by Shane Briant
You'd think that events that occurred thirty years ago wouldn't be too important, but to some people they definitely are. So, as I started writing, I was toying with simply omitting all the fun stuff.
This is what Jeffrey said. "I'm telling you, if you DON'T put in the sexy, dirty, crazy, zany, and perverted stuff (no animal sex, please), it's a complete waste of time and energy, and will never be published, and even if it is, will never sell."
With the delicious Gillian Hills in "Demons of the Mind."
Okay. At the end of the third day's filming on 'Demons,' I was asked by an actor if I would kindly do him a favour and give Gillian Hills a lift home to the apartment I was house-sitting in Ovington Gardens. (Incidentally, it was apparently two doors down from Ava Gardner's flat, though I never spotted her.)
I didn't ask why, but I knew that had this cast member been seen with the actress, he would have been snapped by the paparazzi. The idea was that he would pick her up at my place, later.
I am not suggesting for one second that any hanky-panky took place after this lovely Lolita was whisked off from my pad in Ovington Gardens, so please don't jump to any conclusions. Ahem.
However, one evening something happened that I have never forgotten.
We arrived at my flat, and I gave Gillian a glass of something or other, and we sat down on the huge sofa, looking out onto Ovington Gardens.
I couldn't take my eyes off her – she really was perfect. I remember being amazed by her flawless skin. Not one single wrinkle or blemish; it was as if she had had the skin of a newborn infant grafted to her face. I felt a certain natural stirring below the waist as we toasted each other and Gillian tucked her long legs underneath her on the sofa. Of course I knew I could do nothing. I had my own girlfriend – but it doesn't stop your mouth watering slightly, does it?
We chatted for fifteen minutes when the conversation took a turn towards famous screen love scenes. Then it focused on things more personal.
"You know, Shane. I have never had a satisfactory…."
My pulse quickened. I was intrigued. I prompted her to finish her sentence.
"Well, you know what I mean?" she continued quietly. "I've never had a nice one."
Though I had an idea what she was referring to, I knew I could be dead wrong. Then how foolish would I look? One cannot assume that when a girl says, "Let's do it," she means leap into bed. In my
experience it normally translates as 'order that pizza.'
Was she sending me up just because I appeared a bit naïve? Or could it be…? Nah, surely not!
So what did I say? This will amaze you as much as it amazes me today.
"That's terrible, Gillian," I croaked. "Absolutely… er… terrible."
Big intake of breath.
"Have you seen a… gynecologist?"
I seem to remember her eyes glazed, she looked away, and she took a sip of Sancerre. Whether or not she had been making an advance was debatable. Most likely not – she was probably playing a joke on me, one she'd rehearsed with my fellow cast member, and she'd hit the bull's eye!
To this day I wonder why I didn't offer to help her with her 'problem.'
'Demons' was to my knowledge the first Hammer film ever to be made entirely on location. It makes sense that if both the interior and exterior of a location is perfect, why build sets at Elstree, Pinewood or Bray?
Castle Zorn, alias Wykehurst Place, was a magnificent Gothic Revival Mansion designed in 1871 by Edward Barry. Situated near Bolney in West Sussex, it looked more like a chateau in the Loire Valley. Its turrets, arches, conical roofs, and many architectural devices give it the appearance of a fairy-tale mansion. The massive black entrance gates looked wonderfully forbidding, made as it was of wrought iron.
Just to be working inside and outside of this atmospheric mansion made acting very easy. It had seen parts of Richard Attenborough's 'Oh What a Lovely War' filmed there, as well as two other Hammer films and 'The Eagle Has Landed.'
Each day, from breakfast onwards, as I stepped into the clothes and skin of the tortured Emil, I could well understand why he should be madly in love with his sister and consequently revile his Father and Aunt.
character in question. As Olivier once said to Dustin Hoffman on the set of 'Marathon Man.' "Can't you simply act it?"
If I'd been a method man it would have spoiled my wonderfully catered lunches – can't just switch off and tuck in, can you?
With Patrick McGee and Robert Hardy in 'Demons of the Mind.'
The way I operated was simply to inhabit Emil's world for the moment at hand, so as to make him both a real person and absolutely believable.
When I saw the première of the film, I remember thinking that my character didn't appear half as crazy as Hardy, Magee or Hordern. Yet it was I that was the brain-damaged assassin.
