The Creamguide (Films) Hall of Fame: Part 2

It's round two of the nominations, this week bolstered by plenty of reader's choices. But we still need more, so please do append your favourites, with reasons and eulogies and stuff of course, below.

Remember, those sole qualifying criteria -

A) they should be either British or have done the bulk of their work in Britain, and

B) their major achievements must, for the most part, have reached the Gaumonts of the nation before 1990.

Ta!

 

THE CREAMGUIDE (FILMS) HALL OF FAME: PART 2

	MICHAEL RIPPER As nominated by one CCB, who explains: 'A quick glance down the roles he played from 1936 to 1991 indicate that while never in top billing, indeed rarely in billing at all, he was clearly a stalwart of the British Film Industry. Hail to the man who played : The Third Store Employee (Carrying Packages) in The History of Mr Polly, The Liftman in Blue Murder At *and* The Pure Hell of St Trinian's *and* the Great St Trinian's Train Robbery, The Gateman in Sammy's Super T-Shirt as well as countless other definite-articled parts. Ripper had a foot in all the camps of British Cinema - Shakespeare, Drawing Room Comedy, Bawdy Comedy, Hammer Horror (he appeared in more Hammer productions than anyone else) and was a familiar face on the telly too.' FINEST HOUR: 'For a man whose lot in life was to play the ordinary man, it's only fitting that his greatest moment comes in pre-Hard Day's Night pop-flick "What A Crazy World" in which Ripper plays "The Common Man" and turns up, like a Greek chorus in various locations and situations. He doesn't actually have anything plot-driving to say or do, he's just there. A fitting testament to a man who, be it Mummy's Tomb, Pirate Ship, department store or suburban house, was just there.'
	GEOFFREY BAYLDON Ken Shinn nominates everyone's favourite crazy old duffer, 'on the strength of his demented mirth in Asylum alone. Throw in such other roles as his sympathetic Rev Philip Moss in Sky West And Crooked, the austere Prison Governor in Porridge, and his charming Ernest Thesiger homage as Theo von Hartmann in The House That Dripped Blood, and his case looks all the stronger.' FINEST HOUR: 'The two clinchers? He's the man who gave us the second-only-to-Llewellyn portrayal of Q in the real Casino Royale ("it's not for me, it's for the Official Secrets Act") AND buried Albert in Steptoe And Son Ride Again.'
	TERRY-THOMAS As nominated by Mike Davis and the majestically named Vince Tennant-Tavares. We don't know exactly what that hyphen was all about (real name: Thomas Terry Hoar-Stevens), though the man himself joked it was the gap between those famous teeth made text. We were going to try and spot where his 'cad' persona descended into self-parody, but now we come to look at it we're not sure it did. Even in the likes of The Naked Truth, the T-T persona was already fitting like a snug trilby. He's also the best thing in a fair few duds - together at last with Jerry Lewis and Jacqueline 'Servalan' Pearce in landmark-flogging comedy Don't Raise the Bridge, Lower the River, and in full song with Arthur Lowe as a duo of periwigged academics in The Bawdy Adventures of Tom Jones. FINEST HOUR: Going out on a limb here maybe, but who else could have played dastardly big game hunter Sten Martin in undercranked take-off of Edwardian silent serials The Perils of Pauline?
	PETER BUTTERWORTH Proof positive that, in many a film comedy, the nominally 'straight' man is often to be found giving a more assured comic performance than the clown. Consider his Citizen Bidet in Carry On... Don't Lose Your Head! While Williams flares and drawls and gasps as his superior, Butterworth fawns, nods in eager agreement, immediately looks puzzled as to what he's agreeing to, dismisses the worry from his mind and nods again, opens his mouth as if to respond, looks surprised when no words emerge from his mouth, looks down at the floor for a bit, then decides the best course of action is to stick to what you know best, and starts nodding eagerly again. All in the space of a single Kenneth Williams sentence. Now that's attention to detail. FINEST HOUR: Fidgeting for all he's worth in silent comedy short Ouch! as Jonah Whale, wedding wrecker.
