You Need a Shot of Michael Powell

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I have so much love for the man. His work, from the '30s all the way to the '70s is a joy, and his collaboration with Emeric Pressburger is pretty unique in World Cinema. Michael Powell was/is one of the most innovative visual stylists in the history of film. I could name his camera obscura in A Matter of Life and Death, his awesome subjective camera shots of motorcycles in more than one film, the surrealistic entirety of The Red Shoes, the way he and his partner made an anti-war film in the middle of WWII (The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp), which while extremely patriotic is not pro-war in the slightest. Then, I could mention one of Brenda's all-time fave films, I Know Where I'm Going!, a very feminist romantic comedy made over 60 years ago, which should easily reduce you to tears. That's another thing Powell has going for him; he can excite you, make you laugh, blow your mind, and then make you cry over the simplest, human thing, all in a span of five minutes or less. He is a Master. (Michael Powell Lives!)

I'll try to add some things, as time goes on, at least if people seem interested. Powell is just about on the same level as Hitchcock and David Lean for me. My faves are:




A Matter of Life and Death



The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp

and


The Red Shoes
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Heck yeah!

The Red Shoes is my favorite, but I also love The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, I Know Where I'm Going and Black Narcissus. In I Know Where I'm Going, I especially love the dance hall sequence. So many dance movies these days fail to show us the feet. I was watching You Got Served (or maybe it was Drum Line), thinking "did these guys never see a Powell & Pressburger movie? They should know, you always gotta start with the feet." I don't know how exactly they did it, but they had a way of filming crowds and collective motion that really puts you there in the middle of things. Look at the beginning of the Red Shoes. And speaking of the subjective camera, there's that bit where the camera twirls in place of Moira Shearer, just stopping long enough to capture a face in the audience.

Sweet.



The People's Republic of Clogher
Powell is just about on the same level as Hitchcock and David Lean for me.
I'd put him above both.

I love Powell's (& Pressburger's; not seen many of his early ones, to be honest) films. True visionaries in that new-fangled medium called 'colour'. With a 'u'.

That he was neglected by the industry for so long (he resorted to storyboarding for Coppola in the 70s, I believe*) is a crying shame.

Of the MP/EP films that I own, my favourite would have to be Blimp - it's close to perfection - followed by A Matter of Life and Death, One of Our Aircraft is Missing and Black Narcissus.

Of his 'solo' films it would have to be Peeping Tom. No surprises there, then.



*Edit - Or was it George Lucas?
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"Critics are like eunuchs in a harem; they know how the Tatty 100 is done, they've seen it done every day, but they're unable to do it themselves." - Brendan Behan



So many good movies, so little time.
I love Michael Powell too.

Favorites are Black Narcissus, Peeping Tom, Col. Blimp, A Matter of Life and Death, 49th Parallel and I Know Where I'm Going.

I never saw One of Our Aircraft is Missing but I will soon.
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"Those are my principles. If you don't like them I have others."- Groucho Marx



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One film which hasn't been mentioned yet is A Canterbury Tale (1944). I bought it, sight unseen, when it came out on Criterion DVD last year, and needless to say, I fell in love with it. If anything, it's even more unique in its vision of how history and the present (WWII) are entertwined.



The story seems deceptively simple and often downright odd, but the combo of three disparate characters meeting and trying to solve the mystery of the "Glue Man", while being inexorably drawn toward Canterbury Cathedral, is both charming and moving. The ending really opens up my flood gates, but until then, it's really quite funny.
The film was originally panned by critics, but it's so visually-alive and full of wit, I can't see how, unless they were disappointed that the team reverted back to B&W and hadn't made Blimp II. There is one particularly astonishing scene early on which presages Kubrick's famous jump cut near the beginning of 2001, except there are no bones or space vehicles; Powell has a medievel hawk soaring through the sky transform into a WWII military aircraft.




The People's Republic of Clogher
It might be pertinent to mention the star of two of the best loved Powell & Pressburger films, Blimp and Black Narcissus, Deborah Kerr, who passed on a few months ago.

She was probably best remembered for twirling around with baldie Brinner in The King and I and scrambling in the surf in From Here To Eternity but her turns as the sexually frustrated nun and the triple-pronged object of Clive Candy's infatuation will always live with me.








For anybody who hasn't seen some of these or wants to catch them again, tonight Turner Classic Movies is having a mini-marathon of Michael Powell's work. It starts at 8:00PMEST/5:00PMPST with Powell & Pressburger's The Edge of the World. After that at 9:30PM/6:30PM it's their The Life & Death of Colonel Blimp. At 12:30AM/9:30PM is I Know Where I'm Going, and it wraps up at 2:15AM/11:15PM with Powell's The Age of Consent.

Anybody who wants to see a twenty-something Helen Mirren completely nude, set your DVRs for that last one.
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"Film is a disease. When it infects your bloodstream it takes over as the number one hormone. It bosses the enzymes, directs the pineal gland, plays Iago to your psyche. As with heroin, the antidote to Film is more Film." - Frank Capra



Dachshunds Fear Me
Cool. My DVR's going to be getting a workout tonight! BLACK NARCISSUS is my favorite, but I already have it on DVD. Thanks for the scoop!
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Reporter: What would you call that hairstyle you're wearing?

