So long as you've got one good eye, the other one is just back-up.
— Douglas Slocombe
I remember taking photographs as the local Gauleiter, Albert Forster, harangued huge crowds of Germans in the evenings with a big swastika flag in the background.
It's a weird feeling to have outlived virtually everyone you ever worked with.
The Eyemo was heavy and could be noisy. Once, I was in an auditorium filming a speech made by Goebbels when, suddenly, it decided to emit a huge snarling sound. Goebbels froze, and hundreds of uniformed Brownshirts turned and glared at me in anger. It was not a comfortable moment.
I had fallen in love with photography and was making a living doing photographic features for publications such as 'Picture Post,' 'Paris Match' and 'Life' magazine. But in 1939, I saw a huge headline, which I think was in the 'Sunday Express.' It said, 'Danzig - Danger Point of Europe.' I packed up my Leica, got on a train, and went.
If you want to know what London looked like in 1947, with all the bomb-sites, 'Hue and Cry' will tell you. And when I shot 'The Lavender Hill Mob' four years later, it didn't look that different.
I found myself right in the middle of an absolute hotbed of Nazi intrigue. All the Jewish shops had 'Jude' daubed over the windows, and the Jews themselves were attacked.
As a rule, Michael Balcon was at great pains to ensure Ealing remained very British. There was no point our trying to be MGM, and we didn't see a lot of American stars.
I've long been an admirer of Philip French's way of writing as well as his knowledge of films. He was one of the few critics to be aware, and make audiences aware, of the work of people on a film set other than the director.
