100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 40. The Draughtsman's Contract

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

The Draughtsman's Contract
Director - Peter Greenaway

Country - England

Year - 1982

Runtime - 108 minutes

Cinema draws heavily from the art world for inspiration and film directors often reference classic paintings by recreating memorable artworks within the scenes of their films. One British director whose filmography is explicitly linked with the art world is Peter Greenaway, whose keen eye for detail and optical theory brings a distinct visual style to his intricate methods of storytelling. The Draughtsman's Contract is his first conventional feature length film, a stunning period drama with an unusual mystery that revolves around an artist who is commissioned to draw twelve pictures of a stately home. Those with an affinity for the art world will be enamoured by Greenaway's precise framing and rich composition, as the scenes within his picturesque film embody the qualities of an alluring painting. This is exemplified by his protagonist, Mr Neville - the Draughtsman, throughout the story as he points out the various elements employed to create a successful drawing as he regales those who require his services with the details of his techniques.

When the twelve paintings are complete they are to be presented to the head of the house, Mr Herbert, as a gift. Mr Herbert is currently away from the estate and has entrusted its care to his wife, Virginia, who is instrumental in establishing the Draughtsman's Contract as a surprise for her husband. As well as being paid (rather handsomely) for his work, Mr Neville makes arrangements to gain intimate knowledge of Mrs Herbert. His frivolous sexual desire also extends to taking an interest in her daughter, Mrs Talmann, much to the frustration of Mr Talmann, who remains at the estate throughout the commission, and is suitably perturbed by the Draughtsman's intrusion.

Mr Neville is a charismatic yet conniving character, and Anthony Higgins embodies his mischievous persona in a manner that has you firmly invested in his ventures throughout. His relationships with the female members of the household are sordid affairs accompanied by frank discussions that are very revealing, and thoroughly entertaining. Both Janet Suzman as Mrs Herbert and Anne-Louise Lambert as her enchanting daughter are superb in their portrayal of the scheming ladies whose charms Mr Neville succumbs to. The uproar that arises from Mr Talmann (Hugh Fraser) when he discovers the Draughtsman has designs on his wife is a standout scene from Fraser, although it is the scenes he shares with Higgins as the two bicker during dinner that showcase the spectacular dexterity of both actors.

The witty diatribes between these two gentlemen are a source of much amusement; their indirect
methods of insulting each other are brimming with fanciful archaic language that is a delight to hear spoken in such a refined manner, with great heed being paid to elocution and enunciation. This elaborate dialogue fits remarkably well with the projected personas of the upper class nobility who strut around the estate with an air of entitlement and superiority as they flaunt their extravagant wigs and lavish outfits. The costume design is exceptional, and the setting - a sumptuous country manor in the heart of Kent - also helps to transport the viewer back to the turn of the 18th Century as the building's facade and gardens are indicative of the architecture and landscape of that time, whilst also evoking the sense of a rich family heritage.

Greenaway's long time collaborator, Michael Nyman, has created a vibrant soundtrack that is a stunning work of art in itself; the aural equivalent to Greenaway's visual feast that elevates the Draughtsman's Contract with its fresh take on the baroque music of Henry Purcell. These pompous melodies hint at the inherent dangers in toying with the rich and powerful, at a time when falling out of favour could spell ruin for those who extend their reach too far. The superb soundtrack has since been repurposed for a number of other films and television shows, most notably the excellent documentary Man on Wire, as the dramatic power it delivers is capable of enhancing the impact of any scenes it accompanies.

The inventive intricacies of Greenaway's mystery are presented in a manner which allows the observant to reach a satisfactory conclusion even though there are some incredibly bizarre and playful red herrings that can easily distract your gaze. This method of storytelling is an approach that has continued throughout the director's illustrious career although it is arguably at his most accessible here, before his fascination with experimenting began to transform into an indulgence that became alienating in some of his radical later works. Visual cues and conversations that allude to off-screen events encourage you to reassess your understanding of the situation, and the scheming nature of Greenaway's fascinating characters will cause your trail of thought to meander down the wrong path many times during this enthralling mystery.

