MAGNET contributing writer Jud Cost is sharing some of the wealth of classic films he’s been lucky enough to see over the past 40 years. Trolling the backwaters of cinema, he has worked up a list of more than 100 titles—from the ’20s through the ’80s—that you may have missed. A new selection, all currently available on DVD, appears every week.
Billy Liar (1963, 98 minutes)
Billy Fisher is having a lie-in this morning, and he’s going to be late for work. Played by a babyfaced Tom Courtenay, Billy is dreaming his life away, trying to forget his humdrum existence—especially his job at Shadrack & Duxbury, funeral directors—in a mid-sized Yorkshire city. His long-suffering mother has asked him to unlock the wardrobe cabinet in his bedroom, where Billy has stashed away 270 Shadrack & Duxbury calendars he was supposed to mail last Christmas.
“Where’s his bloody lordship?” complains Billy’s dad (Wilfred Pickles) over breakfast. “He wants a bloody good hiding! That’d shift him.” Less confrontational, Billy’s mum (Mona Washbourne) replies, “I’ve shouted him three times.” But Billy’s lost in a daydream starring himself as a triumphant Montgomery-like figure who’s just defeated his Rommel in the fictional land of Ambrosia.
Mum’s last shout, “Billy, your egg’s gone stone cold,” finally gets some results. “Good morning, mater. How are you, darling?” says Billy in a plummy accent, as he strolls into the kitchen wearing a monocle. “And you can stop that bloody game,” says dad. “Hey, it’s you I’m talking to, hopeless.” A few more similar exchanges and Billy’s had about enough. As he rapidly swings around, the electric razor he’s borrowed from his dad (without permission) turns into a machine gun, and he mows down the entire family, including grandma. “You’ll have to stop all this making things up,” says his mum patiently as she brews him a fresh pot of tea.
“Must be going-home time if Fisher’s here,” snipes Stamp (George Innes) one of three young clerks employed at Shadrack & Duxbury. “I’ve got that job in London, writing comedy scripts for Danny Boon,” Billy tells his friend, Arthur (Rodney Bewes), the other clerk. “You jammy devil! How much is he paying?” asks Arthur.
As if his life weren’t delusional enough, Billy’s stringing along two girlfriends: the sweet and simple Barbara and Rita, the hardboiled waitress at a local cafe. He’s promised to marry both. On the way to work, Billy spots Liz, a girl he once knew, arriving back in town in the passenger seat of a large lorry. “She goes where she feels like. She’s just crazy,” Billy tells Arthur.
Swinging her purse and skipping along, Liz (the lovely young Julie Christie) shouts, “Doncaster!” to a man behind thick glass who asks where she’s been. “Doncaster? What for?” he hollers. Liz just smiles and shrugs her shoulders. She stops to watch an all-girl pipe band play “Scotland The Brave” as they’re marching down the aisles of a new supermarket. About to cut the ribbon outside, Danny Boon asks the beautiful young girl to give him a hand. When Billy, once again, connects with Liz, he’s convinced that his wildest fantasies are all about to come true—in London.
