In 1965 the death knells to the kind of censorship found under the Hays Code across the Atlantic were ringing loudly. Though the British industry’s self censorship had never been quite as stringent as that of its Stateside brethren, it still needed to toe the line in order to be marketable to an international audience. At this particular crossroads of change, however, films like Schlesinger’s DARLING began to challenge the imposed puritanism of the previous decades.

The film’s frank dialogue with regard to sex, sexuality and to a more minor degree, sexual politics, won screenwriter Frederic Rafael an Academy award. In a world in which both were still outlawed, DARLING openly discussed homosexuality, and almost as openly portrayed abortion. On the one hand, this could be considered refreshing – but the removed, cynical intellectualism dampens any sense of a strident social critique. Politics are hinted at, flirted with, but never dealt with in any great detail. But is that really such a sin? DARLING is not BILLY LIAR, and although Schlesinger’s foray into British New Wave two years earlier is stylistically evident – black and white footage, vox populi filmed in vérité style and long takes – there is little to no evidence of a working class in this film, or of any interest in one. If Julie Christie and Dirk Bogarde had been speaking French, it would have been quite easy to believe that Jean-Luc Godard’s hand was holding the camera steady; not just for the aesthetic of the film but also for its subject matter.

… an existential turmoil that fails to resonate with the viewer …

Julie Christie’s Diana Scott is reminiscent of Jean-Paul Belmondo’s Michel in A BOUT DE SOUFFLE. Both are amoral lost lambs filled with an existential turmoil that fails to resonate with the viewer in anything more than a superficial way. However, despite the mostly unsympathetic natures of these two characters, you cannot turn away from the spiralling chaos they seem to produce, ambling from one mess to another. For DARLING, this is in some part due to Christie’s pouting and fist-flailing performance, for which she won an Oscar. Christie plays Diana Scott, a beautiful young model of middling fame who is always looking for the next thing, the thing that will make her feel, in her own words, “complete”. One day, she is stopped by a handsome, roving street reporter called Robert (played by Dirk Bogarde)  and the two hit it off. They begin meeting up regularly, and fall in love. The only problem is that both Diana and Robert are already married. However, without so much as a second glance, Diana ditches her cuckolded consort, convinces Robert to do likewise and they set up home together. But it doesn’t take long for dissatisfaction to set in for Diana yet again.

In terms of affability and relatability, Robert is the antithesis to Diana, her mirror self. Calmer and more content, Robert is pushed by Diana towards an almost paternal role, only to resent him for it. Bogarde was not recognised at the Academy Awards in the same way as Christie. In fact, he did not even receive a nomination; but his layered, understated performance as Robert Gold is another large part in what keeps the audience’s attention. At over two hours running time, DARLING is quite a long film for the era and at times its length is felt.

… this alienated emptiness is more clever than it first seems …

DARLING is also a very knowing film, in the sense that it is aware of itself as a construct, and it is not afraid of the audience being aware of it too. This again, is very similar to BREATHLESS and complements Existential ideas of rejecting Bad Faith and self-deception. This Brechtian distance creates an objective observer, which could account for the difficulty in connecting with Diana. And yet this same disconnectivity, this alienated emptiness is more clever than it first seems, for surely this is the same empty, shut-off feeling that epitomises our main protagonist.

DARLING is full of nuance, and feelings towards it change minute to minute for days, if not weeks afterward. It is also a great example of British cinematic innovation. Its form and structure still feel remarkably fresh and exciting some 40 or 50 years on. DARLING is a cautious part of any cinematic rebellion, but whispers of the impending cultural revolution are certainly present.

DARLING was screened at the Arts Picturehouse in association with the Cambridgeshire Film Consortium, and included an introduction by Dr Melvyn Stokes and Dr Matthew Jones as part of a UCL AHRC-funded research project that is collecting memories of cinema-going in the 1960s. To share your own memories, fill out the questionnaire on the UCL website.

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