Episode 186 - Campbell's Kingdom (1957) "Rugged Wildcatters...Fighting The Treacherous Might Of The Canadian Rockies" Grab your parka and get ready for a trip to the Canadian Rockies, because 1957's Campbell's Kingdom is a gloriously old-school adventure that absolutely bursts with high-stakes drama and breathtaking scenery. If you're in the mood for a classic "ripping yarn," this is the film for you. It's a story of grit, oil, and one man's incredible race against time, all set against one of the most stunning backdrops ever captured on film. At the heart of the story is the wonderfully charismatic Dirk Bogarde as Bruce Campbell. Given a grim health diagnosis, Bruce inherits a patch of land in Alberta known as "Campbell's Kingdom." He's told it's worthless, but his grandfather died believing there was oil under that rocky soil. With nothing left to lose, Bruce sinks his last penny and every ounce of his failing strength into proving him right. This is where the fun really starts. The film is a fantastic story of the underdog. Bruce is a man with a dream, facing down a world of naysayers. This includes the slick, menacing villain Owen (played with wonderful steel by Stanley Baker) and a looming deadline from a hydro-electric company threatening to flood the entire valley. But Campbell's Kingdom isn't just a character drama; it's a grand spectacle! Director Ralph Thomas makes the Canadian Rockies a character in their own right. The Vistavision and Technicolor cinematography is simply spectacular, with sweeping vistas of snow-capped mountains, turquoise lakes, and rugged forests that will have you longing for the great outdoors. The action builds to a truly thrilling climax. As Bruce and his small, loyal crew drill desperately for their "black gold," the tension mounts. Will they strike it rich before the dam floods them out? Will Owen's schemes succeed? The final sequences are pure, high-adventure magic, delivering a payoff that is both exciting and deeply satisfying. Sure, it's a film of its time, with earnest heroes and clear-cut villains, but that's precisely its charm. Campbell's Kingdom is a wonderfully made, optimistic, and thrilling piece of classic British cinema. It's a feel-good movie about betting it all on a dream, and it leaves you with a real sense of exhilaration. This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Episode 185 - Miranda (1948) "You've hated me ever since I set tail in this house." In the canon of post-war British comedy, there are grand spectacles and quiet character studies. And then, every so often, there's a film so completely, cheerfully absurd that it defies category. Miranda (1948) is one such treasure, a fantasy-comedy that is as polished and witty as it is delightfully naughty. It's a film that asks what would happen if a classic British "comedy of manners" was suddenly interrupted by a mermaid—and the answer, it turns in, is pure, bubbly entertainment. The story itself is a wonderfully silly concoction. Dr. Paul Martin (Griffith Jones), escaping his wife for a solo fishing holiday in Cornwall, gets more than he bargained for. He doesn't just catch a fish; he is caught by Miranda, a flirtatious, man-crazy mermaid who promptly holds him captive in her aquatic cave. His ransom? A trip to see London. What follows is a brilliant farce. Paul passes off the beautiful Miranda as an "invalid patient," concealing her tail under long dresses and wheeling her around his sophisticated London home. This is where the film truly shines, thanks to the absolutely enchanting central performance from Glynis Johns. Long before she was Mrs. Banks in Mary Poppins, Johns established her star power here. With a coy, kittenish voice and eyes that perpetually sparkle with mischief, her Miranda is a sublime creation. She's no innocent nymph; she's a charming siren who has every man in the house—from her "doctor" to the lovestruck chauffeur (a wonderful David Tomlinson)—wrapped around her little finger, or fin. While Glynis Johns is the undeniable heart of the film, she is bolstered by one of the finest supporting casts in British comedy. Googie Withers is perfectly cast as Paul's increasingly bewildered and suspicious wife, Clare. But it is the magnificent, eccentric Margaret Rutherford who threatens to steal the entire picture as Nurse Carey. Hired to look after the "patient," she is not shocked to discover Miranda's secret but openly delighted, exclaiming, "It's a mermaid! I've always believed in them!" The film is packed with witty dialogue and brilliant sight gags that never get old: Miranda's insistence on eating raw fish sandwiches, her casual snacking from the goldfish bowl, and a priceless scene at the zoo where she communicates with the seals. It's all so unapologetically fun, a droll and airy fantasy that was a smash hit with audiences at the time, and it's easy to see why. Miranda is a whimsical, charming, and thoroughly amusing escape that still feels as fresh and sparkling as the day it first splashed onto the screen. This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Episode 184- In The Name Of The Father (1993) "You got 15 years of blood and sweat and pain from my client - whose only crime was that he was bloody well Irish. And he was foolish, and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Based on the powerful true story of the Guildford Four, In the Name of the Father (1993) is a gripping legal and personal drama chronicling a devastating miscarriage of justice during "The Troubles" in 1970s England. The film centers on Gerry Conlon (Daniel Day-Lewis), a petty thief from Belfast. To escape the escalating violence, his father sends him to London. While Gerry and his friend Paul Hill are squatting in a flat, an IRA bomb explodes at a pub in Guildford, killing five people. Under intense pressure to secure convictions, the British police, led by Inspector Robert Dixon, arrest Gerry and Paul as prime suspects. What follows is a harrowing interrogation. Gerry is subjected to days of psychological torture, threats, and violence, eventually breaking down and signing a false confession. This confession is then used to implicate not only himself and Paul but also two others (the "Guildford Four") and, shockingly, members of Gerry's own family who had no connection to the crime, including his asthmatic, law-abiding father, Giuseppe (Pete