The Draughtsman's Contract inhabits a surreal space all of its own. On the surface it appears to be a quintessential British period drama but Greenaway's playfulness marks it as a fascinating insight into the seedy lives of nobility and the dangerous games they play. Yorgos Lanthimos cited it as a huge influence on the style of his Oscar nominated film The Favourite, and the similarities show how enamoured he must be with Greenaway's classic, which is high praise indeed. It is an extraordinary and inspirational picture, visually arresting and featuring a mesmerising storyline that begs you to seek out more of his delightfully zany oeuvre. If any film's appearance can enhance your appreciation for the importance of the art world in shaping the cinema that we enjoy today, it is undoubtedly the brilliant visual style of The Draughtsman's Contract.

If you take the time to watch The Draughtsman's Contract then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!

For previous instalments in the series click here

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 39. Ex Drummer

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

Ex Drummer
Director - Koen Mortier

Country - Belgium

Year - 2007

Runtime - 104 minutes

How do you even begin to convince others to watch a film with a character called 'Big Dick', whose grotesquely large appendage literally takes center stage in parts of this extremely violent and offensive black comedy. In a surreal sequence, Big Dick even shows a friend around his girlfriend's vagina, given that it has standing room for two men after all the years it has been subject to his engorged member. If this description repulses you, then you should probably read no further. However, if you are intrigued, then welcome to your new favourite film...

Ex Drummer oozes with an anarchic punk rock sensibility from the outset as we are introduced to three handicapped musicians who are seeking a disabled drummer to complete their line-up for a special one-off performance in a music competition. They reach out to an infamous music producer, Dries, to join their band and he reluctantly agrees after they come to a decision that his handicap is his inability to play the drums. The trio comprising of a deaf bassist, an ultra-violent lead singer and a gay guitarist settle on the moniker of 'The Feminists' as suggested by Dries, and what follows is a dark and delirious journey into the Belgian music scene that ends in violence and bloodshed.

Part of the film's instant appeal is its bold stylistic choices; the opening credits show a sequence played in reverse where the band's core members travel on bicycle to Dries' house, causing mayhem on the way, as a thumping rock song accompanies their antics. Whenever the film takes us to the singer's dilapidated flat he is always pictured upside down, pacing along his ceiling, whilst visitors to his home are subject to the usual restrictions of gravity. A heated discussion about women drivers and their implied inability to park gives rise to a bizarre imagined scene where the lead singer is run over by the same car at least a dozen times as it attempts to reverse into a parking space. These memorable and captivating flourishes give Ex Drummer a hyperactive kick, exposing you to the twisted sense of politically incorrect humour that coarses through its anarchistic veins.

As well as subjecting the viewer to sexist and homophobic slurs, Ex Drummer features rape, murder, drug abuse and a whole host of disturbing nastiness that batters you senseless throughout its runtime. Without the black comedy this would be a soul crushing film - its depravity appears to know no bounds - but as it stands Ex Drummer successfully balances the horrific elements with a dark playfulness. The gallows humour chimes well with the shock factor, and these two strands are combined in a way that delivers an experience genuinely unlike any other.

Despite the deplorable actions of The Feminists and their unflattering character traits, you cannot help but warm to them to a certain extent. This is made possible by the arrogant and manipulative behaviour displayed by Dries whose cruel treatment of his new band leaves you despising his cold and calculated persona the most. The original band members may be foul individuals but their unfortunate upbringings, uncontrollable addictions, and testing living arrangements play a part in their temperaments, whereas the drummer has no excuse for his malicious and downright nasty ways.

Adapted from a well known book in its native country, Ex Drummer pushes the boundaries of acceptability and revels in its characters intense behavioural issues, serving up scene after scene of gross and uncompromising scenarios that are guaranteed to make your stomach churn. Comparisons have been made to Trainspotting and these are well founded to an extent but Ex Drummer inhabits a plane of existence all of its own. Like Trainspotting the editing is predominantly fast and frenetic but also comprises a handful of impressive long takes, and these are enhanced by the excellent soundtrack choices that capture the aggression and vigour of the film's ambience.

