Here nothing is ever quite what it seems to be. It should come as no surprise
that the hand-carved solid oak entrance to the main building of Pinewood
film studios is actually an extravagantly grand Elizabethan fireplace,
imported seven decades ago from a stately home in Derbyshire. It was set up
on plinths to make room for the doors beneath, which are from the RMS
Mauretania, an ocean liner decommissioned in the 1930s. Pinewood bought the
bulk of its fixtures and fittings at auction.
It was here that Tom Humphries stood sentry, stationed at this opulent facade
throughout the best and busiest years of the studio’s glamorous past, which
is celebrated in a new exhibition of photographs from its heyday. As the
studio’s official commissionaire, Tom was a striking figure in his peaked
cap and braided blue uniform, and even now, at 97, he still commands
attention.
Tom left Pinewood over 30 years ago, taking with him some of the old glory –
these days Pinewood doesn’t even have commissionaires – but he likes to
return every so often for a pint at the bar, where he talked me through his
scrapbook of personally signed photographs of the stars.
Tom greeted them all every morning when they turned up at 8am in their
Bentleys and Rollers to begin work. “Good morning, welcome to Pinewood,” he
would chirp. He knew them all and their foibles, and if he sometimes gets
their names wrong now – Gina Lollybridgedee and Candice Bergner, he said –
he was clearly as sharp as a steak knife back then.
He won them over with his “happy smile” (signed Kirk Douglas) and the
“pleasure” (Rod Steiger) he gave them. He knew who produced a
flop – among them Charles Chaplin, with the film A Countess from Hong Kong;
who was the biggest tipper – Bette Davis, “£25 effing quid”; and who liked
vodka in their dressing room – “Be lucky, Tom, God bless”, wrote Sid
(James). “They were all heavy drinkers, those Carry On people, Kenneth
Williams, the lot of ’em.”
Tom used to drink at the bar sometimes with the pre-dried-out Anthony Hopkins
and was always treated, never had to pay. He got on all right with Bob Hope
and can’t recall the name of the star in the next photo, what’s his name,
oh, who is it? That’s the one! Warren Beatty.
Tom was well in with Liz Taylor, but thought Richard Burton a quiet sort and
noted how Sean Connery always kept himself to himself and never seemed to
drink, or ever prop up the bar.
Ursula Andress was lovely, Julie Andrews too, that Bond girl from 1963 who
signed her photo in German (I think Tom means Daniela Bianchi, whose voice
had to be dubbed for her appearance in From Russia with Love – she was in
fact Italian) but the kindest of all must be “Tom with all my affection,
Sophia Loren”.
One day Tom happened to mention to Loren’s chauffeur that his own car was out
of service. Tom was going to cadge a lift off someone in the bar later, but
Loren would hear none of it: she came and told him personally she would give
him a lift home, even though it meant waiting half an hour until his working
day was complete. Sophia Loren, waiting for him. He can’t remember if it was
a Bentley or a Rolls-Royce, but Tom said he was ready to hop out as they
passed through the main road in Langley, the nearby village where he lived.
“Tom,” Loren said firmly, “I said I’d take you home.” It was a lovely summer’s
evening and the neighbours were out in force. Imagine what they thought. And
there as they pulled up was Tom’s beloved Jessie tending the roses in their
front garden. “I must come over and say hello,” said Sophia. Now that was a
real star for you.
It is nearly 1pm on a weekday in Pinewood in June 2008. “In the old days, come
one o’clock, you could not get to the bar for actors, all having a drink
before lunch. The restaurant would be full.” Today it is all but deserted,
would-be diners perhaps put off by the Ikea-style furnishings that, I am
assured, are soon to be replaced.
Tom escorted Barbara Windsor through the restaurant to the bar on her first
day at Pinewood in 1963 when she arrived to begin her appearances in a
succession of Carry On films. Her first one was Carry on Spying, a Bond
parody, and Windsor was in the role of Daphne Honeybutt. Tom and Barbara
stood on the steps of the busy restaurant and surveyed the scene below.
