Private Schulz

...fond of reminiscing about is Private Schulz, first broadcast in six episodes in 1981. A couple of years ago I went on-line to see if it was available on DVD. It wasn’t, then, but what I did find was a coterie of like-minded Schulz enthusiasts. Some had precious videos of the original broadcast; others had seen it repeated on satellite in the middle of the night. One or two had written to the BBC asking, nay demanding, that it be made available on ...
...who finds himself as a private in the SS because of his language skills. We follow him through the initial idea, the setting up of the counterfeit scheme and the attempts to distribute the forged cash. But he is more than just the ideas man. With his lowly position and Everyman name he represents the little guy constantly dumped on from above: he takes the rap when things go wrong, and gets no credit when they go brilliantly right. We watch him moving ... more

They don’t make TV programmes like they used to, do they? Mind you, nothing’s what it was – education, health service, yoof. No proper standards any more. As for the banks! Well, point proven. Now when I was young ….

By now everyone over 50 is nodding in agreement and everyone under 25 has tuned out. Actually, I don’t buy into that rosy-glowed view of the past stuff. Many things are better now, and much of the rest is simply … different. Except for the banks, obviously. And TV drama. Good, made-for-TV drama, as opposed to corsages-and-carriages adaptations, is hard to find these days, and that strange hybrid, comedy drama, is virtually extinct.

One member of the species that Mr C and I are fond of reminiscing about is Private Schulz, first broadcast in six episodes in 1981. A couple of years ago I went on-line to see if it was available on DVD. It wasn’t, then, but what I did find was a coterie of like-minded Schulz enthusiasts. Some had precious videos of the original broadcast; others had seen it repeated on satellite in the middle of the night. One or two had written to the BBC asking, nay demanding, that it be made available on DVD. Last October our wishes were granted and the DVD was released.

The story is set in World War 2 and is based on a real SS scheme called Operation Bernhard. The idea was to undermine the UK economy by forging millions of pounds worth of banknotes and dropping them from planes. (Toxic debt and sub-prime mortgages hadn’t been invented then; they would have saved the SS a lot of trouble). Many would be handed in by honest citizens, but many more would find their way into circulation. Over £100m of forged notes were produced although the dropping from planes idea was abandoned. They were used for purchases of foreign goods and paying spies and agents. The Bank of England became aware of their existence, of course, and declared them the best forgeries ever seen. Not surprising, as the SS had ready access to master criminals conveniently penned up in concentration camps. The forgers were scheduled for termination after their work was done, but in the chaos of 1945 they all survived.

So a wacky story, perfect for a comedy drama. In this treatment, credit for the original idea is ascribed to Schulz, a small-time conman brimming with ideas who finds himself as a private in the SS because of his language skills. We follow him through the initial idea, the setting up of the counterfeit scheme and the attempts to distribute the forged cash. But he is more than just the ideas man. With his lowly position and Everyman name he represents the little guy constantly dumped on from above: he takes the rap when things go wrong, and gets no credit when they go brilliantly right. We watch him moving through and after the war trying, and failing, to (a) get his hands on some of the forged cash as everyone else is, and (b) get laid, as everyone else also is. Despite the setbacks, of which there are many, he is always planning, trying to find a way round obstacles, never down-hearted for long. Like a modern Candide he keeps bouncing back, even as cataclysmic events rage around him, and never harbours a grudge.

Michael Elphick is perfect as Schulz. His round, open face and rubbery features are ideal for conveying expressions of hurt surprise and righteous indignation as his best-laid plans go awry, morphing into cautious optimism and calculating shrewdness as another proverbial light bulb goes on in his head. The acting prize, however, belongs to the late lamented Ian Richardson as Major Neuheim. You may remember him best as Francis Urquhart in House of Cards, but I prefer him in this role because it displays all his versatility and encompasses both the dramatic and the comic. With that thin ascetic face and long patrician nose he is every inch the archetypal SS officer, but he is part master-race and part on-the-make, protect-my-backside bumbler and this comic combination is delightfully portrayed by Richardson taking it just far enough not to tip over into farce. A plot device also allows him to play two other roles and as this composite he represents Schulz’s nemesis, the one thing that is always getting between him and a quiet, rich life. Richardson is spell-binding in his virtuosity and sheer screen presence, Elphick is the perfect foil and they are ably supported by Billie Whitelaw and a host of well-known character actors of that era.

So the story was quirky, the script witty and taut, the acting wonderful and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing it again, right? Er, well no, not exactly. Like cold leftovers, it wasn’t quite the same: good, but not tip-top. I’ve been pondering why and decided it came down to two things.

The first problem was the direction. The pace was so slow, almost glacial at times. I wanted to shout, “oh, do get on” at several points, not because I knew what was coming next (I couldn’t remember much of the detail), but because the story-line seemed to linger in the wrong places and hold up the dramatic thrust. Yet when the action did flow it was superb, which made it doubly annoying when it came to a shuddering halt. Scenes with background groups seemed to be the worst. Although the settings looked authentic enough, they were peopled with one or two token, stiff characters who succeeded only in being a distraction. If asked to write about this series in 1981, I wouldn’t have included “slow direction” in my account, so why does it strike me like this now? Have our lives speeded up to such an extent that even a slow-paced TV programme jars? Or is it just a matter of fashion, dictated by fast action movies? Whichever, the directing style has not aged well.

The other problem is broader, and concerns the vexed question of comedy about the SS and concentration camp inmates. “'Allo 'Allo!” was the subject of much hand-wringing over this issue, and that was out-and-out farce with every side ridiculed equally. In the comedy drama genre of Private Schulz we are in more danger of finding the combination of the cuddly Schulz and the bumbling Neuheim relatively harmless, even with extras in their concentration camp uniforms in the background, wrapped as we are in the overall feel-good ambience of the production. Perhaps in an effort to jerk us out of this cosy world, each episode is interspersed with contemporary newsreel footage, both British and German, and later American, to remind us of the broader picture. But it remains entertainment designed to make us laugh. I like to think I can resist the loonier strictures of the PC brigade but I felt a bit uncomfortable with this, again not something I was aware of before. It’s interesting that our sensitivities are more heightened now, although I don’t think it’s made us a more caring society. That discussion, however, is for another time and place. Suffice it to say that it wasn’t enough to be a major issue, for me, but anyone offended by “'Allo 'Allo!” won’t like this.

There is a film treatment of the story in “The Counterfeiters” (“Die Fälscher”), a 2008 Austrian-German production, and Radio 4 recently ran an interview with the sole surviving forger. It is a story which, not surprisingly, generates interest and is perhaps best told straight with no fictional overlay. I was a little disappointed with my re-visit, but apart from the specific drawbacks I mentioned I probably over-hyped it in my mind and there are still some sublime moments. Catch Private Schulz if you can, but don’t go out of your way. And remember nothing’s what it was, not the banks, not TV programmes and certainly not nostalgia.
 

...less