Postlethwaite). This group becomes known as the "Maguire Seven." Despite glaring inconsistencies and the lack of physical evidence, the coerced confessions are enough to convict them. Gerry and his father are sentenced to life in prison. The film's focus then shifts to their 15-year incarceration. The volatile Gerry and the devout, peaceful Giuseppe share a cell, their strained relationship evolving into a profound bond of love and shared resilience. Giuseppe works tirelessly from prison to prove their innocence, while Gerry struggles with despair. They even encounter the actual IRA bomber, who confesses to the crime, but the authorities refuse to reopen the case, burying the new evidence. Giuseppe eventually dies in prison, which galvanizes Gerry. He begins working with a determined solicitor, Gareth Peirce (Emma Thompson). Peirce meticulously re-examines the case and, after a long fight, uncovers crucial files that the prosecution deliberately withheld from the defense—evidence that contained an alibi proving Gerry's innocence. In a dramatic climax, the case is brought back to court, the police corruption is exposed, and the convictions of the Guildford Four are finally quashed. Gerry Conlon emerges from the courthouse a free man, vowing to clear his father's name. This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Episode 183 - Boiling Point (2021) "I do not get paid enough to deal with this shit." The 2021 British film "Boiling Point" offers a raw and immersive look into the high-pressure environment of a professional kitchen, captured in a single, continuous take. Directed by Philip Barantini, who co-wrote the screenplay with James Cummings, the film is a technical marvel that amplifies the relentless stress of the culinary world. The production notably filmed the entire movie four times, with the third take being the one used in the final cut, a testament to the cast and crew's incredible coordination and performance. The narrative unfolds in real-time on the last Friday before Christmas, one of the busiest nights of the year for the upscale London restaurant, Jones & Sons. At the heart of the storm is Head Chef Andy Jones, portrayed with a visceral intensity by Stephen Graham. Already burdened by personal issues, Andy's night spirals into chaos from the moment he arrives. A surprise visit from a health and safety inspector downgrades the restaurant's rating, setting a tense tone for the evening. As the service gets underway, the pressure cooker environment of the kitchen reaches a fever pitch. The camera masterfully weaves through the cramped and chaotic space, capturing the escalating conflicts between the overworked staff. Andy's patient and capable sous-chef, Carly (Vinette Robinson), struggles to manage the kitchen amidst her boss's erratic behavior. Meanwhile, the front-of-house manager, Beth (Alice Feetham), adds to the friction with her mishandling of demanding customers, including a celebrity chef who is also Andy's former mentor and a renowned food critic. The film expertly juggles multiple storylines, from difficult patrons with severe food allergies to internal staff disputes, all while Andy's personal life continues to unravel just outside the kitchen doors. The result is a palpable sense of anxiety that leaves the audience on the edge of their seat, deeply invested in the fate of the restaurant and its deeply flawed but compelling protagonist. This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod You can follow Hal @coupleindemnity Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Episode 182 - All Night Long (1962) "Me? Oh, I belong to that new minority group: white American jazz musicians. They're going to hold a mass meeting in a phone booth." Get ready to step into the coolest party of 1962. Basil Dearden's All Night Long is a cinematic powder keg, a film that brilliantly transplants Shakespeare's classic tragedy Othello into the vibrant, smoke-filled world of the London jazz scene, and it does so with an electrifying pulse that never lets up. This isn't just a drama; it's a front-row seat to a once-in-a-lifetime jam session, featuring knockout performances from real-life jazz giants like Dave Brubeck, Charles Mingus, and Johnny Dankworth. The result is a stunningly stylish and suspenseful ride that swings to its own dynamic rhythm. The story unfolds over the course of a single, spectacular evening. Wealthy music enthusiast Rod Hamilton (a wonderfully suave Richard Attenborough) is hosting an anniversary party for the golden couple of the jazz world: the supremely talented bandleader and pianist Aurelius Rex (Paul Harris) and his beautiful wife, Delia Lane (Marti Stevens), a celebrated singer who has happily retired from the stage for a life with her husband. The setting is a chic, converted warehouse on the Thames, buzzing with the energy of musicians, friends, and the infectious sound of bebop. The champagne is flowing, the music is hot, and love is in the air. For Rex and Delia, it's a perfect celebration of their first year together. But lurking in the shadows of this joyous occasion is the ambitious and conniving drummer, Johnny Cousin (a riveting Patrick McGoohan). Johnny has big plans to launch his own band, but his financial backing hinges on one crucial element: persuading Delia to be his lead singer. When Delia, devoted to Rex and her new life, politely turns him down, Johnny's ambition curdles into a venomous plot. If he can't get her to join him, he'll destroy the very foundation of her happiness. With a wicked grin and a drummer's sense of timing, he sets out to poison Rex's mind, spinning a devious web of lies to convince the bandleader that Delia is having an affair with their trusted friend and saxophonist, Cass Michaels (Keith Michell). What follows is a masterclass in tension, made all the more thrilling by the incredible musical backdrop. As the party roars on, with Mingus plucking his bass and Brubeck commanding the piano, Johnny moves through the crowd like a phantom, orchestrating his symphony of destruction. He slyly gets Cass to smoke a "drugged" cigarette, loosens his tongue, and then, in a stroke of cunning genius, uses a reel-to-reel tape recorder to capture and manipulate conversations. He masterfully edits the tape to create a false, damning narrative of Delia and Cass's "love affair." McGoohan is absolutely