One of my all time faves, this- a classic of the late 60s counterculture genre where makers of a 'serious drama' would borrow from the conventions of the sex film, the horror movie and the crime thriller to create wonderful bizarre hybrids. The period between 1965 and 1980 is my all time favourite for British cinema, and DEEP END is one of the reasons why. Direcor Jerzy Skolimowski (the man who also gave us THE SHOUT and MOONLIGHTING) continually deals with the idea of the outsider trapped in a strange world or unbefitting set of cicumstances, and this film is probably his best demonstration of those themes. The setting of the film is perfectly suited to them- a strange suburban hinterland not-quite-London, yet not-quite-the countryside either. Actually, it looks a lot like the St Peters district of Margate if you ask me, but this is highly unlikely as most British films of this kind at the time were filmed in either Middlesex, Herts, Bucks or Surrey- ie in close proximity to the studios.
John Moulder-Brown (whatever became of him?) gives a great performance as one totally divorced from reality, a boy teetering on the edge of physical and sexual manhood but lacking the requisite emotional makeup to make the full transition, still halfway between being an adult in the workaday world and a boy with adolescent yearnings, which can of course so easily become obsessions. Diana Dors' cameo illustrates this point perfectly: Jane Asher's performance as a girl who has jumped into womanhood far too quickly, and occupies a hazy netherworld somewhere between a total slapper and an emancipated lady with a brain, is amazing: you sympathise with her and hate her all at once, as you do for her sleazy swimming instructor/lover and her befuddled mod-about town boyfriend (Christopher Sandford, who is best known for his work with Pete Walker). All of them seem to be wandering around in metaphorical circles: this is represented in one of the film's best remembered scenes, where Moulder-Brown continually paces the streets of Soho to the trance-like strains of Can's "Mother Sky", carrying around a gigantic cardboard effigy of Asher in the nude, torn between following her into a nightclub (which later became Madame JoJos, where ironically I used to work), seeking the sympathy of a bedridden prostitute, or buying repeated hotdogs (then a new sensation in the UK) from Burt Kwouk. It's this total and utter lack of linear sense to anything, and frustration at repetitive events, that we can all identify with, yet which Skolimowski manges to portray as something almost poetic.
The final scene is incredible- quite possibly one of the most tense, bizarre and unrealistic yet totally believable segments of a British production- but for those of you who haven't seen it, I'm not saying a word!! Suffice to say, you will be shocked and stunned.
Sadly, my copy of this is a bit pants- the sound is rather muffled and the picture isn't great either, so I'd go with Spliffy's if I were you. A film of this calibre should be appreciated properly.
Last edited by Jack Gurney; 12-03-2007 at 02:25 PM..
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