The Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey

This is a compelling, addictive, novel, one which I've found it very difficuklt to put aside every now and again for, you know, eating, seeping, that sort of thing. But it's odd. It's one of six detective novels by Josephine Tey featuring a Detective Inspector Alan Grant, the last of them before Tey sadly died. However, the other fice in the series are not widely read today. This particular novel is very unusual for an award winning whodunit.

Simply put, our inspector is laid up in hospital with a broken leg, he's bored out of his skull, and he ends up looking into the deaths of the Princes in the Tower and pondering whether the murderer was Richard III, as popularly supposed, or someone else.

It sounds simple. But what makes this novel compelling is the how. This is an investigation where we're really shown the working. All of the primary evidence, all the facts, are lain before us an analysed, and a modern (well, 1951) police approach is taken. The reasoning, and the conclusions, feel pretty damn rigorous, although other views of the case are available. 

I suppose, like the Jack the Ripper TV series from the '70s I recently blogged where the conceit was two fictional detectives investigating the murders in a documentary in the form of a drama, this may be seen as factual history dressed up as fiction. Yet the prose, the plotting, the characterisation, all are superb. 

This novel is a veritable Class A substance.

Memoirs of Hadrian by Marguerite Yourcenar

I read this novel once before, long ago, and recall being as impressed with it as much back then as I am now. To state the obvious, it is in the form of a long valedictory letter  from a dying Hadrian to a young Marcus Aurelius, his successor’s successor. As an extended letter, though, it is hardly an epistolary novel and, while a fictionalised autobiography that nevertheless recounts a version of real events, it is constructed more as a philosophical essay than as the recounting of a story. It has no dialogue between characters, is very much from a single viewpoint, and can only very vaguely be said to have a plot.

Yet the novel, if that is what it is, bursts with classical learning as it describes the last years of the classical era, an era which, like all eras, feels itself to be in decline and culturally ossified while also fearing the loss of its immense heritage. Marguerite Yourcenar has achieved wonders in capturing the unique and plausible voice of Hadrian, a patrician of a certain time and place more alien to us than we think, with its dogma-free yet empty religious practices and its casual acceptance of suicide. She is to be commended in particular for capturing, in 1951, the casual normality of sexual attraction between men and adolescent boys that was so common in the classical era, at least amongst the aristocracy, by men who had no concept either of sexual orientation or of sin. This, at least, feels civilised, although the respective ages of a Hadrian and an Antinous are decidedly icky.

As much as the philosophy of civilisation and its transience, though, this is a treatise on how to endure old age with grace from an avowed non-stoic, and a thing of wonder in that respect. Without dialogue, without plot twists, this is an extraordinarily different yet deeply satisfying novel.

Superman and the Mole Men (1951)

 “Why, you give the impression you’re leading a… a double life!”

 This is a fascinating little document. It may be the first ever full length superhero movie, but it feels in many ways like a typical 150s cheap sci-fi B movie. The Mole Men of the title look hilariously rubbish, with their obvious wigs and pantomime costume. And yet this silly little short film is full of heart and, in its own way, very faithful to the character of Superman. 

It's instructive, in particular, so compare this to the Christopher Reeves films of the '70s and '80s. There, Clark Kent's hat and oold-fashioned suit make him look like an old-fashioned, out of touch country bumpkin, a figure of mockery. He dresses the same way here, but it's 1951; he looks completely anonymous. And Reeves doesn't play Kent as a klutz or as any other kind of comic figure. He's an experienced, professional and very inquisitive reporter.

We also have a Superman here who is much closer to the liberal wish fulfilment figure of the early comics. The eponymous Mole Men aren't trying to conquer the surface: insteasd, they've been disturbed by humans drilling, have come up fpor a look, and are quickly persecuted by murderous lynch mobs. The enemy isn't them; it's human intolerance. This is an interesting message for the time of McCarthyism, when reds were under the bed. It's an allegory for all sorts of persecutions of all sorts of minorities, and Superman at one point accuses the mob of being "like Nazi stormttroopers". Even a silly little cheap B movie can have a subtext.

It's interesting to see how relatively underpowered Superman is here, but he's not fighting mighty foes but social evils, a fascinating dynamic. No wonder this little movie begat a long running television series. It's cheap, it's silly, yet it's also strangely heartwarming.

The Stars, Like Dust by Isaac Asimov

This is, on the surface, a science fiction novel. Spaceships and alien planets abound. There are even little nods towards the fact that this is the same continuity as the Foundation novels,  albeit millennia before those events- things like interstellar travel working the same way, or that psychic musical instrument from Foundation and Empire.

