Giant swastikas on red Nazi banners are rustling in the breeze, youths in brown shirts and Nazi armbands wander the street, a man posts anti-Semitic propaganda on a lamppost, then sprays it with dirty water.
Before my eyes, the street is changing, from Ulster in early summer to spring 1931 in Berlin.
I ask Sax if he had attempted to create images for her like the famous one of Minelli in stockings, suspenders and bowler-hat.
‘Research proved that Jean Ross wasn’t anything like that,’ he says.
He’s impeccably dressed in white shirt, waistcoat and tie, and he’s reading script pages, very calmly, occasionally running his fingers through slicked-back hair. Later, after watching a take of himself stepping out of an apartment block into the hubbub, he introduces himself. Isherwood was quite particular physically, and he had a quite particular voice.’ He certainly did, as a visit to youtube can confirm.