Review of Poor Cow (1967) by Eric B — 18 May 2012

Director Ken Loach's first feature is an insightful but somewhat shapeless portrait of a vivacious young woman (Carol White) struggling to raise a baby in a dingy English neighborhood. Within the opening minutes, her husband is sent to prison after a bungled robbery. She soon latches onto a second man (Terence Stamp) but, unfortunately, he too has been pressed into a life of crime. He is more sensitive to her needs but also is sentenced before long, which means Stamp fans may be frustrated with his lack of screen time. From there, our heroine takes a job in a rowdy pub, dabbles in cheesecake modeling and tries to fill her relationship void with casual lovers. There is no moral lesson here -- this is just how a woman on her own manages to stay afloat. The story fades out inconclusively.

Donovan provides a few tunes for the soundtrack (Stamp himself sings "Colours"), and various other pop songs are heard throughout -- almost as if a crew member's transistor radio is randomly playing in the background. The effect is a bit ragged, and further shaky elements include the girl's sporadic narration, an odd decision to close with a documentary-style interview and some awkward title cards that rarely add useful information. The lighting often seems too warm and pleasing for the story's gritty tone, but an initial childbirth scene and an overgenerous amount of toddler nudity add some controversy.

"Poor Cow" usually gets lumped with its era's "kitchen-sink" movement, but there are much better examples of the genre to seek out.