adaptation to film well, with a number of flashbacks, and the largely character actor cast is solid, with Jane Wenham being particularly impressive. Yet Alastair Sim owns this film. He is menacing, magnetic, charisma itself: the quiet, otherwordly centre upon whom all things revolve. This is a career defining performance.

Guy Hamilton helms the film in a straightforward, unshowy manner, perhaps. Yet that is exactly what is needed here: directorial restraint. Simply using the words and the performances to carry the devastating story is exactly what is needed here. 

After this performance from Sim... it would surely take extreme bravery for anyone else to portray this part on film.It's a rare film which is elevated to greatness by one performance... but this is certainly one of them.