The concept for this post originated during a period of being stranded overseas earlier this year while a war was kicking off. Since returning, I have been considering how to develop this idea of films that portray British folk abroad. Whether for holiday, work or permanent residence, I intend to list my favourites in cinema.
Issues arose when I deviated from the initial concept by including war movies or films with a war-adjacent theme. Additionally, films featuring British supporting characters abroad were excluded. I also encountered difficulties with the nationalities of actors and the characters they portrayed. This was particularly tricky with the film Wake in Fright (1971), where I was uncertain whether John Grant, the film's protagonist, was English or an Australian, despite his obvious accent. Similarly, Tom from Who Could Kill a Child? is an English character, but Lewis Fiander, who portrays him, is an Australian. These inconsistencies were a significant headache, and I just wanted to get it done.
I was compelled to complete this task before the end of the summer holidays as posting after that timeframe would be considered late. Most British people return home from their holidays before September, so publishing this blog post now felt appropriate.
The Lady Vanishes (Alfred Hitchcock, 1938)
Set in the fictional European country of Bandrika, The Lady Vanishes is a film about a British tourist who notices the disappearance of an elderly passenger on her train. As she investigates the mystery, she is confronted by numerous instances of gaslighting from the other travellers. Fortunately, she is aided by a musician who believes in her story.
Margaret Lockwood and Michael Redgrave are remarkably compelling playing the leads. Their electric chemistry is a significant factor to what makes the film so appealing. However, the supporting characters, predominantly consisting of other British tourists, is what qualifies The Lady Vanishes for this criteria. Caldicott and Charters, serve as precursors to C-3PO and R2-D2 thanks to their comical remarks. Their obsession to arrive in Manchester on time for a test match, makes them the most enthusiastic cricket fans you’ll ever see on film.
Hitchcock’s classic signature style and elements are all there, even for such an early film from the legendary director.
Dracula Prince of Darkness (Terence Fisher, 1966)
A prime example of British entitlement overseas. The Kents, our naive English tourists, disregard all warnings to avoid the region of Karlsbad, Hammer’s fictionalised name for what is essentially Transylvania. It's to their regret and our entertainment, regardless.
After being abandoned in the forest by their coachman, the foursome are greeted by a driverless carriage that transports them to Castle Dracula. Despite their dire situation, they remain convinced they have been rescued. While there, they encounter the sinister Kolve, the creepy servant, who offers them hospitality from his deceased master. “You know, if only that coachman knew it, he did us a favour by abandoning us.” Charles Kent remarks. The saps even raise a toast to the Count. The equivalent of turkeys voting for Christmas.
This culminates in Alan Kent’s murder by Kolve. Hoisted over a sarcophagus containing Dracula’s remains, Alan is subsequently slashed in the throat and the iconic Kensington gore resurrects the Count, in a remarkably disturbing effects scene. That same night, Alan’s distressed wife (unknowingly a widow), Helen (the First Lady of Hammer, Barbara Shelley), becomes the Count’s vampire wench.
Too bad Helen succumbed to the undead, as she was the only one with any real intuition, and the least annoying Brit in the entire film. Almost a wasted effort for Andrew Keir's Father Sandor to come along and rescue the remaining Kents, as it’s doubtful the toffee-nosed couple even learnt anything from their ordeal.
The Italian Job (Peter Collinson, 1969)
Following his release from prison, Charlie Croker is persuaded by the widow of his former partner to proceed with the heist he had masterminded in Turin, Italy. The crime would involve dozens of individuals, numerous vehicles and an engineered traffic jam. All of which during an England away match and in broad daylight. The situation becomes more complex and perilous when Charlie realises the potential of having to contend with the mafia as well as the police.
The appeal of this comedy crime caper lies in its encapsulation of 1960s British optimism during its period of pop cultural prominence. Hence, such an audacious and intricate heist executed by a diverse class of characters, including cheeky Cockneys and ‘chinless wonders’, reflects the broad spectrum of Britishness on film. This is spearheaded by Michael Caine’s Croker, among a cast of recognisable actors including Noël Coward, Robert Powell and Benny Hill.