	MARGARET RUTHERFORD The word here, of course, is 'formidable'. Formidable like the gangster's moll in Margs' first ever film role, whacking a copper with her brolly. Formidable like the Doolittle-esque pet shop owner in An Alligator Named Daisy. Formidable like Miss Prism. Formidable like Miss Marple. The sheer authority and indefatigability emanating from Margaret Rutherford means she can be as eccentric as the writers can make her, and still give off an unmistakeable air of dignity. Dottiness never deported itself with such showboating elan. FINEST HOUR: As the cucumber sandwich-munching medium Madame Arcati in the film of Blithe Spirit, complete with parrot.
	RITA TUSHINGHAM Hard to believe she started off on celluloid as the 'if wet' Audrey Hepburn, after the latter's 'people' baulked at the rum goings-on within Shelagh Delaney's A Taste of Honey and demanded a sweetness-and-light replacement ending more in tune with La Hep's star persona. And so, wisely, Rita was hired, and a '60s-defining career set in motion: The Leather Boys, Girl with Green Eyes, The Knack and How to Get It and, inevitably, Smashing Time. Even in Endsleigh League caper comedy Diamonds for Breakfast, she proves too many kooks can only improve the cinematic broth. FINEST HOUR: Hard pressed to beat The Knack we feel. Anyone prepared to run around a Maida Vale front room while Ray Brooks whips them with his belt deserves whatever awards we can fling at them, and quite possibly a month off, too.
	PERCY HERBERT Another Mike Davis nomination: 'Always adding a touch of class to his two minutes or more in many a comedy, with a good part in "The Wild Geese” to round off his career.' A protégé of Dame Sybil Thorndike no less, the big-hootered man specialised in soldiering via Kwai et al., but also branched out into thugs, cowboys and medieval barons. A dotage appearing in reliable children's fare like The Tomorrow People, One of Our Dinosaurs is Missing and Look and Read's Fair Ground! assured ready recognition for the next generation too. FINEST HOUR: Evincing a frighteningly violent portrayal of wayward Cornish sailor Matthew Quintal in Mutiny on the Bounty, then sending up that very performance the following year in Carry On Jack.
	JACK WATSON 'Always barking away somewhere in Pinewoodland,' reckons Mike Davis. Son of music hall legend Nosmo king, Warden was indicted into showbiz at an early age, playing a smartarse kid to his dad's long-suffering persona. Versatility was Jack's necessary virtue to keep up that constant stream of Borehamwood barking assignments. Accents 'were' him: cockney, Scots, American, British military, Jewish, Nordic, medieval Spanish etc., all with more accuracy than is usually settled for in the likes of The Gorgon and Schizo. FINEST HOUR: The unforgettably eerie Restoration necromancer Sir Michael Sinclair in that 'blue room' discovered by Ian Ogilvy in From Beyond the Grave.
	HARRY H CORBETT A Burmese lad, of course, but he's welcome in this pantheon anytime. One of those careers of two halves we've been hearing so much about lately for Harry, beginning with largely straight and very intense roles as thick-set heavies (The Shakedown) and uncharacteristically underplayed murderous pervs (The Cover Girl Killer). Those who know him mainly as the emotionally repressed son in the Steptoes might be interested in his disapproving dad of rock 'n' roller Ray Brooks in Some People, released in the same year as the Steptoe pilot, or of Joe Brown in What a Crazy World the year after. And of course if you want proof of consummate versatility, he's one of the few one-termers likely to be let into a heavenly Carry On reunion, thanks to his effortlessly pitch-perfect Sergeant Bung in ...Screaming! FINEST HOUR: The Steptoe films stand proud of course, but for something a little off the well-beaten put-upon Corbett track, his ruthless, almost caddish property developer up against millionaire charladies Peggy Mount and Dandy Nicholls in Ladies Who Do is an eye-opener.
	TERRY SCOTT Pre-Medford, there's a reliable seam of 'local bobby' roles racked up by the former Owen John, exhibiting, according to Mike Davis, 'a knockout line in quiet sarcasm and bumbling' as the cop in The Great St Trinian's Train Robbery. Plus, says Mike, 'trying to get Betty Marsden going in "Carry On Camping" deserves a vote or two.' It certainly does. FINEST HOUR: The aforementioned Peter Potter and his Cardinal Wolsey are sound turns, but we have to say the childishly bluff, underpants-wearing Sergeant Major in ...Up the Khyber is our favourite. 'I don't care if they were hand-made by your father!' 'Well, he did do the flowers...'
