more than fine
 

PostED ON 13.10.2024

The Small Back Room, a lesser-known masterpiece by the Powell-Pressburger duo, is steeped in an incredible humanity, even if it’s well-concealed behind the ‘stiff upper lip’ of English restraint.

Lucky are those who are about to discover, perhaps without ever having heard of it, one of the finest movies in the world. At the end of the 1940s, the Powell-Pressburger team had just completed two flamboyantly coloured masterpieces, Black Narcissus and The Red Shoes. Their next project, the gloomy-hued flick, The Small Back Room, was a disappointment to British audiences, who had had their fill of ‘war films’ (some of them directed by the pair) and were eager to move on... yet this was not your average war film.

What appealed to Michael Powell about Nigel Balchin's novel was the long sequence of bomb-disposal on a beach, a riveting, almost speechless act of heroism to be dealt with by a meticulous filmmaker. But the scene arrives toward the end of this unusual chronicle of the life of a small group of wartime scientists... A bomb disposal expert, ultra-competent yet insufferable, has lost a foot. His metal prosthesis is a painful torture, while he wallows with self-pity in alcohol, self-sabotaging his life and the curious (possibly platonic?) affair he’s having with the secretary of the department.

The Small Back Room by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger (1949) © DR

Contemplating this atypical antihero, you wonder for a while where the film is going and what the plot consists of. A grotesque and hilarious meeting takes place, featuring military luminaries, a pointless visit from a pompous minister - in short, the violently satirical tone is on par with the protagonist’s bitterness. That's the whole point: his commitment to discovering the secret weapon of the Nazis, even if it means dying, is gradually breaking down his shell of “it’s all pointless”. We’d be hard-pressed to imagine this mercurial man (superbly interpreted by David Farrar) emerging from the shadows as a hero. Yet, what Powell shows, with outsized generosity and indulgence, is that all these ordinary characters, who do their jobs not without qualms, and despite their hesitations, are heroes.

The two female characters are outstanding: Kathleen Byron, full of elegance and vigour, imposes her stateliness, solid as a rock, and her frankness, a swell girl you can rely on. During the military operation on Chesil beach, a little soldier appears, soberly indicated in the credits as an ATS Corporal. Under her helmet, Renée Asherson has the face of an angel, and perhaps she really is one, , showing the hero that if he can save the British people, then he should be able to save himself. A model of restraint and empathy, an ode to the ‘common decency’ so beloved by Orwell, The Small Back Room is one of those rare films whose characters you just want to embrace.

A.F.

Screenings

The Small Back Room by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger (1949, 1h48)
Lumière Terreaux Sun 13 2pm | Institut Lumière (Villa) Mon 14 7pm | Institut Lumière (Villa) Mon 14 7:15pm | Institut Lumière (Hangar) Thu 17 9am