The film’s most iconic scenes are undoubtedly the ones involving the red, white and blue Mini Coopers. Sadly, there's little time to mourn for their destruction, before the literal cliffhanger ending.
It's completely unsurprising that The Italian Job has become a TV favourite during bank holidays, festive events and national sporting occasions. An instant patriotic shot in the arm for all Brits; which is ironic, given it’s about a gang of British criminals going overseas to pillage.
And Soon the Darkness (Robert Fuest, 1970)
Jane and Cathy, two English nurses on a cycling holiday in France, temporarily separate after an argument over their travel plans. This decision proves ill-advised, as they soon realise the dangers of being completely alone in an unfamiliar country.
Robert Fuest’s paranoia-fuelled thriller emphasises the perils of being a stranger in a foreign land. This is particularly challenging for the pair of young women, who are constantly leered at by men and a language barrier that further adds to their insecurities. Hence, there is a deliberate uncertainty in the intentions of the few locals offering assistance. Paul, the suave-looking moped driver, who constantly watches them from afar, being a major example.
Pamela Franklin delivers an understated performance as sensible Janet in what is arguably final girl prototype material. Brian Clemens and Terry Nation’s screenplay is full of unexpected twists and turns, which always makes this a compelling viewing, especially when the film is largely set on a French country road. This is complimented by Fuest's direction managing the rare triumvirate of suspense, dread, and terror in broad daylight. The end result, is a superb Hitchcockian-style thriller.
Carry On Abroad (Peter Rogers, 1972)
Pub landlord Vic Flange’s plans to go on holiday to the Mediterranean island of Elsbells with voluptuous, local widow Sadie Tompkins have been rumbled by his wife, Cora. Despite her travelling apprehensions, Cora would prefer to accompany her husband, just to keep a watchful eye on him. Thus, she’s another Brit holidayer on the Wundatours Travels package holiday.
The rest of the holidaymaker ensemble are introduced while boarding the coach to the airport. They include: Stanley Blunt, a sexually deprived husband and his prudish and domineering other half Evelyn; alcoholic mummy’s boy Eustace Tuttle; brash Scotsman Bert Conway; girlfriends Lily and Marge, on the hunt for blokes; Nicholas and his possessive gay friend Robin; and a group of twelve monks, including Brother Bernard, who is struggling to adapt to his new life in the religious order. All managed by Wandatours Travels representative Stuart Farquhar and his attractive assistant Moira Plunkett.
It turns out the Elbells Hotel remains under construction when they arrive there. Despite this, Pepe the multi-role proprietor is insistent on accepting guests. Thus, our British holidaymakers experience a series of unfortunate events where they’re barely fed, bitten by mosquitoes, disturbed from their sleep by construction workers, and deprived of any personal privacy. Fortunately, a brawl outside a local brothel, a spiked punch bowl, and in the case of Mrs. Blunt, an adulterous couple of hours with, Georgio, the hotel barman, transform the holiday from Hell into a blast. There’s a vital lesson to be taught here, but I can’t think of it.
Talbot Rothwell’s comedy dialogue is exceptional in this film. The scene where the Flanges and Blunts share a dinner table is a prime example of his writing talent. Vic offers to pour wine for the prudish Evelyn.
Evelyn Blunt: Not for me, thank you!
Vic Flange: No? You don’t drink?
Evelyn Blunt: No, I tried it once and didn’t like it.
Vic Flange: Oh! Have a smoke?
Evelyn Blunt: I tried it once and didn’t like it.
Vic Flange: Strange.
Evelyn Blunt: Not at all. My daughter is just the same.
Vic Flange: You’re only child, I presume.
Slide whistles and double entendres! This is a favourite of mine from the Carry On films. At this stage in the franchise, the cast and crew are so familiar with one another, that their chemistry feels completely natural. I also appreciate the construction of Helsbells Beach, which was created using a pile of sand and deckchairs in the parking lot of Pinewood Studios. Really remarkable how much can be achieved with a low budget.
The world isn't ready for Peter Rogers being considered one of the most prolific directors of all time.