	JOAN COLLINS We're thinking of her pre-soap career here, of course. The Joan who played an assortment of cockney teenage tarts in various downmarket 'social problem' shockers. The Joan who simultaneously balanced a giant wig on her head and struggled to hold a large emerald in her navel in land of the Pharaohs. The Joan who played herself, breaking up with hubby Anthony Newley, in hubby Anthony Newley's self-indulgent biopic, while they were breaking up for real. The Joan who would fight a papier mache ant or a papier mache walking tree in the name of horror. There's so much more than the quarterback-shouldered image of today. FINEST HOUR: The elusive object of Tom Bell's desire in two parallel incarnations in Quest for Love.
	JOAN HICKSON Yes, you know how this one's going to go: More than Marple! Well, more in the sense of 'lots of other fussy old suburban dears' admittedly, but a body of work's a body of work, and if the body in the library takes the lion's share of the public's attention, that's a crime most foul. So let's hear it for her getting het up about knickers in Carry On Girls, looking repulsed in Doctor in Love, and fussing and fretting all the way through The Card. The Consummate British Housewife. We salute you, Mrs H! FINEST HOUR: The daffy old vox pop dear with the washing machine problem in delightful palate-clearing social satire Heavens Above!
	BERNARD BRESSLAW Steve Bolsover makes a mad, passionate case case for Big Bern: 'Yes, we know he can do the comedic stuff, but his turns in Krull and Hawk The Slayer prove just what a damn fine actor he was. He introduced a catchphrase to the general public, 'I only arsked', like you didn't know, he released a few singles and he was quite tall as well, so a few claims to fame there. His turn as Gort in Hawk The Slayer is by my reckoning his finest hour.' We're not going to argye with any of that. FINEST HOUR: Well, like the man said, although mention also must go to his bewildered bobby being lectured on Trotsky by a homeless David Warner in Morgan: a Suitable Case for Treatment.
	VLADEK SHEYBAL The lugubrious-visaged Polish émigré left Andrez Wajda and pals behind to make a fine living being sinister in British and American films. Starting in fine style as brooding chess grandmaster Kronsteen in From Russia With Love, and carrying on with Mosquito Squadron, Women in Love, Billion Dollar Brain et al. Also a fine sideline in telly villains in the likes of Smiley's People, making him possibly the personification of '60s/'70s Cold War discomfort. FINEST HOUR: In little-seen Avengers-esque Cold War thriller The Limbo Line, cutting a dark swathe through the endless groovy pads and roll-neck sweaters as ice cold defector-recapturer Oleg.
	WARREN MITCHELL Again, with your kind permission we'll respectfully agree to knock *that* role on the head for our purposes and delve into the wide and wonderful range of pre-Till Death... European accents from which the former Radio Luxembourg jock fashioned his filmic living. From Italy (Carry On Cleo) to Spain (Curse of the Werewolf), from Russia (Diamonds for Breakfast) to... er, somewhere of indeterminate Germanic origin (we're thinking his demented European prof in eyeballtastic cheapie The Trollenberg Terror here, as you may have guessed), that cantankerous intransigence and manic intensity that was later to acquire a cockney lilt was in plentiful supply from the off. FINEST HOUR: Relishing every line as monocled, Moonopoly-playing bastard billionaire JJ '100%' Hubbard in Moon Zero Two.
	NORMAN ROSSINGTON Earmarked for on-screen military service having come to the cinema via The Army Game, the generously-chinned Liverpudlian nevertheless amassed a varied career in his time. Steward on board the Titanic, strip show bouncer in Doctor in Love, fire engine thief in Go to Blazes, germ warfare custodian in The Rise and Rise of Michael Rimmer. Been there, done that, our Norm. FINEST HOUR: As, well, 'Norm', managing The Beatles (just about) in A Hard Day's Night.
	PETER BARKWORTH Some actors just understand the subtlety of screen acting by instinct (and we're not talking about the Michael Caine masterclass where he orders scrambled eggs with just his eyebrows). There was always something going on behind the Barkworth brow, and this skill was instrumental in his biggest achievement: making the petit-bourgeois businessman, in his suit and tie, into a fully-rounded, nay sympathetic figure. He happily accepted it was the lot of the character actor to put in tne times the work of the leading man for a hundredth of the recognition, and quietly got on with the job of being a pretty damn perfect actor. FINEST HOUR: As the treacherous Berkeley in Where Eagles Dare. As ever, a performance destined by its quiet brilliance to be terminally underrated.