electric as the scheming Johnny, his intense eyes darting around the room, always a step ahead, turning a joyous celebration into his personal playground of chaos. The music acts as the film's heartbeat, with each sensational performance escalating the drama until it reaches a fever pitch. When Rex finally hears the doctored tape, his love and trust shatter, leading to a raw and explosive confrontation that silences the entire party. But just when it seems tragedy is inevitable, Johnny's web of deceit is heroically untangled by his own long-suffering wife. The truth comes crashing down, and Johnny's grand ambitions are left in ashes. In a powerful final scene, he is left alone, frantically beating his drums in a furious, solitary solo. The party is over, but for Rex and Delia, there's a glimmer of hope as they walk out into the dawn, their bond tested but ultimately not broken, ready to pick up the pieces. All Night Long is a triumph—a sharp, exhilarating fusion of high drama and spectacular music that remains an absolute knockout. This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism. Episode 181 - The Gorgon (1964) " Don't use long words, Inspector; they don't suit you." Get ready to have a monstrously good time with one of Hammer Film Productions' most creative and atmospheric chillers, 1964's The Gorgon! This isn't just any old creature feature; it's a vibrant, gothic mystery that brings together the titans of terror, Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, for a truly legendary showdown. Forget what you know about Medusa, because this film introduces a new snake-haired sister to the mix, and she's ready for her close-up! The fun kicks off in the spooky little German village of Vandorf around the turn of the 20th century. This town has a serious problem: its residents have a nasty habit of turning to stone. When a young artist is found petrified, his family refuses to accept the flimsy official story. His determined father and brother arrive to uncover the truth, but the locals, terrified of a legendary curse, are tighter-lipped than a statue. This creates a wonderfully suspenseful puzzle, with our heroes piecing together clues while the village doctor (the ever-brilliant Peter Cushing) seems to know more than he's letting on. The mystery deepens with the arrival of the dashing Professor Karl Meister, played with commanding authority by the one and only Christopher Lee. He storms into town, ready to challenge superstition with science and solve the stony situation once and for all. The scenes between Cushing and Lee are electric, a fantastic duel between two masters of the genre who bring gravitas and excitement to every line. They elevate the film from a simple monster movie into a compelling human drama set against a wonderfully spooky backdrop. The film does a masterful job building the tension, giving you glimpses of slithering snakes and haunting reflections before the big reveal. When Megaera finally appears in her full, terrifying glory, it's a fantastic piece of classic horror magic. Her ghostly presence, combined with the eerie wail that precedes her, makes for some of the most memorable scenes in Hammer's history. The special effects, which show victims slowly hardening into stone, are delightfully retro and add to the film's unique charm. The Gorgon culminates in a thrilling and dramatic finale set in the ruins of Castle Borski. It's a fantastic climax filled with heroic sacrifice, shocking revelations, and a final, unforgettable confrontation with the creature. If you're looking for a horror film that is less about jump scares and more about rich atmosphere, brilliant performances, and a truly unique monster, then The Gorgon is an absolute must-see. It's a stylish, exciting, and wonderfully entertaining ride from start to finish! This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism Episode 180 - A Kind Of Loving (1962) "You know, it's a funny feeling. Sometimes I really fancy her, and the next day I can hardly stand the sight of her." More kitchen sink drama this week as Scott and Steven step into the vibrant, bustling world of early 1960s Lancashire with "A Kind of Loving," a wonderfully spirited and heartfelt romance. The story centres on Vic Brown, a wisecracking and ambitious young draughtsman with dreams bigger than his industrial town. His world is instantly brightened when he sets his sights on the lovely and charming Ingrid Rothwell, a typist at the same company. What follows is a delightful and utterly believable courtship, crackling with the electric energy of new love. Through trips to the pictures, countryside walks, and witty banter, a powerful attraction blossoms between the two. The film perfectly captures that exhilarating, head-over-heels feeling of a first romance, buzzing with the optimism of a new era. Vic's determined pursuit of Ingrid is full of charm, and their developing connection is a joy to watch unfold. As their initial flirtation deepens into a more passionate and meaningful relationship, life throws the young couple an unexpected curveball. They are suddenly forced to confront adult responsibilities much sooner than planned, putting their affection to its first serious test. Without giving anything away, the film poses a timeless question: can the intoxicating spark of initial attraction survive the very real pressures of commitment and family expectations? "A Kind of Loving" is an engaging and hopeful look at two young people navigating the complicated journey from infatuation to a more enduring love, all set against the rich and authentic backdrop of a changing Britain. This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism. Episode 179 - North Sea Hijack (1980) Forget your suave, tuxedo-clad spies. The hero of North Sea Hijack is Rufus Excalibur ffolkes, a man whose only true loves are his cats, a strong Scotch, and a perfectly executed bit of underwater sabotage. When a group of rather impolite terrorists, led by the chillingly polite Kramer, decide to hijack a massive oil rig and its supply vessel in the middle of the tempestuous North Sea, the British government is in a pickle. The villains' demand is simple: a staggering £25 million, or they'll send the pride of Britain's oil industry to the bottom of the ocean, creating an environmental and economic catastrophe. With the clock ticking