George: Arthur.



Dachshunds Fear Me
That was last night, actually.
Oops. Day late, a dollar short!

Oh, well. Thanks, anyway!



Bright light. Bright light. Uh oh.
From Movie Tab II:


The Small Back Room (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1949)




This lesser Powell/Pressburger film still contains many set-pieces of world-class filmmaking. The actual plot involves a bomb expert, working in the back room of a bureaucratic government organization in 1943, but, needless to say, England is constantly being attacked by "silent" bombs. These aren't the buzzbombs so wonderfully depicted in Green For Danger, but small thermos-sized bombs dropped which kill one or two soldiers or children at a time when they find them and move them without thinking. What makes this film more complex than usual is that the lead character (David Farrar) has already lost a foot from a bomb during WWII and he has a strong affinity to drink whiskey to help him forget about his infirmity and situation. However, he has a loving fiancee (Kathleen Bryon) who works in his office and provides him with enough support to get him through his "average" weaknesses.



This film DOES seem very low-key and almost disappointing as a piece of "just" storytelling, but as a piece of CINEMATIC storytelling, it has almost as many awesome set pieces as the duo's usual films. For example, there's an almost throwaway scene at Stonehenge involving the testing of an important gun for the Army. It's truly inspiring. Then, there's a visit by the "Minister" (Robert Morley) to the shop of the "Boys in the Back Room" which is definitely on the hilarious side. Another scene which is very funny is the bureaucratic discussion of the advantages/disadvatages of the gun tested at Stonehenge. Jack Hawkins especially gets to shine in that scene, along with Farrar. Ultimately, the best scenes are probably the scene where Farrar freaks out, not due to his drinking, but due to his lack of drinking. The way Powell is able to include the clock, the booze bottle, the curtains and David Farrar, all alone in his living room, is spectacular. Probably the other most-spectacular scene is the bomb-defusing conclusion on the rocky beach at the end. Nail-biting suspense right there.



This is another film where things might seem slow or boring, but if you actually pay attention to all the craft (the photography, sound, editing, sets, costumes and ACTING), you will notice many things which you may have missed the first time through. My God, CRAFT, I'm glad that rufnek never comes in this thread. (Oops!)



Bright light. Bright light. Uh oh.
A Matter of Life and Death (1946)




This new DVD makes me so happy. I've always loved this film in whatever format I've seen it, and yes, I've seen it at the theatre, but this thing is just so beautiful. That awesome tour of the universe which begins the film with stunning F/X and a humorous narrator segues perfectly into the intensely-romantic meeting between Peter (David Niven) and June (Kim Hunter) over the radio off the English coast just five days before Germany surrendered during WWII. A Matter of Life and Death isn't really for cynics or literalists, although the film can be perfectly interpreted in multiple ways. Yes, Peter could have jumped out of his burning airplane without a parachute and miraculously survived with some significant brain damage. Then again, he could just have easily been missed by Conductor 71 (Marius Goring) in the heavy fog, and the Afterlife is scrambling to try to retrieve him while also trying to deal with the fact that he's now in love with someone he would have never met if he actually died during his jump.



The American version was entitled Stairway to Heaven (see the above image), but Powell always hated that title. On the other hand, American distributors wanted to keep the word "Death" out of their post-WWII movies; ergo, the change in title. Roger Livesey is a standout as the neurologist who takes Peter's case, but the doctor is a complex character. The way he plays God over his small town by viewing everyone through his homemade camera obcura makes my wife's heart go pitter-pat (she desperately wants a camera obscura of her own). Powell's use of effects, offbeat camera angles and weird interpretations of time/space make the film incredibly ahead of its time. There are several scenes during the film where Conductor 71 shows up, but only Peter can see him because all the other characters are "frozen in time" while they talk "in space". The highlight of these many scenes is when June and the Doctor are playing ping pong (table tennis) and are frozen while Peter tries to get their attention. The scenes where Heaven appears as a giant semi-conductor or part of an enormous galaxy are also mind-boggling in this beautiful romance, which should not only make you laugh and cry a lot, but also just make you happy that there is such a thing as love to help most of us through this sometimes-unfair thing called life.



I really liked Peeping Tom myself, but I haven't seen too many of his (their) films. The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp and A Matter of Life and Death have been on my 'to watch' list for some time now. I should get to those films soon, if I do, I'll let you know what I think of them.

* Both titles have life and death in them, interesting.
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"Don't be so gloomy. After all it's not that awful. Like the fella says, in Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love - they had 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock."





The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp
touches upon something that has always interested me; what it is to be British. Us Brits have always maintained that stiff upper lip, y'know we're a very reserved breed. And above all, Powell's film is about the transition between youth and experience. Indeed the world was changing and Britain was reluctant to roll with it. We have always been a nation of parallels and right angles, a country of order and routine. The cultural revolution that would emerge from the denouement to WWII, is perfectly represented in The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp.



