"Let Him Have It" (1991)
While I've never watched this before, I had previously done some reading up on the case of Derek Bentley, so I had an understanding of the bare bones of this story. Still it was good to finally have the details fleshed out in a very well-made film.
There's a lot to love about this. The period details are wonderful and it looks surprisingly expensive.
The writing is strong, and the story told in a compelling way. I believe these people, from the stern authority of the courts to the cheeky blighters at school (it never occurred to me that kids casually collecting guns and bullets they've found and kept as souvenirs was a "thing" in the wake of WWII, but I take it this is based on fact and, of course, it does make a kind of sense). Most of all, I believe the family at the heart of the story, with each member impeccably cast.
This was the film that gave Christopher Eccleston his first major film role, becoming a significant breakthrough for him. Watching this performance it's easy to see why. Derek Bentley is a challenging role, but he is terrific every step of the way and creates such a strong rapport with the viewer it feels increasingly subjective, which makes the ending even more powerful.
Tom Courtenay's role is equally challenging, as the father who is worried about his son's choices, but who - given the era - isn't demonstrative. It's incredibly moving to see him backing his son to the hilt. He has a number of the film's most quietly effective moments. There's an interaction with the postman at the very end of the film where, drained of emotion, he doesn't say a single word. Some of it is even in a very long shot. But the combination of direction and the actor's body language bring it home. Eileen Atkins is most familiar to me as one of the creators of
Upstairs, Downstairs than as an actress. And funnily enough, while I watched this, before I knew who she was, she reminded me of Jean Marsh, star and co-creator of that very series. Again, she gives a lovely performance and shows Lilian to be strong and loving. Claire Holman, too, isn't known to me (even though she felt very familiar) and her loving chemistry with Eccleston, as his sister, is really sweet. The scenes with these as a family feel so truthful and are what make it all work. Their final visit to Derek, as hope is fading, breaks your heart.
The only person I knew was in this ahead of time was Paul Reynolds. I suppose he registered as back when the film came out he was still appearing in
Press Gang. I'm on the fence about his performance. He gives good smug, but I found him a little one-note at times (certainly, at least, when compared with the nuanced performance of Eccleston with whom he shared most of his scenes). He did great work with his rooftop meltdown, though, and felt genuinely unpredictable. Since this was a pivotal scene, I have no complaints about him being here.
Outside of that, it's a veritable who's who of familiar British character actors. Few of them are "stars" or "legends", but all are masters of the craft. The magnificent Michael Gough is quite terrifying here as notorious 'hanging judge' Lord Goddard who looks right down the lens and into the viewer's eyes (fortunately, we're spared the sight of him ejaculating, as Goddard was reputed to routinely do whilst passing death sentences).
Super Gran's Scunner Campbell plays David Maxwell Fyfe.
Brookie's Harry Cross is the Foreman Of The Jury, with Bill Dean, unusually, affecting a London accent.
Boon's Michael Elphick has a nice little part as a kindly prison officer who writes letters for Bentley and reassures him that the family is rallying up support. And Norman Rossington - best known to me from early
Carry Ons - is the friendly postie, bringing sackfuls of letters from all over the country.
The film's title comes from the most fascinating part of the argument over Bentley's guilt: whether his shouted plea "let him have it, Chris" was a request for his acquanitance to hand over the gun, as the officer had requested
immediately before, or an instruction to open fire, as his acquaintance did moments after. And so his guilty or innocent verdict hinged on semantics, and how those words are interpreted by the jury, without having heard their intonation.
When watching, I was too absorbed in the characters and the tragic story to think ahead. Even though I knew it was coming, the outcome still felt shocking and almost surprising, in large part because I was seeing it unfold through the characters' eyes.
While there is, of course, an underlying statement about capital punishment, it never feels that there's any kind of agenda.Rather, the film trusts the viewer to understand the implications and, perhaps, to do a little reading up on the case and its part in changing hearts and minds. I've done just that, and the more I read, the more tragic it becomes. Something that struck me as cruel was that, despite his family's lifelong campaign for justice, Bentley wasn't pardoned until one year after his sister had died, and many years after his parents' deaths.
