The Case for Global Film

Discussing everything that isn't Hollywood (and a little that is).

Author Archive

Omar (Palestinian territories 2013)

Posted by keith1942 on 26 July 2014

Omar still

The current intensification of the war by Israel against Palestinians makes this film timely viewing. The basic story concerns a young Palestinian militant who is forced to become an informant for the Israeli security in the occupied West Bank. The film also follows a triangular relationship amongst the Palestinians. What makes it so effective is the representation of the life of Palestinians under occupation. In particular the film makes good use of the ‘separation walls’ constructed by the Israelis to control the Palestinians. The film was shot predominately in Nablus and Nazareth and locations are often recognisable from newsreel and documentary films.

Omar has been written and directed by Hany Abu-Assad. His earlier Paradise Now (2005) was a critical and festival success. This film is more conventional, especially in the personal drama. But like the earlier film it has a sense of raw reality and an often-powerful mise en scène.

Predictably the film has only a limited distribution in the UK and some institutions have had problems with attribution. However it is screening at the Hebden Bridge Picture House on the 29th and 30th of August. Definitely a film to be seen.

Posted in Palestinian Cinema | Tagged: , | Leave a Comment »

Japan Speaks Out! Shochiku’s Modern Times

Posted by keith1942 on 21 July 2014

Tanaka Kinuyo and Takada Kokichi in Okoto and Sasuke

Tanaka Kinuyo and Takada Kokichi in Okoto and Sasuke

This was the thirds and final programme of early Japanese sound films curated by Alexander Jacoby and Johan Nordstrom for Il Cinema Ritrovato. The selection of films was made from a major Japanese studio, Shochiku, whose cohorts included major Japanese directors and at a point when the industry was increasing it mastery of the new technology. This was for me the strongest programme of films of the three.

Shochiku employed to brothers to ‘plunder Western technical journals to produce an indigenous sound system, ‘the so-called “Tsuchihashi system”. The studio also moved production from its Kamata studio on the outskirts of Tokyo to rural Ofuna, where external noise was much lower. ‘Ofuna flavour’ was a description of the tone of Shochiku productions in the period, dominated by the shomi-geki genre. But the films also tended to follow the style developed at Kamata in the silent era:

directors such as Shimazu, Shimizu, and the young Naruse perfected a distinctly flamboyant visual style, ‘Kamata modernism’, ideally suited to exploring the tension in 1930s Japan between the native and the foreign, tradition and modernity.

Hanayome No Negoto / The Bride Talks in Her Sleep, 1933 57 minutes and

Hanamuko No Negoto / The Groom Talks in His Sleep, 1935 73 minutes.

This was a double bill of comedies directed by Gosho Heinosuke and scripted by Fushimi Akira.  Both films were photographed by Ohara Joji. The sound team included one of the Tsuchihashi brothers. The most well known performers for western audiences would be Tanaka Kinuyo. The curators comment that

much of the film’s distinction comes from the wit of Gosho’s direction and the charm of the acting, particularly of the heroines (Tanaka Kinuyo in Bride; Kawasaki Hiroko in Groom.

Ureshii Koro / Happy Times, 1933 83 minutes and with an aspect ratio of 1.: 1.19, the standard ratio for early talkies.

Directed by Nomura Hiromasa and scripted by Ikeda Tadao. This was another light comedy, wherein a young, newlywed couple have their home visited and disrupted by an older and more traditional uncle. The film was a box office success and praised in the influential “Kinema Junpo” for ‘ its script, direction and tempo’.

Nakinureta Haru No Onna Yo / The Lady Who Wept in Spring, 1933 96 minutes.

Directed by Shimizu Hiroshi, script by Suyama Mitsuru, with cinematography by Sasaki Taro with music by Shimada Harutaka.

The film deals with a miner Kenji (Obinata Den) working on the remote northern island of Hokkaido and his relationships with two ‘itinerant’ women. Shimizu has a reputation, writers note

the director’s ‘affinity [with] fallen souls’, [and] his interest in vagrants and fallen women.

But he is also noted “as a master director of child actors”. A critic writes that

Shimizu Hiroshi presents all the splendour of life, embodied in the spectacle of children simply being themselves.

[His Children of the Beehive / Hachi no su no kadomotachi, 1948 is a good example seen in the UK a couple of years ago]. The older woman in the film has a young daughter who plays an important part in developments.

