|Australian Daybill, The Tommy Steele Story|
However, your Honour, the many, many other hours I spent in darkened cinemas in the 1950s, yielded riches: a murky, ruined, post-war Vienna populated by Graham Greene’s ambiguous, tainted characters, in The Third Man (1949); Boccherini underscoring Mrs Lopsided (Katie Johnson) as she confounds the blunderingLadykillers(1955); the brutality and beauty of The Vikings (1958); brilliant character actors relishing the management-worker chicanery of I’m Alright Jack (1959).
By the 1960s I was hooked. And then came the French and Italian New Waves. I had a slender grasp of their sub-texts, but I gawped at the sensuous monochrome camerawork of Raoul Coutard; the charm of Truffaut; the cruelties of Fellini; Giuseppe Rotunno’s ravishing colour photography, and Claudia Cardinale.