Keeper of the Flame

Seen at the Roxy Cinema, Nowra NSW as part of their Tuesday morning vintage series

Cecil says: I went alone to this one.

A rare chance to see a movie classic from 1942 starring Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracey thank to the Roxy Cinema in Nowra's weekly 'seniors' classic double-bill on a Tuesday morning.

They don't make films like this anymore! Not just because it's in black and white, but also because the film gains its strength from plot, script, lighting and great acting. No sound effects, no noise, no guns until very late on in this one, but drama and tension builds as the plot develops and we gain more and more insight into the main characters.

The plot: national political hero dies in car accident (almost Chappaquiddick, though that Kennedy escaped unharmed); journalists swarm over the area to get the 'story' but feature writer Tracey wants the real story of political hero's life. 

Trouble is, when he gets to meet hero's wife (Hepburn) and talks to some of the peripheral characters round the house, he starts to build a completely different picture of the guy who died.

There's a moment when the dialogue suddenly switches to talk of Hitler and Fascism, and it slightly jars at that point, making me wonder if the WW2 censors got involved in the screenplay at that point.

And there's something in the RP accents and stentorious tones that reminded me in some horrific nightmare way of Margaret Thatcher at her worst ('There is no Alternative'; 'No, no, no'; 'The lady's not for turning'). Almost made me wonder if he she studied the sinister tones of the more threatening actresses of her childhood to develop her voice when she became Prime Minister.

There are some great reminders of daily life in the 1940s: those were the days when men all wore hats and would stand in the pouring rain with the hat and their raincoat keeping them dry underneath (ladies had brollies, but only a few men); when journalists would bash out their copy on portable typewriters, tearing the page out when that opening line didn't read right; when television didn't yet exist so you'd sit by the fire and read a book or knit; and when telephones came in two bits, and you'd ring the operator to get a call through to New York - or wherever, and there were party lines (ah who remembers them, when you'd be frustrated by those talkative neighbours who'd never free up the line). Ah, when did operators and party lines take their final bow??

I loved this film and so wish there were more opportunities to see films of that era. Nice that there were about 25 of us in there, and a big queue to get in for the second movie (which I didn't have time to stay and watch). 

The Roxy Cinema in Nowra is doing great things here. It's a model other cinemas could usefully follow. 

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