Scum (1977, 1979)

Scum (1977, 1979) has the distinction of only a few films in history to have been filmed twice by the same director, here Alan Clarke. Few other flicks given this jump instantly to min, however two notable entries, Hitchcock’s The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934, 1956), and Rodriguez’ El Mariachi (1992), re-made as Desperado (1995) spring to mind. Generally these remakes offer a better budget and a learning curve and stylistically at least, are the better gamble come popcorn time.

This is not the case with the Harvey Keitel movie The Corrupt Lieutenant (Faenza 1983), which Frank has just picked up for $2.00 in a flea market in Burlington, Vermont. Frank had assumed the film was the same as Keitel’s infamous The Bad Lieutenant (Ferrara 1992). Whereas he has thought he bought a Japanese bootleg with a mistranslated title, Frank, popping it into his portable DVD player in his hotel room, was surprised to find the mystery disc actually contained the movie better known as Copkiller, probably re-named to sucker in buyers like Frank thinking they were getting the Ferrara movie at a bargain price. But, Copkiller is an okay flick too, and notably has John Lyndon, a.k.a. Johnny Rotten as the title cop killer.

However, Scum 1977 and 1979 are essentially the same movie and are conveniently packaged together by Blue Underground, available February 28, 2006. The price isn’t bad either at $17.99 on Amazon.com.

Scum ’77 was made by Clarke for the BBC. It is shot on dark, gritty film stock and is fairly low budget; it is a fast unwinding tale of bad boys going badder in a British borstal—reform school, under the watch of cruel guards and wardens. And it features a young Ray Winstone (Sexy Beast, Glazer 2000). However, the BBC found it too graphically violent or perhaps truthful and squashed the film. Though the reform school is shown to be as full of racism, sexual assault and inmates brutally beating each other, as an adult prison, the real expose is of the corrupt, old fashioned system itself, as evident form the first scene to the last.

Knowing he was on to something, by 1979, Clarke had gotten up the production money and re-shot the thing for theatrical release. The result is a film not quite so dark and gritty; it’s shot on better film stock and at a slightly less claustrophobic borstal. The pace is slower too. What happens is, though the plot and 95% of the casting is identical, the film is much more open and better allows the audience to warm up to the characters and even follow the story. Simply put, a better-looking film is always much more palatable to the general audience, no matter what the subject matter is. Also, with out the TV language restrictions, the dialogue in Scum ’79 is much more realistic. After all, what is Ray Winstone without dropping a few F-bombs?

In fact the main noticeable plot difference in the theatrical release is the absence of one particular homo-erotic subplot in which Winstone, having clubbed his way to being the new “Daddy” of the borstal, propositions one of the more comely young boys. In the BBC version, this intrigue seems shoved in more or less just for shock value. In fact, Alan Parker did the same exact thing towards the end of Midnight Express (1978). It’s just a knee-jerk surprise that only distracts from the plot. Perhaps Clarke saw this in the interim and wisely cut it out?

Perhaps also, John Hurt’s character in Midnight Express, was of inspiration to?: The character of Archer, the self styled reform school Jesus, becomes a lot more serene and likeable between the two films and this is not just a reflection of this one major change in casting between the two films. Of course, once again, the overall “breathing room” in both time and space, allotted the audience in Scum ’79 is also big help in exploring Archer’s kindness amongst the rowdy, angry and desperate boys.

Anyway, luckily for Clarke, the magic happened with Scum even a second time around. That doesn’t happen much in life. “Certainly not in love,” Frank muses, “or in movies.”

“Or with vintage electronics” frank groans and kicks the used portable Teac reel-to-reel player that he had picked up at the flea market for $40. She looked like a real beaut, all right. But back in his room he found the two of three heads missing, the wiring frayed and the spindles stuck…