Gregory Peck was there, Sophia Loren.
It was glittering with stars. Barbara shivered with excitement. Oooh, she
said, isn’t this lovely?
Where do the stars eat now? In their Winnebagos perhaps, their luxurious
mobile dressing rooms. In the week I was at Pinewood there were only two
films in production and a couple of television shows. No pop videos or
commercials that week. Not many stars. I was not permitted to visit either
of the two films. Not Quantum of Solace, the latest James Bond film with
Daniel Craig and Judi Dench. It was out of the question to speak to Daniel,
and Judi was too tired. She was in the sound studio one morning, recording
the voice-over for a computer game. I saw her fleetingly as she disappeared into
the same studio that afternoon to record a commercial for Vodafone. It was
the same story on the set of Pinewood’s other film, The Wolf Man, which will
star Benicio Del Toro and Tom’s old drinking companion, Anthony Hopkins.
Of course, producers want to preserve the secrets of their films until they
are ready to release them. That makes good commercial sense. But years ago
you might stumble across filming as you wandered around. Goldfinger Avenue
had been the location for the famous Aston Martin crash scene from the Bond
film
of that name. At the back of the main building, behind the fireplace, was a
series of french windows that had stood in for the storming of the Iranian
embassy in the film Who Dares Wins. Beyond the building were the gardens
where countless scenes had been filmed, not least the moment in Carry on
Camping when Barbara Windsor had thrust out her chest and her bikini top had
pinged off. Or at least that was the illusion. In reality it had been yanked
by a props man tugging at an invisible fishing line.
Other films such as the 1950s classic Genevieve had used locations just
outside the gates in the narrow lanes and fields of the Buckinghamshire
countryside that looked, for the time being, much as they always had: a
timeless evocation of the English rural idyll.
The private home Heatherden Hall had been owned by various swells including a
Canadian financier, Grant Morden, who became MP for Brentford and an Indian
maharajah, K S Ranjitsinhji, who played test cricket for England. The vision
of the 100-acre site as a film studios belonged first to a building
entrepreneur, Charles Boot, who based his plans on a visit to the new
kingdom of Hollywood in California. Boot soon found a colleague who shared
his vision – Joseph Arthur Rank – and Pinewood was officially opened as a
studio in 1936.
Rank came to dominate the UK film industry, and one of his early writers was
Peter Rogers, who helped define Pinewood as the producer of the Carry On
films, alongside his wife, Betty Box, who worked independently from him to
produce a number of Pinewood classics including the Doctor series. For years
Rogers went to work every day in a chauffeur-driven red Rolls-Royce. He is
now 94 and in his 55th year at Pinewood. He continues to turn up at the
office daily – driven by his carer in a Vauxhall – where he is still
developing a new Carry On (Carry on Percy, he hopes it will be called), to
begin filming as soon as he can get the money together.
Since 2000 a new team has taken ownership of the studios, led by Michael Grade
and Ivan Dunleavy, whose company now owns the studios at Shepperton and
Teddington too.
They began buying up land surrounding the site and announced Project Pinewood,
an elaborate, ambitious scheme to double the size of Pinewood. The project
has its work cut out persuading local residents and planning authorities of
the benefit of developing 100 acres of prime home-counties green-belt land.
Though Pinewood must also be canny enough to know that the government is
actively looking for new housing projects to relieve London. The project
hopes to create a unique mix of backlots for filming and residential homes
for studio workers.
Dunleavy has not even submitted a planning application yet – he expects to
present something to South Bucks district council before the end of the year
– but the resistance movement has already been formed. It is shaping up like
a film plot, though not so much Pinewood, perhaps, as Ealing, famous for its
comedies of English manners and habits. One village, Fulmer, has held some
heated protest meetings. Other locals think Fulmer has jumped the gun and
should have waited until an application was submitted.
