(ambient music)
(peppy orchestral music)
- [Colin] Would you say that your technique
has changed essentially, say, since 1932?
- I don't think so, no.
I think, you know, the cobbler should stick to his last.
Know your own limitations.
I've become a specialist.
People expect it, you know.
If I did a story or, say, a musical about Cinderella,
they would be waiting for the body to turn up.
If my name were on the picture.
You know the audiences are still looking for the body.
(Colin laughs)
(spooky orchestral music)
- [Colin] Most of your films have had a sort of strong dose
of peril in them for the characters.
Why have you made this your speciality right
from the very beginning, I believe, isn't it?
- I think it's probably
because I'm very nervous fellow, you know.
We all have fear, you know,
in us and we like to enjoy a vicarious,
shall we say, toe in the water of fear.
I think audiences like to feel a little touch of fear.
After all they go on a roller coaster and scream.
They are very near the dangerous point.
If a roller coaster didn't take that curve so easily
and went right over the top that would be the end of that.
You know I once made the error of putting suspense
into a picture and not relieving it.
I did a picture called Saboteur, Sabotage,
I beg your pardon, and I had a small boy carrying a bomb
across London.
I built up the time element of when the bomb was
to go off and I even went past the time when the bomb
should go off.
Eventually I let the bomb go off two minutes
after it should've gone off and blew the boy
and everybody else to bits,
and this was a horrifying experience especially
for women in the audience.
I was never forgiven for it.
- [Colin] You mentioned the relieving the suspense
and I think one of the marks of your films
is the wry touches of humor that you inject to relieve the--
- Well, yes, I believe, you know, after all there's humor
in a graveyard.
Why not?
Which reminds me of a story, I think it
was a famous comedian, Harry Tate,
English comedian died, and was being buried.
At the graveside were all his fellow comedians,
including one very old man named Charles Coburn.
A rather brash young comedian, just as the coffin
was being lowered into the grave, leaned over to him
and said, how old are you Charlie?
And this old, old comedian said, oh, he said, I'm 89.
The young one said, hardly seems worthwhile going home,
does it?
(Colin and Alfred laughing)
I think the British have a sense of humor,
especially about the macabre.
I think a lot of people, you know, object to playing around
with bodies and so forth.
But actually I don't think it really matters, you know,
and sometimes people can't help, especially certain types
of English people, can't help but make a joke.
Whether it's for their own relief or what.
I remember at a fairground once outside London
there was a sideshow going on in a tent where a man
was biting the heads from live rats,
and there were two women, blousy sort of women
at the back of the tent, watching this scene
with fascination but with clenched teeth and horror.
But one of them couldn't help make a joke,
she had to call out, she said,
don't you want any bread with it?
(Colin laughing)
- [Colin] You haven't put that in any of your films yet?
- Not yet, no, there's room for it.
(Colin laughing)
(suspenseful orchestral music)
- [Colin] How many films in all have you made sir?
- [Alfred] I wouldn't know, maybe 40 or 50.
I never look back.
You know I think it's a mistake to look back,
you always have to look forward otherwise you're liable
to get old get fashioned or something.
- [Colin] Yes.