by Shane Briant
The HAMMER FILM years
THE LAST CONTRACT PLAYER AT ELSTREE STUDIOS.
What I didn't know when the curtain fell on 'Children of the Wolf' was that Michael Carreras, head honcho of Hammer Films, had seen the production and had me in mind as a possible anti-hero for a new film he was about to produce titled 'Straight on Till Morning.'
It was to be directed by Peter Collinson of 'The Italian Job' fame. Rita Tushingham had been approached to play the female lead. I suppose one of the reasons Michael thought of me was because in 'Children of the Wolf,' Robin was a trifle brain-damaged (lack of oxygen when he was born – anoxia.) The character he had in mind for me was a very psychologically disturbed young man with a Peter Pan complex. I hoped this would be the start of a string of 'crazy-guy' roles, and I was not disappointed.
Adza called me one day and told me that Hammer had made an offer. The idea was to put me under contract to the film company for two years. I would, during those years, make four films, all in leading roles. Sounded great to me.
"But what films do they have in mind, Adza?" I asked.
"A re-make of 'Lorna Doone,' with you as the handsome John Ridd. Then 'The Man who Imagined Too Much,' the life story of Bram Stoker. You know, he wrote Dracula. Those and two other films—he doesn't exactly know which they will be."
The fee for these two years was a spectacular two thousand pounds; a fortune in those days.
"Count me in," I replied, excitedly. "But can I have a parking spot at Elstree Studios, Adza," I asked.
"I wouldn't have it any other way, dear heart," she replied. And so my career at Hammer films began.
I was the last contract player at Elstree Studios.
'DEMONS OF THE MIND.'
My first film was 'Demons of the Mind.' And guess what? I was to play the brain-damaged son of Robert Hardy – the Baron Zorn!
I recall wondering if I would ever play sane people again, and thinking it wouldn't matter if I never did, providing the crazies were well written roles. And so it came to pass I was invited to Elstree to meet the cast – lunch in the executive dining room with director Peter Sykes and Michael Carerras.
I was incredibly excited at the prospect of meeting the girl who was to play my sister – Marianne Faithfull.
Mick Jagger's girlfriend and me, twins? Whoooaaahhhh! I couldn't wait to wrap my arms around her… in a brotherly way, of course. Not. She looked so incredibly sexy. And that wasn't all the good news. The good guy was to be played by Manfred Mann aka Paul Jones. But you can forgive me for thinking I could now really impress my TCD friends. It was to be one of the most prestigious casts for any Hammer film. Never had so many big stars assembled for a gothic horror piece. Yvonne Mitchell, Michael Hordern as an insane priest, Patrick Magee as an insane medic by the name of Falkenberg, Robert Hardy, insane father, Paul Jones, not insane, Kenneth J. Warren as the burly enforcer, and the lovely Virginia Wetherell as the innocent victim I strangle early on in the piece.
However, the casting process didn't go at all smoothly. Marianne Faithfull arrived in the dining room looking and behaving in a very 'tired and emotional' fashion and failed to either eat or utter one word during the entire lunch. Possibly she'd had an argument with Mick – I was never to find out, as she didn't speak to me at all that day. I think it was because of her behaviour that Michael Carreras rethought the casting. I was later told that it was a question of insurance; the entire major cast had to undergo a medical and it was feared that Marianne at the time was unwell. I was very sad indeed when I heard I was not to play her brother and clasp her to me in scene after scene. However, it wasn't all bad, as her replacement was the incredibly delicious Gillian Hills. Not that I was having lustful thoughts – as I was living in Pimlico with Jane. But if I had to hug anyone, and kiss them passionately it was bloody good to kiss and cuddle a girl like Gillian – one who seemed to me a shoe-in to play Lolita one day! It was like holding molten gold!
I studied my contract avidly, wondering what had become of 'Lorna Doone' and 'Bram Stoke.' I quizzed Adza and she told me not to worry – it was simply that they could not legally commit to the exact projects two years from then.
This was to prove a mistake. On the plus side I noticed in the small print that I was to have my own parking spot at the studios with my name on the wall in front. Very appealing to a young actor. What else do actors dream of? Personal trailers, parking spots with a name on them, personal stand-ins, drivers, endless cups of coffee, lunch in the executive dining room at Elstree and Pinewood!
I was living in the fast lane at last – my cup was running over!
What I remember most vividly working on 'Demons of the Mind' were these words from my director Peter Sykes. I paraphrase, of course, but this is what I recall.
"Just push the girls down on the ground, over there between the roses. You can see the marks. Then leap on them, pinning them down with your knees. Then rip their blouses down on the right hand side so we
get a clear view of their right breast ̵ nipple and all. Okay? We've got five gorgeous girls to get through today so… let's get on with it, eh?"
Peter Sykes, my director, smiled. "Enjoy the day, Shane."
You're probably wondering 'what on earth…?' Well, this was just ten lovely hours work on the set of Hammer Films' 'Demons of the Mind,' the entire day allocated to 'jumping' young Gothic maidens and ripping their clothes off.
