A Neglected Classic

Guns at Batasi is a surprisingly subtle and subversive blackly comic tale of decolonisation, overlooked in no small part because many critics both then and now just simply didn't spot what it was about. Riven through with observations on race, class, and sexual mores (some perhaps a little too subtle for a modern audience) this is certainly a film with things you'll miss first time around. At the heart of the film is a towering performance from Attenborough as RSM Lauderdale. What makes this so fantastic is the way that Attenborough steers the character between a pastiche martinet, a doubt riddled man with no life outside the army, a brave fool and a figure of fun. As the officers run for cover, the diplomats and the top brass act hypocritically, it's the isolated Lauderdale who becomes the man on the spot. Other characters are given fully rounded parts, a liberal blue stocking MP, rebel officers, not to mention the rest of the squabbling sergeants called upon to rally round as their mess is besieged. What makes this piece so fascinating is the way in which nobody emerges looking good at the end, this is no flag waver, its denoument is hugely ambiguous. There is also no clear villain, everyone has a point and a position that can be understood. Nobody's point of view stands above anyone else's as the correct interpretation of what has happened and nobody voices opinions which are all agreeable, this nicely catches the way that people are far more complex than the simple ciphers for good and bad that most cinema characters are. What really makes this film for me is the way it balances between humour and menace, Attenborough gets some fine daft lines, but the threat of violence is never far away and the audience is kept guessing as to the likely outcome. The symbolism of the film's final moments, especially the expression on Attenborough's face, sums up all the frustrations and abiguities of colonialism and its demise.