	DORA BRYAN As luck would have it, Dora's main line of work - never knowingly overscrubbed ladies from the wrong side of the dog track - developed in British film as she did, as early caricature cockney concubines in The Fallen Idol and The Blue Lamp gave way to A Taste of Honey. In between was her, ahem, 'favour acquiring' headmistress in The Great St Trinians Train Robbery, and the irritant sidekick to Glynis Johns's mermaid in Mad About Men. And hers was the hotel featured in Carry On Girls, to boot! FINEST HOUR: Has to be Rita Tushingham's boozy mum and walking 'biological phenomena' in A Taste of Honey.
	SUSANNAH YORK You don't argue with Superman's mum of course, but if there was ever an odder CV among these nominees we'd like to know about it. Curling up with Coral Browne in The Killing of Sister George, strange Robert Altman crack-up study Images, terrorists-vs-hang-gliders nonsense Sky Riders, robbing a London bank via the sewers in Loophole, shipwrecked in Australia with Trevor Howard in The Adventures of Eliza Fraser, accomplice to Warren Beatty's swinging Riviera poker ace in Kaleidoscope, death by defenestration in the Awakening and running around naked on all fours in borderline-mad horror The Shout. Not a career for the faint-hearted. FINEST HOUR: Codebreaking colleague and lover to Dirk Bogarde in Sebastian, the swingingest cryptography film ever made.
	BILLIE WHITELAW Devotees of the legitimate stage can't picture Ms Whitelaw without an attendant pile of mud and crap covering her lower half, but her cinema roles were every bit as disturbing as Beckett. She was run over by Gregory Peck in The Omen. On the showbiz skids in The Comedy Man. Dragged into Albert Finney's hardboiled fantasy in Gumshoe. Attacked by Donald Pleasence in The Flesh and the Fiends. Even worse, married to Donald Pleasence in Hell is a City. Surely becoming a deranged, disembodied mouth was small relief after that lot? FINEST HOUR: Hayley Mills's frustrated mum unwisely coming on to Hywell Bennett in Twisted Nerve.
	CORAL BROWNE She may have been Australian, but with an upper-class accent as affected as that tacked-on 'e', she personified cinematic horsey haughtiness for two generations. Witness the high-living old pal of Rosalind Russell in Auntie Mame, the bathtub-bound wife of Donald Pleasence's Dr Crippen, or a superbly unfazed Alice Hargreaves in that two-misses-to-a-hit Dennis Potter film, or even her heavenly duet with Wilfred Hyde-White in Xanadu. A class act. FINEST HOUR: In the veritable 3,000 Guineas of fruity hamming up that is The Ruling Class, she manages to make the photo finish with her snobbishly randy Lady Claire Gurney.
	PETER O'TOOLE Walking the tightrope of self-parody for as long as we can remember (which is probably longer than he can remember), yet with a decent enough sense of humour about himself and his work to stave off a Burton/Reed-style meltdown. Great Oscar-missing turns are legion in his folio: we'd single out his magisterially unsteady Not Errol Flynn in My Favourite Year, and his dilettantish ly psychotic Not Jesus Christ in The Ruling Class... FINEST HOUR: ... but when all the cosmic hay's been gathered, we're sure his maniacal, airborne director-sadist in the absurdly underrated The Stunt Man will eventually be shoved up on the great big shiny pedestal it richly deserves.
	FRANCIS DE WOLFF Vladek Sheybal may have come over here from Eastern Europe for a career of Bloc-parts, but Essex-born Francis De Wolff had the monopoly on the, well, 'swarthier' end of the Euro role. Whatever the nationality though, De Wolff was genuinely not to be trusted. From Bond's uneasy ally as the gypsy camp leader in From Russia With Love to, at the other end of the social scale, the owner of the big rival cinema in The Smallest Show on Earth, you wouldn't trust the man as far as you could throw him. FINEST HOUR: The mysterious and menacing Black Dog in the famed Robert Newton edition of Treasure Island. A bad 'un and no mistake.
