Having just directed Cliff Richard in 'The Young Ones' (in which Robert Morley had already lamented that youngsters those days routinely carried coshes and flick knives), director Sidney Furie continued to show the potential that would soon find full expression in 'The Ipcress File' adroitly juggling flashbacks and a wide screen crammed with familiar faces like Wilfred Brambell (already playing a seventy year-old) and youngsters like Tony Garnett (who later produced 'Cathy Come Home' with fellow cast member Carol White and died this year aged 83).
Made with the routine excellence of it's time taken for granted by critics of the day, but acclaimed in 2021 by Simon Heffer - of all people - as "not only a magnificent kitchen sink, but one of the finest films of the whole era". At the time the treatment seemed harshly contemporary but today seems charmingly old-fashioned; taking us back to an era when London was still pockmarked with bombsites, Surrey Quays was still called 'Surrey Docks', the local pictures was playing 'Hungry for Love', with Simone Signoret, girls wore beehives, lads shaved with safety razors and wore a jacket and tie for a night out. And the judge wore a black cap to pronounce that the miscreant in the dock was for the Eight O'Clock Walk.
