These words were spoken by Mel Gibson‘s Fletcher Christian as he led a mutiny against Anthony Hopkins‘ Captain Bligh in Roger Donaldson‘s The Bounty (’84). They were also silently muttered to myself as I trudged through mobs of St. Patrick’s Day revelers today at the Farmer’s Market and The Grove. For some reason I can walk amongst tens of thousands on the streets of Manhattan or London or Paris or Dublin and not blink an eye, but outdoor shopping mall crowds are different. Not a pestilence but certainly worth avoiding if at all possible.

They’re too plentiful, for one thing. Shuffling along at even slower rates than usual and obstructing anyone trying to stride around with any sense of purpose. They walk around like 85 year-olds (it’s called the “mall meander”) and are always stopping for gelato and or congregating in groups of four or five or six as they wait to get into the Cheesecake Factory. Plus St. Paddy’s is a day of drink and that means a lot of noise and giggling and live bands (some even attempting to play a semblance of traditional Irish music) that no one’s listening to. I learned a long time ago when I was a New Yorker to stay indoors in St. Patrick’s Day — too many drunks. Now I know it’s the same here. I’ll never go St. Paddy-ing in Los Angeles ever again.

On June 4th Kino Video will release a Bluray of Alan Clarke‘s Scum (’79), a violent, survival-of-the-most-brutal drama set inside a British borstal. It starred a very young and intense Ray Winstone — his big breakout role — along with his Quadrophenia costar Phil Daniels. There was a gritty realism thing happening in British films at the time, and Scum was one of the stand-outs. It’s an absolute must-see still.

Clarke made two Scum films — a 1977 TV version made for BBC’s Play for Today that was withdrawn from broadcast due to violence. Two years later Clarke and screenwriter Roy Minton remade it as an even more violent feature. British DVDs of both are apparently purchasable (or were purchasable) but the Bluray is presumably the thing to have.

For whatever reason the Kino Video notes state that Scum‘s running time is 78 minutes while the IMDB gives a running time of 98 minutes. A typo, I’m guessing.

Scum opened in 1980 in New York. I attended the premiere (which happened at some downtown theatre, possible the Eighth Street Playhouse) and then the after-party with my beautiful girlfriend, Kathi Jo, and her fetching best friend. I met Winstone at the party, and right away he asked if I was in the mood to share. “Not the blonde,” I said. “She’s with me but her friend, sure, I guess…go for it.” Smiling Ray liked that response — “Gee, thanks, Jeff!” (Except he pronounced it “Jayff.”) Winstone got distracted by something or someone else and never came over to talk. That night Kathi Jo and her friend and I went back to her place and got into a three-way although not the hot guy-fantasy kind with the women doing each other. It was basically a double-scoop ice cream sundae for me — unforgettable.

20 years later I ran into Winstone at Toronto’s Park Hyatt. This was a day or two after Sexy Beast had opened. Anyway he was with two or three others but we locked eyes and he remembered right away — “Hello, Jayff!”

From the Scum Wiki page: “It was later released on DVD in the UK by Odyssey and Prism Leisure. It was the digitally remastered uncut version but in fullscreen, with only a trailer and an interview as bonus features. In the US an Alan Clarke boxset was issued that included several films, among them both the BBC original and cinema version of the film plus audio commentaries.

“Prism Leisure released a limited edition 2-disc set in the UK on June 13, 2005. Disc One featured the BBC version with an audio commentary and two interviews. Disc Two instead featured the theatrical remake with an audio commentary, several interviews and featurettes and two trailers. It was digitally remastered from a widescreen print. A Region 0 DVD — similar to that in the Alan Clarke boxset, but this time available separately from other Clarke films — followed in the US, released by Blue Underground.”

Here’s a well-written review of the double package by Digitally Obsessed.

Clarke died at age 54 in 1990.

Fox Home Video’s forthcoming Bluray of Sidney Lumet‘s The Verdict (May 7th) is way overdue. A near-classic. Great perfs from Newman, Mason, Warden, Rampling. But the greatest value is Andrzej Bartkowiak‘s cinematography. Those inky blacks, streams of sunlight, gentle ambers, bluish morning grays. A little prettier than The Friends of Eddie Coyle, but Boston through and through.

“So Pat says, he says, ‘They got this new bar…and you go inside and for half a buck you get a beer, a free lunch and they take you in the back room and they get you laid’ Mike says, ‘Now wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute. Do you mean to say there’s a new bar and you go inside and for a half a buck they give you a beer, a free lunch and they take you in the back room and they get you laid?’ Pat says, ‘That’s right.’ ‘Have you ever been in the bar?’ And Pat says, ‘No, but me sister has.'”