“We didn’t solve anything – we just picked up the pieces”

Perception is an important part of understanding a film, which has never been clearer than in those that blur the boundaries not only between genres, but between entire conceptual frameworks. Basil Dearden’s Sapphire is one that can be seen in two ways – the first is as a flimsy, derivative crime procedural that hits every beat known to the genre. The second is as a socially-charged piece of scathing commentary, which takes aim at a certain set of ideas that only come into their own once we’re fully immersed in the story. As was the case with the director’s most notable film (Victim, which was made two years later), Sapphire is incredibly ahead of its time, a complex drama that looks at issues of race long before such direct issues could be addressed in mainstream cinema. Dearden was something of a revolutionary, and his approach was one that didn’t conceal the truth about the matters he was investigating. This is precisely the most notable strength in Sapphire, a film that doesn’t quite reach the same levels as some later works that covered very similar territory, but doing exceptionally well with the paltry material it was given, there’s very little doubt that Dearden made something absolutely worth watching, a dark and brooding thriller that offers a healthy dosage of riveting crime investigation and some minor tones of enduring melodrama that carried a significant message – and despite not being particularly strong in terms of the central premise, the ideas embedded in the film far outweigh these flaws, and make them thoroughly fascinating, if not slightly predictable, but not much more than any conventional, run-of-the-mill crime procedural.

In the early hours of the morning, a young woman named Sapphire (Yvonne Buckingham) is found dead in working-class London. No one knows who is responsible for her death, with the immediate conclusion being that she was murdered. The police, led by Superintendent Hazard (Nigel Patrick) do their best to pick up any leads they can find immediately, only to realize that there was more to this young woman’s story than any of them knew. A very popular dancer that worked on the London club circuit, Sapphire was well-liked, and thus had many friends. However, she also made an equal amount of enemies, which was only exacerbated by the realization that she was actually the multiracial daughter of immigrants from the West Indies, and that she has been passing as white for many years, going to great lengths to conceal her real heritage, which she only disclosed to her closest confidants. Unfortunately, one of them was her longtime boyfriend, David (Paul Massie ), who immediately becomes the chief suspect in the case, since he comes from a family that make their bigotry towards other racial groups very clear – and while he himself is a soft-spoken, intelligent young man, Hazard is sure that he knows more about this murder than he initially claims. However, it gradually becomes clear that this isn’t quite as easy a case to solve as they imagined, since the detectives find themselves venturing into the seedy underworld of London in the 1950s, where it is almost a national pastime for prejudiced attacks to be thrown at any immigrant or individual from a racial or ethnic group different from what is considered normal in the community – and it soon becomes clear that Sapphire may have been a victim of any of these people, who wear their bigotry as a badge of honour, using it as a way of not only reminding others of their perceived superiority, but also making it known how little they think of those outside their community.

As evident from the premise, it’s clear that Sapphire is a film with dual layers – the first is a relatively simple crime procedural that offers very little in terms of sufficient thrills. We’re presented with a pair of morally-strong detectives sent to investigate a murder, and we follow them as they “pick up the pieces”, as the final words of this film boldly state, without much in terms of challenging the genre. On the other hand, Sapphire is also a film that delivers an exceptionally strong message about identity, which may not be seen as impressive from a contemporary standpoint, but for a film produced over six decades ago, and at a time when such stories were not prioritized in any way, we can easily understand why this film’s release was such a coup against conventions. Arguably, this is not a perfect film – the titular character appears in the opening scene, and then only through the occasional photograph throughout. The central characters are instead the detectives working on her case, and her sinister boyfriend – the black characters are shifted mainly to the background (despite the film having the incredible Earl Cameron present, only giving him a handful of scenes as the deceased’s brother, and who should’ve been the focus of the film himself, rather than a scene-stealing supporting player that only contributes exposition, which seems a waste of his immense talents). However, context is important in a film like Sapphire, particularly in considering the time in which it was made – its intentions were good, and its ideas were very strong, and much like Victim, it could tend to be quite heavyhanded at times, perhaps even clumsy, but Dearden works well with the material, and creates something that is quite compelling, even at its most imperfect.

Good intentions don’t make great films, nor does it exempt them from having artistic integrity in any way – and for this reason, it’s important to remember that Sapphire wasn’t attempting to be much more than a penetrating glimpse into social normativity at a time when the world was undergoing a seismic shift, where cultures could interweave and influence each other in indelible ways. The decision to channel this idea through a procedural drama could be perceived as either a lazy choice, or the most genius approach possible – audiences tend to flock to see films that offer a few thrills and a strong story, especially at a time when film noir was at its peak. The premise isn’t misleading – we learn relatively early what this film is about, so it isn’t a matter of tricking the audience, but rather a situation where the director uses a familiar form as a means to subvert expectations and create a film that has something to say. It’s tough not to admire the film for taking such a bold approach, even if it come be overwrought at some times, particularly through struggling to actually have the deep and insightful conversations it feels it is capable of. However, it does have a lot of value, particularly in how willing it is to shatter some boundaries, and while it would be wildly inappropriate to consider this a formative work on race-related commentary in film, it does carry weight that makes it almost entirely worthwhile on its own terms.

Not necessarily a pioneering work, but more of a slow-burning melodrama that wastes no time in establishing a clear direction, and making it quite obvious that there is a lot of value in the message it is conveying. Dearden was a deeply underrated filmmaker who put a lot of nuance into his work, which tended to come across as heavyhanded melodrama quite frequently, but compensated for the lack of sophistication through an incredibly compelling story about serious social matters that were in dire need of the attention afforded by this film. Simple but fascinating, Sapphire is a thoroughly worthwhile piece of crime filmmaking that may not always be perfect, but has a rugged charm derived from a clear set of good intentions that make it, at the very least, thoroughly fascinating. It doesn’t contribute much in terms of the genre (which in itself seems to be the victim of some unconvincing storytelling that never really hits anything conceivably plausible, outside of a few tried and tested cliches), but it finds its footing in a powerful exploration of identity that feels so thoroughly complex and meaningful, we can easily forgive the more prosaic approach to the material. As a whole, Sapphire is a decent effort from a very underrated filmmaker, and is worth watching solely for the complexity with which Dearden balances his material, and his ability to extract so much value from a relatively simple and unassuming premise.