and the North Sea winds howling, the Prime Minister and her advisors are running out of options. Who can possibly handle such a delicate, high-stakes situation? Enter ffolkes. He's a freelance counter-terrorism consultant with a magnificent moustache, a deep-seated dislike for all women, and a plan so audacious and meticulously bonkers it just might work. Leading a team of tough-as-nails commandos he calls "ffolkes's fusiliers," he boards a nearby ship to mastermind a counter-strike. What follows is a delicious cat-and-mouse game between a truly eccentric genius and a band of ruthless criminals. Will ffolkes's penchant for precision (and needlepoint!) be enough to outwit the villains before they send billions of dollars' worth of hardware to a watery grave? You'll have to watch to see if this feline fanatic can pull it off. "I like cats, and I don't like people who don't." This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism. Episode 178 - Carry On Cruising (1962) "During the War I did Arctic runs that would've made HMS Ulysses look like a trip to Brighton. Without getting a scratch! Two days on a simple cruise with you lot and look at me!" The sixth installment in the beloved Carry On franchise, 1962's Carry On Cruising holds a special place in the series' history. Not only did it take the familiar brand of British seaside humour to the high seas, but it was also the very first Carry On film to be shot and presented in glorious Eastmancolor. This transition to a vibrant palette marked a significant step forward for the series, elevating its visual appeal and setting a new standard for the films that would follow. However, the production was not without its own undercurrents of drama, and the final product received a mixed reception from critics and audiences alike, cementing its status as a unique and much-debated entry in the Carry On canon. All aboard the SS Happy Wanderer for what is, in theory, a relaxing cruise. Captain Crowther, played by the eternally exasperated Sid James, is hoping for one last, quiet trip before a swanky promotion. His hopes are, naturally, torpedoed within minutes. His crack team of sailors has been replaced by a collection of Britain's finest bumblers, seemingly sourced from a village fete raffle. There's Kenneth Williams as the First Officer, whose vocabulary is more expansive than the Atlantic itself, yet possesses the practical seamanship of a goldfish. Kenneth Connor is the ship's doctor, a man more interested in diagnosing a case of love-at-first-sight with a passenger than any actual ailments. And let's not forget Lance Percival as the chef, a culinary genius who discovers his arch-nemesis is the gentle rocking of the boat. What follows is less a luxury cruise and more a floating slapstick convention, now presented in dazzling colour for the very first time. This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism Episode 177 - This Is England (2006) Set in a coastal English town during the summer of 1983, This Is England centres on Shaun, a lonely 12-year-old boy grieving the death of his father in the Falklands War. After a fight at school, Shaun is befriended by a group of older, good-natured skinheads led by the welcoming Woody. He quickly finds a sense of belonging and a surrogate family within their subculture of ska music, fashion, and camaraderie. The group's joyful dynamic is shattered by the return of Combo, a charismatic but deeply troubled ex-convict with a volatile temper. Imbued with a nationalist, racist ideology from his time in prison, Combo attempts to steer the group towards far-right extremism. His intimidating presence causes a painful schism, forcing everyone to choose sides. While Woody and several others reject Combo's hateful politics, the impressionable Shaun, swayed by Combo's rhetoric about patriotism and pride, is drawn into his darker, more aggressive world. The film explores Shaun's loss of innocence as he navigates this dangerous new path, searching for a father figure amidst the social and political turmoil of Thatcher's Britain. "Some people say we're racists.We're not racists. We're realists.Some people call us Nazis.We're not Nazis.No, what we are, we are nationalists and there's a reason people try to pigeonhole us like this.And that is because of one word, gentlemen.- Fear." This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism Episode 176 - Hammer Britannia 020 - The Evil Of Frankenstein (1964) In Hammer's "The Evil of Frankenstein" (1964), a destitute Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing), with his assistant Hans, is forced to flee and returns to his ancestral chateau in Karlstaad. He finds his home looted by vengeful villagers and his original creation missing. Guided by a deaf-mute girl, he discovers the Creature (Kiwi Kingston) perfectly preserved in a glacier. After thawing and reanimating its body, Frankenstein finds its mind is dormant. Desperate, he seeks help from Professor Zoltan, a traveling carnival hypnotist, hoping to reactivate the Creature's brain. Zoltan succeeds but seizes control of the powerful being for his own greedy purposes. He commands the Creature to steal and murder, enacting revenge on the town officials who wronged him. The Creature's rampage spirals out of control, leading to Zoltan's death. In a drunken rage, the Creature accidentally sets Frankenstein's laboratory ablaze. Refusing to abandon his creation, the Baron is trapped in the inferno, seemingly perishing alongside the monster in the fiery explosion that consumes the chateau. "I realised long ago that the only way to prove my theories was to make something in my laboratory that actually lived. I never told you, Hans... I succeeded once." This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism. This week, join Scott, Steven and Mark as they discuss a genuine British wartime classic. Episode 175 - The Bridge On The River Kwai (1957) In a Japanese POW camp during WWII, British Colonel Nicholson engages in a fierce battle of wills with the camp's commandant, Colonel Saito, over the construction of a railway bridge. Nicholson's rigid adherence to principle evolves into a dangerous obsession. He becomes determined to build a perfect bridge, not for his captors, but as a monument to British ingenuity and morale. As the bridge nears completion, a symbol of his proud collaboration, an