Darkness Without Escape: British Noir’s Bleak Horizons
It Always Rains on Sunday 1947
In director Robert Hamer’s masterful film It Always Rains on Sunday, the relentless downpour that drenches nearly every scene serves as both a symbol of psychological downpour as it is one of torrential weather. This persistent rain reflects the bleak, oppressive atmosphere of postwar London, mirroring the emotional turmoil and shattered dreams of its characters.
A bleak, numbing damp seeps through the air, a haunting echo of the shattered, bombed-out dreams of the various characters navigating a single gritty Sunday on the rain-drained streets of postwar East End London where Googie Withers offers a safe haven to her former lover, the escaped felon Tommy Swann (John McCallum).
In a commanding performance as Rose Sandigate, Googie Withers embodies the frustrations of a disillusioned housewife from Bethnal Green trapped in a monotonous marriage.
Boxed in by good-natured yet intrusive neighbors, she grapples with the bitter feelings of envy toward her stepdaughter’s vibrant social life. When her mundane existence is abruptly disrupted by her ex-lover resurfacing, it forces her to confront her longing for the past and the constraints of her current reality.
Susan Shaw as Googie Wither’s stepdaughter Vi.
Concealed in the sanctuary of her bedroom, Tommy stays out of sight while the ordinary rhythm of domesticity plays out just beyond the walls. Meanwhile, outside the house, the relentless threat of police and journalists at her door looking for him will disrupt their plans.
“ But with that desperate situation as its emotional and narrative core, It Always Rains on Sunday fans out into a sprawling, Altmanesque tapestry of East End life.” ( from Film at Lincoln Center)
Condensed into a gripping hour and a half, the film unfolds with relentless intensity, where every moment is imbued with meaning. As day gives way to the nighttime realm, the despair and alienation culminate in a surreal Stratford train-yard finale. Here, elongated shadows dance amidst swirling smoke and intricate rear projections, creating a fever-dream landscape where all narrative threads converge.
It Always Rains on Sunday is a 1947 British film adaptation of Arthur La Bern’s novel of the same name. Arthur La Bern also wrote the story that became Hitchcock’s psycho-sexual thriller Frenzy.
Robert Hamer, who directed the film, also helmed the irreverent Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949), The Spider and the Fly (1949), Dead of Night (1945) sequence – the eerie and disturbing “The Haunted Mirror,” Pink String & Sealing Wax 1945, The Detective (1954) starring Frank Sinatra which dealt head-on with then considered deviant subject matter, To Paris with Love (1955), The Scapegoat (1959), and School for Scoundrels (1960).
The British writers Robert Murphy and Graham Fuller compared It Always Rains on Sunday to the poetic realism movement in French cinema a few years earlier.
The film features a screenplay By Angus Mcphail, Robert Hamer, and Henry Cornelius, with moody cinematography by Douglas Slocombe, who began his career as a photojournalist. Slocombe also shot Kind Hearts and Coronets 1949, The Lavender Hill Mob 1951, The Man in the White Suit 1951, The Servant 1963, and the taut psychological thriller starring Stephen Boyd, Jack Hawkins, and Pamela Franklin The Third Secret 1964.
It Always Rains on Sunday marked the first significant success for Ealing Studios in Britain, one of the oldest film studios in existence. It opened its doors in 1905 and is still operating today.
Googie Withers and John McCallum met while filming It Always Rains on Sunday. They married the following year and remained together until McCallum’s passing in 2010 at the age of 91.
In a striking scene, Rose notices scars on Tommy’s back, remnants of the flogging he endured with cat-o’-nine-tails during his time in prison. This brutal form of punishment was a practice in British prisons dating back to the 19th century and was only abolished in 1948, the year after this film’s release.
Damian Murphy at The Sydney Morning Herald referred to Googie Withers as dubbed the Best British bad girl with a ‘haughty sexuality.’ Read this wonderful article here:
Googie Wither’s performance as the independent, hungry, and disillusioned Helen Nosteros in Jules Dassin’s masterpiece Night and the City was nothing short of extraordinary. Night and the City was Googie Withers’s last film for Ealing Studios, and thanks to her striking performance as a woman trapped in claustrophobic domesticity, it is perhaps one of her best.
31 Flavors of Noir on the Fringe to Lure you in! Part 2
Hermione Baddeley has a minor role as the proprietor of a flophouse. She is perhaps best remembered for her portrayal of Mrs. Naugatuck in the television series Maude or as the maid in Mary Poppins (1964).
British actress Hermione Baddeley as Mrs. Spry.
