Scarlet Thread

This early fifties British film starts off really well, and features some excellent London and Cambridge locations. The chase scene, concerning the students pursuing the crooks through the streets of Cambridge, is novel and very well staged. Unfortunately, from thereon in the film tails off, and becomes bogged down in a talky and drawn out scenario. Kathleen Byrom and Sydney Tafler acquit themselves well, although it has to be said that Laurence Harvey, in an early role, gives a patchy performance, at best. The interlude between Byrom and Harvey, referred to by other reviewers, is certainly a surprise especially given the age of the film. The censor must have nipped out for a coffee at that point, but obviously returned for the end of the film which simply terminates far too abruptly (can anyone shed any light on this?) In conclusion, it's a pity the film wasn't condensed a bit more before its finale, which could have done with being more conclusive.

Kathleen Byron was one of the most fascinating actresses of the noir period, while she only came to her rights under the direction of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. She did make a number of other thrillers besides the Archers productions, and this was one of her best. She is confronted here by Laurence Harvey as a very young man in one of his earliest roles, acting a nervous young amateur gangster with a gun, which of course he uses only for blunders, but his performance as this green hoodlum totally unsure of himself except for his interest and relations with dames is just perfect. This was Lewis Gilbert's first film, and it is startlingly Hitchcockian. The pastoral idylls of Cambridge with its ancient colleges and almost equally ancient professors are made the background of a shockingly grim drama of a burglary going wrong involving the accidental murder of an old man, who proves to be the last man the murderer would have liked to have killed. Sydney Tafler is the other villain, who has forced Harvey into his service for a professional job, in no way alerted by the fact that Harvey is such an unreliable amateur. Of course, it can only go from bad to worse, but there are many great moments of sustained suspense, and the fireworks in the end for the celebration of a centenary of a college is the perfect background for the final escape by the Ghost's Gallery, where for a striking effect the ghost actually appears of a man believed dead.

What distinguishes this crime film from many of its contemporaries is not so much the plot, though the dialogue is above average, but the degree of authenticity its characters have and the location shooting in Cambridge and the West End of London.

Laurence Harvey's cheap aggressive spiv, complete with trilby and a phony accent, modelling himself on an American gangster, or at least the Hollywood version of one, had his real life counterparts, as court cases of the period show. One clever scene is set in a seedy amusement arcade as Harvey's womanising Freddie tries to pick up a low class tart (Dora Bryan) much to the disapproval of Sydney Tafler's educated, rather aloof, possibly gay character Marcon (alias Bellingham). There's also a vague resemblance at first to the relationship between Terry and Arthur in MINDER; Tafler is excellent throughout. We meet the magnetic Kathleen Byron's Josephine just before the botched smash and grab resulting in murder and soon learn of her anxiety at the prospect of being stifled amid the tranquil, cloistered "backwater" of her university surroundings with her suitor, staid academic Arthur Hill. Byron was one of the few British actresses of the day whose characters were clearly made of flesh and blood, and here the refined Josephine is sufficiently attracted to the working class, pseudo American Freddie, as to be quite ready to jump straight into bed with him, an unusual development for a film of the time. There's some tension and moments of dry humour, particularly involving Josephine's aunt Eleanor (Renee Kelly). But the film's main interest in the later stages lies in the relationship between the three leading characters, as it works out against the university background.

Sadly, the recent DVD release confirms that the film has only survived in a mutilated form, with minutes missing toward the end, leaving the eventual fate of Freddie, Marcon and accomplice Harry Fowler unclear.

A drab, talky little drama enhanced by vivid photography by veteran cameraman Geoffrey Faithfull, much of it filmed on location in London and then Cambridge.

A once-in-a-lifetime cast headed by top-billed Kathleen Byron then on the slide and Lawrence Harvey working his way up (along with director Lewis Gilbert) manages in one scene to include both Arthur Hill and Eliot Makeham.

Laurence Harvey tries to lift Sidney Tafler's wallet. Tafler calls him out on it, but does not call the nearby police. Instead, he takes him home, gives him dinner, and tells him that when he has a job for him, he'll send for him. The job is a smash-and-grab on a jeweler's window in Cambridge. Harvey shoots a man who tries to interfere, a crowd gets between them and their getaway car, which drives off. The men outrace the crowd and take refuge in the University, where they impose, due to Tafler's having gone to Trinity, on Kathleen Byron, whose father has gone to a meeting in London.

Lewis Gilbert does a nice job directing his first feature. After a look at the town and the university grounds, it turns into a nice study in Tafler's and Harvey's minds. Harvey is a punk, exhibiting the craziness he would use to advantage in future movies. There's also a nice bit of suspense in the situation, with the police looking for them with poor descriptions, and the fate of the shot man. There is a touch too much in the way of coincidence in the second half of the movie, but it's tightly plotted and it holds together well while watching it.