Allied commando team, including an escaped American POW, arrives to destroy it. The climax is a tragic, explosive collision of duty, pride, and the profound madness of war. "We can teach these barbarians a lesson in Western methods and efficiency that will put them to shame. We'll show them what the British soldier is capable of doing." This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism. This week, join Scott and Steven as they discuss'The Killing Of Sister George' (1968) On-screen, she's Britain's beloved Sister George. Off-screen, she's a gin-soaked, abusive tyrant. When network executives axe her popular character, actress June Buckridge's life implodes. A ruthless BBC boss not only orchestrates her professional demise but also seduces her vulnerable young lover, Alice. Stripped of her fame and her relationship in a vicious power play, George is left a humiliated, broken woman facing total annihilation. Episode 174 - The Killing Of Sister George (1968) "The Killing of Sister George" (1968) doesn't just explore the gap between public image and private life—it shatters it. On the air, June "George" Buckridge is Sister George, a beloved BBC radio nurse. Off the air, she's a gin-soaked, cigar-chewing tyrant, trapping her younger, childlike partner, Alice "Childie" McNaught, in a toxic, abusive relationship. When June's off-screen antics and declining ratings become a liability, rumors fly that the BBC plans to kill off her character. The seemingly prim executive, Mrs. Mercy Croft, is dispatched to handle the "situation," but her motives seem ambiguous. As the professional axe hangs over her head, June's paranoia and rage explode, tightening her cruel grip on the vulnerable Alice. Mrs. Croft begins to insert herself into their chaotic home life under the guise of offering support, but her interest, particularly in Alice, seems to go beyond professional concern. As June fights to save her career, a more insidious power struggle emerges within her own four walls. The film builds towards a tense confrontation between the three women, where careers, relationships, and identities hang precariously in the balance. "Appearing to be drunk happens to be one of the easier ways of getting out of some of life's most embarrassing situations." This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Bonus content available at: patreon.com/ReelBritanniaPodcast Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism Episode 173 - The Old Dark House (1963) In the 1963 horror-comedy "The Old Dark House," American car salesman Tom Penderel seeks shelter from a storm in a remote, dilapidated mansion. He finds himself an unwelcome guest among the eccentric Femm family, who are gathered for the reading of a will. The family members soon become victims of a mysterious killer, who murders them one by one in bizarre fashion. Trapped by the storm with the strange household, Tom must navigate the growing paranoia and uncover the identity of the murderer before he also falls victim. The film combines traditional haunted house suspense with elements of black comedy and slapstick, as Tom attempts to survive the increasingly chaotic and dangerous night. "No, I'm not strange. I'm American." You can find this and all our previous episodes everywhere you download your podcasts Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod email: reelbritannia@gmail.com #podcast #britmovie #reelbritannia #hammerhorror Thanks for listening Scott, Steven and Mark
Welcome to Reel Britannia-a very British podcast about very British movies ...with just a hint of professionalism. We welcome back Hal, contributer of wonderful reviews at the official Talking Pictures Podcast as well as host of his very own show Couple Indemnity. 1980s political thriller shenanigans this week as what begins as a seemingly straightforward sex scandal quickly unravels into a complex web of conspiracy. Defence Of The Realm (1986) In the politically charged atmosphere of 1980s Cold War London, Fleet Street is a battleground of ambition, rivalry, and relentless deadlines. At the heart of this cut-throat world is Nick Mullen, a young, ferociously ambitious reporter for the Daily Despatch. Mullen is driven by a burning desire to make a name for himself, to break the one big story that will catapult him to the top of his profession. He is sharp, cynical, and initially unconcerned with the moral complexities that may lie beneath a sensational headline. His world is shared by Vernon Bayliss, a veteran journalist of the old school. Where Mullen is rash and hungry for glory, Bayliss is weary, methodical, and haunted by the compromises he has witnessed throughout his long career. He serves as a reluctant mentor and a cautious sounding board for Mullen's explosive energy, their dynamic a classic clash of youthful fire and aged wisdom, bound by a shared, albeit sometimes begrudging, respect for the craft. The film ignites when Mullen receives a tantalising tip from an anonymous source. The information points to a major sex scandal involving Dennis Markham, a respected Member of Parliament who has been a vocal critic of the government's close military relationship with the United States, particularly regarding the presence of American nuclear forces on British soil. The story is explosive: Markham has allegedly been frequenting a London club where he has been meeting with a call girl who is also a suspected KGB agent. For Mullen, this is the scoop he has been waiting for. He pursues it with vigour, and the subsequent front-page exposé creates a political firestorm, effectively destroying Markham's career and reputation overnight. Initially, Mullen basks in the glory of his journalistic triumph. However, the neat narrative soon begins to fray at the edges. Small inconsistencies and lingering questions trouble Bayliss, who, with his seasoned eye for detail, starts to believe that the story was too perfect, too easily handed to them. He quietly begins his own discreet investigation, urging a dismissive Mullen to consider the possibility that they have been used as pawns in a much larger, more sinister game. Mullen, still high on his success, initially resists Bayliss's cautious counsel, viewing it as the ramblings of a man who has lost his nerve. The tone shifts dramatically when Bayliss dies suddenly and mysteriously in what is officially ruled