When you first take a look at A Patch of Blue, you’d be forgiven for thinking it to be yet another run-of-the-mill “message” movie, a film that deals with social issues in a way that may be earnest, but it also often overwrought with how it discusses some very important topics. Guy Green was not a filmmaker often associated with the idea of subtlety, and this film doesn’t entirely embody it either, being mainly a warm but otherwise minor entry into a canon of race-related dramas from the 1960s that critically looked at the bigotry a large portion of the population had to face in their everyday lives. However, this is barely giving the film the credit it deserves, because what it lacks in nuance it more than makes up for in sincerity, which is why this adaptation of Be Ready with Bells and Drums , the novel by Elizabeth Kata is so effective, since it never aims to be anything outside of its wheelhouse, instead choosing to remain sincere and forthright in how it handles some issues that are deeply unsettling, but in a way that makes these discussions accessible and meaningful, rather than polarizing audiences. A Patch of Blue is one of the many dramas that were designed to be approachable and endearing, where the message is strong but not forcibly trying to divide viewers – and for this reason alone, as well as a few elements of the filmmaking itself, it becomes quite effective, leading us to easily enjoy this wonderfully sweet and earnest story of friendship and overcoming adversity in a world divided by factors beyond those that should be the source of contention towards one’s self-worth. It’s a beautiful and effective work that does what it needs to do to get its message across – whether this is enough is up to individual interpretation.

A Patch of Blue joins a large group of films produced towards the middle of the twentieth century that were well-intentioned, but perhaps a bit clumsy with the social commentary. Race is a difficult issue to discuss, and it is almost impossible to feasibly create a situation where there is a one-to-one comparison between the experiences of the victims of bigotry and the supposed reparations that would be available to them. It’s a much more complex discussion that perhaps doesn’t necessarily lend itself to being particularly easy to comprehend, let alone craft an entire narrative work around. Needless to say, this film does its best to showcase the experiences of those living with the burden of being seen as inferior by a group of people who have their lives driven by nothing but prejudice. It’s not the most essential work in this regard – after all, it was written and directed by those who did not have the intricate knowledge of these issues (Green was not only white, but also a foreigner, so his ability to fully comprehend the scope of the story he was telling, while meaning well, was severely limited). Using friendship as a tool for commentary can be an effective way of discussing pressing issues, especially since it can lend itself to a naturally more warm and endearing sense of comfort, rather than being bleak and bold in ways that more ambitious films tend to be. Green strikes the right balance, and produces something that feels genuine and lived-in, rather than simply being a restrictive adaptation of a novel that had good intentions, but was really a minor work that seemed to intend to start the conversation, rather than guide it, which is admirable in its own way.

There are a few reasons behind the success of A Patch of Blue, such as the performances that occur at the heart of it. Sidney Poitier was at the height of his career at this point – he was one of the industry’s most sought-after leading men, and someone whose incredible gifts endeared him to a global audience. The problem with a lot of the work Poitier was doing at this time was that he was playing characters that were often beneath his talents. Undeniably, one can argue that there were slim pickings in an industry that was sadly still so divided (as a result of needing to maintain popularity with a wider audience), but when a film like this comes in the same year as his staggering work in The Slender Thread, one has to wonder what other roles Poitier could’ve spent his time on. He’s certainly not bad in this film, and his character is just as charming and endearing as any of the others he played – the actor embodies the candour and dedication of a man trying to find his way through the world, which he discovers comes in the form of a blind girl that he befriends, ultimately changing her life. Elizabeth Hartman is the other half of the central duo, and while most of her role entails playing a blind character, she does as well as could be expected with such a limited part. She and Poitier have wonderful chemistry, and manage to play off each other in a way that feels natural (and contrasts sharply with the over-the-top performance by the normally wonderful Shelley Winters, who reminds us that having a bold character doesn’t necessarily mean one has to infuse every scene with excess – a disappointing performance from a very gifted actress), and grounds the film. Removing all of the social commentary, A Patch of Blue is a film mainly about friendship, so both actors rise to the occasion and deliver stellar work worthy of our time, even if the film itself can be uneven at times.

However, as flawed as it may be, A Patch of Blue is worthwhile purely for the sake of being one of the more progressive films of its era. It may stumble with some of its commentary, but it’s better to have a film that knows exactly what it wants to say, and doing it slightly clumsily, than having a film that just doesn’t address these pressing issues at all. Ultimately, Green wasn’t aiming to make the definitive work on the subject of racism – if he had, the film would be much more detailed (we don’t even learn where in the United States the film is situated, with the assumption being one of the southern states, but we can never be entirely sure), and the overall message would be delivered in a format that was much more enduring, rather than just being a minor story of a budding romance between two wayward souls. In understanding what this film is doing, we need to look at not only its message, but the delivery of it – the way Poitier’s character navigates the world is very different from more realistic depictions, with his existence almost mythological in the lives of these characters. Their perspectives are rather binary – they either view Gordon as a friend or an enemy, with very little chance of that opinion changing. For those who are more open-minded, their perspective is bright and endearing. However, it’s in the more racist characters that the film becomes slightly questionable, and while the message is very clear, it takes a while to fully unpack everything that defines the film, which can lead to a work that is a lot more challenging to fully embrace from a contemporary perspective.

A Patch of Blue is a film that requires the viewer to really understand the perspective of its characters more than anything else, since any other approach would ultimately lead to it needing to be a much more coherent piece in terms of how it tackles race. Once again, expecting a film like this to be the definitive word on the experiences of black folk in the 1960s is only setting expectations that could never be met, least of all by such a small and unassuming film. The best way to look at this story is as simply the friendship that exists between these two characters, and the situation that facilitates it. It’s hardly surprising the strongest parts are those in the first half, where we see the two protagonists interacting, which leads to a series of lovely moments between two very different individuals as they get to know each other. It falters when it comes time to tie up the loose ends and layer on the race-related narrative, which is by no means unnecessary, but not nearly as smoothly assimilated into the film as it should’ve been. As a whole, A Patch of Blue is a fine film, a remnant of its time and one that doesn’t feel impelled to reinvent anything about this genre of hard-hitting social issues drama. It’s lovely and very sweet, and has a sense of humour where it’s required, and leaves an emotional impact in crucial places. It may not be groundbreaking, but as we’ve mentioned above, sometimes just starting the conversation is more than enough to qualify something as a worthwhile work of fiction.