Ronnie Lamb, chair of Fulmer parish council, told me there was no time to
lose. Much as they loved having such a big player in the film industry on
their doorstep, they were very unhappy about the housing that will be part
of the development. Pinewood is talking about at least 2,000 homes – the
equivalent of another Gerrards Cross. There was already one Gerrards Cross
nearby and they didn’t need a second. At a recent meeting, Lamb and others
had become frustrated with, and suspicious of, Dunleavy’s inability to
answer specific questions. It was hard to believe Pinewood had not looked at
the issues. The villagers feared being railroaded. “Pinewood has the ear of
government and opinion-makers,” said Lamb, “and we are just a little parish
with no clout.”
A wealthy parish, however, and no pushover.
Bill Lidgate was one of the South Bucks district councillors, and he could see
all kinds of problems arising. Would there be families with children, and,
if so, where would the little ones be educated? What about sewage? Where
would they put the wheelie bins? “We’re dealing here with people who peddle
illusion,” said Lidgate, “but we are dealing in reality, and they are
frightening the life out of local people.”
Dunleavy had already made some significant changes at Pinewood to encourage
new business. But this is the movies, where nothing is ever quite what it
seems. No wonder the local villagers didn’t trust the executives.
A short walk from the Foley room was the Paddock water tank – the biggest of
its kind in Europe – with its vast blue screen that you could see from a
plane landing at Heathrow. Richard Curtis had recently been here filming The
Boat That Rocked, about Radio Caroline. Next to the Paddock was another
pioneering facility, the indoor water tank, where they could give you one of
the greatest illusions of all, known as wet for dry – the appearance of
weightlessness, zero gravity, as if you were floating on air, whereas in
fact you were floating in the water. A recent advert had re-created a Paris
apartment at the bottom of the tank, a woman reading a magazine, drinking
coffee, then standing and drifting away.
The water had to be exceptionally clean to make this effective, and you
couldn’t give the actors red eye, so chlorine was out, and instead they
cycled the water every three hours through sand and ultraviolet lamps. A
hundred naked people had been in that tank the other day for a face-cream
advert. Keira Knightley had retrieved a broken vase from it for Atonement;
Sharon Stone had escaped from it in Basic Instinct 2, after plunging into
the Thames in her car while having some form of sex with her unlikely co-star,
the ex-footballer Stan Collymore. Happily, only Collymore drowned. Though not
really, of course, as it was only a movie.
Capturing Film History in the Making, an exhibition showcasing photographs
from Getty Images, and Pinewood’s archives, opens at Getty Images
Gallery in London next Friday
As time goes by
1930s The property tycoon Charles Boot buys Heatherden Hall estate,
where he builds Pinewood Studios. He takes on a partner, the Methodist
millionaire J Arthur Rank. Films such as Carol Reed’s Talk of the Devil are
made.
1940s Pinewood is dragooned into the war effort as a storage centre.
Later, classics such as Great Expectations and Oliver Twist cannot stop the
studios sliding into £1.5m of debt. Budgets are slashed.
1950s Commercial television cuts cinema audiences. Pinewood responds
with cheap but popular comedies for the big screen. Doctor in the House
boosts British attendance figures and Carry on Nurse is a hit with the
Americans.
1960s James Bond saves the UK film industry. The franchise starts with
Dr No. Other Bond movies follow, including From Russia with Love in 1963 and
You Only Live Twice in 1967.
1970s J Arthur Rank dies. The weak economy causes further gloom, but Superman
flies in to save the day in 1978.
1980s Fire breaks out on the stage where Ridley Scott’s Legend is
being filmed. The vast stage, originally created for the Bond film The Spy
Who Loved Me, was rebuilt and named the Albert R Broccoli 007 Stage, in
honour of the brains behind the franchise.
1990s The studio oversees the production of films such as Mission:
Impossible, The Fifth Element and The World Is Not Enough.
2000s The Rank Group plc sells the company for £62m to investors led by
the media moguls Michael Grade and Ivan Dunleavy. Pinewood merges with
Shepperton and later Teddington Studios. Another fire breaks out at the 007
Stage, while the set of Casino Royale is being dismantled after filming. But
Bond recovers, and once again averts disaster.
