The mixture as before—or is it? Well, not quite. The formula [in Reflex] is certainly the same—the jockey struggling against odds, the secondary background, in this case photography, expertly related to the racing, the unflagging pace, the intricately worked-out plots—not always cohering—the nice girl innocently involved. As always the racing scenes are splendid, terse, evocative and of such immediate impact that one can almost hear the smash of birch and the thud of hooves; the photographic side, too, has clearly been carefully researched, its technicalities being set down with obsessional attention to detail.

But these are things common to the whole canon of Francis' work. This time a new dimension has been added. Since, and not before time, there is less emphasis on brutality—there is only one ritual beating up—he has been enabled to flesh out his characters. The portrait of Philip...