Horror Express (Eugenio Martin, 1972)
Professor Sir Alexander Saxton, a palaeontologist, makes a groundbreaking discovery when he finds what he believes is the missing link in human evolution, preserved in the caves of Manchuria. He is determined to return to England with his find and boards the Trans-Siberian Express. There he is met by his rival Dr Wells, a mad monk and a series of horrifying deaths, before the cossacks join in.
When the frozen missing link is revealed to be an alien energy that kills and possesses its victims, paranoia ensues. A detective remarks that either one of the pair of scientist scould also be the alien fiend. The insulted Dr. Wells responds with one of my favourite retorts: "Monster? We're British, you know."
Based on John W. Campbell’s Who Goes There?, the source material for both The Thing from Another World (1951) and John Carpenter’s remake The Thing (1982), Horror Express is a also a cult classic, in its own right. Renowned for being a brilliant science fiction horror story, Eugenio Martin compliments it with a chilling atmosphere and genuinely terrifying scenes which haven't dated; notably the bleeding blank eyes. The film is also notable for sterling performances by two legendary British actors who portray the aforementioned English scientists.
Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee have appeared in numerous films together, but Horror Express is arguably the film in which they share the best chemistry. The film also benefits from a period setting and old fashioned characters which imbue it with a classic Hammer horror feel, rather than the Spanish production that it really is.
Who Can Kill a Child? (Chicho Ibáñez Serrador, 1976)
Following a disturbing, black-and-white documentary-style introduction, depicting children as victims of numerous manmade conflicts worldwide, we meet Tom and Evelyn, an English couple on holiday in Spain. Tom is eager to take his pregnant wife to Almanzora, a remote island he once visited before; untouched by the hustle and bustle of tourism. Upon arrival, they discover the adults are missing and the children behaving very strangely.
When Tom and Evelyn eventually encounter an adult, it’s an elderly man being beaten to death with his walking stick by a giggling young girl. Tom becomes even more horrified when the victim is hoisted onto the rafters and used by the children as a sick type of piñata. Tom attempts to shield Evelyn from the truth but is unsuccessful as the children eventually pursue the English couple.
The manner in which the children became psychotic murderers is not clearly explained, but it appears that their psychopathy is transmitted to other youngsters like a telepathic virus.
Grim, downbeat and utterly enthralling, Who Can Kill a Child? is one of the most underrated ‘70s horror movies ever.
Zombie Flesh Eaters (Lucio Fulci, 1979)
After a pair of patrolmen encounter an undead looking CeeLo Green on a boat adrift in New York's harbour, a young American woman and a British journalist travel to the Caribbean island of Matool to uncover the mystery of her missing father and how on earth a zombie was on his boat.
This peak era Fulci film is blessed with a beatbox-worthy theme, Tisa Farrow seemingly having no clue what is going on, the most W.A.S.P.y-looking Italian actor ever, and an unforgettable underwater fight scene between a shark and a zombie. But what makes Zombie Flesh Eaters also special is watching a couple of English thespians treating this ultra gory, Italian splatterfest classic with the same level of professionalism as a Michelangelo Antonioni film.
Richard Johnson plays the dishevelled Dr. Maynard, obsessing over the supernatural phenomena of the dead coming back to life. His research comes at the expense of neglecting his rightfully hysterical wife, who is also stuck on Matool with him. Meanwhile, Ian McCulloch is hilarious as the investigative journalist Peter West trying it on as an action man with a ridiculous comb over. Both British characters make valiant attempts to keep a stiff upper lip in this unofficial sequel to Dawn of Dead. Therefore, it's all the more fun when their British reserve clashes with Fulci's sense of nihilism.”Out there! They're coming back to life! They're everywhere!”
Sexy Beast (Jonathan Glazer, 2000)
Retired gangster Gary ‘Gal’ Dove is living a comfortable life with his wife DeeDee in their sun-kissed villa in Spain. The couple spend their days with friends Aitch and Jackie. While tanning his leathery hide, a boulder rolls down the nearby mountain and shatters the double-heart tiles of Gal’s swimming pool. This accident proves to be an ominous sign, as Don Logan, a former colleague of Gal’s, announces his arrival.
