Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger

I've seen a few Powell & Pressburger films, not as many as Martin Scorsese I suspect. Here in Made In England he rightly waxes lyrical about the legendary filmmakers and British cinema, with a dizzying display of archive, some apparently rather rare, although I'm no expert to distinguish. It starts as much Scorsese's story as P&P's (forgive the abbreviation). He talks of obsessively watching films like The Tales of Hoffman on black and white American TV. I'll admit I struggle with that film, but little Martin loved it. I guess what I'm looking for here, is letting Scorsese tell his origin story through these films and find the films that I've been missing. The controversial Peeping Tom (technically just Powell) and the operatic The Red Shoes both look like a must see, but I'm thankful I've seen many of the others featured. Like The 49th Parallel, made during the war, its propaganda but made in the most beautifully cinematic way. It's essentially a film buff talking about films for other film buffs. I doubt this would catch the attention of a particularly wide audience, but it should really. It's a compelling story. Neither Micheal Powell nor Emeric Pressburger had easy starts, but both passionate and eager about film, once together, each gave the other the strength to succeed. In an era of defined roles, their partnership appears to have been a baffling mystery to many, but essentially Emeric wrote, Micheal directed and they both produced, and thanks to the success of films like The 49th Parallel, they made what they wanted. Films like The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp. A brilliant post war film that annoyed Winston Churchill, "Such a wonderful leader, but he just wasn't a good film critic". Pressburger is right, Blimp is an absolute masterpiece and certainly one of my favourites. It's a delight to hear how Scorsese talks about it like an old friend. Watching clips of their films like this, it throws into light their repeated use of the same actors. They too become like old friends. Roger Livesey pops up a lot, sometimes as the lead, other times as supporting like in A Matter of Life and Death, another epic piece of cinema and Deborah Kerr, again from Blimp and later Black Narcissus. There's lots of fun parallels drawn between P&P and Scorsese's work, as he hammers home his fandom. There's no punches pulled though as P&P hit troubled waters with studios... and each other. It's a functional documentary, it doesn't need to be anything more. Its aim is to shine a light on the life and work of Powell & Pressburger and it does that wonderfully.

Okay, so I wasn't born in the 40s. I'm an 80s kid, and color TV and cinema were already the norm in my childhood. But even then, especially when watching TV (private channels only emerged in Turkey during my adolescence, so I grew up with state-run channels), most of the films were in black and white. Turns out, those were cheaper for TV stations to acquire.

It's wild to think that Martin Scorsese and I probably watched the same films on TV and fell in love with the same directors. This documentary answered a lot of questions I had, particularly about the influence of British filmmakers and crew on modern American cinema. It seems even Italian-American directors of that era developed their passion for film by watching British movies on TV as kids.

I'm not usually a big documentary person; I rarely watch them. But this one, which I caught on Mubi, really struck a chord with me. It's a poignant reminder of how fickle the film industry can be and how quickly people are forgotten.

Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger (2024) is a love letter to the iconic British filmmaking duo, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. It's a treasure trove of archival footage, interviews, and insights into their creative process. The documentary delves into their groundbreaking techniques, their unique visual style, and their lasting impact on cinema.

Scorsese's narration is both informative and passionate, revealing his deep admiration for Powell and Pressburger's work. He guides us through their filmography, highlighting their most iconic films like The Red Shoes, Black Narcissus, and A Matter of Life and Death. We get a glimpse into their collaborative genius, their ability to seamlessly blend fantasy and reality, and their unwavering commitment to artistic integrity.

The documentary also sheds light on the challenges they faced in a rapidly changing industry, their eventual falling out, and their subsequent rediscovery and reappraisal by later generations of filmmakers. It's a cautionary tale about the fleeting nature of fame and the importance of preserving cinematic heritage.

Made in England is not just a documentary for film buffs; it's a celebration of creativity, passion, and the enduring power of cinema. It's a reminder that even in an industry driven by commercial interests, true artistry can still shine through. And most importantly, it's a tribute to two visionary filmmakers who dared to dream big and left an indelible mark on the world of cinema.

This documentary commemorates the collaboration between director Michael POWELL and screenwriter Emmerich PRESSBURGER. Between 1939 and 1957 they made numerous films together, and from 1943 onwards they also worked as producers for the film company THE ARCHERS. It is interesting that films such as BLACK NARCISSUS, THE RED SHOES and THE TALES OF HOFFMANN were forgotten between 1960 and 1980 before they were rediscovered as masterpieces of film history. Martin SCORSESE also reminds us of this, having already paid tribute to the almost forgotten film gems of Italian cinema history. It makes you want to rediscover the films of POWELL / PRESSBURGER. BLACK NARCISSUS (1947) with Deborah KERR, David FARRAR and Kathleen BYRON is certainly particularly successful.