It was rumoured at the time that the Wykehurst estate belonged to one of the Great Train Robbers. This intrigued me, as at that time it was the biggest daylight robbery in British History. So keen was I to find out if this was true that I left a letter in the study one weekend addressed to Ronnie Biggs. I suggested that we meet sometime for a game of backgammon or canasta – I'd bring the drinks. Sadly, it was still where I placed it when we went back to
work on the following Monday.
The fact is, I've always been intrigued by bad guys simply because I was playing them, one after another, so I wanted to get a proper understanding of their mind set.
Paul Jones, producer Frank Godwin, Patrick Magee and director Peter Sykes.
The ones I did meet socially, via a good bit of research, seemed rather normal. I can't mention any of their names here as some of them promised to do various things to me if I did – inter alia, make a handy bag to keep small change for the Sydney Harbour Bridge out of the skin of my testicles. You'd never believe they'd think nothing of beating a complete stranger to pulp for five hundred dollars into the hand.
I've often been told that as far as most 'crims' are concerned, if you don't get on the wrong side of them they make good friends. When I hear this I always think, 'Really?' It's said all the time that they're usually very loyal until crossed, and love their families; their mothers in particular. Everyone else is a target.
One of the most interesting aspects of the 'Demons' shoot was how old fashioned the filming seemed to be.
For instance in the early seventies we were still using limelight,
also known as calcium light. An intense illumination is created when an oxyhydrogen flame is directed at a cylinder of quicklime which can be heated to 2572 °C before melting. The light is produced by a combination of incandescence and candoluminescence. Nowadays no one uses this manner of lighting, it's all electric, but the term has nonetheless survived, as someone in the public eye is still said to be 'in the limelight.'
I miss it – call me old fashioned, but I found it exhilarating when the cylinder was placed in the big light such as a 10-K with iron tongs, and then fired up producing a violently strong and brilliant light.
Another thing we used was real blood – Kensington Gore,' the mainstay of modern day horror pictures, was still to break into movies. On 'Demons' and 'Frankenstein and the Monster From Hell,' we usually used human blood from a blood bank that had reached its 'use-by date.' It was the real thing (the colour was a very deep delicious red) and the joy was that it would congeal on my hands! Also on the breasts of young maidens! Oh, and it also gave me the creeps, so that helped my performance immeasurably too!
Working alongside Yvonne again was magnificent. She was the most gifted, generous and professional actress I have ever worked with. Her way of working always involved ensemble work – she would workshop a scene with you for as long as it took to make solid sense. She'd imbue every line with the back-story of her character as well as mine. I'd look into her eyes – she played my aunt in the film – and I'd see a depth of caring and sensitivity I had only seen before in my mother's eyes. With such intense feelings coming back at me it was inc
redibly easy to become completely involved in the personal tragedy of Emil. All the other cast members I worked with, while being solid actors, seemed to be doing it by the book – acting. There's a big difference.
I've experienced this higher level of intense commitment to acting in only a handful of actors I have worked with – Rosemary Harris, Olivia de Havilland, John Hurt and Sheelagh Cullen spring to mind.
Working on a first film is a very exciting experience. I had no knowledge of how to connect with a camera. Nor did I know how the most basic things were done, what marks were, that there would be a master shot then two-shots maybe, and then close-ups. I did know you had to present the same level of performance in both
wide and close shots, yet bring down the facial expressions to accommodate such close shots. I didn't know a thing about focal lengths or key lights. Yet despite this lack of knowledge of the very basics of acting for film I was expected to start work on day one and simply 'do it.' That's where the senior cast members helped me enormously. I could ask questions of the cast as well as the director and as each question was answered I'd file away the answers. I'd also quiz the camera operator and the DoP for tips – after all they was lighting and filming me and I wanted to make his job easy while ensuring I looked my best.
I also got a big kick out of being chauffeur driven to the set each day. It made me feel special. I enjoyed having a director's chair with my name on it every kid likes that, and I was no different. I liked the catered lunches very much indeed. And when we moved to Elstree I enjoyed having my own parking space with my name on the wall. Ever the child at heart.
'STRAIGHT ON TILL MORNING.'
I started in on principal photography of 'Straight on till Morning' a few months later.
At the time I remember thinking that this was very cool – my future lifestyle would be making movie after movie in quick succession.
Rita Tushingham as Brenda in 'Straight on till Morning.'
I met Peter Collinson for the first time at Elstree, hugely impressed by his film 'The Italian Job.' I'd seen it a year or more previously. It starred Michael Caine and Noel Coward, and both were heroes of mine.
I was soon to find Peter quite difficult to work with; the kind of person that insists on getting his own way. His style was to tell the actor what he wanted, listen attentively to what the actor thought he might bring to the feast, negotiate with the actor for a very short period, then TELL him what to do.
