fri 21/10/2016

It Always Rains on Sunday | Film reviews, news & interviews

It Always Rains on Sunday

Robert Hamer's noirish post-war classic of Lambeth life anticipated the British new wave

Housewife's choice: Googie Withers and runaway con John McCallum get reacquainted StudioCanal

As the title suggests, It Always Rains on Sunday wasn’t one of Ealing Studios' famous comedies, but a film suffused with resignation and realism. That’s not to say the 1947 classic is monotonous: how could it be when it’s a bickering domestic drama, a panoramic portrait of Bethnal Green street culture, and a thriller that draws on French poetic realism and American film noir? And given its provenance, it does at least include a wryly comic story about petty criminals.

It’s not hard to divine why the film’s director, Robert Hamer (better known for the elegant aristocraticide of Kind Hearts and Coronets), drew on several genres and styles. He surely recognised that to get across the movie’s message at a time when audiences craved escapism, he had to spice up the stew with melodrama and adulterous sex, and conclude the film with a thrilling climax. A manhunt shot amid shunting trains in a siding at a night and indebted to the likes of Le Quai des brumes and La Bête humaine, it turned out to be one of the most exciting endings ever filmed on a real location in Britain .

Fast and spiteful, Vi  spent the night before getting drunk and fooling around with a sax player

The message was tough but necessary: at a time of deprivation, the British had to knuckle down to the struggle of returning to drab normality after the excitement of the war had worn off, finding small comforts where they could. The most important of the interwoven plot strands is a metaphor for this prescription. Rose Sandigate (Googie Withers) is a bored, irritable housewife married to the dull but decent George (Edward Chapman), whom she’s never loved. They live with their young son, and George’s two grownup daughters from his previous marriage, in a claustrophobic terraced house adjacent to a railway bridge constantly travelled by noisy goods trains.

When Rose’s virile former lover Tommy (John McCallum), seen only by her, shows up in the family’s Anderson shelter – he’s on the run from Dartmoor – her feelings for him resurface. She secretly feeds and clothes him and, shockingly, they have sex when her husband’s out. But Rose knows that Tommy wouldn’t send for her should he escape to South Africa. She will have to endure (like those East Enders whose existence was decimated by the Blitz), though the threat of being exposed as an accomplice by a nosy reporter forces her to take drastic action.

McCallum had met Withers on their previous film, The Loves of Joanna Godden, and they would remain married from 1948 until his death in 2010. For Hamer, who was gay, Tommy’s return may have symbolised the return of the repressed no less than it does for Rose. Her dilemma is mirrored by the predicaments of her stepdaughters. Fast and spiteful, Vi (Susan Shaw) spent the night before getting drunk and fooling around with a sax player, Morrie Hymans (Sydney Tafler). But Morrie has a long-suffering wife, Sadie (Betty Ann Davies), and a toddler, and when she tells him she’s leaving him, he brushes Vi off like dandruff. Like Rose, she will have to learn to relinquish superficial excitement, though she seems destined to become a kept woman, a moll, or worse.

Hamer recognised he had to spice up the stew with melodrama and adulterous sex



Share this article


I learned about British

I learned about British cinema by watching American television in the 1970s. Peeping Tom was simply not talked about by decent people in the UK and It Always Rains... was simply ignored. But not in America, where these and many more were to be seen regularly. It was while watching these films that I discovered that Hitchcock, Carol Reed and the great Powell himself were not simply aberrations in a lack-lustre cinema culture but came from a worthy and worthwhile tradition. That this wonderful film is being reintroduced is overdue and very welcome.

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
By submitting this form, you accept the Mollom privacy policy.

Subscribe to

Thank you for continuing to read our work on For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 10,000 pieces, we're asking for £2.95 per month or £25 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.

To take an annual subscription now simply click here.

And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a gift subscription?


Get a weekly digest of our critical highlights in your inbox each Thursday!

Simply enter your email address in the box below

View previous newsletters