Film and TV Technician (1957)

December 1957 FILM & TV TECHNICIAN 167 ON BEING DEDICATED TO FILMS I HAVE been dedicated to films practically all my grown-up life. I threw in my lot with the cinema in its comparatively early days, when pay was low and one had to fight alone against snobs and Philistines for the recognition of this new art. The cinema then was not only ignored or even despised by the intelligentsia, but Wardour Street and the studio chiefs were distrustful of workers whom they regarded as "educated". (How different things became in this respect some years later when at certain studios one could hardly get a job without an Old Etonian tie and a university education — though, as an alternative, titled relatives would help more than somewhat!) Pioneers Shortly after I had committed myself to films, there was quite a flow of dedicated men into our studios. That was in the midtwenties, when the first Film Society was formed, when we were fighting for the first Film Quota legislation (with its vital requirement for Renters to sponsor a quota of British productions) and when Ivor Montagu and I were active with our film-editing company, supplying British studios with our hand-picked colleagues, all of whom were dedicated pioneers and included such men as Ian Dalrymple, Frank Wells, Angus MacPhail, Jock Orton, Tod Rich, Michael Hankinson and Sergei Nolbandov. Even in those days, I realised that there were degrees of dedication and that one could give one's devotion to films in different ways. Some of my associates lived entirely in a world of films, going to see movies every night, travelling considerable distances to track down a film they had missed, noting cinematic tricks and dramatic twists, and storing their impressions for future use. Although the enthusiasm of these devotees was inspiring and their knowledge of trends and experiments in film production kept us informed, their suggestions at work were derived from other films, rather than from life. I am reminded of William Archer's advice to playwrights, " Let your inspiration come from life, not from the theatre." This is a risk we also run when we get in the swim as directors, associate-producers, script-writers and others in important key posi By ADRIAN BR UN EL tions, and we become involved in a succession of first nights, film parties, Savoy Grill suppers, Caprice luncheons and mixing only with other people in the show business, dashing from studios to these occasions in our fast cars and losing touch with the realities Adrian Brunei with his l!tl!) model Debrie camera of life, which is regrettable since these people set the tone for our productions. There are many ways in which one can be dedicated to films. There is the careerist, whose medium is film. He is often somewhat more dedicated to himself than to the cinema and is generally a diplomat, a good mixer with important but inferior people and a ruthless handler of his financial backers, yet in many cases he is an asset to films and the best of this category are amongst the world's outstanding movie-makers. Many film technicians are dedicated men and women — until ambition leads them to become directors ! While they were good or very good script-writers, cameramen, art-directors or editors, for example, they were dedicated to their chosen tasks as well as to the cinema and were creative filmmakers in production teams, even though individualists. Then the glamour of being headman on the studio floor or the inner conviction that they could do better than the welder-in-chief with whom they worked, gets hold of them. Occasionally their hunch is right and their change of position is justified, but too often they lack something, such as a forcefulness in their dealings with their Wardour Street bosses, and so, in the battle for assignments and treatments, they temporise, their dedicated and missionary principles dwindle and they end up cynical and disillusioned hacks, and as a result we lose keen and first-rate writers, cameramen, art-directors or editors. " Don't Lose Touch " it is because I have seen this happen that I have begged such friends of mine when embarking on careers as directors not to lose touch with their old techniques, so that if they are not the successes they hoped to be as directors, they could still maintain pride of achievement in their previous jobs and thus remain dedicated to films, instead of becoming cynical and disillusioned. I am reminded of my own experience. As a director I was always thoroughly at home in the job, working with artists and technicians, but I was not tough enough in the constant battle with my employers. I would have been far happier had I kept in touch with the market for editors, alternating assignments to direct with those to edit. I would have been more successful, too, if I had pursued such a policy, for I never reached a position where I could pick and choose my stories or my employers; (continued on page 168)