	VALERIE LEON Not one, but two stereotypes cling to Val - as a buxom secretary being leered at by a tubby character actor in sexcoms innumerable, and heavy-lidded otherworldly Amazon either worshipping Charles Hawtrey (Carry On Up the Jungle) or trying to do him in (Zeta One). But among all the 'Take a letter, Miss Hampton' tomfoolery, there's classier stuff, like two Bonds, and Warren Mitchell social climbing satire All the Way Up. Oh, and, er, Queen Kong of course. FINEST HOUR: A rather nifty dual role as the daughter of Andrew Kier possessed by the spirit of an Egyptian empress in Hammer's rip-roaring Blood from the Mummy's Tomb.
	WILLIAM FRANKLYN We'll ignore that damn tonic water catchphrase (tempting though, isn't it?) and celebrate the screen's smoothest operator this side of Peter Bowles for his many films instead. A trick of the memory casts him as an MI5 operative most of the time, but other than The Intelligence Men, that's down to the telly likes of Master Spy. He did, however, play an amnesiac safe-maker in Pit of Darkness, a rare gem from the cut-price Butcher's stable. At the other end of the scale, a dandy highwayman in lovely old Regal swashbuckler Fury at Smugglers' Bay. FINEST HOUR: As the effortlessly suave Cecil, putting the nervy Donald Pleasence on the spot when he calls round for drinks in Cul-de-Sac.
	MARGARET LOCKWOOD It's hard now to appreciate how 'naughty' the Gainsborough Girls were in their day. Heaving bosoms had to be snipped out for American release. Cat fights took place on British soil for the first time since Queen Mary's day. They were the country's first bona fide film stars, and Margs was a star amongst them. From dandy highwaywomen to troubled clairvoyants, from overseeing Ruritanian weddings in the Slipper and the Rose to getting a pie in the face from historical Sid Field comedy Cardboard Cavalier, she was one of the best stars we ever had. FINEST HOUR: Do you know, we find it almost impossible to choose between The Wicked Lady and The Lady Vanishes. So we won't.
	RICHARD VERNON Even the staunchest class warrior must feel that the old school patrician elite can't have been all bad if there was a Richard Vernon or two among their ranks. Those soothing, colonely, ready-rubbed tones imparted mellow wisdom in many fine films, calmly assuring us that we really had never had it so good. Outside the military and civil service, men of science were another string to the Vernon bow, especially the reluctant stooge of Inspector Dreyfuss in the blackboard-scraping The Pink Panther Strikes Again. FINEST HOUR: Idly briefing James Bond on the nefarious activities of Goldfinger. 'Have a little more of this rather disappointing brandy!'
	JOHN GREGSON Nominated by Duncan Steele as 'the “if wet” for every UK actor of the 50’s and 60’s, deserves to be in the Hall of Fame for actually agreeing to be in “Shirley’s World”.' Indeed, his second rung status is pretty ingrained: ranking below John Mills in Above Us the Waves, coming off second best to Rory Calhoun in The Treasure of Monte Cristo and, of course, hawling like brooligans with Kenneth More in love-it-or-hate-it 'lovely old British films' talisman Genevieve. FINEST HOUR: Just to put the kybosh on his genteel British heritage image, as alcoholic Irish shipyard worker in the far-from-wholesome Jacqueline.
	MIRIAM KARLIN Now, whatever you think of the two productions involved, you have to admit - A Clockwork Orange and So Haunt Me: that's variety. Miriam's one of those Brit actresses who managed to move between the barmaid/charwoman stereotype and the saucy soubrette stereotype with ease. And invest both with far more subtlety than either might suggest in the process. From Big Films like The Entertainer and Room at the Top to trifles such as The Bargee and Fun at St Fanny's, there's something for everyone here, even bolshy, whistle-blowing shop stewards. FINEST HOUR: As Eric Sykes' grubby sister, testing Peter Sellers' reverent goodwill to breaking point in Heavens Above!
	WILFRID BRAMBELL Grandson Paul McCartney may have insisted he was 'very clean', but no-one 'did' shabby like Wilfrid B. Drunks, minor tradesmen, tinkers in several films before and after Steptoe, and shifty, unwelcome dads and grandads in general were the stomping ground of an actor who only started to come to filmic notoriety in his late '40s, although by then casting directors were already adding a good couple of decades to that innings. A dirty old man, then. But what a dirty old man! FINEST HOUR: Sacrilegiously setting the Steptoes aside, the best thing in iffy Walt Disney Jules Verne adaptation In Search of the Castaways is easily Brambell's demented performance as a crazy-eyed, Bible-bashing loon.