Lindsay Anderson's Preface to the O Lucky Man! Script

    A shooting script, it always seems to me, is a difficult thing to read. Unless you happen to have written it yourself. When David Sherwin and I had finished the original draft of O Lucky Man! we both I bought it read pretty well. But I think this was chiefly because we were reading it, so to speak, from the inside. When I read the same document through today, I marvel that we were ever given the money to make it.
    The script as presented here differs in many respects from that original draft. This version describes the completed film; and we have tried to make it vivid. A fair amount of material was cut before or during shooting, and these scenes, lines, episodes do not appear. Some of these losses were sad, some were not. The original conception, with extended scenes in the Coffee Factory and in Sutherland House, took too long to get "off the ground". Mick spent longer escaping from the Millar Clinic, and actually witnessed the fate of Elizabeth Valerie Stewart: this was appealing, but took up too much time. And near the end, after he has been set on and his benevolence finally smashed by the down-and-outs, we saw Mick wandering further, past mysterious midnight explosions, police whistles and the sound of running feet, before he met his destiny in Leicester Square. The evocation of contemporary urban malaise could have been powerful. But poetically the film certainly gained from concentration.
    The early part of the tale, it's springboard so to speak, was largely the contribution of Malcolm McDowell, from memories of his early coffee-selling days in the North East. Alan Price's songs were all (except one) written and recorded before we started shooting; although the original script had only indications of where each song should come, and what should be its general theme. The radio pieces are all "genuine", plucked out of the haunted air by the simple expedient of placing the microphone of my cassette tape-recorder in front of my transistor radio, usually early in the morning. The talk on Zen Buddhism was provided in this way, by the magic intervention of chance, only a few days before we were due to dub the reel.
    One characteristic feature of O Lucky Man! is not conveyed by the script: I mean the continual reappearance of actors in different roles. This idea came with the writing of the script—so that Professor Stewart, for instance, was hardly imagined before he had the face, figure and peculiar vibrancy of Graham Crowden, and of course it would have to be Rachel Roberts, harking back to earlier triumphs, as the aggressive, defeated housewife who decides that she's had enough. We never indicated these repetitions in any version of the script, partly, perhaps, because we never wished to feel enclosed in a formula; and partly, in a strange way, because we felt that this wasn't anybody's business but ours. The choices were intuitive (like the monochrome sequences in If....), never theoretical or 'programmed'. Chance also entered into it again because we could not afford to contract our entire company for the entire period of shooting: but it seemed quite appropriate that some of these reappearances should be (partly) fortuitous. And when Alan Price came up with his words for the last song, it all fell into place :

            On and on and on and on we go,
            Round the world in circles turning
            Earning what we can...

As anyone who knows If.... will surely recognize, this film is an organic, development from that work of five years ago. Many, if not most, of the same creative talents were involved; and Malcolm McDowell is again playing Mick Travis ("was your headmaster correct to expel you from school?"). But development does not imply repetition; and if this Mick starts as considerably more naif (and more conventionally ambitious) than the character in  If.... he ends up considerably wiser. Wisdom is still "the principal thing". Of course people must make their own judgments of the experience, and their own interpretations. Personally I can only say that he seems to me to arrive, after his journeying through the world of illusion, at some kind of acceptance of reality. But acceptance is not conformism.

April 3rd, 1973.

© 1973 Plexus Publishing Ltd.
This transcription © 2002-10 Alex D. Thrawn for www.MalcolmMcDowell.net