W E I V E R M L I F
GET CARTER Robert Chilcott reviews the re-release of Michael Hodges’ 1971 British ganster classic ALL IMAGES COURTESY WARNER BROS. PICTURES
G
et Carter is 50 this year. Actually the cult British noir classic was released 51 years ago, but certain conditions put paid to celebrations last year. “You’re a big man, but you’re in bad shape” long ago entered the catchphrase cacophony of post-Cool Britannia pull quotes. Kubrick championed it upon release, it made a decent return, but critics’ views were mixed and it largely disappeared from view, until intermittent TV screenings slowly brought it back to life in the late 1980s. Scarcity value is an essential badge of honour for breeding cults. Further groomed in the 1990s by home video release, Britpop’s retro obsessions and endorsements from Tarantino, Guy Ritchie, and, inevitably, Mark Kermode, Get Carter’s status rose meteorically in the pantheon of listicles, labelled as “...the best British post-war gangster film classic ever that you must absolutely 100% see before you get a fatal disease”. Then, after such intangible
plaudits, academia feeds on its carcass, and real cultists switch their attention to the less celebrated Villain, released the same year. “They’re still the same – piss-holes in the snow”. Originally adapted by writer/director Mike Hodges, with Ian Hendry in mind for the lead, producer Michael Klinger had already signed Michael Caine as its star. Hendry suffered with
“During the shooting, Michael Caine remarked, “I had never witnessed misery like this in my own country. It was like Charles Dickens meets Emily Brontë, written by Edgar Wallace” 140
