A short, jet-lagged edition of The Forgotten this week. We'll be back to full-size next time.
The British film "industry" throws up interesting talents on a semi-regular basis, and throws them out almost as often: while a massive industry like Hollywood can afford waste, and indeed requires it to some extent (you can't make a blockbuster epic without throwing money around pretty loosely: a moment's misplaced frugality could ruin the desired effect of overwhelming extravagance), Britain's feckless attitude to its homegrown filmmakers is harder to understand, since they're not so easy to replace.
David Gladwell has had an odd career: the BFI, which gave him intermittent support in the Sixties, Seventies and Eighties, has just released his 1975 Requiem for a Village on Blu-ray. Memories of a Survivor, his 1981 Doris Lessing sci-fi adaptation starring Julie Christie, remains unavailable. I recall one image, a giant egg that fills a room, like an Arabian Nights roc egg transported to England. A suitable subject for a future edition of The Forgotten?
Here's An Untitled Film (1964), which gives a strong idea of Gladwell's sense of visual poetry. Several intercut actions and characters in what may be a single setting. Can you invent a narrative to unite them?
Chicken-lovers beware: the film contains acts of fowl violence you may find distressing.
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The Forgotten is a regular Thursday column by David Cairns, author of Shadowplay.