A good way to spend the day? Well, yes. But only in a way. Because along with grasping and holding the sexiest young girls in the world, at the same time as tearing their clothes off, comes the task of doing this in a professional manner. As an actor – a very different thing. You see, there are so many things you have to get
right. And by that I mean, do it perfectly for the camera ̵ every time.
Firstly, on the cue 'Action!' you have to wait for the gorgeous village lass – 'Magda,' or 'Heidi' – to run ahead of you until she
over her shoulder, see you, and look suitably terrified. One microsecond late, and the luscious prey will have run too far and you'll hear the director's annoyed voice. "CUT."
Then, you have to make certain you run forward and grab the lass so that your body does not mask her face. Not only that but you have to slow down the entire process so that it's not simply a blur across the camera, and the audience can see everything. This means slowing it down without making it look fake. Not easy. Then you have to push the girl down so that it looks as though it's violent and rough, but you have to do it so you don't hurt the actress. Again, not so easy.
Finally, the breast!
Have you ever tried ripping a shirt? It doesn't rip easily. It needs some help. Stitching has to be loosened in all the right places by the wardrobe department.
Of course the stitching on these maidens' blouses were 'loosened' very expertly. Nevertheless, I had to, in my frenzy, grab the three-inch fold I'd been directed to exactly and tug. Anywhere else and the stitching would hold fast.
My wife Wendy and I became great friends with Virginia Wetherell who married Ralph Bates in 1973.
With Wendy and the perfect couple, Virginia and Ralph Bates, at the premiere of
the film 'Roar.' London.
Ralphie was a Hammer films stalwart in his early days and later on starred as Warleggan in 'Poldark.' Every Christmas he and Vig would entertain all their friends who had no family to spend the holiday with. My task was to bring the bread sauce. Very tasty it was too, though I say so myself. Ralphie died in 1991 aged just fifty-one, of pancreatic cancer, and Vig set up a charity in his name. I encourage everyone to give as generously to her charity as Ralphie gave happiness to his friends during his life.
Most people think acting is a glamorous profession and has to be the most amazing fun. Most of the time it's a job that I wouldn't change for the world. However, let's not forget the very hard work that needs to be put in even before you start in on a film project.
Natalie Portman in 'The Black Swan' is a good example. They say she train
ed for one year as a ballet choreographer. The result – she looks totally believable and, instead of her concentration being directed to her feet, she could allow her feet do the dancing almost on autopilot, while her mental focus was free to concentrate on the emotional nature of the scene.
Another example – possibly even more dramatic – is how Charlize Theron managed to make herself look the way she did in 'Monster.' For one of the most spectacular beauties of our age to morph into the character of Aillen is almost beyond belief. And what about Christian Bale in 'The Fighter'? Haggard? Gaunt? Amazing.
Over my career in films, theatre and television I have been asked to play so many different people that, looking back, I am amazed by the diversity. The majority of roles I was offered centered on my being an evil or mentally challenged young man. Why? Because that's how I made my name, onstage at the Apollo Theatre in the West End of London, playing the anoxic youth Robin in 'Children of the Wolf,' a boy who stabbed his mother to death. From there Hammer Films spotted me, and I played another two mentally challenged youths in 'Demons of the Mind,' and 'Straight on Till Morning.'
Two years down the line the die seemed to be cast. Casting directors saw me as an androgynous crazy guy, killer, manipulator, gigolo – the fact was that I was young, a trile too androgenous and had long beautiful blonde hair. The thinking was that whomever I
came to spotting the murderer. Nowadays this kind of thinking is old hat. Back then, tall dark and very mean looking actors were cast as murderers. Obvious? Yes. But that's the way it was. I like to think in some ways I broke the mould Hammer.
'Demons of the Mind' was my first foray into film. I hardly knew a thing about acting in front of a camera, so I determined to watch everyone else like a hawk and take every morsel of advice I was offered.
Peter Sykes was such a friendly man and nothing was too much trouble for him – he taught me a lot.
I mentioned before that there were some stellar acting luminaries in the line-up, but I was totally unprepared for the attitude most of the stars had to portraying roles in a Hammer horror movie. It was clear from the start that most of the male cast, the exception being Paul Jones, thought the Hammer genre should be hammed up quite a bit. After all, surely one didn't take gothic horror movies that seriously?
Robert Hardy, who played my crazed father, was a fine actor, yet I felt his portrayal of Baron Zorn just fell short of a Madame Tussaud's figure. His voice was loud and harsh sounding, as though someone had slowed down a tape recording of his natural speaking voice. Patrick Magee was clearly of the 'Hardy' camp too. Magee's fabulous sonorous tones knew no boundary in this film, and though he played a demented psychiatrist, he acted more like a psychotic medico.
