Poor Cow is the feature film debut of director Ken Loach, a hugely prolific British filmmaker with decidedly left-wing tendencies. It's based on a novel by Nell Dunn, whose Up the Junction he previously adapted for a television, and although it lacks the focus of Loach's later films, it's an early example of his predilection for social realism, with domestic violence, prostitution, and armed robbery.
Carol White (who worked with Loach on Cathy Come Home) stars as Joy, whilst real-life criminal-turned-actor (and later allegedly back to criminal) John Bindon plays her abusive husband Tom. Terence Stamp plays her subsequent lover Dave, a sensitive partner who nevertheless goes to jail after leading a robbery that involves assaulting an old lady and leaving her blind. It's all quite gritty stuff, although like Loach's television adaptation of 'Up the Junction' for the BBC, it reflects writer Dunn's observational style, which documents without judging, condemning or pitying. The film holds up a mirror to the Swinging Sixties (a fact perhaps deliberately acknowledge by the contemporary pop soundtrack), showing the darker side of a celebrated era, with its working class council estate drudgery. The scene of Joy and her friend being photographed by a group of sweaty men is convincingly seedy, although on the other hand Joy clearly wants to enjoy her sexual freedom, seemingly comfortable with her profitable, promiscuous lifestyle whilst Dave is in prison. The scenes of Joy and Dave on a camping holiday in Wales are portrayed as idyllic, with Loach exploiting the scenery and even filming the actors kissing beneath a waterfall, before they return to the harsh reality of a London council estate. It symbolises what Joy hopes for, just before Dave is sent to prison for twelve years and circumstances forced her to return to Tom.
Loach assembles a great cast, including many actors he worked for during his time at the BBC. White, whose biography is its own tragic slice of social realism, is convincingly naturalistic as Joy. Bindon is good-looking and convincingly charming, violent and intimidating, all at the same time, whilst Stamp, one of the finest actors of his generation, is superb as Dave. Familiar television actors include Ron Pember, as well as (briefly) Tony Selby, who appeared in two episodes of The Wednesday Play directed by Loach. And whilst it has more in common with Loach's early television work than his subsequent extensive and celebrated film output, it is possible to see him developing his own vision throughout. He apparently influenced the script by acting as co-writer, and Stamp later recalled that much of the dialogue was improvised, and many of the themes that he would return to later are present, albeit diluted by Dunn's more analytical approach. But what is most obvious is how much making his first feature film allowed him to stretch his wings as a director.
Loach shot the film mostly on location and in colour, honing skills he learned whilst working for the BBC and using them to good effect. He hadn't quite shaken off his fondness for docu-dramas, with title cards dividing the story into short chapters, occasional narration from White's Joy, and what appears to be real footage of a live birth when Joy has Johnny in the hospital. Cinematographer Brian Probyn is encouraged to use handheld cameras to draw the audience into the midst of action, such as when Tom is violently arrested. At one point, there's a montage that shows the burgeoning relationship between Joy and Dave, over which we hear Stamp - in character - singing Donovan's "Colours", rather badly. There's another montage later and even some aerial shots of Joy and Johnny walking along a street, as Loach exploits having a slightly bigger budget than the BBC could ever provide. There's also an element of people-watching, as Loach focuses the camera briefly on passersby, drinkers in the pub, and people eating ice-cream at the beach.
The end result is a strong film debut for Loach and one that is perhaps overshadowed by his later success, especially Kes. It has many familiar Loach elements, but the story is more Dunn's than his. Thus, Poor Cow isn't quite the harrowing kitchen sink drama that some reviewers suggest: it is instead merely a study of working class life, for better and for worse, brought to life by a fine cast that its director gets the very best out of.
Carol White (who worked with Loach on Cathy Come Home) stars as Joy, whilst real-life criminal-turned-actor (and later allegedly back to criminal) John Bindon plays her abusive husband Tom. Terence Stamp plays her subsequent lover Dave, a sensitive partner who nevertheless goes to jail after leading a robbery that involves assaulting an old lady and leaving her blind. It's all quite gritty stuff, although like Loach's television adaptation of 'Up the Junction' for the BBC, it reflects writer Dunn's observational style, which documents without judging, condemning or pitying. The film holds up a mirror to the Swinging Sixties (a fact perhaps deliberately acknowledge by the contemporary pop soundtrack), showing the darker side of a celebrated era, with its working class council estate drudgery. The scene of Joy and her friend being photographed by a group of sweaty men is convincingly seedy, although on the other hand Joy clearly wants to enjoy her sexual freedom, seemingly comfortable with her profitable, promiscuous lifestyle whilst Dave is in prison. The scenes of Joy and Dave on a camping holiday in Wales are portrayed as idyllic, with Loach exploiting the scenery and even filming the actors kissing beneath a waterfall, before they return to the harsh reality of a London council estate. It symbolises what Joy hopes for, just before Dave is sent to prison for twelve years and circumstances forced her to return to Tom.
Loach assembles a great cast, including many actors he worked for during his time at the BBC. White, whose biography is its own tragic slice of social realism, is convincingly naturalistic as Joy. Bindon is good-looking and convincingly charming, violent and intimidating, all at the same time, whilst Stamp, one of the finest actors of his generation, is superb as Dave. Familiar television actors include Ron Pember, as well as (briefly) Tony Selby, who appeared in two episodes of The Wednesday Play directed by Loach. And whilst it has more in common with Loach's early television work than his subsequent extensive and celebrated film output, it is possible to see him developing his own vision throughout. He apparently influenced the script by acting as co-writer, and Stamp later recalled that much of the dialogue was improvised, and many of the themes that he would return to later are present, albeit diluted by Dunn's more analytical approach. But what is most obvious is how much making his first feature film allowed him to stretch his wings as a director.
Loach shot the film mostly on location and in colour, honing skills he learned whilst working for the BBC and using them to good effect. He hadn't quite shaken off his fondness for docu-dramas, with title cards dividing the story into short chapters, occasional narration from White's Joy, and what appears to be real footage of a live birth when Joy has Johnny in the hospital. Cinematographer Brian Probyn is encouraged to use handheld cameras to draw the audience into the midst of action, such as when Tom is violently arrested. At one point, there's a montage that shows the burgeoning relationship between Joy and Dave, over which we hear Stamp - in character - singing Donovan's "Colours", rather badly. There's another montage later and even some aerial shots of Joy and Johnny walking along a street, as Loach exploits having a slightly bigger budget than the BBC could ever provide. There's also an element of people-watching, as Loach focuses the camera briefly on passersby, drinkers in the pub, and people eating ice-cream at the beach.
The end result is a strong film debut for Loach and one that is perhaps overshadowed by his later success, especially Kes. It has many familiar Loach elements, but the story is more Dunn's than his. Thus, Poor Cow isn't quite the harrowing kitchen sink drama that some reviewers suggest: it is instead merely a study of working class life, for better and for worse, brought to life by a fine cast that its director gets the very best out of.