The film itself makes good use of some location filming and also of songs on the soundtrack.

The drama is finely developed and there is impressive ending that works with familiar tropes in a distinctive fashion.

Tonari No Yae-Chan / Our Neighbour, Miss Yae, 1934, 76 minutes.

Directed by Shimazu Yasujiro who also scripted the film. The neighbours involve a pair of sisters and a pair of brothers. The family homes and environs are depicted in a realist style and with a strong sense of irony. The between these young people, playful and sometime romantic, is delightful. Shimizu is reckoned to be a pioneer of the shomin-geki film at Shochiku. And a film like Our Neighbour offers a sense of whole family life rather than focusing on a couple of dramatic leads.

Shunkinsho Okoto To Sasuke / Okoto and Sasuke, 1935, 100 minutes.  A second film directed and scripted by Shimazu Yasujiro. This is a period drama, jidai-geki, dealing with romantic relationships rather than the world of the samurai. Okoto is played by one of Japan’s major female stars early in her career, Tanaka Kinuyo. And Sasuke is played by Saito Tatsuo. The film is adopted from a popular novel. The film deals with distinctions of age and class and one writer proposed that it offered ‘extreme male masochism’. This is strong melodrama, with a shocking climax that recalls the unconventional style of Kinugasa Teinosuke. “Kinema Junpo” produced annual ‘top tens’ of releases, and awarded this film third place.

Note: the two following films were produced at a new film company Daiichi Eigasha. The head of the news studio and many of its staff had formerly worked at Nikkatsu, the other major Japanese Studio. Its productions were funded and distributed by Shochiku and it was, effectively, a short-lived subsidiary.

Gubijinso / The Field Poppy, 1935, 73 minutes.

Directed by one of the most famous Japanese filmmakers Mizoguchi Kenji. The film is taken from a tale by a major author, Natsume Soseki, adapted by jidai-geki specialist Ito Daisuke.  The cinematography, highly praised in ‘Kinema Junpo’, is by Miki Minoru.

One critic draws comparison with Max Ophuls,

Mizoguchi tracks the romantic roundelay through the circulation of a symbolic object: a watch intended as a wedding gift.

Rather different from Madame De…, this film features the tragedy that follows on from rejection rather than infidelity. The film also uses the contradiction between the country and the town and between classes. This is a film that appears to privilege the traditional over the modern.

Ojo Ikichi / Dame Okichi, 1935, 64 minutes.

This film involved Mizoguchi Kenji as he ‘supervised’ the direction by Takashima Tasunosuke: the latter a regular scriptwriter for Mizoguchi, including for The Field Poppy. The Catalogue notes debate around the extent of Mizoguchi’s contribution. Some critics suggest that

the film is characteristic of the master both in plot and style’ … the film has some typically Mizoguchian scenes that dwell on chiaroscuro melancholy.

The plot certainly has recognisable tropes; a heroine involved with gangsters but emotionally committed to innocent younger man. Shades of The Water Magician (Taki no shiraito, 1933).

Hitori Musoko / The Only Son, 82 minutes.

This is the first sound film directed by Yasujiro Ozu. It is likely to be familiar for English-speaking audiences, as it is one of his films that have circulated here. Tsune (lida Choko), a working class widow, raises her son Ryosuke (Shin’ichi Himroi). She suffers privations in order that he can receive an education. Much of the film is taken up with a visit that she makes to her now adult son in Tokyo. The film has the recognisable hallmarks of Ozu and is a fine melodrama. Untypical it focuses on working class life. Ryu Chishu, looking incredibly young, appears as the teacher Okubo.

Ozu and his team had to produce the film at the old Kamata Studio, where lack of soundproofing hindered the filming.

The Festival programme also included a short snapshot, Nihon No Eiga Zukuri / Movie Making in Japan 1934, eight minutes. This final programme of three reached 1936.

This decisive shift was mirrored in other studios [Shochiku’s move to Ofuna and the ‘talkie film’ becoming the dominant mode], with 1936 the first year in which more sound films were produced than silents in Japan overall. Therefore, that year is a particular apt moment to end this survey of Japan’s early sound cinema.

All the features were screened on 35mm prints with English subtitles and [with the noted exception in 1.37:1, and all were provided by the Japan Film Centre in fair to pretty good prints. Nearly all of the films had had digital noise reduction applied to soundtracks. Fortunately the festival programmed in two screenings because the daytime screenings were packed. The repeats, usually in the evenings, were slightly easier in finding seats.

