[1] According to one obituary, "Regardless of whether he was directing a light comedy, war epic or crime drama, Mr. Guillermin had a reputation as an intense, temperamental perfectionist, notorious for screaming at cast and crew alike.

His domineering manner often alienated producers and actors...But Mr. Guillermin's impeccable eye and ability to capture both intimate moments and large-scale action scenes usually overcame that reputation.

[3] Yvon Jean Guillermin grew up in Purley, Surrey ("one of those towns you drive through and never stop at on your way to the coast"),[3] where he attended St Anne's School for Boys.

After mustering out of the Royal Air Force at the age of 22, Guillermin's directorial career began in France with documentary filmmaking, some of which was for the perfume company his father worked for.

[7] According to a critical review of Guillermin's work, "One of his stylistic constants, an expert use of handheld camera to add grit and muscle to key scenes, may be rooted in those early efforts, and they function as counterweights to Guillermin's penchant for forceful lines, a very plastic sense of interior spaces, and use of overhead shots...Guillermin's interest in conveying how people and spaces relate to one another and how decisions are reached and carried out suggests a spark to his filmmaking that one might call Griersonian even if the grandfather of British documentary focused on social development and progress as opposed to collapse.

Together they made Bless 'Em All (1948) which Guillermin helped produce; it was directed by Hill and featured Max Bygraves in his film debut.

Guillermin made several movies for the low-budget Vandyke Productions, a company run by Roger and Nigel Proudlock.

[9] Also for Vandyke Guillermin directed Four Days (1951), a thriller with Reynolds, and Song of Paris (1952), a comedy with Dennis Price.

Guillermin received an offer from the short-lived Group 3 Films to make Miss Robin Hood (1952), a comedy starring Margaret Rutherford.

This was described as "the first example of prime Guillermin...a 70-minute programmer so tautly directed that every image counts, every detail matters, every actor's movement feels perfectly timed—a true gem.

He also did The Crowded Day (1954), a shop girl melodrama with John Gregson, which was an attempt by Adelphi to enter bigger budgeted filmmaking.

According to the BFI, "it was a modest beginning but he soon hit his stride with a string of films that transcended their meagre budgets to reveal a genuine talent.

"[11] Guillermin returned to features with Thunderstorm (1956), shot in Spain for British Lion starring Carlos Thompson.

Setton hired Guillermin for what would be his breakthrough movie: Town on Trial (1957), starring John Mills as a detective investigating a small-town murder.

The defence would do worse than to offer Town on Trial as its Exhibit A, drawing particular attention to its breathtaking PoV shot of the killer stalking a second victim that anticipates the camera gymnastics of Dario Argento.

"[11] Following this, Guillermin announced he would make Insurrection about the 1916 Easter Rising for Carl Foreman based on a story by Liam O'Flaherty.

In between the two, Guillermin directed The Whole Truth (1958), a thriller produced by Jack Clayton with Stewart Granger, George Sanders and Donna Reed; it was distributed by Columbia.

[8] It was followed by a heist film with Aldo Ray and Peter O'Toole, The Day They Robbed the Bank of England (1960), also made for MGM.

For the same company, Guillermin made Waltz of the Toreadors (1962), based on a Jean Anouilh play, which reunited him with Sellers.

These were Rapture (1965), shot in France with Melvyn Douglas, and The Blue Max (1966), an expensive aerial epic starring George Peppard and James Mason.

It was tricky trying to balance all the jokes on the one hand and the danger of bathos on the other, but I wanted it to be obvious that we regarded the material with sincerity.

[17] Guillermin said in a 1976 interview "I've been directing all over the bloody world for 27 years, learning my craft, and by now it's dripping from my fingers.

"[24] In the late 1970s, Guillermin was attached to make The Godfather Part III and worked on a script with Dean Reisner and Mario Puzo.

Town on Trial (1957) showed his early craftsmanship, with Guillermin managing to obtain a menacing performance from the usually benign John Mills.

"[28] Elmo Williams, producer of The Blue Max, described Guillermin as a "demanding director, indifferent to people getting hurt as long as he got realistic action...he was a hard-working, overly critical man whom the crew disliked.

Guillermin hit his stride at the end of the Fifties, just as a post-studio system style of filmmaking was arising with the French New Wave, Britain's Free Cinema, and so on.

For the admirers of these idioms, Guillermin's meticulously executed and unapologetically classical works, such as The Blue Max (1966) or The Bridge at Remagen (1969), were anathema.

The only Guillermin film that was somewhat in synch with the fashion of the day is Never Let Go (1960), an excursion into England's underworld that functions as a perfectly constructed parable about the new middle class's fear of falling—a kitchen-sink noir.

Guillermin is something of a melancholic: In his coolly unflinching cinema, tired, traumatized men in desperate situations fight with dour determination for a few shreds of dignity.

There's nothing conventionally uplifting about his films; his tales of violence, grimy glory, and defeat conceded with stoicism, don't make for easy viewing experiences.