Like Brief Encounter (Lean, 1942) and Remains of the Day (Ivory, 1993), The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp has a perveying sense of sexual repression. Clive Candy (a beautifully charming turn from Roger Livesey) goes through his life replacing the girl that he didnt know he loved until he left (get your tongue round that!). Candy's wife and driver in his more elderly years share a startling resemblance to teacher Edith Hunter (Deborah Kerr plays all three roles). Sexual repression remains a leitmotif in British film and indeed British literature (D.H.Lawrence aside). Of course Powell would revisit the motif in Black Narcissus (1947), while a year later in The Red Shoes he would tragically present the post war anxieties of the independent woman.




Bright light. Bright light. Uh oh.
Age of Consent (1969)



(The "naked" one on the left is made of sand. The one on the right is Helen Mirren 40 years ago )

Michael Powell's final fictional feature film is a lyrical ode to the artist transplanting himself to another location to find a fresh Muse to lull him out of his artistic sleeping sickness. While it's true that Powell was able to release another British film after the frightening response to Peeping Tom and that he made another Australian film before this one, those two films have been seen by very few people. Today, it might seem strange that something as psychologically-complex and personally-artistic as Powell's Peeping Tom was received in 1960 as if it was a porno snuff film, but it left Powell crushed and an unmarketable name, despite the fact that he had created some of the greatest movies in film history. Age of Consent depicts successful English artist Morahan (James Mason) who is so burnt out that he decides to migrate to the remote Dunk Island in Northern Queensland, Australia, near the Great Barrier Reef. Luckily for him, he encounters the healthy teenage Cora (Helen Mirren) who is far from repressed and inspires the artist, especially when she poses in the nude. Equally lucky for Powell and us viewers, the director's batteries seem to be recharged in the beautiful surroundings and the empathic story.



Age of Consent is a modest film but it is also a lovely one. Besides the natural beauty of 24-year-old Helen Mirren (playing a 17-ish girl), it features the beauties of Dunk Island and some spectacular underwater photography of the Great Barrier Reef by Ron Taylor (Blue Water, White Death). The story is occasionally cartoony, especially the scenes involving Morahan's pesty "friend" (Jack MacGowran) and Cora's strange grandmother (Neva Carr-Glyn), but the heart of the flick is the warm and blossoming relationship between the artist and his model. They both develop an unspoken fondness for each other, and it's very well accompanied by a sweet, yet hesitant, musical score by Peter Sculthorpe. Besides Mason's awesome pet dog Godfrey, another big plus is the opening titles, consisting of lush paintings of a nude Helen Mirren posing as the Columbia Pictures logo. This is all restored on the new DVD, along with Sculthorpe's original score. However, about 40 years ago, the nude paintings and the haunting score were scrapped for a more-commercial one by Stanley Myers (The Deer Hunter). This coming attraction has the Myers score, but it will give you a taste anyway.




Bright light. Bright light. Uh oh.
Peeping Tom (1960)
+



Visual storytelling genius Michael Powell teamed up with scripter Leo Marks to make this audacious film which predated Psycho by months and was lambasted by the British critics as a "sexual snuff" film at the time of its release. In fact, after making one more film in England, this film's notoriety basically exiled the Master to Australia. Today, many of those same critics call it a masterpiece, and whatever you think about it, it's one of the most original and bizarre flicks ever made. Peeping Tom almost ranks up there with The Red Shoes as Powell's most-all-encompassing fever dream. When I say fever, I mean that the entire film is embued with red lights and it undoubtedly inspired such directors as Mario Bava and Dario Argento in the use of their color pallette and their subjective camerawork.



The thing about this Powell movie which got him into so much trouble was that no matter how cinematic his images were, the critics only saw prostitutes, murder, sick-and-twisted father/son relationships, unhealthy preoccupation with sex and death, and here's the kicker: the fact that Powell himself played the twisted scientist father and had his own son play his son at an early age as a victim of his father's abuse. The psychological underpinnings of the main character's actions, which are far more developed than those of Norman Bates, didn't count for much for the lynch mob critical community, even though Hitch came along a few months later and made them come up with excuses for him. The problem is that no matter what Powell accomplished in his film, he didn't film the flourishes that Hitch did with a far-more unexplainable story (even though some "psychiatrist" tries to explain Norman's motivations at the end of Psycho). Norman Bates is a sympathetic character, but there's no way he's more sympathetic than Mark Lewis in Peeping Tom. Even so, it's quite an accomplishment for both Powell and Hitch to put out such films so close together in the prehistoric year of 1960. It's just sad that the proven genius Powell was turned into a pariah while the proven genius Hitchcock became a millionaire.



I would have thought Hitch was a millionaire before Psycho, but a great review as usual Mark. I'm always appreciative of the film history you add to some of your reviews.



Bright light. Bright light. Uh oh.
With sharp investing, I'm sure he added his money up to being a millionaire, it's just that in one fell swoop, he made millions from Psycho all by itself. Hitch's salary for Psycho was 60% of the "net profits". Psycho cost about $807,000 and it grossed over $11 million in its opening run in the U.S. alone. Eventually it made 32 mill.