THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG DIStANCE RUNNER (1962)

The late-‘50s/early-‘60s New British Cinema (Angry Young Men; working-class sensibilities; social chip on the shoulder; ‘kitchen-sink’ realism hiding behind fashionable ‘New Wave’ camera idioms) hasn’t aged well. Its once vaunted honesty now looking as phony as the polished studio fare it was designed to blow up. And are they all directed by Tony Richardson? He must have been tiring of them, too; moving on to the fun, games & big time commercial success of TOM JONES/’63. But just before that, he made what now seems the best of the lot, a paradigm of the form, without the self-pitying/pre-deterministic edge of defeat that weighs so heavily elsewhere. With a semi-documentary style butting against occasional New Wave stylistic flair, the non-linear narrative jogs alongside Tom Courtenay’s wayward twenty-something delinquent, drifting thru bad relationships & petty crime after his father’s death and his mum’s fast turnaround with a new boyfriend. His potential as a runner, quickly spotted by Reformatory Head Michael Redgrave at the facility where he’s serving a sentence for robbery, offering a chance to lift himself up. But at what cost to Courtenay’s sense of self? And would a win at a track meet be a victory for him, or the school Head? Strong, thought-provoking stuff here, from Alan Sillitoe’s story & script, well caught in the drab beauty of Walter Lassally’s b&w lensing and in its pitch-perfect cast. Look for Edward & James Fox at the climactic race as ‘Public’ School competitors, and Alec McCowen, hopeful & painfully out-of-touch as a sympathetic counselor.