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THE INNOCENT EYE
in admiration, gazing at it from a variety of angles. Then he went inside and took one look round. "It's an exterior job," he said.
'We pressed on towards Devon, but on the outskirts of Salisbury, where the road crosses the railway and heads for open country, there were a lot of chaps looking over a wall. "Stop!" cried Flaherty. "What's going on?"
'It was a cricket inatch.
'Flaherty was fascinated. Finding he could not see well standing on the floor of the car, he climbed precariously on to the seat cushions. "You must explain what they're doing," he said.
'I disliked cricket then even more than I do now. My explanations were punctuated by hints about the tightness of shooting schedules and the problems of E.M.B. Unit expenditure. But it was about twenty minutes before I could get Flaherty to sit down.
'At last we established ourselves at a tiny pub, The Lamb, between Exeter and Cotley, where the farm was that we used in the film. We were rather crushed, but I secured Flaherty a room for himself. He expressed the warmest gratitude. At least for sleeping, he liked solitude.
'Flaherty was interested in the girl who looked after the bar and the bedrooms, one of those strapping Devon wenches, tall with a fine figure, splendid vital statistics, dark flashing eyes, black hair and a heightened colour. Flaherty, in an entirely aesthetic way, was fascinated by her "foreignness" ; and when I, or someone else in the unit, brought up the old story of the ship-wrecked mariners from the Spanish Armada mingling with the local population, his imagination got to work with a flood of ideas on which, solemn young documentarist that I was, I tried to put a curb.
'What I remember most vividly is the soft, careful and tactful manner in which, over a number of days shooting, he (as it were) lent me his wonderful eyes. He never said, "Look, how wonderful! You must shoot that." Almost as in passing, he commented on the play of light on fields and woods and distant landscape, or on certain movements of horses or cattle, or even on the way a lane twisted between hedges to reveal the half-seen gable of a house. It's almost impossible to explain his way of seeing things in this manner, and how he, often in an undertone, conveyed it to you. I certainly would say that in those few days he enriched my understanding of looking at things
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