Don't get me wrong, I'd always admired Patrick Magee greatly, but I simply didn't understand how over-the-top the acting was becoming. And a guest appearance of Michael Hordern, a splendid actor who has always been one of my very favourites since I saw him in M.R. James' 'Whistle and I'll Come to You,' played a wild priest on steroids.
Yvonne headed up, what for want of a better term, the 'realism camp', which included Paul Jones, Gillian Hills and myself.
Although I knew little or nothing about film, I had always been of the opinion that no matter how different the genres might be, the portrayal of any role should be real. Believable, rather than veering towards 'pantomime.' Film is a much more intimate medium, and this means less dramatic make-up and little or no projection. This
hundred and fifty feet to the back of the dress circle. So much more relaxing to think and act more inwardly.
On the first morning of filming my call time was 5.30 a.m. At the studio I was directed immediately to make-up.
Hardy and Magee were already in their chairs and Eddie Knight, one of the last make-up supervisors of the old school, a man with an accent that surely had its origins at Eton, was opening a two foot by three foot leather case. I was astonished to note it contained three gloriously antique cut-glass decanters – one containing gin, the other two filled with vodka and whisky. There was a decent selection of mixers to one side.
Eddie must have already ascertained Robert and Patrick's tipple, because as he poured Robert a G & T and served Patrick two generous fingers of Scotch whisky, he turned to me.
"Can I interest you in a choto-Peg or burra-Peg young man?" the seventy-something make-up supervisor enquired. Both were Indian names, the former a short drink such as a neat Scotch, the latter a long drink such as a gin and tonic.
Not wishing to be obtuse, I settled for a gin and tonic. And very nice it was, though I wasn't in the habit of quaffing strong liquor before lunch. But, hey, that was Britain in those days, as was hitting the bar pronto the moment lunch was called. Pinewood had a delightful bar, but the one at Elstree was not quite as old fashioned and gracious.
Of course I was to find out many years later that drinking during working hours is anathema in Australia and New Zealand, while getting stuck into a bottle of vin rouge or vin blanc is 'de rigueur' in France.
I learned a great deal from watching Yvonne. She told me all her secrets. "Watch the director of photography closely as he is lighting you, that's the key. Find your key lights. Don't be too fussy with gestures – they'll come back to haunt you when it's your time for a close-up. Most importantly, listen to what you fellow actors are saying as if it's the very first time you've ever heard these words. Don't be like so many so-called actors who simply wait for the other actors to stop speaking, then speak themselves."
I promised myself I would always know my dialogue well in advance so that I never had to worry about forgetting lines. In my early career I hardly ever tripped up over my words, and this made me feel great, as the crew never treated me as a new boy. As the years passed I came to know it's absolutely paramount to gain the respect of the crewmembers. I believe I can pretty accurately gauge what the crew thinks of actors within a few days.
Most crew members respond well if you are courteous, friendly, know your lines, hit your marks accurately every take and can act adequately. I've always found the nicest and most self-effacing actors are practically always those who have nothing to prove. My favourites in this department were Paul Newman, James Mason, Olivia de Havilland and John Hurt. Mark Harmon and Geoffrey Rush are also wonderfully solid professional actors with no attitude whatsoever – something that made working with them a pleasure. Here I am dropping names? Why not?
On the third week of the 'Demons' shoot a whole day was set aside for the scenes where the incestuous Emil is set free by his lunatic father to find young maidens. He's actually looking for his cherished sister, but when he discovers they simply village maidens, he kills them very violently. Back in Castle Zorn, in some kind of a trascentendal trance, his father gets his various kicks out of his son's murderous rampage.
So, on that day six beautiful young amply endowed blondes – yes, all blondes – were costumed in 'maidens from the village' costumes. One by one we were to shoot the scenes where I came upon them and grasped their slim and lovely necks, pushing them roughly to the ground where I suffocated them.
Once one was dispatched, it was on to the next wench.
Funnily enough they all seemed to expect the 'ripping.' I'm sure it was in their contracts. I remember asking the wardrobe supervisor how it was possible that each girl's shirt would have the same ripping pattern. She replied, "It's like a serial killer's 'signature'." I actually bought this. Fool.
James, Kit Adeane's son, came on set as my guest the day the ripping began. He wanted to know what acting in Hammer Films was like, so I simply told him that this was an average day on set – I have to run after gorgeous girls, wrestle them to the ground, tear off their flimsy blouses, then strangle them." I told him with a poker face, and then went to work.
was called I offered him a drink in the bar.
"My GOD! That's what you do every day?" he asked.
"More or less," I replied, with my best casual look of sangfroid.
Before I g
o any further into the territory of juicy asides, may I draw the attention of the reader to the words of one of my oldest friends, Jeffrey Bloom, American screenwriter and accomplished director. I'd emailed him, asking what I should do if I suddenly remembered some, shall I say, raunchy episodes. The fact is, I've never had much respect for 'kiss and tell' stories, as they often causes division amongst friends, and lead to "You never told me about THAT!" from loved ones. Upsetting.