The following is commentary on Episode No. 23 ("Lend Your Loving Arms") from members of AFAMILYATWAR-LIST. If you wish to add your thoughts to what is being said on this page, become a part of our discussion group by clicking the "Join" button.
Richard Veit
This is Sheila Ashton’s story all the way, and we see many sides of her personality as she struggles to come to terms with her crumbling marriage. Coral Atkins is splendid throughout, displaying a wide range of emotions.
After months of confusion, forgiveness, and resentment, Sheila finally takes a large psychological step forward, in symbolic defiance of her philandering husband, by resolving to accompany Doris and Freda on a Saturday jaunt to Southport. Making this plunge even more of a watershed decision in her life is the likelihood that David may arrive home on leave at any moment. This time, she figures, it would serve him right to get nothing more than a proverbial “cup of tea.”
En route, the girls become acquainted with three soldiers aboard the train, but Sheila’s temptation still awaits her in Southport itself, in the person of Colin Woodcock. She actively flirts with Colin (“Liverpool can wait for a bit, can’t it?”), something she would never dream of doing if her husband were faithful to her. And yet, even her disappointment in marriage cannot destroy Sheila’s enduring sense of morality. Her innocence is such that she even neglects to remove her wedding ring, much to Colin’s amusement.
After spending the night with him, very innocently, Sheila returns home to Liverpool. There she is confronted by hypocritical David, who, just hours before, had tried to seduce Doris. Armed with the knowledge that she did nothing wrong, Sheila allows David to believe that her morals were compromised. “Tit for tat” is the implication. Her tense scene with David is riveting, one of the most compelling dramatic sequences in the entire series. When he slaps her face, it is utterly convincing, causing me to wonder if Miss Atkins actually was struck during this taping session, perhaps more forcefully than Colin Campbell intended.
Some random comments about “Lend Your Loving Arms”…
The three soldiers whom our girls meet on the train to Ainsdale/Formby/Southport are intriguing character portraits. I think writer Geoffrey Lancashire did a nice job of creating real, individual people, rather than resorting to the serviceman stereotypes that so often mar Hollywood films.
Penty Bartholomew and Freda are very sweet together, and I enjoyed the truthful gentleness of their dialogue. The fishing fly he gives Freda will become a meaningful keepsake for her, turning up again (in Episode No. 33, “The Lucky Ones”) when cousin Tony uses his steady hands to extricate the hook from the tip of her thumb.
I am curious to know whether the train scene was taped on a soundstage with a specially constructed set, or if the interior of an actual railroad coach was used. Nicely staged.
Doris Jackson (Diana Davies) is very funny in this episode. Her description of Charlie Collins on the dance floor is priceless: “Flat footed, with two left feet. Still, his hands make up for his feet. He’s got four of them.”
David’s seething hostility toward Michael Armstrong is well played. It is clear from the instant Michael walks into the room that David wants to have a go at him.
That final scene is almost unbearable in its profound sadness. When Freda reads the telegram, telling of young Robert’s death at sea, at first she cannot even speak, and her face contorts in agonising grief. Barbara Flynn is magnificent here—so honestly conveying a real human emotion. Stage tears are not easily produced, and I strongly suspect that this remarkable scene was shot in a single take. How could any actress, no matter how gifted, have found enough sensitivity within her to do it all over again?
John Finch
The last scene in Episode 23 was added after the script was written.
Richard Veit
Do you mean to say, John, that either you or Geoffrey Lancashire actually wrote this scene while there on the set?
Whatever its provenance may have been, this is perhaps the most powerful scene in the entire series. Barbara Flynn's performance here is utterly heartbreaking, and I very much like the way the scene was blocked by director Les Chatfield: Jean's voice can be heard from afar, asking Freda to shut the door. Freda, meanwhile, already is aware of the telegram's terrible contents when Edwin begins to read it. Very moving indeed.
John Finch
Your query re Robert's death telegram scene: I put this in during the editing process, bringing it forward from the next episode as I thought it was cheating to hold on to it for longer, especially at such a potentially very moving moment. Equally, I wanted to write it myself as I saw it as a brief statement of a reality and not something to be drawn out. The death of Dora in "Sam" came from the same kind of thinking……turning one's back on indulgence.
Richard Veit
I find it most interesting that John Finch brought forward that scene of Freda and the War Office telegram. I think it was an inspired decision on his part, to place it at the end of "Lend Your Loving Arms," thereby giving the audience enough time to fully absorb the terrible reality of that moment. The scene stands in powerful contrast to what has gone before: the rather frivolous daytrip to Southport by the girls.