This was a rewarding programme to enjoy and one of the highlights of the 2014 Festival.

All quotations from the Catalogue of the 2014 Il Cinema Ritrovato.

Posted in Festivals and Conferences, Japanese Cinema | Leave a Comment »

The Golden 50s: India’s Endangered Classics

Posted by keith1942 on 9 July 2014

Raj Kapoor and Nargis in Awara, 1951.

Raj Kapoor and Nargis in Awara, 1951.

This was one of the real treats at the 2014 Il Cinema Ritrovato. The programme offered eight classics from the sub-continent that spanned the late 1940s to the end of the 1950s. The programme was curated by Shivendra Singh Dungarpur. His film, Celluloid Man (2012), a study of the Indian film archive and archivists, had limited outings in the UK last year. Shivendra writes in the Festival Catalogue:

These films represent a rich and varied cinematic heritage that is in danger of becoming extinct. 1700 silent films were made in India of which only 5 or 6 complete films remain. [These were screened at Le Giornate del Cinema Muto in 1993]. Tragically, we have lost our first sound film Alam Ara (1931, the film that established music, song and dance as the essential ingredient of popular Indian film). By 1950, India had lost seventy to eighty per cent of its films, and this has been the result of a widespread and complacent belief that film will last forever. We now realise that these eight classics too are in imminent danger of being lost to the world if urgent steps are not taken for their preservation and restoration. Screening these film is not just a reminder of a singular cinematic legacy, but one that is endangered and must be saved.

Chandralekha, 1948, black and white, in Tamil, 193 minutes.

Directed by S. S. Vasan. The script was developed by a group in the Gemini Studio Story Department. It was a Tamil production but an early example of that industry attempting a nation-wide distribution and circulated in both Tamil and Hindi versions. It is an epic film with innumerable songs and dances. Chandra is a young village girl who captures the eye of a prince. Much of the plot concerns the machinations of the prince’s younger brother. The story wanders over action and countryside, including an impressive sequence in a travelling circus. The film ends with a mammoth Drum Dance number that leads into the final battle. If you have watched documentaries on Indian cinema on British TV you will have seen a snippet of this sequence, a popular film clip. In 1948 the film played into the rhetoric of Indian Independence –

The film’s primary conflict – the struggle between the usurper and the rightful heir – would have resonated strongly with Indian audiences, leading them to register all the nuanced allusions and metaphors embodied in the film.

Awara, (The Vagabond), 1951, black and white, in Hindi, 168 minutes.

This is a film directed by and starring Raj Kapoor, one of the most popular stars in the history of Indian cinema.  Alongside him is Indian greatest female star, Nargis. And the film was produced at Kapoor’s own studio, built from the profits of his earlier successes. The film runs for 168 though there was a longer version of 193 minutes. The film, Kapoor and Nargis were also immensely popular in the Soviet Union and Arabia and China. Kapoor’s character is clearly influenced by Chaplin and he exploited the persona in a number of films.

The film follows the son of a judge, unfairly expelled from home and who grows up in the slums and is tutored by criminals. The film ends in a courtroom, where both romance and the father/son conflict are resolved.

Do Bigha Zameen (Two Acres of Land) 1953, black and white, in Hindi, 142 minutes.

The film was directed by Bimal Roy who started in the Bengali film industry and then moved to Bombay and the mainstream Hindi film.  The film shows the influence of Italian neo-realism [Roy had seen De Sica’s Ladri di Biciclette, 1948 in Calcutta). However much of the film is shot in a studio with a limited amount of location work. Even so it stood out from the contemporary popular film. What also stood out was the performance of Bairaj Sahni as the central character Shambu. He is the victim of an exploitative landlord and ends up in the city struggling to find work and earn a living. The Catalogue notes that:

Audiences around the country greeted it with stunned silence. There was no boisterous acclaim, none of the celebratory music that follows the news of a film becoming a box-office success. It was an acknowledgement that a new kind of cinema had emerged: a cinema in the popular mode, with the ring of truth.

Pyaasa (The Thirsty One) 1957, black and white, in Hindi, 143 minutes.

