Jack Gold - big brother, famed film director
Updated: Oct 6, 2022
Marilyn Bar-Or shares some personal memories of her late brother Jack Gold (1930 –2015), famed director of multiple films for television and cinema, including Good Night Mr. Tom, Escape from Sobibor and Naked Civil Servant.
Jack and Marilyn were the children of Minnie (née Masha Elbery), the youngest of Debbie Smith’s sisters. Tony Gold and Beverley Adelaar (née Gold), Jack and Marilyn’s half-siblings, were born following Minnie’s second marriage in 1946.
MARILYN BAR-OR
Seven years older than me, my brother Jack and I did not play together much in our childhood.
But we did spend a lot of time together in my early years, as we ricocheted from one Elbery sister to another during the war – after first being evacuated from London to a house near Stratford-on-Avon, where Jack was enrolled in the King Edward VII school (1940-1941), Shakespeare’s alma mater. When nearby Birmingham was badly bombed, it was decided we would be safer in Devonshire, so we made a blacked-out, overnight dash to Exeter, where we stayed a memorable year with another Elbery sister – Polly Smith and husband Henry.
Our extraordinary year there culminated in a dramatic finish as the city was blitzed in May, 1942. Jack held me on his shoulders as we fled that night under a red sky to the station, taking the train to the house in leafy Boscombe, Bournemouth, that my Auntie Debbie had taken to contain most of her brood. Nearby lived another Elbery sister, Leah, with husband Max Lewis and children Jack and Sara, aka Middle Sara.
There, my brother Jack and Sara Elbery, aka Little Sara - who were the same age - became fast friends. Jack was like a younger brother to Debbie’s other children.
Jack was Bar Mitzva there and was not happy to miss football practice in favour of studying. I started school there.
Jack was 16 when Mummy remarried and we moved back to London (Edgware), where he soon started university studies. Our new brother and sister, Tony and Beverley, and I were somehow brought up to tiptoe around him, not to bother him because he was studying. So the only times Jack and I found ourselves together in those years were during infrequent bus rides to see my paternal grandparents. I expect my devotion to reading came from those long, multi-bus rides. I will always cherish the times Jack was roped in to accompany me across London, from Edgware all the way to Elephant and Castle to an eye clinic that I had to attend quite frequently. After those visits, Jack would take me for a tea and a bun in what I remember as a sort of chipped-cup transport ‘caff’. I treasured those times, where we really could have an undisturbed chat.
I suppose I took my interests from what interested him; gradually we came to know each other better. He was a huge influence on my taste, my opinions, my very interests. I suppose, because he was nearest to me in our early years, we shared attitudes to so many things that we did not need to explain our reasoning or opinions on any given topic; our mutual understanding was intuitive, so we rarely found ourselves deep in discussion.
He went off to college at 17 at what was then the Regent Street Polytechnic (later part of the University of London). He moved to Auntie Debbie and David Smith’s house in Cambridge Square for his college years (where he studied Economics and Law) and we didn’t see too much of him.
Jack often bought a ticket for me when he queued overnight for outstanding performances, such as Paul Robeson or the Bolshoi Ballet. I have many books with his birthday dedication in them; one, for my 12th birthday was The Faber Book of Comic Verse. I can still recite swathes of it by heart. Jack had a marvellous sense of humour and gags from the Marx Brothers or Jimmy Durante (to name but two!) were constant references at home. He actually played Harpo in a film he made at the Regent Street Poly.
In those years he played squash and also became an excellent basketball player. In fact, Jack became Captain of the national team (this always brings a derisive laugh; indeed, the English have never embraced this sport) but the team was good enough to open a programme headed by the Harlem Globetrotters.
Jack graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in both Economics and Law. Two degrees were demanded by the BBC, where he decided to try his luck for a job that would not involve having to slave away in an office. It is ironic that he began as a sound-effects person in Radio because he was deaf in one ear, a consequence of having developed mastoiditis at the age of 7. His acceptance hinged, among other things, on an interview and a hearing test!
Although he could not actually hear the audio component, his peripheral vision, developed in basketball, saw him through. He detected a motion beyond the scope of his hearing, which was the signal to sound the noise! Voila! The beginning of a career in Sound Effects that started with Jack crushing cellophane to obtain the sound of a frying egg! Later he moved to the Television division, where he travelled with Alan Whicker and Fyfe Robertson for the Tonight show, becoming a film editor and moving into directing and, ultimately, a fine career as a free-lance director.
Jack had an encyclopedic memory for literature and music: I could turn to him for the name of a film or a piece of music; the actor in a given performance; the poet who wrote a particular line. His is still the person I first think of when seeking such 'trivia.'
Occasionally, during the many years I have spent away from ‘home,’ we would grab any opportunity that would bring us together. In Israel, he came with a BBC crew and journalist to cover the Eichmann Trial; and, together with his beloved wife, Des (actress Denyse Alexander), we'd all meet when his or Oded’s work would land us in foreign parts – Czechoslovakia, Switzerland, France, Holland, Canada. These were occasions of sheer joy.
At 85, Jack was out running when he collapsed and was not to go home again. Up to that day he had played tennis weekly with some staunch friends: they played happily by Jack’s rules - no fist-punching; no groaning; no scoring; and NO WINNING.
Perhaps to his surprise, Jack won many plaudits and trophies throughout his career; his filmography comprises some 80 works. He was a man of integrity, modesty and wit. I am sure he is greatly missed by all who worked or played or lived with him.
TONY GOLD
What can I say that our dear brother Jack?
Although we didn’t grow up together, he always seemed to be there in my head as my big brother on whom I could rely, and certainly was a true source of wisdom and never judgmental when I sought his advice. I totally trusted him.
Jack introduced me to jazz which has been my lifelong friend.
Through his body of work I learned about injustice, prejudice and the evils of political extremism. He was a gentle activist who found his voice through the medium of film.
We all need more Jacks in life. I’m so proud of him!
BEVERLEY ADELAAR
My brother Jack was seventeen years my senior. He didn't live with us, but came Sundays to visit. He would roughhouse us in a game we called Bears and Elephants. Growing up, I sensed from an early age that he was a very private person and didn't do small talk, so I never engaged him, although when I was older, I would casually enquire what he was doing. He would answer briefly. I learned later that he worked for the BBC and was an acclaimed film and theatre director. I was full of admiration and very proud of him. I took a keen interest in his professional career and delighted in his success.
I was thinking how generous and kind Jack was. In 1969 when he knew I was going to live in Israel, he offered to pay for my flight. It was so unexpected and I was very touched. It was life changing! I was twenty-two and I have lived in Israel ever since.
That departure meant I saw little of him over the years. But it was reassuring to know he was there. He was a kind and loving family man and brother.