Four in the Morning

This is a film that I felt really belonged on the stage. It centres around a married couple with a baby and a courting couple. The former - Norman Rodway and Judi Dench are unhappy. She is fed up with being stuck at home all the time with their teething child while he continues to live as if he were a bachelor. The latter - Ann Lynn and Brian Phelan are enjoying the mutual discovery process whilst uncertain as to what the future might bring, if anything at all, to their relationship. Meantime, we know that the police have pulled the body of a young woman from the river Thames. Who might she be? Might she be connected with one of our quartet? Now on the plus side, Judi Dench does deliver convincingly as the frustrated woman struggling with early motherhood whilst her man is off galavanting, and there is also a calming John Barry score to help things along. Aside from that and a few scenes of intensity, though, the rest of this rather meanders along showing us people who are neither interesting nor likeable and there is a surfeit of fairly pointless dialogue that presumes, riskily, that the audience might actually care whether they get/stay together or not. That’s where the theatre might have helped it. The closed confines of a more rigid stage might have intensified the potency of the messages - for messages there are, but here these are very much of the sexual stereotype fashion that fall into rather than break any moulds in British film-making. It’s an almost documentary style observation of their lives that at times breathes vigorously but for the most part it just drags. Sorry.