His Own Executioner

The Small Back Room is one of my favourite films, and highly prized by many, many others. But that’s mainly for the fact that it was made by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger during their most fertile, productive decade: the 1940s. Less attention is paid to man who wrote the novel on which the film was based: Nigel Balchin.

And that’s a shame, because when he was at his best – The Small Back Room, Mine Own Executioner, Sundry Creditors – he had a talent for nimble narratives and acute observation in novels that rarely exceeded 200 pages. (A talent that seems to be lost today.)

But the cost. From bestsellers in the 40s, to a highly profitable – if mostly forgettable – run in Hollywood in the 50s, to a dimming of inspiration, alcoholism and death at the age of 61 in the 60s. Reading this biography makes you appreciate the books – and a couple of films* – he left behind, but it also makes you want to reach out, take the bottle away and offer some words of advice and comfort.

Because it seems to me that everything he did that was good he did before he became a success and took the beguiling hand of Hollywood. He made it to the top of the mountain, only to find a long, cold way down waiting for him on the far side. 

But at least we still have the books - although you may have to hunt a little to find them all. And the films. And this rather excellent biography.

* Mandy (1952 and The Man Who Never Was (1956).