The Next of Kin

I awarded this film 7/10 as it was well produced with the help of the armed services and although actors played the principal parts it was entirely credible.It showed that despite being a propaganda film, the Germans were very efficient and capable in gathering war time data from the British using artifice, threats, intelligence and perverted bravery. There was of course plenty of posters reminding citizens and the armed forces the danger of a casual word about what one was doing, going, and releasing other information liable to be of use to the enemy.Mervyn Johns is cast again as the 5th columnist spy like he played in "Counterblast" and appears in the end scene with Charters & Caldicot that well known acting duo.Jack Hawkins makes an early appearance wearing a moustache using his unique pre-cancerous voice.Nova Pilbeam plays a Dutch émigré whose parents are held in "protective custody" by the Gestapo in Holland who is forced to provide intelligence of troop movements to her book seller German employer.

If it had not been on YouTube.com I would never have seen this excellent film as it never appears on UK television despite the existence of various heritage channels.In fact "London Live" for example keeps repeating Ealing films they have already transmitted when there are plenty of other vintage films like the present one they could show for us vintage film aficionados.

Considering I was hitherto unaware of this excellent film prior to it's being shown on "Talking Pictures" tv, what a revelation it was. With a stellar cast and a "careless talk costs lives" propaganda backcloth, this film ticks along nicely and, whilst providing a very serious message also manages to give the viewer a genuine thriller. Some fine performances here and good to see the likes of Jack Hawkins, Nova Pilbeam, Mervyn Johns, Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne, to mention but a few, getting involved. Overall, a really terrific effort and yet another old British war story that leaves so many more recent movies standing.

You're transported back to 1942. You, yourself are sitting in a cinema praying to God that you have personally not caused the deaths of hundreds of people. This isn't just a movie, it's a vital life or death message you need to heed.

These days we're familiar with spy stories. We've seen so many of those films that we know the tricks of the trade. To us now its hammer over the head approach in getting the message across seems oddly unsubtle but this was aimed at a 1942 population. The audience back then didn't have our experience, they didn't know what we now know. Without wanting to sound patronising, they did need educating, they needed to be told. The pitfalls of having loose lips had to be spelled out in black and white.

This isn't like a normal picture but neither is it a dry preachy lecture on how to behave. The filmmakers knew what they were doing: they knew how to engage with their audience, they knew they had to make this both informative, exciting and above all else, entertaining. It's very different to most wartime morale boosting movies, in fact as Churchill noted, it's quite depressing. That's what is so powerful about it - if you aren't careful, you, yes you might personally plunge the world into a living nightmare.

Besides being a genuinely entertaining piece of cinema, it's a genuinely important piece of history, an actual part of the war effort which we can now experience for ourselves.

As ruthless as it is engrossing, this film deliberately lets us know early on who the spies are so we know precisely when the moments of peril subsequently arise.

There is as usual the dry humour one associates with even the most single-minded British wartime propaganda (some of the peripheral detail is even quite racy, and the wartime censor permitted a reference to cocaine addiction)!

Among a large cast of familiar faces the use of Mary Clare is particularly striking, while Phyllis Stanley is a fox as the film's Mata Hari. But the final scene with two old favourites manages to surpass all that has gone before.

Essential viewing: I would love to know what Goebbels made of it!

Why does the Brigadier's wine merchant know where he is being posted next? The mess sergeant let it drop. Efforts to tighten up security to make sure leaks that might reveal troop movement aren't much use when the British soldier believes we're all in it together. The only suspicion is raised when a trooper claims he was assigned to Headquarters, and another soldier doesn't recognize him. He reports him to the C.O., and it turns out he's right.... and the reporting trooper has his leave cut short to escort the spy to prison. Even that pretty dancer you've been dating turns out to be telling German spies what you've said innocuously.

It's all being managed by people who run bookstores or are dentists, with accents that proclaim they are as English as John Bull. And their deadliest agent, who kills Nova Pilbeam -- Boo! Hiss! -- is worn-down, workaday Mervyn Johns.

The War Office commissioned this movie from Michael Balcon. He took the small amount of money, doubled it, made this rip-roaring yet somber spy drama. Once he recovered the money he had put into it, the profits went to the War Office, and there were plenty of profits. It was enormously popular, and rightly so, even if Churchill considered having it censored because it might destroy morale. If we can't trust each other, whom can we trust?

It all ends with an exciting race. The army is planning a massive raid. Johns has the aerial surveys. Can he get it to the German High Command in time for them to figure out where it will be and stop it? Or at least make it so difficult that death notices must be sent to the next of kin?

So keep your lip buttoned up. Even if you're Wayne Naunton taking to Basil Radford. Mervyn Johns might be listening.