Powell and Pressburger’s War,
The Art of Propaganda, 1939 – 1946
by Greg M. Colon Semenza & Garrett A. Sullivan. Jr. Bloomsbury Academic 2024 ISBN 979-8-7651-0577-1 £28.99 Paperback
From 1939-1946 Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger produced eight remarkable propaganda feature films but neither felt their artistic integrity was compromised from being backed by The Ministry of Information. On the contrary whilst delivering believable nuanced propaganda there was no resorting to a British documentary approach: for their brilliantly clever wartime stories were ‘subverted’ with that special P&P chemistry of fantasy, myth, and romance. Both were masters at delivering propaganda, framed by counter propaganda, as intelligent entertainment.
The term propaganda is loaded with negativity. Yet P&P’s films need to seen in the same positive, but dramatically dissimilar, light to Humphrey Jennings’s poetic war documentaries which depicted the struggles of the British public. Roughly where Jennings generously ennobled P&P both critiqued and heroically praised.
The Spy in Black (1939), Contraband (1940) 49th Parallel (1941), One of Our Aircraft is Missing (1942), The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), A Canterbury Tale (1944), I Know Where I’m Going (1945) and A Matter of Life and Death (1946). This is a body of work unique in British cinema, still resonating with audiences today long after their propagandist mission is of lesser concern. But it artistically concerned two truly great filmmakers. And this study explains why.
The opening chapter on The Spy in Black anticipates the advent of British propaganda. Central to its power is the star persona of Conrad Veidt. And I agree with the authors that though the film is not deliberate propaganda its espionage romance does put feelers out in that direction. A year later Contraband appears and is officially sanctioned by The Ministry of Information. It’s the first wartime feature to put the British blackout on screen and again stars Conrad Veidt (Here P&P cheekily slip in a comic moment where Veidt hits a villain over his head with a bust of Neville Chamberlain.)
On reaching 49th Parallel we get a more coherent political picture. This chapter is called “The Dangerous Interpretability of Wartime Propaganda.” The story is about a German U-boat crew’s efforts to escape Canada to the United States. This is an exceptionally well made and entertaining film. No dull spouting propaganda. However, its sympathetic image of the Nazi characters has always proved problematic to critics and audiences. Yet P&P dared to show conflicting propaganda messages for their audience. Both are contradictory and open to debate. Their more sophisticated ‘plan’ is to get you to think, and entertain you about the real nature of propaganda itself. Nuance really matters.
“The Nazis (ie Goebbels) made a mistake to confuse propaganda with publicity. Such a mistake is easily made in a totalitarian state. Publicity is based on repetition. Propaganda should be much more subtle. In a free country, repetition is boring, you change the wavelength (Back then it meant tuning in to another radio station but, as also today, switching TV channels or clicking onto social media sites). Only a totalitarian state can use repetition since there is nothing different available.”
That’s from an early draft of a speech made by screenwriter Pressburger with my own additions in brackets.
Chapter 4, titled “Agency, Gender, and Propaganda in One of Our Aircraft is Missing” is illuminating by pointing out the important role that women played in the film. The Dutch resistance workers Jo de Vries and Els Meertens are strong charismatic figures superbly acted by Googie Withers and Pamela Brown. Women have always been given wonderfully sympathetic roles in P&P’s world.
Arriving at The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is also arriving at some of the best writing in Semenza and Sullivan Jnr’s book. The Blimp film is based on David Low’s famous cartoon in The Evening Standard. It covers a long time span from the Boer war, into the First World War and concluding in WW2. The film lives on as both a resistance to Nazism and a critique of British military endeavour ( The authors rightly draw our attention to the War Office scene where an uncomfortable and disinterested Colonel Betteridge turns his back on Blimp’s stories of German propaganda about the Boer war).
The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp’s level of sophisticated argument for audiences to sift through concerning the truth and lies of democratic and totalitarian regimes is remarkably impressive. But The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is more than political analysis, it’s also a profound film about youthful endeavour, old-age resignation, action and reflection, innovation and tradition; set against real and phoney wars.
Like Blimp, A Canterbury Tale is, for me, a masterpiece. But it wasn’t a propaganda or mainstream entertainment success in the 1940’s. It fared badly at the box office. Only now does A Canterbury Tale speak eloquently about the values of tradition facing a post-war modernity and works maybe even more on a mystical level. Propaganda alone about English identity can’t really pin down its strange and haunting power.
I Know Where I’m Going pushes deeper into folklore, materialism, and spiritual values. The author’s quote Ian Christie’s description “a fable of post war optimism” yet are correct when they state that I Know Where I’m Going also “worries about where the nation as a whole is going.”
