(trumpet), C. J. Partridge (trombone), T. E. H. Sabben-Clare (guitar), and D. T. Sparham (banjo), gave a lively performance on the last Sunday of term in Big Hall. A large and enthusiastic audience greeted their programme, ably compered by M. L. Bywater, and several encores were demanded and granted. Particular mention may be made of Baines's dexterous handling of his clarinet, whether he was playing it "straight" or producing the characteristic "blue" notes of jazz, and of Partridge, whose trombone was always in tune, never blatant, and often apt in its comments on the theme under development. In between the jazz items, K. Brown produced a recorded programme of Gilbert and Sullivan, but this normally popular form of entertainment was overpowered by the stronger flavours and brighter colours of the live music on the stage. F.W.
THE FILM SOCIETY This last session has been the most successful of any in my time; everything has combined to make it so; seeing and hearing is now comparable with commercial standards; the films have been of a consistently high quality and where their appeal has not been of an obvious sort, they have been different and, I believe, to many, interesting. This last remark, of course, applies to the Spanish film "Marcelino". Some people feel a little uncomfortable when the miraculous is presented for serious study, but at least it was serious, and sentimental heavenly choirs were conspicuously absent. On a more mundane level, the dark shadows and the bright light of Spain were brilliantly exploited; there was also a conscious effort to reproduce the groupings of some of the old Spanish Masters—Ribera in particular—and Pablito Calvo gave the high class performance that we have come to expect from children featured in films. By coincidence, there was another noteworthy child performance, in another of the term's films, by Bobby Henrey in "Fallen Idol". Good though he was, however, this picture of tragic events in London's embassy-land in Belgrave Square was very much a director's picture. Carol Reed's films always are; sometimes they border on virtuosity and lack heart, but I would rate this one very high—easily his best. "Race for Life" was a faithful reproduction of the story of how a serum was brought to a stricken trawler in the North Sea; international relationships were shown at their Utopian best and the leisurely pace of this French film might well be counted as a virtue by those who are sated with the more contrived excitements of the ordinary run of films. "No Highway" came nearest to this last category, perhaps, of the films shown this term. The actual trans-Atlantic flight was very 41
