The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner

Tony Richardson's The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner (1962) is a strikingly subversive film. It made an instant star of Tom Courtenay, and gives perhaps the purest example of the "Angry Young Man" film of the late '50s/early '60s.

Colin Smith (Tom Courtenay) is a twentysomething Britton who winds up at Ruxton Towers, a rigid reform school. Flashbacks reveal Colin's squalid home life: a fractious relationship with his a materialistic mother (Avis Bunnage), an aimless and a petty crime land him in prison. Colin initially butts heads with the school's powers-that-be, but his sporting skills catch the attention of the Governor (Michael Redgrave), who wants him to run in a long-distance with a public school - promising Colin advancement and special treatment if he wins.

British literature, theatre and film of the late '50s were obsessed with the idea of the "Angry Young Man." Applied to playwrights like John Osborne and Harold Pinter, the movement represented the alienated, anti-social, embittered and politically left post-war generation of Brits. Left high-and-dry by Britain's victory in the Second World War, hemmed in by the ever-present class structure and with few prospects of advancement, their rebellion took on a much angrier form than America's "juvenile delinquents."

Based on Alan Sillitoe's short story, Long-Distance Runner is perhaps the most interesting cinematic example. Colin is a wonderfully drawn character, shaped by a hardscrabble home life, but completely lacking in personal ambition or discernable talent, his rebellion is at first formless and undirected. The adults we meet are decidedly negative: the sports-obsessed governor, his well-meaning assistant (Alec McCowen), Colin's mom and a surly detective (Dervis Ward) are a nasty assortment of authority figures, either ineffectual, selfish or cruel. Colin's potential advancement comes at the expense of his fellow students, with former star Stacy (Philip Martin) brushed aside and driven to a breakdown. The ending is the biggest "fuck you" imaginable: Colin would rather ruin his life than let the Governor feel pride in his accomplishment. You don't know whether to cheer Colin's courage or feel depressed at his fate.

Tony Richardson's direction is sublime. Richardson's later "big films" Tom Jones and The Charge of the Light Brigade are better-known today, but he's no less showy or effective here. The film adopts a grungy cinema-verite look, but Richardson provides some extremely striking sequences: the cafeteria riot, the very-modern montage of boys singing a hymn while one of their number is arrested and beaten, and Colin's final flashback. John Addison adds a wonderfully low-key, melancholy score.

Tom Courtenay gives an extraordinary performance, infusing Colin with bitterness, frustration and unfocused rebellion. Courtenay's raw characterization avoids the charm of American rebels like James Dean and Marlon Brando. Michael Redgrave (Nicholas and Alexandra) and Alec McCowan (Frenzy) make the most of thinly-sketched parts, one-dimensional but credible authority figures. Avis Bunnage (Gandhi) is perfectly hateful as Colin's mom. James Fox (A Passage to India) turns up towards the end as Colin's main competition.

The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner is a fine example of the New Wave of British filmmaking, starkly indicting the inequality of post-war England.