The film was directed by Guru Dutt. That two of his films were included in the programme gives an idea of his status in Indian film. Dutt also stars as the hero Vijay, and plays opposite another major star Waheeda Rehman as Meena. The music is by a major composer of the period S. D. Burman. Their import is spelt out in the Catalogue:

In Pyaasa Guru Dutt disregarded the conventions of Indian cinema regarding songs. He could use them in fragmentary form or as an extension of dialogue, while at other times, they went beyond the standard length.

Vijay is a poet who

encounters greed and philistinism among the gatekeepers of society, and compassion among its outcasts.

[including Meena].

Mother India 1957, in colour, in Hindi, 172 minutes.

The film is often referred to as India’s Gone With the Wind. This comparison is misplaced, though both films are the most famous and popular examples of their two respective studio systems. Where the Selznick film recycles a reactionary representation of the US Civil War the Hindi film, directed by Mehboob Khan, dramatises in populist terms the class conflict and exploitation involving India’s peasant millions. This is another epic with Nargis in her greatest role as Radha, village girl, wife, mother, widow and finally the matriarch of the title.  The film is crammed with melodrama and song and filmed in evocative colour. The Catalogue notes that Nargis’ Radha

combines the characteristics of both Mother Courage and Mother Earth. Through her we traverse the epic journey of a country from darkness to light.

The filmmaker Mehboob Kahn, like the Government headed by Nehru, was strongly influenced by the Soviet model. In one glorious dance number the peasants in the fields combine in the form of a hammer and sickle.

Ajantrik (Pathetic Fallacy) 1957, black and white, in Bengali, 102 minutes.

This was the second feature of Ritwik Ghatak, a Bengali filmmaker. Ghatak’s films, whilst observing some of the conventions of popular cinema, fall outside the mainstream. He is a key figure in the development of what became known as the ‘parallel’ or New Indian Cinema. In this film

Literally, the tile Ajantrik extends the word ‘jantrik’ (mechanical) to suggests its antithesis.

The plot, which follows an unconventional structure, concerns a taxi-driver Bimal and his vehicle, a battered old Chevrolet, called Jagaddal. Ghatak himself commented on the film re the idea of the machine:

It is something that is alien. [T]his apathy may be due to the fact that all change and the very introduction of the machine age was the handiwork of foreign overlords.

(Quoted in Encyclopaedia of Indian Cinema by Ashish Rajadhyaksha and Paul Willemen, BFI 1994). Those authors add that the film suggests that

the forces driving the speed of change disregard and thus destroy the slower, more human tempo at which people adopt and incorporate change into their networks of social relations.

Madhumati, 1958, black and white, in Hindi, 149 minutes.

This was the second film directed by Bimal Roy in the programme, and was scripted by Ritwik Ghatak. It features one of the popular stars of the period Dilip Kumar as Anand. The plot involves a haunted mansion, ghosts and reincarnation. The film falls within a genre known as Indian Gothic – which will give some sense of its style and atmosphere. The film was immensely popular and weaves the generic tale into a tapestry of songs, dances, folk-style humour and traditional tropes.

Kaagaz Ke Phool (Paper Flowers), 1959, black and white CinemaScope, in Hindi, 144 minutes.

This was the last film on which Guru Dutt put his name as director. It is a doomed tale of a successful filmmaker whose career goes into decline when his personal life goes awry. There is a strong element of autobiography in the film: Dutt committed suicide in 1964, aged only 39. Dutt plays the lead character Suresh, whilst his favoured actress Waheeda Rehman plays Shanti.

The music is by S. D. Burman, though the songs and dances are not integrated into the film story as well as in the earlier Pyaasa. What is most memorable about the film is the cinematography by V. K. Murthy. This was the first occasion that I was able to see a film print in the full widescreen format; earlier screenings had been cropped to 1.37:1. This is a film of shadows, which are used in an exemplary fashion. The chiaroscuro lighting in many of the studio sequences is beautifully done. Dutt and Murthy also have a mastery of the crane shot, with one striking flowing camera movement during the climatic sequence of the film.

The screenings were preceded by Indian Newsreels of the period, some of more interest than others. The films were mainly screened in 35mm prints, the majority from the National Archive of India. Unfortunately three films were screened from Blu-Ray discs, not a format that could do justice to these great films. When there were not subtitles on the print digital titles were projected in both English and Italian. We did miss the lyrics for several songs in this way.