a heart attack. Stricken with guilt and a growing sense of dread, Mullen is shocked into action. He discovers that Bayliss had been secretly investigating a seemingly unrelated event: a near-disastrous accident at an American airbase in the UK. Retrieving Bayliss's hidden research, Mullen inherits his mentor's investigation and his paranoia. He begins to piece together the terrifying truth that the Markham scandal was not about sex, but was an intricately fabricated smear campaign designed to silence him. As Mullen delves deeper into the labyrinthine cover-up, the shadows begin to close in. He finds himself under constant surveillance, his flat is ransacked, and his every move is seemingly anticipated by faceless, powerful forces within the state's security apparatus. The story he is chasing is no longer about journalistic ethics or a political scandal; it is about a chilling government conspiracy to conceal a near-nuclear catastrophe from the public. Every new lead and every potential source becomes a risk, pushing Mullen further into a dangerous isolation where the very institutions meant to uphold the nation's defence are the ones he has to fear the most. He is no longer just a reporter chasing a story; he is a man fighting for his life against an enemy he cannot see. "Vodka and Coca-Cola. Detente in a glass!" This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Follow Couple Indemnity @coupleindemnity Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Welcome to Le Hollandais, the most fashionable restaurant in town, where the food is divine and the clientele is dreadful! Meet Albert, a gangster with Michelin-star vulgarity, and his elegant wife, Georgina, who's desperately seeking a more palatable main course. She finds it in a quiet bookworm, and soon they're having their cake and eating it too, right under Albert's nose! What follows is a deliciously decadent tale of high fashion, haute cuisine, and hilariously unsubtle revenge. It's a visual feast where the only thing more shocking than the menu is the table manners. The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover (1989) Pray, draw back the heavy velvet curtain and step inside Le Hollandais, the kind of establishment where the decor is so ostentatiously opulent it borders on self-parody, and the food is so artfully constructed it seems a crime to actually eat it. This is not merely a restaurant; it is a theatre of consumption, a nightly opera of gluttony and grandeur, presided over by the stoic and endlessly patient French chef, Richard Borst. Each plate that emerges from his kitchen is a masterpiece, a testament to culinary genius. The tragedy, of course, is who gets to devour it. Enter, with all the subtlety of a foghorn in a library, the titular Thief: Albert Spica. A gangster of such profound and spectacular vulgarity, he makes a mockery of the very concept of refinement. Clad in suits that scream for attention and draped in gold thick enough to anchor a ship, Albert holds court every single night at his reserved table, the undisputed black hole of decorum in this universe of elegance. He doesn't so much dine as he performs, his booming voice ricocheting off the damask-lined walls as he pontificates on his own brilliance, bullies his sycophantic cronies, and tortures the staff with his boorish demands. He is a man who believes his wealth entitles him to treat the world as his personal spittoon, and Le Hollandais is his favourite target. And seated opposite him, a portrait of silent, simmering despair, is His Wife, Georgina. A creature of ethereal beauty and impeccable taste, she is as serene and elegant as her husband is brutish and loud. Trapped in a marriage that is less a partnership and more a hostage situation, Georgina endures Albert's nightly tirades with the grace of a marble statue. Her rebellion is a quiet one, expressed through her meticulously curated wardrobe—each outfit a masterpiece of high fashion, a silent scream of defiance against the ugliness that surrounds her. She floats through the restaurant, a ghost at the feast, her eyes starved not for food, but for a morsel of kindness, a sliver of intellect, a life less… Albert. One fateful evening, her gaze drifts past her husband's gesticulating form and lands upon a quiet man dining alone, absorbed in a book. This is Michael, Her Lover-to-be. He is everything Albert is not: gentle, learned, and capable of sitting still for more than five seconds. He reads, he eats with quiet appreciation, he exists without needing to suck all the oxygen from the room. To Georgina, he is not just a man; he is an escape hatch. A silent, smouldering glance is exchanged across the crowded room, a spark of conspiracy against the tyranny of bad taste. An affair is not just inevitable; it is a matter of aesthetic survival. And so begins one of the most audacious and absurd liaisons in cinematic history. With the tacit approval of the chef, Richard, who seems to believe that true love (or at least a desperate escape) is a cause worth risking his Michelin stars for, Georgina and Michael turn Le Hollandais into their personal playground. Their trysts are frantic, passionate, and hilariously brazen, conducted in every corner of the restaurant that isn't in Albert's direct line of sight. They find love in the cavernous, pristine kitchen amongst hanging pheasants and simmering pots. They embrace in the back of a lorry filled with rotting meat, the stench of decay a bizarre perfume for their blossoming romance. They even find refuge in the lavatories, a sanctuary of gleaming porcelain tiles. All the while, Albert sits just yards away, pontificating, stuffing his face, blissfully unaware that his wife is sampling a far more satisfying dish from the restaurant's à la carte menu of patrons. But such a delicious secret cannot be kept forever. Albert, for all his brutishness, possesses a gangster's low cunning. He begins to notice the lingering glances, the prolonged absences, the faint air of satisfaction about his wife that has nothing to do with the dessert trolley. His suspicion, once kindled, erupts into a volcanic rage. The discovery is brutal, swift, and horrifyingly inventive. Michael's sanctuary, his world of books, becomes his tomb. In an act of supreme cruelty, Albert's thugs force-feed the gentle scholar the pages of his favourite book before ending his life. This, Albert believes, is the end of the story. He is sorely mistaken. He has underestimated Georgina. The quiet, elegant statue has been shattered, and from the pieces emerges an avenging angel of haute couture. Her grief is not passive; it is a cold, hard, diamond-like fury. She seeks out the chef, Richard, not for comfort, but for collaboration. She has a recipe in mind, a final dish to be served to her husband—one that will ensure he finally gets what he deserves. The stage is set for a final, unforgettable confrontation where the main course is revenge, served ice-cold. It's a visual feast where the only thing more shocking than the menu is the final bill. Bon appétit! "Looks like catfood for constipated French rabbits!" Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism. This week, join Scott and Steven as they discuss'The Father'. A movie that poignantly depicts an elderly man's descent into dementia, masterfully portraying his disorienting reality. As Anthony's memory fractures, his daughter Anne struggles to care for him. The film uniquely places the audience within Anthony's confused perspective, where timelines shift and faces change, creating a deeply moving and unsettling exploration of aging, memory, and loss. Episode 170 - The Father (2020) All episodes at: https://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/reelbritannia Florian Zeller's 2020 film, The Father, is a poignant and unsettling cinematic experience that immerses the audience directly into the disorienting world of an elderly man grappling with dementia. The story centers on Anthony (Anthony Hopkins), a fiercely independent and proud 80-year-old living in a spacious London flat. His daughter, Anne (Olivia Colman), struggles to care for him as his grasp on reality deteriorates, yet he vehemently rejects every caregiver she hires. The film's brilliance lies in its innovative narrative structure, which eschews a conventional linear plot for a fragmented and subjective perspective. We see the world through Anthony's eyes, a confusing and ever-shifting landscape where time and space are fluid. Familiar faces inexplicably change, as different actors portray Anne and her husband, Paul. The layout of the apartment morphs, with rooms and furniture appearing and disappearing without warning, mirroring Anthony's internal turmoil and profound sense of loss. This clever and disquieting approach masterfully conveys the frustration, fear, and confusion that dementia inflicts. The audience is placed in the same bewildering position as Anthony, questioning the reality of events and the identities of those around him. We share his moments of lucidity, which are heart-wrenchingly interspersed with paranoia and accusations, particularly his recurring belief that his cherished watch has been stolen. As the narrative unfolds, it becomes devastatingly clear that Anthony's perception is unreliable. The flat we believe to be his is actually somwhere else, and his timeline of events is a jumble of memories, anxieties, and present moments. The film's climax is not a singular event but a gradual and heartbreaking erosion of Anthony's identity with some final gut wrenching scenes and a powerhouse performance from Anthony Hopkins. The Father is a powerful and empathetic exploration of dementia, leaving a lasting impression of the profound human tragedy of a mind unraveling. "I don't need any help from anyone. And I'm not going to leave my flat. All I want is for everyone to fuck off. Having said that... it's been a great pleasure. Au revoir. Toodle-oo." This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Reel Britannia - a very British podcast about very British movies...with just a hint of professionalism Fancy a twisted trip to France? Our American painter, Jeff, certainly gets more than he bargained for when he dallies with the alluring Eve. She cooks up a rather madcap scheme to spring her hubby, Georges, from the local asylum using a handy oxyacetylene torch. But hold onto your berets! This seemingly straightforward caper spirals into a fiery game of murder, mistaken identities, and shocking revelations. Turns out, some folks are just a tad maniacal, and poor Jeff's in a very sticky situation! Paranoiac (1963) Right then, pack your bags for the sun-drenched, yet surprisingly sinister, Camargue region of France! Our protagonist, the somewhat hapless American painter Jeff Farrell, arrives looking for inspiration but quickly finds himself ensnared in a rather sticky wicket. He catches the eye of the mature and manipulative Eve Beynat, who runs a local bar with her lovely stepdaughter, Annette. Eve spins a yarn about her husband, Georges, unjustly locked away in a nearby asylum for a crime he didn't commit – supposedly for using an oxyacetylene torch on his daughter's attacker. Before you can say "amour fou," Jeff is persuaded to help bust Georges out. The plan? Use that infamous torch to cut through the bars, or, if Georges has already shuffled off this mortal coil, to discreetly dispose of his remains. Naturally, things go wildly off-piste. The breakout seems to succeed, but soon a body turns up, and the ever-suspicious Inspector Etienne starts sniffing around. Jeff, bless his naive heart, finds himself sinking deeper into a quagmire of deceit, where identities blur and everyone seems to have a hidden agenda. Was Georges truly wronged? Is Eve the damsel in distress she claims? And what's Annette's real role in this increasingly dangerous charade? Prepare for twists, turns, and a climax that proves some folks are just plain maniacal! "You take a man's wife, Mr. Farrell, but not his money?" You can find this and all our previous episodes everywhere you download your podcasts Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod email: reelbritannia@gmail.com #podcast #britmovie #reelbritannia #hammerhorror Thanks for listening Scott, Steven and Mark
