The British Elvis Presley: Reviewing Indicator’s ‘Cliff In Color!’ Box Set

Musicals have never claimed to be that entrenched in reality but that doesn’t make the opening moments of Sidney J. Furie’s The Young Ones (1961) any less bonkers. The scene: a construction site on top of a city building. What doesn’t belong in that scene: a guy (Teddy Green) in a bright red shirt and cowboy boots who wants us to believe he’s been working alongside these men when they can’t even be bothered to leave together. All of the guys are walking towards the back of the building to climb down, and only the red shirt is walking in the opposite direction.

Before this gets passed off as a fluke, Peter Yates’ Summer Holiday (1963) begins in a similar fashion, except red shirt’s not alone this time. Cliff Richard‘s Don is there, too. He and his friends are allegedly car mechanics yet somehow they’re being provided with a London bus and two weeks’ vacation time to take a holiday. It would’ve made more sense and been easier to just give them jobs in entertainment, and yet there’s this insistence on trying to portray them as working class and at home in a factory setting.

It all doesn’t matter because what these films have in plot is very simple in nature. Take The Young Ones. In a commentary that was recorded in 2002 (which I only mention because I wrongly assumed it was recorded for this release until Furie started naming films of his that hadn’t come out on DVD, and now many of them are on Blu-ray) Furie mentions that the assignment was to make a British MGM musical, and that’s very much what he delivered. Especially with regards to the color scheme, it’s that artificial, retro color block look that is so infectious and joyful.

All three of the musicals in this box set star Richard (hence the title Cliff in Color!, though Summer Holiday tries to pull off a misdirect by starting in black-and-white until Richard appears to bring the color with him). If his name might not ring bells in America, don’t be mistaken — Richard was huge in the UK, the biggest name before The Beatles hit the scene in 1963. With a voice that will draw comparisons to Elvis Presley (in fact, another insight gleaned from Furie’s commentary for The Young Ones: Sid Tepper and Roy C. Bennett who wrote on a lot of Presley movies also wrote the titular earworm song, “The Young Ones,” making the sound comparisons even more pointed), there’s no question Richard can sing but he’s more of a mover than a dancer. At times, it feels like the films are working around him, allowing Richard to occasionally disappear during group numbers.

Whereas Herbert Ross (Funny Lady) was the choreographer on The Young Ones and Summer Holiday, Gillian Lynne (Cats) took over for Furie’s Wonderful Life (1964), and as focus puller, Robin Vidgeon, brings up in one of his two new interviews for this box set, that’s the one film where Richard steps up in the dancing department. In fact, the best number in Wonderful Life is more dance-heavy than singing: “All Kinds of People,” in which the great Una Stubbs (Worzel Gummidge), who appears in two of these movies, gets to show off how beautiful a dancer she was on top of doing comedy.

In an excellent visual essay, Furie biographer Daniel Kremer compares the number to one of the dance sequences in Jacques Demy‘s Young Girls of Rochefort, and he’s not off base. Now, Kremer also argues that Wonderful Life is better than The Young Ones, and on that point I’ll disagree, but he goes over some of the themes in Furie’s movies (one of which is well represented by the song “Youth and Experience” that ends Wonderful Life) and also stumps for another Furie film that could use a Blu-ray — Global Heresy, starring Peter O’Toole and Joan Plowright.

Unlike in Summer Holiday, where the songs propel the plot, The Young Ones and Wonderful Life have more standalone pop songs. The Young Ones and Wonderful Life are also the “put on a show,” backstage musicals in the style of Andy Rooney and Judy Garland‘s early films. In The Young Ones, Richard’s Nick is helping his friends put on a show to raise money to save their youth club, while in Wonderful Life, they’re trying to make a movie on the sly.

Besides Lauri Peters’ Barbara from Summer Holiday (who at least gets to throw Richard’s words in his face during the number “A Swingin’ Affair” before caving to his “charms”), the female characters in these films aren’t given much to do. All the relationships (platonic and romantic) are underdeveloped and taken for granted.

There’s no denying the production value of these films. There are standout numbers in each, like “Nothing’s Impossible” in The Youngs Ones, which is staged very true to the lyrics and delivers movie magic, but all three musicals are too long for how frivolous and lightweight they are and might’ve avoided overstaying their welcome with some edits.

In addition to the bonus features already mentioned, Indicator’s box set carries over the director commentaries that were recorded in 2002 for an Anchor Bay DVD collection of Richard’s films. There are also interviews with authors Neil Brand and Bob Stanley on Richard, a short film featuring Richard’s band, The Shadows, that’s reminiscent of the overly long  “We Love A Movie” montage in Wonderful Life or the superior silent film homage to “Orlando’s Mime” in Summer Holiday, and a booklet with a new essay by journalist Steve O’Brien.

Cliff in Color!: The Technicolor Musicals of Cliff Richard, 1961 – 1964 is available on Blu-ray in the US starting February 17th.