Saturday Night and Sunday Morning

							“Saturday Night and Sunday Morning,” (1960) is another black and
white, taut 89 minute, British classic, a raw melodrama. It tells the
story of a rebellious, hard-working, hard-living factory worker gritty
Nottingham, in the North of England, who is trying to juggle
relationships with two women, one of them married to another man, but
pregnant with the protagonist’s child. It was directed by the talented
Karel Reisz(); British novelist/playwright Alan Sillitoe wrote the
screenplay, based on his own semi-autobiographical book.

Its protagonist, Arthur Seaton, played by a young, handsome and forceful
Albert Finney, has long been considered by critics as an exemplary
working class “angry young man” of the 1960s, the decade in which
England would later begin to swing. Up until that time, it had been
rare even for an English film to explore working class life, let alone
show people as unhappy with it, but Sillitoe can certainly be considered
a founding father of the angry young man school of writers. Seaton
works hard all week for a measly paycheck at a mindless job in a dirty
and dangerous factory. Come Saturday night, he likes to go out to the
pub for loud and rowdy fun, accompanied by his girlfriend of the moment,
Brenda, played by the forceful Rachel Roberts (THIS SPORTING LIFE).
Unfortunately, she does happen to be married to one of Seaton’s co-
workers, Jack, played by Bryan Pringle. Then Seaton sets his eyes on
the gorgeous young Doreen, played by the gorgeous young Shirley Anne
Field (HEAR MY SONG, ALFIE). All concerned know Brenda’s day is done;
however, she announces she is pregnant by Seaton, and he agrees to help
her get an abortion. Comic spear carriers Norman Rossington and Colin
Blakely also appear. Johnny Dankworth contributed the memorable jazz
score.

In the British theater, the angry young man revolt was known as
producing “kitchen sink drama.” As movies took up the cry, it was
known as “free cinema,” an attempt by young filmmakers to break away
from the usual suspects. The film was a big hit in its time.

Frankly, I find the whole concept of the “angry young man” dated, but
this film is still remarkably fresh. I find Seaton not nearly angry
enough, nor, unhappily, well-enough educated to know why he should be.
His place of work is deafeningly noisy, almost blindingly smoky; the air
is obviously full of toxins. There is clearly no ventilation or air
conditioning. There seems to be only a dirt floor, on which rats and
cats run. In fact, it’s a perfect example of the kind of factory that
British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, reviled by the working class,
forced to either close or remodel, as it could never compete in the
world market. I should think the working class owes her some gratitude
for that.

Furthermore, Seaton lives with his parents in the classic two up, two
down cottage, outhouse in the rear, hard by the factory, so he, and
everyone else, is breathing its toxins day and night. Critics have long
held that Seaton gives up his rebellion when he agrees with Doreen that
they will buy a new house, with an interior bathroom, in what was then
considered a suburb of the town. I wonder how many film critics of the
time lived without an inside bathroom?

The film’s still fresh, still enlightening, and still worth seeing.