The film depicts events occurring on a Sunday, specifically March 23, 1947, as noted on a blackboard at the local underground station. The setting is Bethnal Green, an area in the East End of London that had endured significant devastation from bombings and the hardships of post-war life.
It Always Rains on Sunday unfolds over a single, dreary Sunday in post-war London’s East End. The story revolves around Rose Sandigate, whose mundane life is upended when her former lover, Tommy Swann, appears at her doorstep.
Rose Sandigate is a former barmaid who is now married to a middle-aged man with two teenage daughters from his previous marriage. Having stepped into the role of a housewife and stepmother, she navigates the challenges of post-war rationing and a bleak environment, supported by her kind husband (Edward Chapman) as he heals from past emotional wounds.
Googie Withers, Susan Shaw, and Edward Chapman.
Gladys Henson.
Edie Martin.
Alfie Bass, John Carol, Fred Griffiths, and Jimmy Hanley.
Meier Tzelniker.
Surrounding this central couple, Hamer crafts a richly intricate picture of the post-war East End. The community teems with a variety of characters, lively markets, and the story of a Jewish immigrant family.
We also encounter the philandering saxophone player navigating his romantic entanglements, there’s a small-time petty criminal, and his gangster brother, Lou (John Slater), who has eyes for Vi Sandgate’s (Susan Shaw) sister, Doris (Patricia Plunkett), and a group of hapless thieves and idlers whose recent warehouse robbery yielded nothing more than a bunch of children’s roller skates. All trying to make ends meet.
These diverse storylines intertwine, creating a vivid portrait of working-class life in post-war Britain, all set against the backdrop of relentless rain that mirrors the characters’ gloomy circumstances. The film’s atmospheric sense of doom overshadows the characters’ lives with a palpable tinge of noir-fatalism as it offers an intimate glimpse into the gritty underbelly of London’s working-class existence.
Rose learns from the newspaper about her former lover, Tommy Swann, who while serving four years of a seven-year sentence for robbery with violence, has escaped from Dartmoor prison and is on the run.
Tommy Swann, now an escaped convict, seeks shelter from the authorities, forcing Rose to conceal him from both the law and her unsuspecting family.
In noir fashion, there are a series of flashbacks reflecting on the time Rose and Tommy were engaged to be married. Tommy gets arrested for a robbery, and it is quite possible that he may actually be the father of Rose’s young son.
John Slater as Lou and Patricia Plunkett as Rose’s stepdaughter Doris.
The woman-driven narrative offers some unforgettable performances, richly layered and completely captivating. Among them is Rose’s beautiful daughter, Vi Sandigate (Susan Shaw), Rose’s elder stepdaughter; while stunning, she is also somewhat mercurial and entangled in an affair with occasional lover Morry Hyams (Sydney Taffler), the sax player who is very much married.
There’s also Doris, Vi’s younger sister, portrayed by Patricia Plunkett in her first film role. Despite her gentle demeanor and kind heart, Doris possesses quiet strength and is unafraid to voice her opinions or stand firm when the situation demands it. In contrast, we have Sadie, Morry’s wife, played by Betty Ann Davies. Sadie is no fool; she’s acutely aware of her husband’s infidelities.
Sidney Tafler as Morry and Betty Ann Davies as Sadie.
In a particularly poignant scene, Sadie confronts Morry with a mix of resignation and defiance, declaring, “ I know all about you and your little shiksas. I’ve known a long time, even if I haven’t said anything. But I’m not going to have them come here into my house.”
[Morry has just told off Sadie for buying retail]
Morry: Where are you going?
Sadie Hyams: To get some fresh air. Don’t worry; I’ll get it wholesale.
Rose’s stepdaughters — Doris and Vi.
The film introduces us to Rose in a subtle yet intriguing manner. We first hear her voice through the wall, rousing her stepdaughters with a request for tea on their father’s behalf. This initial verbal introduction cleverly piques our curiosity about her identity and her role within the household. Soon after, we’re granted an intimate glimpse into Rose’s world as she begins her day. The camera follows her through a cramped bedroom shared with her husband, George. We observe her mundane morning rituals – reluctantly drawing the curtains to reveal yet another dreary, rain-soaked day, methodically unraveling the pin curls from her hair that give the impression of shadowy night.
All the while, her husband George’s voice provides a backdrop of newspaper headlines, to which Rose responds with perfunctory interest. However, the mention of an escaped convict named Thomas Swann suddenly breaks through Rose’s apparent ennui. Though she quickly masks her reaction from George, her momentary lapse in composure speaks volumes. It’s a masterful bit of storytelling, instantly conveying to the audience that Rose’s connection to Swann runs far deeper than her outward indifference suggests, hinting at the hidden depths of her character and setting the stage for the drama to unfold.