Shivendra Sing Dungarpur is a founder member, along with some illustrious names from the Indian film Industry, of the Film Heritage Foundation. This foundation aims to campaign for the restoration and preservation of the Indian film heritage. Many of these great classic films from the sub-continent are only in video formats in the UK – so I applaud their intent. A Website for the Foundation is under construction and will be found when uploaded at – www.filmheritagefoundation.co.in

 

Posted in Bengali Cinema, Festivals and Conferences, Hindi Cinema – Bollywood, Indian Cinema, Tamil Cinema | Leave a Comment »

Of Time and the City revisited

Posted by keith1942 on 31 May 2014

online poster

online poster

This screening took place at the Hyde Park Cinema and was one in a series of films organised with The Culture Vulture, celebrating 100 years of the Leeds Society of Architecture. The film was introduced by Ronnie Hughes who authors the ‘A Sense of Place’ Blog. The film came out in the year that Liverpool celebrated its status as City of Culture (2008), a title that bought European funds into the city. Ronnie is a life-long Liverpudlian who ‘walks round the city regularly’ and who believes that cities need to be loved by their people. The film, directed by Terence Davies, is a poem or eulogy to the city by a filmmaker who was born and raised in the city but who has not lived there for some considerable time. As Ronnie noted, city lovers has their sacred places and the film presents us with those of Terence Davies.

The film is composed of a wealth of archive footage accompanied by music and a commentary by Terence Davies. The film footage has been researched by archivist Jim Anderson. He performed a similar role for Ken Loach’s The Spirit of ’45, and his results for this film speak just as eloquently as they did for Ken Loach’s project.

The music includes popular songs from the 1940s and 1950s, but predominantly one hears classical music, especially Davies’ beloved Mahler. The commentary stands out because Davies no longer retains any semblance of a Liverpool accent. Ronnie Hughes pointed out that in his youth Davies organised his own elocution lessons from Newsreels and the BBC Home Service, acquiring a pronounced ‘received pronunciation’ of the period.

Davies uses poetry frequently in the commentary, and like the music, much of it is from ‘high culture’. This is interspersed with his own comments on his memories and experiences of the city. These are often best described as choleric: [the S&S review makes a comparison with Philip Larkin]. There is little sense of empathy in much of this. There are a few inserts of voices of ordinary people from the past. And the archival extracts also offer a sense of empathy for the people of the city, but one strains to find this in Davies’ own voice.

The film moves over time and there is some chronology in this, but there is also much cutting between periods. This is not a history but a journey through a collection of memories. Towards the end we get film of the contemporary city and its people. Starting with children this has a warmer and slightly less pessimistic feel.

The film opens with shots inside an old cinema and this is soon followed by shots inside several churches. These are the two abiding images of Davies childhood seen in his other films – cinema and religion. He tells us later that he has become an atheist, yet religion seems to still loom large in his life. He also later came out as gay. One senses that the repression of the times and of religion has left a large mark on the filmmaker. Yet surprisingly in this film and in some of his features it is these early years that loom largest. And it is only in the 1940s and 1950s that he seems to have any feel for popular culture – something that is powerfully important in the history of Liverpool.

I was concerned about the treatment of the archive footage in the film. The sources seem to be 35mm, 16mm, possibly 9mm or Super 8 and even DVD. The early film has been cropped or at some points stretched to fit the 1.78:1frame. And the smaller formats appear to have been blown up so that the grain is extremely noticeable. The film is partly funded by the BBC, so some of this is presumably down to the demands of television. Whilst this is justified for the occasional pan across an image and for the rostrum work, it does rob much of the footage of its sense of authenticity.

This was the second time that I have seen the film at a cinema. But my impression remained the same: of a rather bitter portrait which lacked empathy. There is no sense of the famed scouse humour, or of the resilience that must have enabled the city’s people to survive and adapt through the years of extreme hardship. Both those qualities can be found in the interviews with Liverpudlians that grace Ken Loach’s The Spirit of ’45 [though that film has serious political problems].

There was a Q & A following the screening. A couple of people seemed fairly impressed with the film. I raised my problems with the film. Ronnie remembered being strongly moved when the film was premiered. He was especially struck by the footage of the city and the grand music that often accompanied this. However, he admitted that there was a sense that Davies had left the city for years and then returned. It seems that the film did not have a general run in Liverpool, just special screenings. Ronnie had met people who had not seen the film, partly because it sounded like an art movie.

