The following is commentary on Episode No. 30 ("Salute the Happy Morn") from members of AFAMILYATWAR-LIST. If you wish to add your thoughts to what is being said on this page, become a part of our discussion group by clicking the "Join" button.
Richard Veit
"Salute the Happy Morn" explores two major storylines, in addition to several of lesser import. One of great significance in the Ashton saga is the Christmas visit to Liverpool of Harry and Celia Porter, for this is when Celia first learns of Margaret's adulterous affair with Michael Armstrong. Another is David's indulgent liaison with Grace Gould, the married sister of RAF pilot Peter Bryant.
I continue to marvel at the unerring virtuosity of actress Margery Mason, whose portrayal of Celia makes sparks fly whenever she is on screen. Her every move seems to advance the plot, tightening tension among the principal characters almost to the breaking point. Writer John Finch can be justifiably proud of such an inspired creation as Celia Porter, so intimidating and yet rife with human weakness. I like the way Celia pouts when she supposes that Jean has scorned her Christmas card, a believable scripting device that later serves to explain why she would sift through the Ashtons' afternoon post when it spills through the door slot. Then comes a pivotal scene when she brazenly opens Michael Armstrong's letter to Margaret and discovers the terrible truth, forcing Harry to confront the unthinkable.
David's selfish behaviour can be shockingly insensitive, of course, and this episode presents one of the the more egregious examples. When Edwin rings him at a London telephone number on Christmas, David shamelessly exchanges familial greetings with his father, wife, and mother while Grace persists in distracting his attention with some suggestive petting. Poor Sheila remains none the wiser, thanks to her husband's practiced duplicity. It is infuriating to hear David tell his trusting mother, "I'm thinking of you all up there." In such cases, the viewer might well be excused for wishing the worst upon David, hoping that he gets what he deserves. And this very nearly occurs soon thereafter when Sheila, her better judgement impaired by drink, yields to temptation and tries to seduce Colin Woodcock.
Some random comments about "Salute the Happy Morn"...
Margaret and Harry share a special relationship, and I very much enjoy the scenes in which they appear together. Drama abounds in the kitchen when he reveals to her that Celia now is aware of the other man. Margaret's response is shattering, a splendid piece of acting from the wonderful Lesley Nunnerley.
Harry Porter is such a genuine, likeable character. I love that warm moment when he tells his daughter-in-law that she would be surprised to know "what goes on under this rather tatty, middle-aged exterior."
It is sad indeed to see Jean's continuing decline in health. At times, she appears confused and exhausted, unable even to deal with life's most basic concerns as her condition worsens.
Equally painful to witness is her crumbling marriage. Still devasted by young Robert's death at sea, she is quick to reject any peace overtures from Edwin. When he begs, "Don't turn away from me," and places a hand on her shoulder, Jean recoils from the advance and snaps at him, "Don't ever touch me again."
There are two understated but quite touching scenes with Jean. First, in conversation with Celia, she lovingly holds the model ship that once belonged to Robert, recounting that regrettable day when she slapped her son and locked him in his room. Then, in full sight of Philip, she admires the small table that Robert brought home from West Africa. In her muddled state of mind, she mistakenly identifies it as a gift from Philip.
On the lighter side, it is quite amusing to watch the men (John, Harry, and Edwin) when they return from the pub, delighting in John's retelling of a joke's punch line. Their merriment is cut short by Celia's cross voice from upstairs.
John Finch
I was very happy to read Richard’s perceptive view of the Porters. I have been trying, on and off, for thirty years to develop them, either in television or theatre, in a modern setting.
Not long ago the ideal situation came to me from out of the blue; very exciting, very contemporary and very true to character. Especially interesting for me as I’ve always believed that fundamentally we have never developed as a species, and what was true for yesterday can still hold true for today, and even tomorrow. I am currently working on it, to the exclusion of all else, and hope it won’t be too long before it is available to anyone likely to be of interest. I have called it (with apologies to Arthur Miller) "Life of a Salesman." If used, it will be the first title I ever initially came up with which will survive, so in the end it will probably be called something else.
Thank you all, and especially Richard, for your interest.
Vibeke Kold
One of my favourite funny moments occurs in this episode when Edwin, Harry, and John returns from the pub a bit tipsy and in high spirits - laughing about a saying that John has to repeat over and over again: "Charlie doesn't like it!" We are not explained who Charlie is or what it was he didn't like - but I love to see the three men joining a common moments of happiness in the middle of an awful christmas 1942 with Jean loosing her senses, John still being not quite himself, and Celia threatening Harry to tell John about Margaret and Michael. Edwin, John, and Harry deserve so much the pleasure of the pub ride and the laugh about this unknown Charlie afterwards.
Richard Veit
Yes, Vibeke, that is indeed a lovely scene (giving us a rare glimpse of John Porter's lighter side) until the mood is shattered by Celia's voice shouting from upstairs: "Harry? Is that you?" I have always resented Celia at this particular moment, ruining the men's chance for some well deserved frivolity. By the way, there is a photo of that funny moment at the beginning of Episode No. 30 on the website.
If deemed suitable for mixed company, perhaps John Finch can tell us how that joke about Charlie goes!