The striking soundtrack features a sizeable chunk of riotous punk music but also delves into other genres to bring a vibrant soundscape to the proceedings. A cover of Devo's Mongoloid is a fitting number adopted by The Feminists and the other fictional bands they are up against bring riffs and noise that matches their larger than life personalities, particularly Big Dick's band, 'Harry Mulisch'. Fans of heavy rock will delight in the disheveled venue that hosts the chaotic concert as booze flies through the air and violence erupts in the form of swirling mosh pits. Those who have had the pleasure of similar gig-going experiences will be reminded of how much fun the pure carnage can sometimes be, and may even be saddened by the fact that The Feminists are only a fictional band, who we will never see perform in real life.

A slightly jarring but welcome change of pace towards the end evokes the best of dream-like (and incredibly gory), art house horror. Each of the characters are given the opportunity to summise their pitiful existences and do so in a philosophical manner, providing the film with a thought-provoking edge as they reflect on their mistakes and regrets. This contrast to the energetic rush that precedes it brings the film to a sublime conclusion, almost at odds with the insanity we have witnessed up to now, as the characters are left as drained and exhausted as we are from the relentless headrush we have experienced.

This slick and flavourful film is practically begging to be considered a cult classic and is, quite frankly, deserving of the accolade. Director Koen Mortier and his colourful cast of crazy musicians have delivered an unforgettable kinetic fusion of music, black comedy and crime that toys with elements of horror and lingers in your mind long after The Feminists have stormed the stage. Its bold and uncompromising vision is bleak but enthralling and its unstoppable momentum propels you into a world of mayhem that degenerates into sheer lunacy. You may laugh, you may be offended, (you may even be deeply disturbed) but you will certainly be blown away by this provocative insight into the perverse lives of a fictional band and its dysfunctional members.

If you take the time to watch Ex Drummer then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!

For previous instalments in the series click here

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 38. The Ascent

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

The Ascent
Director - Larisa Shepitko

Country - Soviet Union

Year - 1977

Runtime - 111 minutes

The Ascent is a transcendental masterpiece in which Director Larisa Shepitko takes us on a spiritual and emotional journey alongside two Soviet partisans who are sent to find food for their squadron in the unforgiving icy wastes of Belarussia during World War Two. Rybak (Vladimir Gostyukhin) is the confident, self-appointed leader of this expedition and Sotnikov (Boris Plotnikov), whose physical health is rapidly deteriorating, is an expert marksman and one of the only other soldiers physically able to accompany him on this search for food that the lives of so many others depend upon. Thus begins a powerful and unforgettable catharsis for Rybak and Sotnikov as they encounter abandoned settlements, treacherous Belarusian villagers and raiding Nazi invaders who test their faith and inner strength in this stark and provocative account of a troubling time in Russia's history.

Sparse, snowy landscapes act as a stunning backdrop to this harrowing war film, with the camera lingering over moments of serene beauty before returning to the harsh reality of the protagonists struggle for survival in the bleak cruelty of winter. Handheld cameras place us amongst the soldiers, providing a realistic depiction of their confusion and fear when accosted by Nazis or fleeing through the dangerous terrain. These immersive scenes are balanced adeptly with a range of static shots including heart-wrenching close-ups of characters in immense pain, whose piercing eyes appear to penetrate your very soul as your experience their plight first hand. These stunning images evoke the iconic scenes in Carl Theodor Dreyer's The Passion of Joan of Arc, where Joan's refusal to confess leads to her martyrdom and we witness her unwavering faith that remains until the end. The use of similar close-ups in The Ascent is equally as powerful and disturbing, whilst showcasing bravura performances from the dedicated cast members who give themselves over to the camera in the pursuit of high art.

There are a number of stunning performances in The Ascent; Anatoliy Solonitsyn shines as a cruel translator and interrogator (he is excellent in another notable Soviet war film soon to be featured in this series - Trial on the Road), Sergey Yakovlev is superb as a Soviet turncoat who supports the Nazis and Lyudmila Polyakova is excellent as a doting mother who is inadvertently dragged into the partisans struggle. All of these actors portray their characters with a depth of emotion that bring Shepitko's tale to life in a way that is deeply affecting. However, it is the mesmerising performances from Gostyukhin and Plotnikov as the suffering partisan soldiers that stand out above the rest. These incredibly demanding and challenging roles inevitably required a staggering strength of character to deliver such unforgettable and haunting interpretations of two men pushed to the brink of their sanity. Shepitko actively sought an actor with a close resemblance to Jesus for the role of Sotnikov, and Plotnikov fulfils this requirement, emphasising the religious angle of this stunning parable on the strength of the human spirit.

