The Last Bohemian offers the first extended, critical evaluation of all of Brian Desmond Hurst’s films, reappraising the reputation of a director who was born in 1895 in Belfast and died in Belgravia, London, in 1986. Pettitt skillfully weaves together film analyses, biography, and cultural history with the aim of bringing greater attention to Hurst’s qualities as a director and exploring his significance within Irish film and British cinema history between the 1930s and the 1960s. The director of Dangerous Moonlight (1941), Theirs Is the Glory (1946), and his best-known Scrooge (1951) made most of his films for British studios but developed an exile’s attachment to Ireland. How in the early twenty-first century has Hurst’s career been reclaimed and recognized, and by whom? Why in 2012 was Hurst’s name given to one of the new Titanic Studios in Belfast? What were his qualities as a filmmaker? To whose national cinema history, if any, does Hurst belong? Richly illustrated with film stills and other visual material from public archives, The Last Bohemian addresses these questions and in doing so makes a significant contribution to British and Irish cinema studies.
Alone for too long, they’ve finally found each other and home. Now, they’ll have to fight to keep both safe. Nick Wyatt lost his mate and vowed never to love again. The hurt’s too deep. Portia Danes knows about loss. When her parents were killed, they left her as the only shifter in their hometown. Needing to be with her own kind, she found Moonlight…and Nick. Nick fights his longing for Portia but can’t resist, coming alive within her loving and lusty embrace. Heated days and nights follow. Their bond grows and so do a series of strange accidents in Moonlight. Minor at first then increasing in gravity and frequency. When the pack’s suspicions ignite about Portia, Nick must defend her against an unexpected enemy or risk losing her forever.
A stranger arrives with a message for 12-year-old Filippo: his father, whom he has never met, is being held captive by the bandit Mir Baba and only the most valuable jewel, The Ocean of the Moon, is worth enough to raise the ransom.
I came across an old photo recently and pondered the people in it. The person in the centre was my late brother, Norman G. Donald of the RAF. The other figures in the photo I do not know, though I suspect they were his flight instructors at North Battleford, Canada. The photo bears my brothers script KING-PINS ALL!N. BATTLEFORD. After qualifying as a pilot, he sailed back to England and was posted to RAF Hunsdon just north of London in 1942. He was soon flying Douglas Havocs and Bristol Beaufighters. Night fighters were a new school of defence, but it was hopeless finding enemy aircraft in the dark. The Turbinlite device was fitted to the Beaufighters and Havocs, and the idea was to find the enemy somehow, guided by ground control using heavy ground radar units (too heavy to carry in aircraft), turn on the Turbinlite searchlight, and illuminate the enemy aircraft. A single-engined Hurricane fighter flying alongside then shot down the enemy aircraft. It did help to see the target as this same sky was full of thousands of Allied aircraft, all trying to avoid each other.
First published in 1998, music scored for film has only relatively recently received the critical attention which it merits. Many composers in the twentieth century have written works for films or documentaries, a number feeling that this aspect of their output has been undervalued. This dictionary complements other studies which have appeared in recent years which look at the technical and theoretical issues concerned with film music composition. Arranged alphabetically by composer, the volume comprises over 500 entries covering all nationalities. Each entry includes very brief biographical information on the composer, followed by a list of the films (with dates) for which he or she has composed. Details of recordings are also given. The dictionary’s international coverage ensures that it will become a standard reference work for all those interested in the history of twentieth-century music and the development of film.
Lost, baffled, and alone in Willesden's mean streets, Detective Constable Dangerous Davies is up against the cream of criminality. Newspaper theft (the work of organized crime?), household robbery (including cheese from the fridge), it's all grist to his mill. When Dangerous is beaten up, yet again, at a European Friendship dinner dance he reluctantly takes some sick leave. Recuperating in Bournemouth he is approached by a member of the local Widows' Luncheon Club. She wants him to find out the truth about her husband's disappearance. Dangerous declines. It's against the rules. Back in Willesden a further beating helps change his mind. So starts a double life of regular casework and moonlighting as Dangerous lurches into a mystery fit to confuse the great Holmes himself...
During the Second World War, the British movie industry produced a number of films concerning the war, all of which were, by necessity, heavily myth-laden and propagandised. Foremost among these productions was The First of the Few, which was the biggest grossing film of 1942. In the immediate post-war period, to start with there were no British aviation war films. The first to be released was Angels One Five in 1952. It was well-received, confirming that the Battle of Britain was a commercial commodity. Over the next few years, many famous war heroes published their memoirs, or had books written about them, including the legless Group Captain Douglas Bader, whose story, Reach for the Sky, told by Paul Brickhill, became a best-seller in 1956. It was followed a year later by the film of the same name, which, starring Kenneth More, dominated that year’s box office. The early Battle of Britain films had tended to focus upon the story of individuals, not the bigger picture. That changed with the release of the star-studded epic Battle of Britain in 1969. Using real aircraft, the film, produced in color and on a far larger scale than had been seen on film before, was notable for its spectacular flying sequences. Between the release of Reach for the Sky and Battle of Britain, however, much had changed for modern Britain. For a variety of reasons many felt that the story of the nation’s pivotal moment in the Second World War was something best buried and forgotten. Indeed, the overall box office reaction to Battle of Britain reinforced this view – all of which might explain why it was the last big screen treatment of this topic for many years. It was during the Battle of Britain’s seventieth anniversary year that the subject returned to the nation's screens when Matthew Wightman’s docudrama First Light was first broadcast. Essentially a serialisation of Spitfire pilot Geoffrey Wellum’s best-selling memoir of the same title, Wightman cleverly combined clips of Wellum as an old man talking about the past with his new drama footage. The series is, in the opinion of the author, the best portrayal of an individual’s Battle of Britain experience to have been made. In this fascinating exploration of the Battle of Britain on the big screen, renowned historian and author Dilip Sarkar examines the popular memory and myths of each of these productions and delves into the arguments between historians and the filmmakers. Just how true to the events of the summer of 1940 are they, and how much have they added to the historical record of ‘The Finest Hour’?
