The cinema was the most popular form of entertainment during the Second World War. Film was a critically important medium for influencing opinion. Films, such as In Which We Serve and One of Our Aircraft is Missing, shaped the British people's perceptions of the conflict. British War Films, 1939-45 is an account of the feature films produced during the war, rather than government documentaries and official propaganda, making the book an important index of British morale and values at a time of desperate national crisis.
The cinema was the most popular form of entertainment during the Second World War. Film was a critically important medium for influencing opinion. Films, such as In Which We Serve and One of Our Aircraft is Missing, shaped the British people's perceptions of the conflict. British War Films, 1939-1945 is an account of the feature films produced during the war, rather than government documentaries and official propaganda, making the book an important index of British morale and values at a time of desperate national crisis.
In the fifties British cinema won large audiences with popular war films and comedies, creating stars such as Dirk Bogarde and Kay Kendall, and introducing the stereotypes of war hero, boffin and comic bureaucrat which still help to define images of British national identity. In British Cinema in the Fifties, Christine Geraghty examines some of the most popular films of this period, exploring the ways in which they approached contemporary social issues such as national identity, the end of empire, new gender roles and the care of children. Through a series of case studies on films as diverse as It Always Rains on Sunday and Genevieve, Simba and The Wrong Arm of the Law, Geraghty explores some of the key debates about British cinema and film theory, contesting current emphases on contradiction, subversion and excess and exploring the curious mix of rebellion and conformity which marked British cinema in the post-war era.
This book focuses on the emerging historical relations between British television and film culture in the 1950s. Drawing upon archival research, it does this by exploring the development of the early cinema programme on television - principally Current Release (BBC, 1952-3), Picture Parade (BBC, 1956) and Film Fanfare (ABC, 1956-7) - and argues that it was these texts which played the central role in the developing relations between the media. Particularly when it comes to Britain, the early co-existence of television and cinema has been seen as hostile and antagonistic, but in situating these programmes within the contexts of their institutional production, aesthetic construction and reception, the book aims to 'reconstruct' television's coverage of the cinema as crucial to the fabric of British film and television culture at the time. It demonstrates how the roles of cinema and television - as media industries and cultural forms, but crucially as sites of screen entertainment - effectively came together at this time in such a way that is unique to this decade.
This electronic version has been made available under a Creative Commons (BY-NC-ND) open access license. Offers a startling re-evaluation of what has until now been seen as the most critically lacklustre period of the British film history. Covers a variety of genres, such as B-movies, war films, women's pictures and theatrical adaptations; as well as social issues which affect film-making, such as censorship. Includes fresh assessment of maverick directors; Pat Jackson, Robert Hamer and Joseph Losey, and even of a maverick critic Raymond Durgnat. Features personal insights from those inidividually implicated in 1950s cinema; Corin Redgrave on Michael Redgrave, Isabel Quigly on film reviewing, and Bryony Dixon of the BFI on archiving and preservation. Presents a provocative challenge to conventional wisdom about 1950s film and rediscovers the Festival of Britain decade.
The author provides a decade-by-decade analysis of every film ever made in Britain about World War II. It provides a comprehensive account of how Britain has portrayed the war through films.
A study of the British contribution to film music, detailing the idiosyncracies of British film, and showing how the differences between it and Hollywood affected composers on both sides of the Atlantic. Jan Swynnoe's study is concerned with the special British contribution to film music, detailing how the idiosyncracies of British film, and of the British character, set it apart from its Hollywood counterpart. She shows how the differences between the two industries in all aspects of film making variously affected composers on both sides of the Atlantic. In the mid 1930s, when film composers in America were perfecting the formulae of the classical Hollywood score, film music in Britain scarcely existed; within a year or so, however, top British composers were scoring British films. How this transformation was brought about, and how established British concert composers, including Vaughan Williams and Arnold Bax, faced the challenge of the exacting and often bewildering art of scoring for feature film, is vividly described here, and the resulting scores compared with the work of seasoned Hollywood composers. JAN SWYNNOE researched the material on which her book is based over several years, at the same time pursuing her musical life as pianist, percussionist and composer.
This book undertakes a unique, coherent and comprehensive consideration of the depiction of naval warfare in the cinema. The films under discussion encompass all areas of naval operations in war, and highlight varying institutional and aesthetic responses to navies and the sea in popular culture. The examination of these films centres on their similarities to and differences from the conventions of the war genre and seeks to determine whether the distinctive characteristics of naval film narratives justify their categorisation as a separate genre or sub-genre in popular cinema. The explicit factual bases and drama-documentary style of many key naval films, such as In Which We Serve, They Were Expendable and Das Boot, also requires the consideration of these films as texts for popular historical transmission. Their frequent reinforcement of establishment views of the past, which derives from their conservative ideological position towards national and naval culture, makes these films key texts for the consideration of national cinemas as purveyors of contemporary history as popularly conceived by filmmakers and received by audiences.
Universally praised for its powerfully authentic depiction of submarine warfare, Run Silent, Run Deep was an immediate success when published in 1955 and shot to the top of best-seller lists nationwide. In 1958, Hollywood adapted the novel for the big screen starring Clark Gable and Burt Lancaster. The New York Timessaid of the novel, “If ever a book had a ring of reality, this is it . . . combat passages rank with the most exciting written about any branch of the service.” The Saturday Review called the book “a classic,” and many reviewers compared its author to such greats as C. S. Forester and Erich Remarque. Today these accolades still ring true for Edward L. Beach’s gripping first novel of American submariners confronting a formidable Japanese navy in a vicious battle to control the Pacific. Beach’s taut and dramatic narrative, told with the intimacy of a confession, deals with two strong-headed men, Edward Richardson, the commander of the USS Walrus, and his executive officer, Jim Bledsoe. Bound together by wartime duty, the two are divided by jealousy, pride, and love for a beautiful woman. But long after the details of this famous novel fade from memory, what remains with us is a startling realization of the way it was, really was, in the silent service during World War II. Unlike many war novels, here is a story that deals with war from the perspective of command. With fidelity, Beach creates the anguish, agony, and triumphs of command decisions. Commander Richardson embodies all that is fine and human in an excellent naval officer. This is a monument, not to the misfits and the mistakes, but to those men who rose to greatness under the sometimes unbearable tensions of action.
In this history of 1950s British cinema, the authors draw extensively on previously unknown archive material to chart the growing rejection of post-war deference by both film-makers and cinema audiences.