Ronnie Hughes added that he would like to make a film using the footage but with different sound, music and commentary. Apart from the comparison with Ken Loach I also thought of other filmmakers. The film is extremely well edited by Liza Ryan-Carter. Much of this is effectively montage. However, the blend is closer to the abstract treatment in Walter Ruttmann’s Berlin: Symphony of a Great City (Berlin: die Symphonie der Grosstadt, 1927) than to a documentary with a greater feel of humanity such as Man with a Movie Camera (Chevolek a kinapparatom, 1929). Still, it was good to have the opportunity to see the film again and in the context of a very interesting discussion. Note, my colleagues seem to have rather different views on the film.

Posted in British Cinema, Documentary | Leave a Comment »

The Italian Straw Hat (Un Chapeau de paille d’Italie, René Clair, France 1927)

Posted by keith1942 on 10 May 2014

Italian still 2

This is one of the classics of French cinema and one of the best films directed by René Clair. It was produced by Alexander Kamenka for Films Albatros at their Montreuil Studio. Films Albatros had started out as a film company of Russian émigrés, including the star actor Ivan Mosjoukine. However most of the émigrés had left Albatros for a new studio at Billancourt. Albatros had been in the forefront of French productions, but now it had to rebuild its success, relying on a series of comedy adaptation. The young René Clair turned in one hit, La Proie du vent (1927) and followed it up with this adaptation and updating of a famous French farce.

He was supported by an excellent cast and production team. The sets by Lazare Meerson and cinematography by Maurice Desfassiaux and Nicolas Roudakoff are all impressive. Most of the film, including many of the fine exteriors, were shot at the studio.

The film’s continued status is confirmed by it being included in Ian Christie’s The Peak of Silent Cinema:

René Clair may have become the forgotten man of classic French cinema, despite a prolific career that stretched from the dada short Entr’acte (1924) through the first French musicals of the early 30s, and up to the mid-1960s Yet his command of sophisticated comedy, both silent and sound, was second to none; and in this inventive adaptation of a vintage farce he offered a spirited alternative to the dominance of Hollywood comedy, at a time when both the French avant-garde and mainstream cinema had reached an impasse. Clair’s solution, in agreeing to film Eugene Labiche’s vintage stage play, was to update it to the belle epoque of 1895 and to shoot it with the utmost simplicity, in the style of early film. Labiche’s play was always a satire on petit bourgeois pretension, with the nurseryman as keen that his daughter should marry a ‘gentleman of leisure’ as Ferdinand is to secure his future. Everything that gets in the way of the wedding represents a threat to the social order that is being confirmed; and in this case most of the obstacles are objects, signs of property and status, which constantly threaten to get out of hand.

And Clair is equally alert to the satirical undercurrent, without ever losing sight of what Henri Bergson termed the “snowball effect… as an object rolls through the play collecting incidents as it goes”. The surrealists, who hated avant-garde pretension, saw that this was no mere

literary adaptation. With its puppet-like characters trapped in their roles, and decor that threatens to engulf them, it achieves the dream-like quality that surrealism prized­ while also remaining a thoroughly civilised, scathing and completely French comedy.

Sight & Sound November 2013

You can catch the film at the National Media Museum on Sunday May 18th with a live piano accompaniment by Darius Battiwalla.

Posted in Comedies, Films for children, French Cinema, Silent Era | Tagged: | Leave a Comment »

The British Film Institute review

Posted by keith1942 on 23 April 2014

bfi-filmforever

The Department for Culture, Media and Sport is conducting a review of the BFI, this happens every three years. There is a window for public comment and consultation, open until April 28th. I thought some readers might be interested in the comments that I have sent in.

To The Secretary of State

I am writing to you with comments for the Triennial Review being undertaken with regard to the British Film Institute. First of all I wanted to express concerns about the publicising of the review. I only found out about it when a colleague sent me a link to the Department WebPages. I looked on the BFI WebPages – there is information there but you don’t find it be entering ‘Triennial’ or ‘Review’ in the search function. You have to track it down.

Regarding the Board of Governors the BFI should now review as promised its new rules for the conduct of Member Governor Elections. These were introduced about three years ago and have resulted in three failed polls and finally, in 2013, in the temporary (or permanent?) removal of one of the two Member Governor posts. At the present time the Board has given no indication as to what will happen when the one remaining “regional” Member Governor’s term expires this September. Members are justifiably concerned that their views are neither heard nor properly represented.