Music is used sparingly in The Ascent; the howling wind creates an ominous atmosphere adding to the overall sense of unease without the need for an overt soundtrack. When the score does emerge, the brooding doom-laden music builds upon this sense of dread and heightens the growing tension that permeates the film's troubling scenario. One key scene is accompanied with a vibrant circus-like tune that is played by the Nazis during a heinous act and this stark audiovisual juxtaposition is one of many grim sequences that shake you to the core by providing an unbridled view of the cruel horrors of war.

The heavy themes and subject matter of The Ascent are tough to endure but it is a rewarding and eye-opening experience that is rightfully viewed as a landmark film in Soviet cinema. Its exploration of thought-provoking ideas is handled with an artistry that is utterly enthralling whilst also encouraging both introspection and reflection from the attentive viewer who is willing to delve beneath the surface of the film's barbaric storyline. Films as potent as The Ascent are few and far between, and this is a pure cinematic treasure that showcases the immense possibilities of this medium of storytelling. It is a great travesty that Shepitko died in a car crash before she could commence work on her next film but we should feel inspired that her talent was formidable enough prior to her passing to still leave such an indelible mark on the world of cinema.

If you take the time to watch The Ascent then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!

For previous instalments in the series click here

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 37. Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets
Director - Shuji Terayama

Country - Japan

Year - 1971

Runtime - 137 Minutes

Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets is a surreal psychedelic experience like no other. Director Shuji Terayama takes you into the heart of post-war Japan and its descent into materialism through a series of loosely connected vignettes that follow an angst-ridden teenager and his dysfunctional family. By creating a distinct style that encompasses a wide range of experimental techniques, Terayama voices his political statement with a kinetic vigour that is visually arresting and volatile. Music plays a huge part in his creation; the progressive punk soundtrack has the capacity to stir emotions with its thumping anthems echoing the troubled times of a city in upheaval and its rebellious cries evoking the misaligned motives of its youthful residents. This is a film that tells a story in an unusual but powerful way as it ambitiously bypasses the conventional methods of cinematic storytelling and fuses its imagery with raucous music to inject the medium with a raw and infectious energy. 

On the cusp of adulthood, the main character longs to find a place in society and spends time with a football team where an irresponsible coach takes him under his tutelage. This coach is the instrument of corruption for both our protagonist and his vulnerable sister; taking liberties with their innocence and forcing them through upsetting rites of passage. These unsettling scenes offer a stark glimpse into the fragility of adolescence and demonstrate how quickly life can be turned upside down when exposed to those possessing a manipulative nature. Both relationships can be viewed as a metaphor for Japan and how it was succumbing to Western influences in the early seventies; its societal values subjected to a profound cultural transformation in order to stay relevant and keep up with the modern world and all of its trappings.

Many of the bizarre, dreamlike sequences that act as short interludes or scenes of escapism for the adolescent at the heart of the film elicit the traits of a Jodorowsky film. The strange, ethereal quality of these shots can be both hypnotising and disorienting; though they never seem too disjointed from the segments that precede them due to the director’s masterful use of sound and colour schemes that thematically unify the picture as a whole. The enchanting cinematography belies the inherent frustration that bubbles away under the surface, a palpable frustration that builds and threatens to burst at the seams as the film launches into tirades on the state of Japan’s disaffected population.

Terayama is an early adapter of shaky cam and uses the jarring effect to reflect the agitation of his protagonist in moments where he flees or is forced away from uncomfortable or uncompromising situations. This can prove testing at times but is a hallmark of the director’s propensity for pushing the boundaries of cinema by creating provocative imagery that stimulates a response from the viewer. His radical approach to film-making exhumes a talent that seems almost unnatural when you consider that Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets is the accomplished director’s feature film debut.

Artistic merits aside, the underlying storyline also provides an enthralling insight into one teen's struggle for identity as he tries to escape from the discord around him. As his family life deteriorates, he reaches for a semblance of normality by saving up to buy a noodle stall for his father - a gesture that comes back to haunt him in one of the film’s defining moments. An intriguing coda suggestively elaborates on that which has come beforehand, offering the audience more food for thought as Terayama chooses to break the fourth wall, not for the first time, in a film littered with playful nuances that help to establish the sense that you are watching something very special indeed.

