Limehouse blues… Sparrows Can't Sing (1963)

Directed by theatrical legend Joan Littlewood from a play written by Stephen Lewis – Blakey himself
from On the Buses – Sparrows Can’t Sing is a slice of cinema as history showing the East End as it
was in the early sixties as well as the unique collaborative style of cast and crew.

Littlewood had mentored Lewis who had originally been a merchant seaman and encouraged him to
write the play which she directed before transferring to the screen. Many of the original performers
on the boards also took their parts in the film and the warmth and ease of the company is in
evidence throughout.

Barbara Windsor was initially too upset to join the Q&A after the 2015 BFI screening of this
restoration but eventually joined the eternal Murray Melvin to discuss the work of their departed
colleagues including Stephen Lewis who had only passed away the week before. Like so many of the
streets and buildings, even the “new” ones, the actors have now gone leaving this increasingly
precious reminder of their life and times and a part of the world that has changed almost beyond
recognition.

Arthur Mullard (who I used to regularly see in Highbury Fields in the 90s) drives a horse and cart
aided by Bob Grant (also to work with Lewis on those buses). Queenie Watts is essentially herself as
a jazz singing pub landlady, Yootha Joyce is a local chatterbox whilst the man who was to be ‘er
George (Brian Murphy) keeps pigeons round the back of Roy Kinnear’s house. Harry H. Corbett is
even selling groceries from a market stall…

Anyone who was already - or was later to become - anyone was in it! And chief amongst them all are
the dynamite duo of James Booth and Barbara Windsor. Booth has the edge and electricity of a John
Cassavetes only without the method – it’s just something he has. He can’t sit still or simply be –
there’s always an expression on his face and a natural reaction to everything that’s going on around
him all expressed in an instant – a genuine motion. At one point, his character, Charlie, is looking in a
house where he thinks his ex-wife Maggie (Babs) is supposedly now living – he goes from room-to-
room and meets people from different cultures in every room and his reaction is delightful especially
when he encounters a room full of Afro-Caribbeans who offer him a replacement Maggie who he
looks only too grateful to accept.

He’s matched, as he has to be, by Barbara Windor’s Maggie who is every bit as energetic as he and
able to turn on an emotional sixpence. She’s the definition of unpredictability and plays off the men
in her life using her whiles where Charlie may use his fists.

The story plays out like a great American musical as Barbara belts out the theme tune over the
credits. Then we switch to the docks where it’s Booth and Glynn Edwards strolling away from their
ship rather than Sinatra and Gene Kelly: Charlie’s back and it’s been almost two years. But things
didn’t end well last time – “there were murders” – the locals recall, endless fights and grief as Charlie
stepped way out of line.

He’s very much the returning anti-hero and the film takes a picaresque route following his impact on
his former neighbours, friends and family as his appearance looks highly likely to spark some
unhappy reactions all round. Everybody knows, but no one has the courage to tell him. It’s a simple
structure and one that first-time director Littlewood, uses to create a very impressive visual
momentum with a plethora of cherry-picker rising shots that show off these fantastic locations to
full effect.
And, all of the time, the streets are full of people running, hiding, chasing and generally being in a
rush to live their lives. Even Maggie – as we all know – totters about with rhythmic purpose and at
full speed creates quite a scene as she heads towards her re-union…

But before all that, we get to meet the neighbourhood as Charlie renews his acquaintance and
begins his single-minded search to get back with Maggie.

It begins in poignant disappointment as he finds his old house, the one he grew up in, completely
demolished. The pace of change has been relentless and his old manor hasn’t just gone from
memory it has been removed entirely: what will he find to reconnect with?

But what Charlie doesn’t know and everyone wants to stop him knowing is that in his absence,
Maggie has moved in with bus driver Bert (George Sewell ) and has also had a baby of far from
certain parentage…

Brother Fred (Roy Kinnear) tries to hide in the toilet whilst his missus Bridgie (Avis Bunnage) tries to
get a message out to Maggie… what good it will do when he finds out we don’t know…

Elsewhere history is kind of repeating itself as the Gooding’s daughter Nellie (Barbara Ferris) is taking
her own sweet time cho0sing between her foreman Georgie (Murray Melvin) and the more earthy
charms of layabout Chunky (Griffith Davies): George has a shiny mod suit and fancies himself a
singer whilst Chunky is more grounded where he is: if there’s a blade of grass the chew he’ll opt for
that.

Nellie manages to get to Maggie and Bert’s new high-rise flat in spite of the officious interruptions of
the caretaker – Lewis in proto-Blakey mode. Maggie’s calm, dealing with the bloke in the bush rather
than worrying about the one in hand.

Soon Charlie is holed up in The Red Lion with brother Fred under close watch in case he tries to
make a break for it before Maggie is found. After a few hours and many drinks Charlie almost cracks
and the pub looks on in wonder and fear at what mayhem is about to be unleashed but he holds it
in… this time.

Maggie turns up and there’s a nice moment when Charlie smirks and just about prevents himself
from looking round as Maggie enters the Lion and charms hello to all the regulars. Then the tango
begins as the will-they, won’t-they business gets started. After a few rounds – a draw it seems – the
two agree or disagree to meet later…

What happens next? Ah well, that’d be telling…

Dusty verdict: Sparrows Can't Sing is still a joy and recommended to anyone who wants a slice of
contemporary performance from early sixties theatre-cum-cinema. You can almost taste the
atmosphere in streets, pubs and houses: a period so vivid it must still exist somewhere… if not in
Walford perhaps but near by…

The remastered DVD is available from Network direct or from Movie Mail and Amazon. I’ve already
chucked my VHS…