Here too the BFI has not given enough attention to providing information. They regularly issue Press Releases when new Governors are appointed. There seem to have been no Press Releases about the removal of a Member Governor Post. And the only source which provides complete information on this are the Minutes. A notice posted on the WebPages does not clearly explain what the Governors decided

There are also serious problems regarding BFI membership. The benefits of membership have been steadily reduced over the years and now it is only relevant to people with easy access to London. Like other voters I am able to be involved as a subscriber to Sight & Sound. However, we are not able to access the members’ pages on the BFI Website: and the only alternative source of information is a notice board at the National Film Theatres: in other words you need to be in or visit London. The BFI needs a membership system that is relevant to people all over the UK, as it funding comes from all over the UK.

The Board of Governors seems to be almost entirely composed of people who live and work in London. And presumably this is true of most of the BFI staff. This seems to have a negative impact on the provision outside of London in the Regions. To give a specific example: when the Hitchcock silent films were restored with new prints the circular from the BFI advertised both 35 mm prints and DCPs. However, in West Yorkshire exhibitors who have attempted to screen 35mm rather than digital have not been able to obtain prints for this. Yet all nine of these new prints were shipped to Italy for a Festival there. The audience were told that the BFI ‘really wanted to screen the films on 35 mm at the Festival.’ They do not seem to have the same interest for the audiences whose taxation pays for most of the resources of the Institute and the Archives.

I think proper representation of members on the Board of Governors and a more representative membership would be the best way to address the concerns I have presented.

Yours sincerely,

Keith Withall

Of course, opinions about how effective such a consultation is will vary. However, given that the Management and Governors of the BFI display little interest in the views of the ordinary punters who cough up the cash, it is ‘worth a shout’.

Posted in BFI | Leave a Comment »

Triennial Review for the British Film Institute

Posted by keith1942 on 6 April 2014

thCAK66OC4

The online notice below appeared on the bfi and DCMS WebPages on March 28th. However, I only found out when Mark Newell kindly emailed me with the information. This does seem rather typical of the bfi and government consultations. There has not exactly been a flurry of information or publicity around this. I have not found anything regarding this in Sight & Sound, which one would suppose was an obvious place to catch the attention of people interested in the work of the bfi. Now there remain only just on three weeks to send in comments. However, it does provide an opportunity to feed in comments, suggestions and complaints about this important film institution.‏

The Department for Culture, Media and Sport has launched a triennial review of the BFI.

It is a standard requirement by the Cabinet Office for all Government departments to review their agencies and non-departmental public bodies (NDPBs) at least once every three years to ensure that they are still needed and are complying with principles of good corporate governance.

The aim of this review of the BFI is two-fold:

  • Stage one: to examine whether there is a continuing public need for all functions performed by the BFI and if so, to determine if the BFI should deliver them or if there is an alternative delivery model.
  • Stage two: to look at the control and governance of the BFI to make sure we are complying with recognised governance principles and delivering our functions effectively and efficiently.

If you would like to take part in this review you can do so by responding to an online questionnaire.  The questionnaire will remain online for four weeks, starting on Friday 28 March and finishing on Monday 28 April. The review team expects to report in the summer.

For more information about Triennial Reviews and the process, visit the Government Services website:

Ways to respond:

Respond online          or         email to:

BFI Triennial Review @culture.gsi.gov.uk

Write to:

Department for Culture, Media & Sport
100 Parliament Street
London
SW1A 2BQ

Mark, with great promptness, has already sent in comments. He kindly agreed to let this blog reproduce his letter. He has clearly raised some important and central issues about the bfi. Hopefully our readers will be stimulated to follow his example. I have looked over the questionnaire on the DCMS site – letters would be better! Anyway,  I suspect readers will have other key issues to add. Given the paucity of information it would be a good idea to pass this information on to other interested parties. I should also note that the next meeting of the Board of Governors is fixed for April 29th: presumably to discuss the review among other matters. As Roy posted they have added more metropolitan members of the establishment to their number. However, according to the November and January minutes (posted on the bfi WebPages) they have not given any more thought to the reduction in Member Governors.

 The Rt. Hon. Maria Miller, M.P.