If you take the time to watch Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!

For previous instalments in the series click here

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 36. Brute Force

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

Brute Force

Director - Jules Dassin

Country - USA

Year - 1947

Runtime - 102 Minutes

Jules Dassin's bleak and sadistic prison film, Brute Force, is an arresting thrill ride that pits a host of desperate prisoners against Captain Munsey (Hume Cronyn), a cruel chief guard who is vying for the warden's position. After a handful of prisoners meet a grisly demise, Warden Barnes (Roman Bohnen) clamps down on the inmates privileges and this motivates Joe Collins (Burt Lancaster) and his rag-tag group of cellmates to embark on a dangerous escape attempt.

Lancaster's striking performance as Collins (for another superb film with a stunning central performance from Lancaster take a look at The Swimmer) reveals a man at the end of his tether, longing for freedom and determined to be reunited with his wife, who is fighting her own losing battle against a life-threatening illness. Collins stoic and charismatic nature has a tendency to inspire those around him, particularly his cellmates, who are likewise willing to risk everything for one more taste of the world outside the prison walls.

Captain Munsey has a twisted agenda; his corrupt influence over the inmates and other guards is shown in a cruel interrogation scene and it is clear that he views the prisoners as worthless pawns in his quest for power. Whilst Lancaster is the undeniable star of the show, Cronyn is exceptional as his arch-nemesis, portraying the evil chief guard with a subdued menace that lurks under the surface of a predominantly calm and composed character. The tension between the two of them is palpable throughout and, although they share few scenes, their intense encounters positively crackle with energy as the mutual hatred they have for each other threatens to spill over into their actions.

Despite all of its barbarity, Brute Force is not without light relief. One of the inmates is a soulful character who regales his fellow prisoners with catchy rhymes that bring flavour and life to what may otherwise be an utterly soul-destroying environment. When the prisoner's divert each other with amusing tales of their derring-do prior to their incarceration we are sometimes treated to humorous anecdotes, particularly a tale involving a broad called Flossy who captured the heart of one of Collin's cellmates during an escapade in an unlicensed gambling house. These moments offer a welcome respite from the film's over-arching themes of brutality and abuse of power by offering a glimpse into the human side of these law-breakers; a side which is sadly lacking amongst many of the inhumane guards.

By embodying many of the hallmarks of a film-noir, Dassin brings this gripping tale to life with stylistic flourishes that depict the horrors of imprisonment with an unnatural beauty. Shadows and lighting play a huge role in setting the ambience, as well as emphasising the refined compositions that make the picture so alluring. Almost all of the flashback scenes offering an insight into the reasons behind the incarceration of key characters feature dazzling encounters with enchanting dames and the dialogue snaps with a vicious and highly memorable bite, making it feel like certain lines are delivered by quick-witted detectives trying to outmaneuver their foes with clever wordplay.

Like most prison films the crux of the plot is a climactic escape scene that encompasses all of the familiar tropes - double crossing, valiant self-sacrifice, and unexpected complications - but does so in a novel fashion that circumvents the usual set pieces to deliver an intense and unpredictable finale that bristles with an overwhelming tension. Dassin's direction is taut and efficient throughout and the fast-paced editing in this sequence ramps up the suspense with repeated glimpses of clock hands as the time to escape looms ever nearer. At the fatal hour it is clear that the odds are against Collins and his men but you will inevitably be rooting for their success as they make their brave leap into the unknown.

Brute Force doesn't feel like a film that was first released as long ago as 1947 - this brutal depiction of incarceration has retained its formidable impact as a chilling indictment against the prison system. It is an undeniable masterclass in suspense that remains a highlight of the genre even seventy years after its inception and its unflinching portrayal of the abuse of power within the prison system place it as a picture far ahead of its time. The memorable characters and beautiful cinematography add credence to the film's pulp leanings, asserting its position as a thrilling picture that is executed incredibly well by a talented cast and crew who deliver a powerful and truly unforgettable experience.

If you take the time to watch Brute Force then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!

For previous instalments in the series click here