(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.