The moment I met Rita Tushingham, I knew I'd met a friend. She was warm, and had no ego despite having a huge body of great
work behind her. I loved her at once. In the nicest of possible ways.
I believe John had wanted 'a real star' to play the lead, rather than an 'up-and-coming-nobody,' but I fully understand. If I had one of my novels made into a film and the choice was between Daniel Day Lewis and a newcomer for the lead, I know who I would choose, even if the newcomer was a pal.
John Peacock and I drifted apart and I haven't seen him for about forty years. We aim to meet later this year.
As most people are aware, films are not shot in chronological order because it's seldom financially convenient. For example, it's best to shoot all the 'scenes in the forest' on consecutive days even though they appear spaced throughout the movie. So it's always a toss-up which scenes you'll be asked to shoot first day of principal photography. Scheduling is all about budget and saving money – little thought is given to the feelings of actors, they're expected to be ready for anything.
For those unfamiliar with the film, Peter finally realizes that he must test his new love, Brenda, played by Rita Tushingham, by sharing with her his grizzly history of murder and mayhem. If she can accept the fact that he's made a few mistakes in the past – killed up to ten females – then possibly she might love him sufficiently not to rat him out to the cops. Oh, and I forgot, she is, by now pregnant with his baby. So he plays her his favourite audiotapes – recordings of the various final horrific echoing screams of his previous victims.
This doesn't go down so well with Brenda, who begins to lose it in a big way and adds to the recorded manic screams. Peter leaves the bedroom, sits down on the stairs and starts to sob.
So, on the first day of the 'Straight on Till Morning' shoot there I was, standing on a gantry at 7.30 a.m. about to film the final 'breakdown' scene of the movie.
I was to come out of the bedroom, close the door behind me, sit down and weep uncontrollably. Peter told me maybe just one full minute of wracking blubs would do.
"Okay! Let's do it, Shane. Up you go," Peter said.
I climbed the stairs and opened the door, only to notice there was no actual room there – just a plank where I was supposed to
stand.
My heart was hammering. I was so terrified of failing to get myself to a fever pitch of emotional turmoil, with tears flowing freely, that I froze.
The seconds passed.
Then I heard Peter call out loudly and angrily. "Hey! I said everyone keep quiet! So shut the **** up! Shane's concentrating."
You could have heard the proverbial pin drop.
First scene of first day at 8 am at Elstree Studios. 'Straight on Till Morning.'
Then I heard Peter Collinson from way below calling up to me – this time more warmly: "Take your time, Shane. No hurry." Then he shouted VERY loudly indeed. "EVERYONE QUIET, FOR GOD'S SAKE!!!"
I knew I had to get those tears flowing. Somehow. The silence was so palpable, I was sure I could hear the blood pumping through my veins.
I thought of tragic moments of my youth. No good. I thought of people I loved who had recently died. Nah. Dry eyes. I imagined my pet cat being run over by a car; a bit more successful, but not nearly enough.
What the hell was I going to do? Would I have to simply confess I couldn't do it naturally, and ask make-up for menthol crystals?
The shame! My career was over. I'd failed. This was it!
Immediately the tears began to flow. I opened the door, sat on the steps and sobbed like a green girl. One minute later, Peter called 'cut,' walked up to where I was sitting, wrapped me in his arms, and hugged me. I never told him that my emotional space had been many miles from my character's – that it was the fear of humiliation that saved my bacon that day!
In a way it was odd to be working on what was Hammer's first modern day film having just completed the Gothic horror of 'Demons.'
Looking back at the style of the film; my clothes, the skin tight velvet trousers from Carnaby Street, tightly fitted colourfully spotted shirts, as well as the E-type Jag, the buzz of the Earl's Court Road, the hip house I lived in – it really was such a seminal early seventies film.
Peter was a friendly man, but could turn in an instant if he didn't get his own way. I always did my best to accommodate his every whim, and when I radically disagreed with anything, I would pretend not to understand and play it my way as much as I could, knowing that the cost of film stock was paramount. You see, I looked so young and innocent that most people would look at my big blue eyes and believe any lie that came forth.
During the shoot there was one very difficult moment for me. I'm sure there was a power struggle going on between Michael Carreras, who had just taken over from his father, Sir James Carreras and was asserting his authority, and Peter who saw himself as the major cheese. I don't think Peter had much time for Michael – he was a naturally arrogant man and he expected to always be top dog. Of course, Michael was the studio head and he employed Peter – not the other way around.