And yet the trappings of science fiction are just that- trappings. This is essentially a spy novel full of clever twists and turns but no mind-boggling science fiction idea. While the plot twists are clever and entertaining, and I enjoyed the novel, Asimov’s limitations here in terms of prose and characterisations loom larger here in the absence of big ideas. This is a fairly good novel but, I fear, not touched with greatness.

Foundation by Isaac Asimov

The Michael Moorcock marathon is briefly interrupted by an unexpected change in my circumstances (nothing to worry about), so I’ve managed to squeeze in this short and extremely readable old favourite.

This isn’t so much a novel as a rather obviously serialised sequence of linked short stories. The prose is basic and functional. There are few women in it. This far future, to the reader of today, quite obviously has the mores of the mid twentieth century, with everybody smoking and no women in professional positions. Characterisation is no less functional than the prose.

Yet this is quite possibly the greatest science fiction novel of all time, and a real joy to read.

This is a novel of big ideas. Tens of millennia in the future, humanity has spread throughout the Galaxy, and comprises a Galactic Empire. Yet this empire, in terms Gibbon May recognise, is falling, slowly but inevitably. But one Hari Seldon, mathematician and “psycho historian” plans a Foundation on an obscure planet which will slowly grow in power, shortening the Dark Ages to come. And he does this via a mathematical science of predicting future historical trends, on the basis that, given sufficiently large populations of people, individual foibles cancel out.

It’s a superb central idea, and seeing how Terminus progresses over its first few centuries of Seldon Crises is utterly gripping. Who cares about prose and characterisation when the ideas are this good. 

The Thing from Another World (1951)

 "We aready found one boner..."

I've never seen this film before, unless you count the fact that characters watch it in Halloween. I'm impressed; it's well-made, well acted and scripted, and with realistic characters, all of which make this a serious film and not the B movie I was expecting. It's genuinely good. Except... it's actually quite dull in places.

The film has a lot to go for it. The characters feel real, including the only woman, Nikki, who comes across as intelligent and real. There's even a flirting scene between her and the Captain, featuring bondage(!) and some flirtatious dialogue that actually comes across as convincing. There's a slightly obsessive doctor who becomes more and more obsessed with studying the creature and preserving it whatever the cost- and interesting variation on the maerick scientist trope.

The concept is interesting and well-developed, too- an alien plant-based life form, completely different from us. There's also a lot of tension, especially in the earlier half of the film. The Arctic setting is nicely claustrophobic.

And yet... the plot is basically a padded out base under siege. The creature is found, gets loose, nd prowls around the base killing people until it's cught. Barring a few characer-based sub-threads, that's pretty much it. That's the plot. Pure base under siege and decidedly formulaic. The end result is a film which feels high quality but never quite succeeds in scaring us or getting us to invest in the stakes. That's a pity, and a surprise.

The Man in the White Suit (1951)

“Tea break! We had to fight for it!"

This is, obviously, an extraordinary film on all sorts of levels; I'm hardly going to do other than praise this, one of the finest Ealing comedies. But its greatness lies not in its humour- after all, this is wry, ironic humour, not exactly a laugh a minute. No; this is a film which nicely skewers much of what's been wrong with this country since well before the War.

The concept is a brilliant one- Sdney, played with the usual brilliance by Alec Guinness, invents an indestructible and dirt repelling fibre which will free mankind from drudgery (according to Daphne, played with charm and splendidly cut glass vowels by Joan Greenwood), as well as destroy much of the industry and ruin both workers and management. What's particularly clever, of course, is that both viewpoints are correct: just not necessarily in that order. This is progress and, as ever, the omelette will come. It's just that the breaking of eggs will not be pleasant for many. It was this way with the Industrial Revolution, and with various smaller waves of progress ever since. These are big themes for an Ealing comedy, but handled with wit and verve in a brilliantly structured film.

Michael Gough has a nice little role, too, and Ernest Thesiger steals the show with his doddery campness as the wise Sir John. There are lots of nice little details, not least the wonderful tubes and bubbling of a very proper chemisty experiment. And, although I wouldn't know, the film seems to capture very well the reality of being an industrial chemist. Yet it also shows us a vanished world- one of strong trade unions and harmonious industrial relations, and of thriving Lancashire textile mills.

Yet it also scolds us as a nation, reminding us that our businesses are far too short termist, too focused on this year's dividends instead of the long term, and that this blinds us to shocks from foreign competition- and prevents us from reacting as we should to things like climate change. I think that, as much as musings over the immediate human price of progress, is the message of this film.

The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)

"Holy mackerel!”

