W Is For Wyngarde

Peter Wyngarde plays Oberon, King of the Fairies*, in a 1964 ITV production of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.  Never quite the crass, commercial machine the BBC made them out to be, ITV had a fine tradition of drama and the arts, although putting Benny Hill’s name above the title (he was playing Bottom, using his Fred Scuttle voice) and the rest of the cast underneath was, in the words of one contemporary commentator, ‘putting the arse before the court’. 

* Pack it in.

Derren Nesbitt, Actor

 

Derren Nesbitt is one of the great British characters, capable of creating hugely interesting characters wherever he goes, especially when it comes to bad guys. A powerful presence and scene stealer, he pinches everything that isn't nailed down in a 1964 episode of 'Gideons Way' called 'The Tin God', playing a super-confident, super-smooth psycho bastard with great hair called John 'Benny' Benson. Benson breaks out of prison in order to kill his his wife, who turned him in because she realised he was a monster - and, true to form, the bastard plans to ruthlessly uses his adoring son as bait to bring her to him. 

Dez is great - at first he's charming and funny and likeable - although clearly something of a rogue. As soon as you warm to him, however, he commits an unnecessary, furtive murder and you realise that you've fundamentally misjudged him: he's a psycho. 

Just for company, he takes a seemingly pre-pubescent John Hurt along for the ride. Then makes him drive. Then shoots him when things don't work out. Hurt looks ridiculously young (he's actually 24, which still seems ridiculously young to me given my advanced age) and hasn't yet developed his trademark voice, equal parts whine and gravel. 

The son is played by a 14 year old Michael Cashman, later to become Colin in 'Eastenders' and, since 1999, a Member of the European Parliament, although I always think of him as Terhew in 'Unman, Wittering and Zigo' for some reason.

All these older people seen when much younger gives me an idea for a new feature, but I think the title will need some work. 

Be Steadfast

I have been told that Doncaster Museum and Art Gallery was one of only a handful of new custom built museums in the UK of the ninteteen sixties, and I can confirm that it is a clean, stylish building in the modernist style created using such high quality materials that, almost fifty years on, it's still in very good condition (cosmetically, at least - people who work there tell me there are lots of unseen issues). It was designed by a mysterious cabal of Council architects, and it opened in 1964.

Because nothings says museum like M-U-S-E-U-M.

The Town Motto.

The main building is flanked by two great big bits of modern art. On the left is a figurative sculpture by Yorkshire born teacher, writer and Apartheid era South African spy Fabio Barraclough. The rectangle represents a picture frame, and the sculpture was commissioned after a competition to create a striking piece of art comensurate with the new building.



They're holding a picture frame.

Still holding it...

On the right hand side of the building is 'Epicentre', an interesting abstract that reminds me of  fossilised shark jaws but also evokes the white rose motif of Yorkshire. It was the work by Franta Belsky, a Czech sculptor who had an extraordinary life and career, and (amongst lots of other things) also sculpted the playful 'Mother and Baby' statue that adorns Stevenage town centre. 

The external detailing of the museum is quite amazing, and the amount of work (and money) that must have gone into the tiles alone is staggering. 

The interior of the museum is less interesting, being, of course, a series of large interconnected spaces, although it is rather smart and beautifully rendered – the two staircases look almost brand new. The museum itself collects a lot of interesting and varied objects and presents them well in a relatively confined area.

Donny Bears.

Olden Days Fishing.

Primitive people arguing, still a feature of most UK towns.

Hungover Roman.

Artist's Impression.

What an Otter.

Old Stone Face.

There are the usual dioramas, stuffed animals, dressed up dummies and a few interactive button pressing things. As the museum has no specific theme other than Doncaster, and Doncaster has no specific identity (in terms of history, I mean – it has been used by the Romans and the Normans and played a big part in the Industrial Revolution, but is not defined by this) it can seem a bit haphazard, but it’s never boring. I’m particularly fascinated by a carved stone face which, to me, seems to resonate with ancient evil and always reminds me a bit of Peter Vaughan.

The downstairs also incorporates the Kings Own Yorkshire Light Infantry Museum, a fascinating set of displays and mannequins that culminates in a room literally wallpapered with medals. It’s been recently refurbished and is excellent.

Gas Mask.

Soldier vs Oik.

Upstairs is the gallery part, with a fair sized permanent collection of art and pottery, and a large open space for visiting exhibitions. The effectiveness of this area is dependent on what it displays, of course, but I can report that it looked great when the Shell Travel Posters were in town (Nash, Sutherland, Dobson, McKnight Kauffer!)  and equally good with about thirty Eduardo Palozzi collages hanging on its walls. The permanent collection is not to my taste particularly, but is eclectic enough to be worth looking at and there’s a Cuneo painting called ‘Giants Refreshed’ that railways enthusiasts go all unnecessary over (Doncaster is a big railway town).  

What’s the best thing about it? It’s on my way to work, so I get to see it more or less every day.  For me, a good museum should be like a good church, a visit to it should provide respite - a bit of peace and quiet and an opportunity to just look at interesting things and think about stuff - so I pop in whenever I have a headache and just wander around until the pain goes away.   

Grip Your Witch Deflector Tightly

'Witchcraft'  starts off with a bulldozer knocking down some ancient gravestones whilst Lon Chaney Junior bellows at the driver to stop, and ends with a resurrected 300 year old witch and some of her baby eating coven being incinerated. In between these two tasty slices, however, the sandwich filling is stodgy and generally bland, only sporadically seasoned by supernatural murder, miracle cures and a lot of bickering.

It isn't a bad film, especially considering how obviously cheap it is, but its problem is that after a quick burst of energy in the first fifteen minutes, nothing much happens very slowly, so the viewer makes their own amusement and, before you know it, everything seems funny, even the road signs.  

My favourite bit is when a wheelchair bound woman prays to Jesus for the ability to walk and, incredibly, is granted it. No sooner is she up on her feet than she has an unexpected visitor - no, not the DSS - but that bloody witch, who immediately pushes her down the stairs. I know Jesus is busy, but, you know, he could have hung around just a little bit longer.

Watch in the company of friends, with beer and cheese and onion Ringos. 

Witchcraft

The Sin In Its Shadows

Mondo films are, in essence, exploitation documentaries, i.e. they focus on the seamier, sleazier, bloody side of life and, although they are often as staged as carefully as traditional narrative films, they present it all in the name of truth, disdainfully holding a mirror up to this awful world whilst simultaneously zooming in on a load of breasts.

‘London In The Raw’ shows us various sides of our fantastic / terrible capital that the tourists don’t normally see (unless they’re sex tourists or, perhaps, sexy tourists). Much of it is fairly innocuous, however, although occasionally not for the squeamish (a hair transplant is shown in all its gory glory, for instance), but more or less everything comes with a side order of dimpled and goose-bumped female flesh: a tawdry cavalcade of prostitutes, clip joint girls and strippers, many of whom have enormous hair. Or do they? Given how obviously faked many of the sequences are, they could just be wearing wigs. The overall effect reminds me of a tourist information film directed by Benny Hill.

Occasionally monotonous, but generally very watchable, ‘London In The Raw’ was the second in a trilogy of London Mondo films made by sleaze meister (but generally nice guy) Arnold Louis Miller. The first ‘West End Jungle’ focused on prostitution; the third, ‘Primitive London’ will be under discussion tomorrow.           

London In The Raw

Children Painting

From 'Faces of Harlow', the children of a local school create a painting on camera. It's rather good, even though, in the best Tony Hart tradition, it looks shit all the way up to the reveal.

The kid's verdict on their own work? 'Too much green on one side'.