Don’s objective is to enrol Gal in a London heist orchestrated by his superior, Teddy Bass. However, Don’s refusal to accept no from the former safecracker leads to the expatriates being subjected to a tirade of intimidation by the ruthless psychopath; with Gal being the most severely affected. When the foursome foolishly think they are rid of the London gangster, their living nightmare returns back to them after intentionally and hilariously getting himself kicked off his plane.
I feel obligated to quote Don Logan's comical get-out-of-jail dialogue whilst being detained by airport security, as it could have very easily been a short skit off the foul-mouthed Derek & Clive comedy albums:
Don Logan: Before you start, I wanna say something. Let me ask you something, please. Have you ever been sexually assaulted? No, neither have I. Until today, on that plane.
Airport Security Officer: What?
Don Logan: Yeah! That's what I said. There's me putting my bag up in the cupboard, next thing you know, I feel hands on me. Someone's touched me, touched my front... my front bottom. I can't believe it! I've gone all cold. I look 'round. He's standing there, isn't he? That steward with a guilty look on his face. I was shocked, I didn't know what to say. I had to sit down, I was that perturbed. And then his mate, the other one, who was giving us all lessons on what we'll all do if we land in the sea, how to work your life jacket etc, he starts and all. Starts looking at me all funny. Suggestive. Now, I don't know whether they wanted me for a twos-up, or something, I don't know how they work it, but I'll tell you what, it scared me, I was shaking like a leaf. So, without thinking, I lit up a cigarette to calm me nerves. I was trembling. I was very emotional. And that's when all the rest of it happened. It's very regrettable. Now, I don't want to kick up a fuss, right? Press charges, contact the British Embassy. I'd rather not pursue those channels. Not my style. Not that sort of a bloke. I wouldn't want to lose the man his job. A man's got to eat. And, I'm sure he's not representative of all you Spanish people. But I would appreciate it if you have a word with him. Let him know he's been rumbled. It's the one with the ginger hair.
Ray Winstone and Ben Kingsley deliver phenomenal performances; the latter’s acidic verbal abuse and menacing appearance are particularly noteworthy, while Winstone contrasts it with perfect nuance to balance the film. Additionally, Ian McShane delivers a brooding and threatening performance as Teddy, which is not as widely recognised as it deserves to be.
Overall, Jonathan Glazer’s debut is a masterpiece that stands well and truly above the once popular wave of British gangster films released in the late 1990s and early 2000s. Today, its peers are largely forgotten, while Sexy Beast has gained even greater recognition as a landmark of British cinema.
Berberian Sound Studio (Peter Strickland, 2012)
When British sound engineer Gilderoy is hired to work on a film in Rome, he did not anticipate that The Equestrian Vortex would be an Italian horror film. Its egotistical director, Giancarlo Santini, wouldn't call it that, however. The film maker even feels insulted by the description: “This is not a horror film. This is not a horror film. This is a Santini film.”
A significant aspect of Peter Strickland’s film is the psychologically abusive treatment of the timid English sound engineer by both the production staff and the various eccentric individuals in the studio. With the exception of Silvia, a voice actress, they are openly rude and hostile towards him. Despite his creative sound engineering skills, he is assigned menial tasks such as chopping fruit and vegetables for foley work. All to replicate the sounds of the various decapitations and dismemberments we never see in Santini's film. Furthermore, he is subjected to an unending bureaucratic delay when attempting to claim a refund for his flight expenses. The entire experience is hell for our reserved protagonist, who opines to be back home in the English suburbs.
Berberian Sound Studio becomes increasingly surreal over its duration, leaving the viewer uncertain whether the strange events are real or a product of Gilderoy’s unhinged imagination. The metaphorical levels of a stranger in a strange land become more apparent when the protagonist becomes consumed by the film himself. At one point he appears on screen, subsequentially talking in fluent Italian, too. Thus, the lines of reality are blurred. Which makes Berberian Sound Studio similar to most of David Lynch's films.
Honourable mentions: The Man Who Would Be King (1975) and Deep Red (1975).
I only watched Our Man in Havana (1959) for the very first time a few days ago, and as much I really liked it, I thought it was a bit rich if I included it here.
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