Fancy a playdate that's to die for? Join Mumsy, Nanny, and their darling (if slightly overaged) Sonny and Girly! This charmingly unhinged family just adores making new friends and luring them back to their quaint estate for endless games. Just remember: follow the rules, or it's permanent naptime! Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly (1970) Get ready for a rollicking, if rather unnerving, trip to the countryside with Freddie Francis's 1970 cult delight, "Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly"! Forget your typical family get-togethers; this aristocratic British clan, tucked away in their gloriously crumbling Gothic pile, has a very peculiar idea of fun, and it's all part of their never-ending, ever-so-slightly lethal "Game." Meet the players, won't you? There's Mumsy (Ursula Howells), the lady of the manor, whose honeyed tones could charm the birds from the trees – right before she plots their untimely demise. Then we have dear old Nanny (Pat Heywood), ever loyal, ever simmering, and a stickler for the family's rather unique traditions. And who could forget the children? Sonny (Howard Trevor) and Girly (Vanessa Howard) are grown-ups who've hit the pause button on maturing, preferring school uniforms and a particularly sinister brand of playtime. Their favourite pastime? Inviting charming chaps, affectionately dubbed "New Friends," back to their secluded estate for a jolly good… well, let's just say it rarely ends with a polite thank-you note. You see, these "New Friends" quickly discover that their weekend invitation comes with a few rather peculiar house rules. They're expected to join in the family's whimsical, if decidedly menacing, games. Pop a clanger, try to leg it, or generally spoil the fun? Well, that's a one-way ticket to "meeting the angels," a quaint family euphemism for a rather permanent departure, often captured on Sonny's home movie camera for a bit of fireside entertainment. The film wastes no time in showing us how previous guests have fared – it's not pretty, but it's frightfully inventive! Now, the real sport begins when a particularly sharp "New Friend" (the rather dapper Michael Bryant) wanders into their web. Unlike the others, this chap's got his wits about him. He starts to notice the little cracks in this picture of domestic bliss: the glint of jealousy between Mumsy and Nanny, the oddly chummy vibes between Sonny and Girly, and young Girly's rather blossoming, if thoroughly confused, interest in him. Our clever "New Friend" decides it's time to shake things up a bit, playing the family members off against each other like a maestro of mischief. He turns on the charm, especially with the ladies, and watches the sparks fly! Girly's head over heels, Mumsy sees a new star for her manipulative little shows, and Nanny? Well, Nanny's green-eyed monster is having a field day. Sonny, bless his cotton socks, just wants things back to the way they were and gets increasingly tetchy. As our "New Friend" pulls the strings, the once-sacred rules of "The Game" get hilariously, and then dangerously, twisted. It's not the captive causing the chaos anymore; it's the captors themselves, all clamouring for his attention and a slice of the power pie. The previously united, if terrifyingly bonkers, family starts to come apart at the seams, tumbling towards a climax that's as wildly entertaining as it is darkly satisfying. "Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly" is a cheeky poke at the old stiff upper lip and the very idea of a 'proper' family, all wrapped up in a deliciously dark and witty package. It's less about the blood and guts and more about the spine-tingling giggles and the sheer audacity of a household where innocence and insanity go hand-in-hand. So, if you fancy a film that's truly one of a kind, step into their parlour – just be sure you know the rules of "The Game"! "In a happy family, you must always have rules." Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Thanks for listening Scott and Steven
Welcome to Reel Britannia-a very British podcast about very British movies ...with just a hint of professionalism. And a huge welcome back to Hal, contributer of wonderful reviews at the official Talking Pictures Podcast as well as host of his very own show Couple Indemnity. Hold onto your snorkels! In Thunderball, suave spy James Bond jets off to the sun-drenched Bahamas. Why the holiday? Because the villainous, eye-patch-wearing Largo of SPECTRE has pinched two atomic bombs and is holding the world to ransom! 007 must navigate treacherous waters, both literally and figuratively, charming allies like the stunning Domino while dodging Largo's aquatic thugs. Get ready for thrilling underwater battles, cool gadgets, and Bond proving that even a nuclear crisis can't cramp his impeccable style. It's a high-stakes game of global poker, and Bond's all-in! Thunderball(1965) In 1965's Thunderball, James Bond, played with maximum cool by Sean Connery, finds himself in a pickle when the notoriously nasty organization SPECTRE, specifically their number two main man, the delightfully devious and eye-patch-sporting Emilio Largo, makes off with two atomic bombs. Their asking price for not reducing a major city to a fine powder? A cool £100 million in diamonds. Naturally, Her Majesty's Secret Service dispatches their best man, 007, who, after a rather explosive pre-title sequence involving a man in drag and a handy jetpack, tracks the villainy to the vibrant, sun-drenched Bahamas. Bond's mission quickly turns into a tropical tango of espionage. He crosses paths with the alluring Domino, who just happens to be Largo's mistress, and the fiery SPECTRE operative Fiona Volpe, who prefers lethal motorcycles to leisurely strolls. Armed with Q's latest toys – including gadgets perfect for underwater shenanigans – Bond dives headfirst into Largo's world, which is, conveniently, based around a superyacht and a rather shark-infested estate. The film culminates in an absolutely bonkers underwater battle royale, proving that fisticuffs are just as effective below the waves as they are on dry land. With the fate of a major city hanging in the balance, Bond and his newfound allies engage in a fin-tastic clash against Largo's scuba-equipped forces. Will Bond recover the bombs, get the girl, and deliver a perfect one-liner before the credits roll? You know the answer, but the fun is in watching him do it with effortless charm and a never-ending supply of air tanks! "My dear girl, don't flatter yourself. What I did this evening was for King and country. You don't think it gave me any pleasure, do you?" This and previous episodes can be found everywhere you download your podcasts Follow us on Twitter @rbritanniapod Follow Couple Indemnity @coupleindemnity Thanks for listening Scott and Steven