This is the second time I've seen this film; twenty years ago it blew me away and I'd still say it's superb and a uniquely thoughtful '50s flying saucer movie with a lot to say. But perhaps this time my eyebrow as a little more raised. I still love the film, but I can see its flaws.

It's still a very serious moral fable, with flaws that I'll get to later, which comes across as thoughtful and is superbly directed, with oe of the most effective flying saucers in all of cinema. But the characterisation... well, Klaatu is a bit of an arrogant dick (I'll get to that later too) but otherwise we have a bunch of characters who are essentially just ciphers, along with the most "gee whiz" kid in the history of cinema. And, well, let's just look at the plot, shall we?

Klaatu is from 250-odd miles away, so within the Solar System, if a little further than the suggested Mars or Venus, both plausibly inhabited by what was known in 1951. That being the case, you can sort of see how the fact that Earth has nukes and is starting to explore space travel might be seen as a threat. But expecting humanity to entirely expunge all aggression or face genocide? I mean, come on. I'm as big a wishy-washy liberal as they come but aggression will never be removed from human nature, nor is it necessarily always a negative or violent thing. And in threatening to destroy us Klaatu is not exactly occupying the moral high ground. That would be collective punishment, as blatant a war crime as there could possibly be.

Oh yes, and then he is killed by violent humans and resurrected by Gort in an obvious Christ parallel, something that has to be done thoughtfully to avoid being pretentious and, while I'm certainly not religious, I have to observe that nowhere in the Gospels, or so I believe, does Christ threaten to destroy the human race if they refuse to follow his teachings.

That aside, though, I genuinely enjoyed the film, honest! it's extremely well made, watchable, and while its message doesn't quite work it is at least about something. It also gave us the names for no fewer than three denizens of Jabba the Hutt's sail barge...

Scrooge (1951)

"Humbug!"

Mrs Llamastrangler suggested that, as Gremlins counts as a Christmas film only on a technicality, I ought to do one (interpret that how you will) before the Chrimbo Limbo concludes. I think she had Jack Frost in mind, but heigh-ho...

Anyway, this is bloody good. Alastair Sim proves that actors associated with comedy can be truly arresting at straight drama- although his comic side is of course very much on display at the end..The entire cast is magnificent, though.

While bits are expanded from Dickens’ original novella, chiefly concerning how Scrooge got his wealth, this is a faithful adaptation, on the whole. The film deserves top marks, in particular, for taking care to include Dickens’ social commentary; the unreformed Scrooge refuses to forgive a debt, potentially forcing his unfortunate debtor to spend Christmas in a debtor’s prison, and announces that prisons and the Poor Law, cruel though they are, are a suitable response to poverty. Also it’s clear, in what we see of Scrooge’s past, that his hardness is a response to a perceived hardening of the world from the ore-factory age, when money wasn’t everything, to now (1843-ish?) where money is progress and traditional considerations for the less fortunate have fallen by the wayside. It’s very much about the problems of industrialisation, but it has much to say to That her’s children in this new age of austerity. And it’s heartening to see Christmas being set against all this, rather than as another commercial pressure.

It’s all full of Dickensisms, of course, from those inimitable character names to the poor working class family that inexplicably speaks RP, but that’s all part of the fun. This is the finest adaptation of A Christmas Carol that I’ve seen, very much including those with Muppets in...!

When Worlds Collide (1951)

"If our calculations prove correct, this will be the most frightening discovery of all time!"

Oh dear. I'm no scientist; I did English at uni. But my BAD SCIENCE sense is tingling. Yes, I know this is a cheesy '50s sci-fi B movie, but, well, here's the premise: a star (Bellus) and its planet (Zyra; both of these are very '50s sci-fi names) are spotted on a trajectory to Earth, headed straight for us. The planet will hit first, causing all sorts of cinematic and rather impressive-looking natural disasters, followed ten days later by its parent star, which will end all life on Earth. That's a bit of a bummer, really.

But fear not; there's hope, for a select few. An Ark is to be constructed which is to land on the offending planet, somehow still in one piece after its collision with Earth. We end with (some of) our All American (and, er, all white) heroes safely landed on this planet, a paradise of grass, strange vegetation and matte paintings. Yep. You heard right. Zyra  magically turns out to have a breathable oxygen atmosphere in spite of the collision and in spite of the influence of our Sun. Hmm.

Amongst all this the film gives us a bit of human drama, a love triangle, and a rather superficial attempt at exploring how humanity would react to impending Armageddon and only an elite few (mainly scientists, naturally) being saves, but there's never any real depth. The effect of this is that the film is too superficial to be serious and too preachy to be fun. I prefer my B movies to be much less po-faced.