Using some rarely seen interview footage of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger and very, very, few industry talking heads, this is a fitting tribute to two men who trail-blazed British cinema in the 1940s and truly inspired the presenter - Martin Scorsese. His pieces to camera are sparingly interspersed into his narration of the astonishingly bold and creative aspiration of these film-makers who made a range of films ranging from lightly comedic romances through the dark times of WWII and their more propagandist elements, to full blown theatrical adaptations using great artistes like Moira Shearer, Robert Helpmann, Robert Sounseville, Ludmilla Tcherina and the usually present Anton Walbrook. In partnership with the additional, often inspired, vision of regular cinematographers like Jack Cardiff and Christopher Challis they used colour, shade, light and most importantly (I think) music to augment some stirring characterisations and potent stories that tackled a plethora of topics that resonated strongly with audiences hitherto unexposed to the sheer grandeur of the experience on the screen before them. The documentary is composed so as to leave virtually all of the heavy lifting to the pair themselves. Scorsese gently, but enthusiastically and insightfully, guides us through their careers without spending much time on their personal lives or other distractions, and that allows us to savour the variety of the Archer's productions, the delicacy of their writing - especially from David Niven, Roger Livesey and Kim Hunter in "A Matter of Life and Death" (1946), and leaves us with a sympathetically and critically crafted appraisal of two cinema geniuses. It's a chronology of sorts, but not just of film making - it tells us a little about the evolving attitudes and tastes of the audiences too.

What makes the World Cinema documentaries of Martin Scorsese - American Movies, Val Lewton, Elia Kazan, and Voyage to Italy - so special is how he doesn't pretend that he can cover everything (though he certainly hits all the major beats that he can). He can't pretend to, so it all comes back to what his world was as a child; kid with asthma, couldn't play or do much in extracurricular physical activities, so there were two things he could manage: going to the movies, and watching movies on TV.

It's through this prism as well as the incalcubale influence that these works had on him that he shows us and talks about, with an enthusiasm and passion that makes you feel like you got a seat in a film class that lasts only as long as a feature (though the American and Italian docs run 4 hours - short time when you think on it), and this film, about the "Archers" Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, is another in that pantheon.

Made in England is a film that is more than just a documentary about movies or the making of them (though it is that). You feel like he was changed by what the bravery and virtuosity of art - and as is detailed here the love and bond between the two creators (Powell mostly was on set and directed, Pressburger did more or the writing, and they both produced equally), which is itself an inspiration for creators. And as a difference from the other documentaries/history lessons, this time there's a friendship that Powell also had with the man and that love for his mind and heart as well as his work comes through completely.

Above all else is the sense that not only do you not necessarily have to have seen most or even all of the films by these filmmakers to appreciate what Scorsese is detailiny here - though I imagine having familiarity at least with The Red Shoes or Black Narcissus would help, and they are not hard to find these days - the documentary makes the case for what, we are told, was Michael Powell's mantra: one art in all (if I'm paraphrasing that forgive me before you throw me in movie critic jail). That is to say film in its peak potential can and should have all the arts working in unison: theater, painting, dance, choreography, literature, poetry, mysticism and spirituality all mingling in films like Canterbury Tale or, of course, Tales of Hoffmann.

The examples of experimentation and surrealism, how ambitiously the filmmakers kept pushing what could be done in the medium while not only keeping in the spirit and practice of the hallmarks of Silent-era film (telling as much as possible visually, over dialog, which isn't to say there isn't great dialog in there films because I Know Where I'm Going, enough said), are stellar and really point to how there was real joy in the fantasies and realities that Powell and Pressburger ventured into. And it's just a superb chronicle of how careers evolve and how one film will lead to another or then the next a sharp 180 turn has to be made (ie Red Shoes to Small Black Room, you almost can't believe they're by the same directors but the heart is the constant between the two films).

You understand completely how art and experimentation can thrive best when Those With the Power at the studios (and sometimes surely producers, ie Rank and Selznick) can make or break a career depending on how open or closed off they are to an approach to art; sometimes that's due to the circumstances of a time period (so the contexts of England in WW2 vs Post War and then into the 1960s - the forgotten part and the rediscovery in the later decades - is deftly explored so it becomes also a story about how, to quote of all things something I read once in a book about MTV, art is what you get away with).

What I mean to say is Scorsese, in his analysis that is down to showing the nuts and bolts of filmmaking - how color is used so daringly and vibrantly (I got goosebumps showing my personal favorite P&P, Matter of Life and Death); the choices of pre recorded music on set for sequences; planning so meticulous even eye movements are choreographed to the nines - he expresses what Cinema as a whole can express life, loves, rivalries, war, betrayal, capital O Obsession, the human need for control (and the lack of it), and materialism and how spirituality is in so many parts of life, as the ultimate art-form.

In other words, Scorsese uses specific examples; down to how the decisions in showing (sometimes uncomfortable) points of view; choices of actors (with Deborah Kerr sometimes multiple parts in one film); points that challenge our empathy with a character (49th Parallel), are one level that can't be separated from the pure joy that the Archers displayed in film after film (until, sadly, that dissipated).