Documentary News Letter (1947-1949)

DOC UMENTAR1 I II M M \\ s 93 Why Should Truth Go Dowdy? We would remind readers that views expressed in any unsigned article are not necessarily those of the Board— Ed. i saw a documentary film the other night. Or it may have been a feature or a feature-documentary. . . . But don't let's start that yet. Anyway, it was in a proper cinema with usherettes and a Gents so it was probably a feature. It was called Hamlet, by William Shakespeare (working from a Report, of course). And it had quite a lot of social content for a feature, so it will be in order for am documentary person to go and see it. Film Centre's been so that should be quite all right. In fact, anybody can go — even the public. Don't let that disturb you. There is nothing in it to offend the intellect. Indeed, there is one potential documentarian in the cast. His name is Polonius. I think. But the name doesn't matter. You'll be sure to spot him. Don't start cheering him, nobody else does; whatever you may think, you can take it from me, he is not the hero. When Hamlet asked him what the players were capable of, he sounded exactly like a Senior Documentarian (vintage 32) explaining to a suspicious sponsor what his boys could do : Tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragicalcomical-historical-pastoral. Seneca cannot be too heavy nor Plautus too light.' It's the sub-divisions that, like Charlie Chester,* ring that bell. 'Documentary . . . Feature . . . documentary-feature . . . featuredocumentary . . . a-feature-hlm-with-a-documentary-background . . . a-fictional-film-usingreal-peoplewith -some-actors-dealingwith -a properly -registered -and-approved-social-probblem achieving-a-creative interpretation of reality-calculated-to-make-peace-exciting (withsome-dialogue).' You want to watch that kind of thing. Some people can't follow you. If you persist, you'll find yourselves one of these days having to explain to a slightly sceptical teachers' conference the exact difference between a documentarystrip-tease and a feature-film-strip. What's more, I believe some of you could do it, too. But it's no good. boys. The time has come to talk of many things and it would be as well to give them a name each. And you can sort yourselves out in the process. The cause of all the worried frowns is that word documentary. Throw away the old umbrella, it's got holes in it. And anyway, it's not raining half as hard as you think. It's just the noise on the roof. Go and do a report on yourselves and then. preferably, a treatment. Find out exactly what you are. I'll start you off. You're a tot ial problem. . . . There' Happy? Well, take it up from there; with your training, it should be ea And when you've finished your Report do vou know whai you'll find? I'll tell you: that you're good fellows, with the right roots; hut you knew that. But you'll also find oul mi your reI port is based on an honest investigation) •A well-known low-brow comedian of the day. whether you are a teachei oi .1 pamphleteei or maybe (just maybe) a creative artist. But whatever you are be proud of it. Teachers, lecturers, playwrights, are all good things to be. If you find, for example, that alter all, you're really a technical journalist — well, all right. You've got a job to do but don't kid yourself you're a dramatist; you may be a damned good teacher — but that doesn't make you an artist, lust decide. Now teachers and dramatists (good ones) have much in common. They both have an active interest in people and a desire to help. In the great big world outside Soho Square such people get on quite well with one another. There's no confusion. So what's the trouble with you? It's simple. It's that little word film. You've been messing about with bits of it for so long that you've forgotten what it is (if you ever knew). Film is rolls of celluloid manufactured usually by Kodak and on it you can put anything from pornography to prayer. There's nothing fundamentally new about the mental process involved. There's been a stuff called paper flapping round the universe for a long time now and it's been used for a multitude of purposes. In this respect, as a matter of fact, it's better than film. So let's take a book and call it The Virgin's Delight with a nice, crude cover sealed in cellophane to stop you reading it without buying it idon't snigger— I'll bet you've been caught that way, too). Where will you find it? Where it belongs — on the kerb, next to the gutter. But Shakespeare, Johnson, Pope. Keats and all the rest of them are in the public library. They may not be read but they're there — respectable. bound in leather, designed to last. And they've been there a long time. They're the acknowledged tops. You can work downwards if you like, but at least you've got something to show you how far you're slipping. In the slow old days when monks made books by hand, only the good was worth the trouble. There v money in it. Then came the rotary printing press and fortuitously a semi-literate public 'waiting' as llarmsworth put it with their pennies in their hands'. And the trouble started. Now take films. The trouble with films is (a) they're so damned costly, (b) there's so much pompous fiddle-faddle before vou can say what's on your mind (which makes it an ideal medium for those who haven't much to say anyway) and (c) they were invented so late in the day. For make no mistake, had they been invented when they should, you'd have found Brother Anselm in his cut! patiently piecing together his record foi the vaults of posterity, his hahn reeking te and the light from the editola gleaming chastely on his tonsure. \s it is. (here are no lattci-dav saints in \\ irdoui Street ["hey're in Soho S Now take it easv I bat's the biggest compli ment I'm likely to pay you. Until you came along, the pimps and panders had it all their own way; nicely tied up with jobs for the boys. They were outside society and soaking it hard. Occasionally, they made some good pictures, responsible pictures. If you get a monkey at a typewriter (no cracks, please) one day you'll get the Lord's Prayer . . . you know the principle. It isn't even that the boys object to culture; they'd go in for it tomorrow in a big way if they were convinced it paid. Vou believe in it whether it pays or not. And there's the rub (I told you I'd been to Hamlet). Yet you. with good on your side, have made some bad pictures, real topof-the-class stinkers. But we'll forgive you. After all, you were the first that ever burst into that sea of hooey. So remember; whether they're features or er . . . 'documentaries' (well, you know what I mean), whether they come in ten reels or two. whether they're made in Wardour Street or Soho Square, whether they've got stories or whether they haven't — the only real difference between you and the boys is motive. (It used to be anyway, but I'm worried about some of you.) Get that motive clear and then decide in which field it's going to motivate you. But don't mix the breeds. You were the first then, I say, to dare to state that film could be used for other things. And because you were reactionaries, you had to state it raw. You had to wear a halo in selfdefence. You were the original monks of the film business. Now for God's sake get out of that habit -and throw away the sandals while you're about it. Get rid of the sack-cloth and ashes. 'Going to get my old tuxedo pressed, Going to sew some buttons on my vest. For tonight I'm going to look my best. . . .' You know the old song? Here's another verse adapted for the occasion: 'Going to get the barber slick my hair. Got to get myself to Leicester Square, For tonight I've got my premiere. . . .' It makes you think, doesn't it? For look. Showmanship, slickness, spit-andpolish are not evil things. It's just that they've usually been the prerogative (in cinema particularly) of the people who have dubious things to say. lake it from them. Why should truth, sincerity and human dignity go dowdy? As long as you let it. that bust you see up there on the hoarding will be a slightly different contour from the one in the public library. You're bookish boys, but in the halls of literature the battle is won. indeed, was never really waged, The Virgin's Delight is in the gutter as I've told \oy\. But its celluloid equivalent is up (here m lights land celluloid's your business), Don't write letters to each other about it. Get I bul you'll have to change yout I or. speaking of lights, remember Chester ►4)