Limau, the last person to comment on this film , writes that Britain has the highest incidence of teenage pregnancy in the Western World. In fact, the teen pregnancy rate in the U.S. is twice that of any other industrialised nation. Check it out for yourself with Google.
And now, back to the film. Like Limau, I disagreed heartily with a lot of the film's message: that unrestricted breeding is cool; that children are sweet and nice and no-one should mind looking after other people's; and that the posher your accent, the more cruel and evil you are. I thought it was shockingly unsubtle propaganda. I found myself thinking afterward that Britain needs both a better housing system and a one-child policy.
But what a film! More than forty years later its naturalistic style still has unobservant people thinking it's a documentary. That may not be such a good thing, but it says a lot for the direction. It's also beautiful to watch, despite the ugliness of its theme. Its hand- held- camera-work manages to be both clever and unobtrusive (watch when the family enters their new caravan for the first time). This film was made more than 40 years ago and, technically, it stamps all over a lot of much more expensive, much more recent films.
As for the content, all the horrible things done to the homeless in the film really did happen to real people in the preceding years, and the film did a great deed in documenting them.
It might have been a stronger film if it hadn't gone along with the myth that children are always quiet and cute and people who don't welcome them into their homes with open arms must be right bastards. If children weren't so inclined to be noisy and messy and unpredictable and demanding and expensive then the issue wouldn't be as serious. However, if the film had been less wholeheartedly sympathetic towards poverty-stricken breeders it might not have had the effect on the British public that it did. I guess most people like to see a bit of themselves in sweet, gormless Cathy and Reg. Everybody should see this film. It's important on several levels. But don't see it when you're feeling down and try not to get all bent out of shape, as Limau and I did, by its unequivocally bleeding-heart message.
And now, back to the film. Like Limau, I disagreed heartily with a lot of the film's message: that unrestricted breeding is cool; that children are sweet and nice and no-one should mind looking after other people's; and that the posher your accent, the more cruel and evil you are. I thought it was shockingly unsubtle propaganda. I found myself thinking afterward that Britain needs both a better housing system and a one-child policy.
But what a film! More than forty years later its naturalistic style still has unobservant people thinking it's a documentary. That may not be such a good thing, but it says a lot for the direction. It's also beautiful to watch, despite the ugliness of its theme. Its hand- held- camera-work manages to be both clever and unobtrusive (watch when the family enters their new caravan for the first time). This film was made more than 40 years ago and, technically, it stamps all over a lot of much more expensive, much more recent films.
As for the content, all the horrible things done to the homeless in the film really did happen to real people in the preceding years, and the film did a great deed in documenting them.
It might have been a stronger film if it hadn't gone along with the myth that children are always quiet and cute and people who don't welcome them into their homes with open arms must be right bastards. If children weren't so inclined to be noisy and messy and unpredictable and demanding and expensive then the issue wouldn't be as serious. However, if the film had been less wholeheartedly sympathetic towards poverty-stricken breeders it might not have had the effect on the British public that it did. I guess most people like to see a bit of themselves in sweet, gormless Cathy and Reg. Everybody should see this film. It's important on several levels. But don't see it when you're feeling down and try not to get all bent out of shape, as Limau and I did, by its unequivocally bleeding-heart message.