A taste of brilliant cinema

A bit of catch-up cinema today, with a first viewing of A Taste of Honey, the 1961 film from director Tony Richardson from Shelagh Delaney’s 1958 play of the same name, which they jointly adapted.

An iconic piece of British New Wave – often described as kitchen sink drama – it opens as 17-year-old Jo is nearing the end of her time in school, desperate to escape both that and her self-absorbed, good-time mother Helen.

But even in her last few days at school, her mother hasn’t paid the rent, so the pair have to make a dash from their grubby lodgings to escape – not for the first time.

On the way to somewhere new to stay, Jo is helped with heavy suitcases by a young black man, Jimmy. Later, walking alongside the Manchester Ship Canal – she meets him again. He’s a cook on a ship that’s temporarily docked there. They begin a brief courtship.

Meanwhile, Helen has hooked up with a new boyfriend, Peter – clearly quite successful financially, but also rather seedy – who wants to make “an honest woman” of her. When a ‘family’ weekend trip to Blackpool goes wrong, Jo heads back to Manchester alone and bumps into Jimmy. They make love.

The inevitable happens, but she is supported by Geoffrey, a gay textile student, who moves into her grubby digs, does things up and generally looks after her.

However, Helen isn’t happy about that.

This is a very good film. From a personal perspective, it’s set in a part of the country I know – even if only some years later than the film was made – and has a resonance on that level.

It’s unflinching in terms of its approach to the post-war state of the country – children play on bomb sites and Jo is, more than once, disgusted to see children who are clearly not being looked after properly (a reflection of her own experience of growing up).

It’s not simplistic, though, never making the mistake of not understanding why we reach for moments of happiness, even if those can ultimately be costly.

The cast is uniformly excellent. Dora Bryan as Helen makes a mockery of any idea that she was ever ‘only’ a light comic actor. Robert Stephens is subtle in the role of the unpleasant, sexist Peter.

Both Paul Danquah as Jimmy and Murray Melvin as Geoffrey turn in nuanced performances that never fall into the trap of cliché.

To add, John Addison’s music is very effective – predominantly with the use of children singing, which reminds us of how young Jo in particular is.

Very much worth a watch.