The theme is the unsung heroes of World War II, the "backroom boys", gradually coming into their own.[4]
Plot
Sammy Rice is a British scientist in a London "back room" team evaluating new weapons during the Second World War. Their work is constantly frustrated by bureaucrats and poor management.
Disabled and in constant pain from his prosthetic leg, he is drowning in self-pity and feels unworthy of his girlfriend Susan. A secretary in his department, she puts up with his temper and self-destructive behaviour in hopes she can help him past his woes. Staying away from whisky is key.
Rice, who has a past background in bomb disposal, is drawn by a Captain Stuart into a hushed assignment probing the secrets of a new Nazi booby trap device. Progress is slow.
In the middle of both bureaucratic and political turmoil impacting their section, Susan urges him to be more assertive at his job, which he takes badly and goes on a flat-smashing drunk. She leaves him.
Still soused, Rice receives a call from Stuart informing him that two intact devices have been discovered on Britain’s Channel coast.
En route there he learns Stuart has died attempting to defuse the first. Before tackling the second, Rice listens to a transcript of comments Stuart made during the disarming process. In a harrowing effort he discovers that the device has two booby traps and successfully disarms both.
Rice returns to London with his reputation enhanced and self-esteem restored. Susan is on the job, and direct him to an urgent meeting with an army colonel whom he had previously supported during a contentious hearing over an experimental artillery gun the officer had opposed. Rice is offered the opportunity to head the Army's own new scientific research unit, complete with a commission as a major. He accepts.
Returning to his flat he finds the damage he had done to it repaired, and Susan waiting for him there.
In his autobiography, A Life in Movies, Michael Powell acknowledged the influence of German expressionist films such as Nosferatu (1922) in leading him towards making films such as The Red Shoes, Tales of Hoffmann (1951) and The Small Back Room.[6]
Reception
Box office
As of 30 June 1949 the film earned £129,700 (equivalent to £4.96 million or US$6.17 million in 2023)[7] in the UK of which £84,073 went to the producer.[1]
Critical
The Monthly Film Bulletin wrote: "It is ably produced, and the direction, with one or two lapses, is extremely efficient. The lapse which it is most hard to forgive is that into surrealistic camerawork illustrating Rice's internal struggle with himself when, with his morale at its lowest ebb, he thirsts to open a bottle of whisky. Apart from this, it is an excellent entertainment and there are some very neat cameos of the minor frustrations of the back-room boys' travails. David Farrar turns in a convincing performance as Sammy Rice and has one believing in the reality of his game foot. Kathleen Byron is a moving and long-suffering – perhaps rather too long-suffering – Susan, and there are some good portrayals by Leslie Banks, Jack Hawkins and Cyril Cusack."[8]
Variety said that although the film lacked "the production tricks usually associated with" Powell and Pressburger it was nevertheless "a craftsmanlike job". It praised the performance of David Farrar as "his best role", and lauded the careful casting of the "lesser roles."[4]
In British Sound Films: The Studio Years 1928–1959David Quinlan rated the film as "good", writing in 1984: "Moving study of human nature, with tense climax."[9]
Leslie Halliwell wrote in 1989: "Rather gloomy suspense thriller with ineffective personal aspects but well-made location sequences and a fascinating background of boffins at work in post-war London."[10]
The Radio Times Guide to Films gave the film 3/5 stars, writing in 2017: "After the sumptuous theatrics of Black Narcissus (1947) and The Red Shoes (1948), Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger returned to the muted naturalism of their earlier collaborations for this adaptation of Nigel Balchin's novel about scientists feeling the strain in wartime. The pair were obviously uninspired by the lengthy passages of chat in which the backroom boffins bicker about their latest inventions, but their masterful use of camera angles and cutting gives the finale an unbearable tension."[11]
Accolades
The Small Back Room was nominated for a 1950 BAFTA Award as "Best British Film".[12]
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