A poignant flashback transports us to Rose’s past, revealing a vivacious young woman with hair the color of burnished gold, tending bar at a local pub. We witness pivotal moments: her first encounter with the charismatic Tommy Swann, his heartfelt proposal, and Rose eagerly packing for their wedding.
However, her dreams are shattered when news of Tommy’s arrest for robbery reaches her. The contrast between Rose’s former self, full of passion and life, and her present existence is striking. She now inhabits a world of quiet desperation. Her cramped sardine can of a house, shared with two grown women, a rowdy teenager, and a respectable yet uninspiring husband, stands as a testament to her diminished circumstances. The home’s dilapidated state, with rain seeping through broken windowpanes and taking baths in the kitchen next to the stove, further underscores the stark difference between the possibilities of her past life and the nihilism of her present one.
Rose’s first shocking encounter with Tommy Swann is when she finds him hiding in her family’s air raid shelter. He asks her to help him hide out until nightfall. Though she suffers from an oppressive feeling in her life, despite her initial shock when he puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, Rose’s unresolved feelings and lasting affection for Tommy quickly surface. Her concern for his sodden state, “You’re soaking!” she says and fears that he might fall ill betray a deep-seated yearning for their past connection that persists despite the years apart.
Rose’s actions speak louder than words. Though Tommy merely requests food, she goes above and beyond, orchestrating a moment when the house is empty to smuggle him inside and feed him. Her insistence that he rest in her bedroom while she tends to his wet clothes illustrates the years of domesticity that have prepared her, though it cannot conceal the restlessness that plagues her.
Throughout the day, Rose consistently proves herself to be resourceful, street-smart, and remarkably composed under pressure. Consider the moments of Rose’s cunning: when her stepdaughter Doris unexpectedly returns home, Rose swiftly conceals Tommy’s drying trousers with a towel. Later, when the police arrive at her doorstep, she brazenly declares she would never assist a ” Cheap crook like Tommy Swann.”
While the constable’s fleeting visit brings with it a stark warning: harboring a fugitive could result in a two-year sentence. It doesn’t deter Rose from continuing to conceal Tommy within her walls. But Rose is no fool; she doesn’t fancy herself running off with him. “ It’s too late . . . ten years too late,” Rose tells Tommy with an expression tinged with regret. “Just send me a postcard, that’s all.”
Rose is a truly sympathetic and relatable character, as Tommy’s sudden reappearance has awakened a part of her that has been buried; this re-emergence of her former lover has reunited the old passions she hasn’t felt since he went away to prison. The scene subtly hints at unresolved feelings and yearning for her past that contrasts sharply with her current life.
She successfully keeps his presence hidden from the family, but it’s Sunday, and she must prepare lunch. She scolds the girls about their misbehavior from the previous night while the husband heads out to the pub as he typically does.
Rose’s most emotionally resonant moment—and Withers’s finest acting—occurs when Tommy confesses that he needs money to get away. Initially, she offers him the last of her housekeeping funds, a gesture that underscores her willingness to sacrifice for him.
When Tommy indicates that this amount won’t be enough, Rose fetches the engagement ring he once gave her, which she has stowed away in the back of the drawer, away from George’s eyes. She gives it to Tommy so he can either sell it or take it to a pawn shop.
However, as he admires the ring, he comments that it’s a “ Nice stone” and that he’ll get a good price for it. Rose realizes with a wave of sadness that he doesn’t remember it as the symbol of their past love. She says nothing to him about its meaning.
Withers masterfully shifts emotions. In the flash of a moment, her expression transforms from love to sadness, ultimately settling into a steely acceptance as she simply replies, ” Had it given,” revealing the profound emotional weight of their shared history.
Jack Warner as Lt. Fotherfill and Frederick Piper as Det. Sergt. Leech.
As the rainy Sunday moves on, the police drawer nearer. While Tommy is preparing to flee, a newspaper reporter acting on a tip shows up at the house, enquiring about her past relationship with Swann. When he catches wind of the situation, he tries to tip off the cops, but not before Tommy assaults him and escapes.
In a moment of sheer desperation, Rose finds herself engulfed in panic, contemplating a tragic way out; she tries to commit suicide by gassing herself.
Meanwhile, the police are hot on Tommy’s trail, pursuing him to the railway sidings. After a tense chase, Detective Inspector Fothergill (Jack Warner), who has been relentlessly tracking him down, finally apprehends him.
As the film draws to a close, we see Rose in a hospital bed, surrounded by her husband’s comforting presence. He eventually leaves the hospital alone, stepping out into a serene sky that contrasts sharply with the turmoil that was.
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