Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Yield To The Night
I recently watched the classic Diana Dors movie Yield To The Night from 1956 about the final days of a murderess pending her execution. The film has dated very well and Dors' performance was seriously impressive. I always remember back in primary school in the mid-Seventies that schoolgirls used to sing a rhyme about the actress that went "I'm Diana Dors and I'm a movie star! I've the hips, I've got the lips, I've got the legs of a star!"
So interesting in hindsight that her acclaim had left that social imprint for so long in light of the downwards trajectory of her career to the dark depths of Swedish Hellcats, The Amorous Milkman, Adventures of a Taxi Driver, Keep It Up Downstairs, What The Swedish Butler Saw and The Confessions of the David Galaxy Affair by the Seventies. The Smiths used a picture of Dors from this very feature on the front of one of their singles compilations.
The film ends with Dors and the prison clergyman walking to the connecting door from the condemned cell to the execution chamber - Dors' character being conscious all along that it was unlikely to be the door to the broom cupboard. This is not unlike the feelings so many middle-aged Britons now have as they look ahead to their remaining years of work and then to some dread half-existence as a pensioner - a total surety that fate is unlikely to be kind if current lifestyle logistics are anything to go by in a society fuelled by The X Factor, mobile phones and cheap supermarket lager.
Hence the toxic labour markets completely disfigured by wage stagnation and internships, a property market scam underpinned by property mega-inflation and the buy-to-let fiasco, a generational apartheid regarding life expectations that is historically unparalleled in scope and a mainstream media not willing to interject a solitary question mark as to where our country is heading.
Time and life security variables alike are indeed weighing heavier than ever now on millions of hard working Britons and where it is hard to disengage oneself from the belief that our own government and political class - to paraphrase Peter Brooke's words which commenced the Northern Ireland peace process in the Nineties - has no "selfish, strategic or economic" interest whatsoever anymore in the entire future of the British people on these islands.