Secretary of State               
Department for Culture, Media and Sport
100 Parliament Street
London SW1A 2BQ
Dear Maria Miller,
The British Film Institute
The BFI should now review as promised its new rules for the conduct of Member Governor Elections. These were introduced about three years ago and have resulted in three failed polls and finally, in 2013, in the temporary (or permanent?) removal of one of the two Member Governor posts. At the present time the Board has given no indication as to what will happen when the one remaining “regional” Member Governor’s term expires this September. Members are justifiably concerned that their views are neither heard nor properly represented.
Film enthusiasts subscribe to the BFI Southbank’s monthly guide in the main to see films that cannot be viewed elsewhere. One of the more popular themes is Archive film. In 2013 this programme strand was drastically cut to enable work to be carried out on digitisation. It should be restored as soon as possible. Useful as the BFI Player and the Mediatheque are, they’re no substitute for seeing films on the big screen with an audience.
Yours sincerely,
Mark Newell
PS a friend emailed me and it seems that one can encounter problems both with the ‘online response’ and with the ‘questionnaire’.

Posted in BFI | Leave a Comment »

Kinugasa Teinosuke

Posted by keith1942 on 12 March 2014

Yoshiwara in Crossways

Yoshiwara in Crossways

Kinugasa worked as a director in the Japanese film industry from 1920 to 1966. His main work was at the Shochiku and Daiei Studios. He had started in films acting as an oyama – a male actor impersonating in women’s roles. His 1953 film Gate of Hell (Jigokumon) won both the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival and an Academy Award for Best Colour Costume Design and a Special Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Picture. But Kinugasa is most famous for two very distinctive films late in the silent era.

A Page of Madness (Kurita ippèji, 1926) is an avant-garde film with striking use of montage and of the expressionist use of chiaroscuro. The plot concerns an old man who works in an insane asylum in order to be near to his wife who is an inmate. However, the action is presented in an elliptical fashion and without any title cards. The film works in an open and fragmentary manner and [as with the inmates] moving between reality and illusion. The film was almost totally innovatory in the Japanese cinema of the time. However, its challenging form did not appeal to audiences and the film was believed lost until its rediscovery in the 1970s. It now holds place as a distinctive classic of Japanese film.

Kinugasa’s 1928 film Crossroads (also Crossways / Jujiro) combines the technical experimentation of the earlier film with a far more accessible plot. Set in the C18th it concerns a young man who is smitten with the charms of a geisha. She prefers his rival though she also exploits the young innocent. A fight leads to his temporary blindness. His sister sacrifices herself to obtain treatment for her brother. The melodrama continues to a violent and tragic resolution.

The sister who sacrifices herself for her brother is a staple of Japanese culture, notably in the films of Mizoguchi Kenji.

The use of expressionist chiaroscuro in the film both dramatises the plight of the brother and the oppressive situation of the sister. Whilst the montage, combined with a use of Grand Guignol reminiscent of Eisenstein, dramatises the exploitative and decadent character of the milieu of Yoshiwara, the area of debauchery and prostitution.

The later film falls into the period characterised as ‘late silents’; the use of synchronous sounds in commercial features having arrived in the USA in 1927. However, in Japan [along with several other East Asian countries] the use of sound was delayed for several years. This was partly economic, because of the capital cost involved, including the wiring of exhibition venues. But there was a particular factor in Japanese cinema, the power of the benshi, who provided voiceover and commentary for silent films. The benshi were one reason why Japanese film came late to the use of title cards. There were benshi strikes against the introduction of sound in 1932. The earliest surviving indigenous sound film in Japan is The Speech of Prime Minister Tanaka (Seiyukai Sosia Tanaka Giichi-shi Enzetsu, 1928). Sound features appeared in 1930, one of the earliest surviving films is by Mizoguchi Kenji, Hometown (Fujiwara Yoshie no Furosato). Kinugasa directed the first sound version of The Loyal 47 Ronin (Chūshingura) in 1932. It was only in 1935 that the production of sound films in Japan exceeded that of silents. And the latter type of film was still made a couple of years later.

There is an opportunity to see Crossways in a reasonably good 35mm print at the National Media Museum on Sunday March 16th. And there will be a live piano accompaniment by Darius Battiwalla.

Note, it is possible that the 35mm print will not be available and the screening will have to use some other format.

Posted in Japanese Cinema, Silent Era | Leave a Comment »

 
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 493 other followers

%d bloggers like this: