HOLLYWOOD COMES TO TOWN
By Melv Henighan
Hollywood comes to Barnsley? Well not quite, but that’s how it felt when I found out that a little-known film director was about to make a movie based on the novel, A Kestrel for a Knave - written by our English teacher, Barry Hines.
The story is about Billy Casper, bullied at home and school, who finds solace when he steals a kestrel chick, rears it and trains it.
One of the most exciting things at the time was hearing that some of the cast were to be picked from the students at my school, Longcar Central.
On the bus into town one day I ask my best mate, Ian Douglas, about it:
“Ey up, Ian. What do you think about this film they’re going to make about Mr Hines’ new book?”
“What film?”
They’re making this film and they’re looking for actors.”
“Actors? So what?”
“So what? This film director doesn’t want professional actors, he wants ordinary kids like us.”
“Gerraway! People like us act in school plays, not proper films.”
“They’re saying that Mick Padgett and Rob Naylor have already got parts.”
“Really? Hmmm, let me think. Being a film star would be better than working down the pit,” replies Ian, staring out of the bus window. “I can just see myself like Noel Coward, wearing a cravat and singing: ‘I’m in the mood for love, simply because you’re near me’. I’ll not need to change my name either. ‘Douglas’ is already a famous Hollywood name, so I’ll just alter my Christian name to something like... Tarquin.”
“Tarquin!” I repeat, laughing. “Oh, you’re just taking the mickey, now.”
We get off the bus at the Threepenny Bit kiosk in the bus station, and walking to school we meet up with Steve Carrol (Cazzie).
Ian says: “Ey up, Cazzie. Melv tells me they’re recruiting young actors for a new film.”
“I know. Thought everyone knew. I’ve just been head-hunted for the leading part.”
Ian, with eyes agog, splutters, “What? You’ve got the leading part? Really?”
“Nope, just teasing. But I wouldn’t say no.”
In the school playground the word has already got round that Mick Padgett, Mick Joyce, Glyn Bowser and others have been invited for an audition.
I approach Mick. “What’s all this I hear about actors being needed for a film?”
“Sorry, Melv, but the word on the street is they’re only hand-picking youngsters from our school year, not yours.”
Later in the day, when I have this confirmed by Mick Joyce, Glyn Bowser and Rob Naylor, it makes me incredibly envious and downcast. But, hey ho, fame by association, I suppose, is better than nothing.
When the finished film hits the cinemas two years later, one of the best scenes includes Mick Padgett and our history teacher, Brian Glover. Mr Glover acts as games master, rule-maker, referee, wannabee Bobby Charlton and unapologetic cheat - determined to win at all costs.
Billy Casper, the hero, gets into bother for dangling upside down from the crossbar of the goals.
Every school has a pupil like Billy. Someone who’s picked on. Someone who wished they could become invisible and get through the day unscathed. Someone who is always going to be last.
And so it was when it came to picking the football teams: good players picked first, Billy reluctantly picked last – just another piece of humiliation in the jigsaw of life.
We all know a Billy Casper. We just hope we never become one.
This film is not Hollywood, where the good guys always win. It’s true to life and far better.
