Unemployed and disgruntled Ronnie (Robert Buchanan)
hatches a plan to steal ninety sinks as
a means to solving his financial hardship. Recruiting his closest friends,
against the grey backdrop of Glasgow, eight teenagers plan to pull off the
cinematic caper that would define 1979.
Alongside the 60th Anniversary release of Akira
Kurosawa's seminal action masterpiece Seven Samurai, the month of April would
find the BFI with one eye fixed on Japan, and the other on home soil.
With their Flipside label the BFI proudly champions
the rediscovery of British cult films, and the latest film to find itself
inducted into this illustrious catalogue is Bill Forsyth's 1980 caper comedy
That Sinking Feeling.
It is hard to think of two more distinct films finding
themselves on the release slate alongside one another. In spite of being worlds
apart, they share a single similarity, and to the astute eye it is a
singularity that multiplies. That Sinking Feeling and Seven Samurai together
are perhaps a testament to the fact that films, like people, are individuals
but also live within a cinematic or narrative society.
As unmistakably Japanese as is Seven Samurai –
although it would be the seed of inspiration for John Sturges’ The Magnificent
Seven -- Forsyth's Glaswegian crime caper has British cinematic blood coursing
through its veins. It is indelibly a cult British classic,, regardless of whether
or not you’d describe it in that typically English way as your “cup of tea.”
The role That Sinking Feeling plays in the story of
both British and international independent cinema should not be overlooked. Highlighted
in an entry of Kermode Uncut that can be found amongst the extras, Forsyth
discusses how he constructed the film’s budget and how he gathered
non-financial resources that made his debut feature anything but a sinking endeavour.
It positions Forsyth as one of cinema's ingenious independent filmmakers, and
his story allows us to compare the landscape of independent cinema and the
working filmmaker from then to now.
With its shade of social realism through the disenchanted youth, Forsyth and
his cast of characters turn hardship into comedic gold, or at least they
attempt to do so through a caper that more than thirty years on may strike one
as pointless, and even perhaps, as amusing as the film itself. That being said,
with the recent scurrying around for scrap metal and copper that has helped
regional news programmes fill their schedule, That Sinking Feeling may not have
sunk as deeply into the past as one might imagine.
From the outset Forsyth imbues the film with playfulness - the film's title
sinking off-screen to the suggestion of Glasgow as a fictitious place. Add to
that the wry smile that frequents Ronnie’s (Robert Buchanan's) lips and it is
almost as if the film is trying not to laugh along with itself; an infectious
humour that would similarly plague Seinfeld cast members years later.
The fictitious place known as Glasgow is one that
may just intertwine itself with an inner knowing truth that Glasgow is real,
and the grey urban landscape of Forsyth’s debut feature is a reflection that
possesses a certain proportion of truth.
Constructed with a seeming focus on individual moments - the opening monologue,
the science-fiction comedy element and the encounter with a pretentious art
dealer amongst others, That Sinking Feeling is made up of comedy segments that
undermine the fluidity of a narrative gliding towards its destination. Whilst
it does successfully tell the story of a caper, and the forming of a gang, it
decidedly feels as if it is a film of moments that should be appreciated as
Although it is rough around the edges, and it habitually surrenders to the
moment, it should be regarded as both criticism and praise. These faults afford
That Sinking Feeling a vitality that so often can be found in first films where
directors succumb to the moment, a creative energy or instinct. After all, film
is constructed of moments, and the creation of these moments that permits a
film to exude charm and energy is reason enough for celebration.
With a comprehensive set of extras of first-hand accounts, the BFI have pulled
Forsyth's debut out of the shadows cast by Forsyth’s better known and often
more celebrated Gregory's Girl and Local
Hero. That Sinking Feeling may be a
title of introspective truth regarding its own fate.
Whilst the dark confines of the cinema may be the
traditional spiritual experience of the cineaste, to fine connoisseurs of home
entertainment such as the BFI, they are equally a beguiling means towards discovery or rediscovery. If the
truth be told, they possess a greater capacity to take us beyond the film, and
with the restored original Glaswegian audio track and a spate of extras, for
those either not born in 1979 or for those too young to see That Sinking
Feeling on its initial theatrical release, the BFI Flipside release is a
beguiling means of discovery, and for all others re-discovery with it restored
to Forsyth’s original vision.