The characteristics of British cinema back in the classic days tended towards a self-referential sense of playfulness. There was exaggeration, but not with the baroque weirdness of German Expressionism, and Pinewood seemed to take itself a little less seriously than Hollywood. Take the thriller. All thrillers, regardless of how high-mindedly they ostensibly dealt with death and danger, are essentially excuses for excitement. The British thrillers of Alfred Hitchcock are simply an open acknowledgement of that fact, and no matter how gruesome or twisted their subject matter are always rolled out with a disrespectful sense of fun.
Young and Innocent is a bit of an odd hybrid for the Master of Suspense. As with nearly all of his later British works it takes the form of a fast-paced adventure, in which a male and female protagonist are thrown together by circumstance, and is typical of the screenplays of crucial collaborator Charles Bennett. However it differs in that, rather than being about spies and international intrigue, the catalyst for the adventure is a murder, something Hitch would have far more dealings with in his Hollywood career. This aspect makes Young and Innocent a very visually dynamic picture, as the director gets to indulge his streak of morbid sensationalism. The picture opens with a series of startling sounds and images; a couple arguing, faces moving into the frame, a close-up of seagulls screeching as the body is discovered. It's a classic Hitchcock murder – grisly, fascinating but never tragic. This attention-grabbing prelude pays off later on, because once the adventure is underway the details of the slaying fall by the wayside, and yet because of those close-ups we are able to recall them easily when they become important again at the end of the picture.
As the title would suggest, youth and innocence are written upon the faces of the two leads. Fresh-faced Derrick De Marney is both charming and trustworthy in one of his earliest lead roles, making a likable if not exactly rugged hero. The one to watch here however is Nova Pilbeam, who at eighteen genuinely was a youngster. Perhaps because of her youth, she really embodies the sense of adventure, and makes it seem completely plausible that she would gladly run off with a man accused of murder. In her one emotional scene she does not resort to the hysterics of many actresses of the time, and her believable breakdown into tears reminds me very much of similar performances by Judy Garland. De Marney and Pilbeam are accompanied by Edward Rigby as a lovable old tramp. Rigby is not a bad substitute for Edmund Gwenn (who normally got these roles), and his appearance as British-stock-character-turned-unlikely-hero is really a joy to watch.
And it is things like this Rigby character that are at the heart of Young and Innocent. You just wouldn't get that in an equivalent picture from the US. In Hollywood, a bum is a bum, and he wouldn't just start running round helping the good-looking young leads (unless of course he smartened himself up a bit like William Powell in My Man Godfrey). It's that good-natured willingness to make your "serious" picture slightly undignified in the name of fun.
Young and Innocent is a bit of an odd hybrid for the Master of Suspense. As with nearly all of his later British works it takes the form of a fast-paced adventure, in which a male and female protagonist are thrown together by circumstance, and is typical of the screenplays of crucial collaborator Charles Bennett. However it differs in that, rather than being about spies and international intrigue, the catalyst for the adventure is a murder, something Hitch would have far more dealings with in his Hollywood career. This aspect makes Young and Innocent a very visually dynamic picture, as the director gets to indulge his streak of morbid sensationalism. The picture opens with a series of startling sounds and images; a couple arguing, faces moving into the frame, a close-up of seagulls screeching as the body is discovered. It's a classic Hitchcock murder – grisly, fascinating but never tragic. This attention-grabbing prelude pays off later on, because once the adventure is underway the details of the slaying fall by the wayside, and yet because of those close-ups we are able to recall them easily when they become important again at the end of the picture.
As the title would suggest, youth and innocence are written upon the faces of the two leads. Fresh-faced Derrick De Marney is both charming and trustworthy in one of his earliest lead roles, making a likable if not exactly rugged hero. The one to watch here however is Nova Pilbeam, who at eighteen genuinely was a youngster. Perhaps because of her youth, she really embodies the sense of adventure, and makes it seem completely plausible that she would gladly run off with a man accused of murder. In her one emotional scene she does not resort to the hysterics of many actresses of the time, and her believable breakdown into tears reminds me very much of similar performances by Judy Garland. De Marney and Pilbeam are accompanied by Edward Rigby as a lovable old tramp. Rigby is not a bad substitute for Edmund Gwenn (who normally got these roles), and his appearance as British-stock-character-turned-unlikely-hero is really a joy to watch.
And it is things like this Rigby character that are at the heart of Young and Innocent. You just wouldn't get that in an equivalent picture from the US. In Hollywood, a bum is a bum, and he wouldn't just start running round helping the good-looking young leads (unless of course he smartened himself up a bit like William Powell in My Man Godfrey). It's that good-natured willingness to make your "serious" picture slightly undignified in the name of fun.