I Start Counting
Thursday April 22, 2010 in 60s cinema |
With Walkabout and The Railway Children being enduring features of the television schedules, it’s odd that a far superior film starring the young Jenny Agutter is now totally forgotten. Made in 1969, I Start Counting was directed by David Greene and is a lost classic of British cinema. It’s one of the best depictions of that era I’ve seen on film; old buildings demolished for the New Town, quaint vehicles, short skirts and ugly shopping centres. It’s like a dose of late 60s Ken Loach but with the added spice of one of the more progressive Hammer films of the early 70s.
I Start Counting is taken from a novel by Audrey Erskine-Lindop, which I suspect may be now even more obscure than the film. Agutter plays Wynne, an adopted 15 year old girl who is infatuated with her much older step brother David (Bryan Marshall). Sharing a cramped flat with the rest of the family, Wynne’s predicament is partly a claustrophobic study of sexual awakening. Added to this, she begins to suspect David as having some involvement in a local murder. She even covers for him, finding his blood stained clothes and burning them. What makes I Start Counting unusual, and especially for its period, is that the thriller aspect is kept very much as a back story; the film is confident to move at a slow although very involving pace, concentrating on Wynne’s journey into adulthood with her more precocious best friend Corinne (Clare Sutcliffe). Greene is also a skilled enough director to weave some subtle red herrings into the plot. You never really know where this film is leading you.
Undoubtedly some viewers will find this film dated, although for me this works in its favour by making it a superior period piece from 60s British movies. The observations made about the new replacing the old aren’t too overblown, and there is some scepticism surrounding the so called New Towns of the time; Wynne escapes her tower block life and finds solace by revisiting the now derelict former family home. Her trips into the countryside seem brief and eagerly snatched, but the natural environment appears dangerous to all else concerned. In one scene Wynne is feared missing, her trips to the old house seen as a foreshadowing of doom. There are other curious and subtle observations throughout; Corinne, fatally disadvantaged by her brash and outgoing nature, and the unusual ending which suggests that Wynne’s wishes may have come true.
I Start Counting has a very good, although mostly low profile, cast. Apart from Agutter, probably the most recognisable face is Simon Ward, who is impressive in the small yet pivotal role as a seedy bus conductor. Also look out for Michael Feast, contemporary of Bruce Robinson, playing a character with a very close resemblance to Danny in Withnail and I. Apart from this eccentricity, the performances are very naturalistic and convincing. Marshall and Sutcliffe are both excellent but Agutter is simply a revelation here. Nowhere else will you see her so wide eyed and impressionable. Cinema has committed a crime by not doing more with her.