The opening ten minutes are a perfect case in point, which sees Bogarde’s Matt attempt to plant a bomb on the London Underground, with thrillingly tense results.

Despite opening with this gentle political commentary, very soon Dearden allows his characters and noirish plot to dominate, with The Gentle Gunman never forgetting to be a briskly paced thriller first and foremost. One of the studio’s most respected directors Basil Dearden (Dead of Night, The Blue Lamp) depicts Dirk Bogarde and John Mills as brothers waging an IRA bombing campaign during WWII. Ealing Studios produced this interesting take on the Troubles with a handful of its most famous stars in front and behind the camera. John Mills’ earnest goodness, repentance and determination shine through here, giving the film its heart. There have been a fair few films covering these two different time periods, from Ken Loach’s Palm d’Or winning The Wind that Shakes the Barely, to Jim Sheridan’s Danial Day Lewis vehicle In The Name of the Father and Yan Denamge’s underrated and agonisingly tense thriller ’71.

Pat Cleary continues "The Featherbeds was a turf-cutting area and from 1950 onwards we had a turf plot at the location. Images submitted must be in Landscape orientation, as would be seen on the cinema screen, not Portrait. A lesser-known gem is crime thriller The Gentle Gunman, based on the stage play by Roger McDougall ( The Man in The White Suit, The Bells Go Down) and starring two titans of post-War British cinema: John Mills and Dirk Bogarde. Robert Beatty, playing committed IRA commander Shinto, arguably makes the biggest impression out of the central three characters, playing his role with a steely sense of cold determination.

Instead, you applaud both the character and the actor for taking what is literally a no filter approach in an age when we’ve come to expect nothing less than physical perfection, especially in front of the camera. When his co-conspirators are arrested, he ensures that his brother Matt (Sir Dirk Bogarde) escapes back to Ireland. It's of the well-produced quality that we came to expect of the Basil Dearden/Michael Relph directing/producing team - crisp photography, great Irish locations, some exciting set-pieces, memorable character acting in support of a story that is made to motor along effectively. In London, Terence Sullivan (John Mills), a longtime gunman for the Irish Republican Army, has started questioning his loyalty to the cause, which disturbs his younger brother, Matt (Dirk Bogarde), and their colleagues back in Ireland.While both actors were big names at the time, Bogarde’s role certainly plays second fiddle to John Mill’s more commanding and dominant older brother.

Here, though, the moral ambiguity seeps in again, providing an ending to the film that many critics at the time found a cop-out. The British magazine Time Out thought the film was "stiff" and "overplotted", [3] while the British Film Institute thought the film struggled to "find the right tone" and culminated with a "car-crash of an ending". Yet even with its handful of nicely staged action scenes, its focus is much more on the ideological clash between family and national identity as loyalties and beliefs ebb, flow and begin to shift as the bodies begin to pile up. For example, neither lead are actually Irish, with their accents somewhat laboured and unconvincing at times. We are aware that there are films on the site that were added when the criteria for the inclusion of locations was very different from today and, as a result, there may be scenes missing from some productions.

Many British films make light of The Troubles (like the same team's 'The League of Gentlemen') in stark contrast to the earnestness with which they depict them in dramas. My brother and I, when we were old enough, would spend many summer Saturdays helping out - getting there and back on the back of a lorry. But, over their series of meetings, they discover an unexpected connection, learning more about the reality of each other and, most importantly, coming to a deeper understanding of their individual selves. Tony Hanna advises that the 'NI' registration on the bus is the old registration for County Wicklow. Barbara Mullen fares better, bringing a quiet dignity and pathos to her role of an embattled Mother trying to steer her family away from conflict and harm.