Documentary News Letter (1944-1945)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

50 DOCUMENTARY NEWS LETTER DOCUMENTARY GOES TO TOWN For fifteen years the ugly duckling of the cinema world, the social documentary has now become "box-office". Most people have noticed the increase in the number of studio-produced films with a markedly sociological flavour in their setting or story. They have grown accustomed also to seeing in the cinema, albeit infrequently, short films on social organisation made in obedience to the needs of wartime public information. These are not to be confused with the realistic combat films — documentaries like Target for Tonight, Desert Victory, True Glory and — recently — Theirs is the Glory. The factual story of these films was already high-drama, presenting little box-office problem provided the technical execution was credible and of high quality. No, the point for comment is that films which tackle a serious social problem now excite public interest. Following the wide box-office success of World of Plenty another film has recently thrown this development into greater prominence. The Way We Live has made its mark partly because, as even all the critics are agreed, it is a good film. The film has a story — or rather two stories ; it follows the day-to-day life of a Plymouth family — father, mother and three daughters — in their search for a decent home. The second story, intertwined neatly with the first, is that of a journalist in search of material on "town-planning"'. Why does this film in particular spotlight this new development, the intrusion of serious subject-matter on to the entertainment screens of Britain? Let's deal with less important, yet valid, reasons first. There was a certain amount of "build-up" publicity while the film was in production; it was well handled, some of it coming through the pages of Picture Post. Secondly, the film critics got on to a rumour that the film was not going to be distributed. Baseless or no, they took no chance and demanded to see it. They liked the film and said it was a disgrace to the trade if it were not shown. This adventitious publicity brought the film well in the public eye. Thirdly, it was made by a young woman, Jill Craigie, whose second film-direction job it was. A Commercial Venture What is of real interest, however, about this latest flight of documentary on to the starry screen, is that it was made within commercial terms of reference; it came from the studio world, from technicians and finance hitherto outside the documentary group. And it was intended — presumably — that it should bring back cash from the box-office. Most previous documentary films which have been theatrically released have been made under outside sponsorship, that is to say, the production unit had a contract for making a given film for some organisation, Government or commercial group, interested in getting a film story told about its place in the social scheme. Such a film as this, for example, might well have been paid for by Plymouth City Council. But in this case it was paid for by Mr. Rank. Moreover most such documentary films have relied upon part of their screen space coming eventually from non-theatrical release ; there — whether or no they were a box-office success and got entertainment screen space — they would have a chance of putting over their message to audiences who came more for instruction than entertainment. How does this studio-made, studio-financed documentary trim its sails to make the box-office harbour? Or does it alter its entire rig in the attempt? About it there is, first, a general impression of lightness, hitherto not often linked with the documentary style. The film doesn't have at you with a social message. Just when it seems an audience of Plymouth citizens is going to play its serious democratic role and listen to a film-illustrated lecture by Professor Abercrombie, we come upon an old man snoring; a little later upon the whispered question, unexpected but human. "When do the blooming pubs open?" These people voice any resentment the audience may feel at being tricked into having a lecture ; yet they also make prominent the attentiveness of most of the lecture audience. Secondly, its inspiration comes from being shot where the people live. This helps to ensure its validity as a social documentary. (Though we have called the film "studio-made", this is not to imply that it was shot in a film studio. It was, however, financed, and the organisational aspects of its making were handled, as for a studiotype film.) Particular interest centres on Abercrombie's lecture for (as in The Forgotten Village) the technique of "film within film" is used to put across serious information — or at all events to conjure up feelings well-disposed to serious information ; this within the framework of a story which sets out to give, not a factual, so much as a warm and human picture of its subject. Fact or Feeling? Typical of the film's style is the sequence which pictures one of the social problems besetting the inadequately housed. The second daughter of the family of the story is a rather flighty young girl, beginning to assert herself with the precocity of adolescence. Her two main interests — unendearing, but perhaps apt for an audience in entertainment mood — are her appearance, and boys. Going out to Plymouth Hoe to meet her girl friend, because there is no scope near "home" for her leisure needs, she arrives a little early. While the couples dance in the open air, she waits alone. She has, of course, the opportunity of refusing a "conventional" approach from a British sailor, but is effectively picked up by an American. Her inner thoughts and reactions to the situation came over thoughtwhispered monologue : "1 really shouldn't ; but he is good looking. Hope none of mother's friends are watching us ; and he dances well." Now this is one way of putting over the social message of Pick-up Girl. It is the opposite of the statistical method — "67 per cent of cases of juveniles brought before the magistrates in Blackhampton were from areas where the average habitation density was 2-6 persons per room". The latter method gives us facts we can handle; the former gives us a feeling about the things these facts mean — and because they then impinge upon us deeply, they create the will to do something about it. But we don't know what to do until we have facts. So for completeness both styles of presenting the message should be used. If The Way We Live had been able to cope with both styles it would have been a masterpiece. It is in fact a very good film. For it and for the others which are coming in future years, the hard spade work of the old hands of the documentary school must have credit. Their efforts — theatrical successes like Night Mail, North Sea, The Harvest Shall Come, World of Plenty, Western Approaches — at breaking down the distributors' apathy and prejudice helped to familiarise the cinema public with the documentary idea and thus laid the foundations. Building upon these, Jill Craigie and her team have produced a praiseworthy film which will probably go a little further in getting home to an entertainment audience. And let us not forget the money (a cost four times that of a "normal" documentary of equivalent length is quoted) and the enterprise which fostered it. Credit to J. Arthur Rank. Optimists have in earlier years seen evidence that the trade might be taking its public responsibilities, as well as its box-office returns, in serious vein ; it proved slender evidence. But any new flicker of interest in this direction is to be welcomed. Documentary is going to town. But make no mistake — it has not got there vet!