Finally there’s A Matter of Life and Death. A great film operating on many levels one of which, like A Canterbury Tale, is the Anglo American alliance. That section of the film with its fantasy court scene of English Imperialism put on trial, to be contrasted with American democracy, can sometimes feel slightly long-winded. Yet Semenza and Sullivan Jnr are excellent here on the background of this debate. I was invigorated to watch A Matter of Life and Death again for the nth time: another masterpiece about the triumph of love, in the form of pilot Peter Carter (David Niven) and air traffic controller June (Kim Hunter): important for, yet far bigger than, it’s propaganda for the future of a post-war world.
Semenza and Sullivan’s book claims that Powel and Pressburger remained auteurs throughout the making of these films, working well with the ideas and ambitions of their production company The Archers and the MOI film division. I don’t dispute that fact for it’s backed up by exhaustive research that carefully acknowledges how P&P retained their personal mark. True the book has rewarding and insightful things to say about such committed war films but I felt all this could have been edited down to a shorter book that excised some mannerisms of academic style. Over-used phrases like “self-reflexivity” often mannered the authors’ argument. Still Powell and Pressburger’s War is an important and worthwhile addition to the growing library on P&P’s remarkable career separately and together: British Film enthusiasts and British Film scholars will want to read it.
Alan Price©2024.
Powell and Pressburger’s War,
The Art of Propaganda, 1939 – 1946
by Greg M. Colon Semenza & Garrett A. Sullivan. Jr. Bloomsbury Academic 2024 ISBN 979-8-7651-0577-1 £28.99 Paperback
From 1939-1946 Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger produced eight remarkable propaganda feature films but neither felt their artistic integrity was compromised from being backed by The Ministry of Information. On the contrary whilst delivering believable nuanced propaganda there was no resorting to a British documentary approach: for their brilliantly clever wartime stories were ‘subverted’ with that special P&P chemistry of fantasy, myth, and romance. Both were masters at delivering propaganda, framed by counter propaganda, as intelligent entertainment.
The term propaganda is loaded with negativity. Yet P&P’s films need to seen in the same positive, but dramatically dissimilar, light to Humphrey Jennings’s poetic war documentaries which depicted the struggles of the British public. Roughly where Jennings generously ennobled P&P both critiqued and heroically praised.
The Spy in Black (1939), Contraband (1940) 49th Parallel (1941), One of Our Aircraft is Missing (1942), The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), A Canterbury Tale (1944), I Know Where I’m Going (1945) and A Matter of Life and Death (1946). This is a body of work unique in British cinema, still resonating with audiences today long after their propagandist mission is of lesser concern. But it artistically concerned two truly great filmmakers. And this study explains why.
The opening chapter on The Spy in Black anticipates the advent of British propaganda. Central to its power is the star persona of Conrad Veidt. And I agree with the authors that though the film is not deliberate propaganda its espionage romance does put feelers out in that direction. A year later Contraband appears and is officially sanctioned by The Ministry of Information. It’s the first wartime feature to put the British blackout on screen and again stars Conrad Veidt (Here P&P cheekily slip in a comic moment where Veidt hits a villain over his head with a bust of Neville Chamberlain.)
On reaching 49th Parallel we get a more coherent political picture. This chapter is called “The Dangerous Interpretability of Wartime Propaganda.” The story is about a German U-boat crew’s efforts to escape Canada to the United States. This is an exceptionally well made and entertaining film. No dull spouting propaganda. However, its sympathetic image of the Nazi characters has always proved problematic to critics and audiences. Yet P&P dared to show conflicting propaganda messages for their audience. Both are contradictory and open to debate. Their more sophisticated ‘plan’ is to get you to think, and entertain you about the real nature of propaganda itself. Nuance really matters.
“The Nazis (ie Goebbels) made a mistake to confuse propaganda with publicity. Such a mistake is easily made in a totalitarian state. Publicity is based on repetition. Propaganda should be much more subtle. In a free country, repetition is boring, you change the wavelength (Back then it meant tuning in to another radio station but, as also today, switching TV channels or clicking onto social media sites). Only a totalitarian state can use repetition since there is nothing different available.”
That’s from an early draft of a speech made by screenwriter Pressburger with my own additions in brackets.
Chapter 4, titled “Agency, Gender, and Propaganda in One of Our Aircraft is Missing” is illuminating by pointing out the important role that women played in the film. The Dutch resistance workers Jo de Vries and Els Meertens are strong charismatic figures superbly acted by Googie Withers and Pamela Brown. Women have always been given wonderfully sympathetic roles in P&P’s world.
Arriving at The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is also arriving at some of the best writing in Semenza and Sullivan Jnr’s book. The Blimp film is based on David Low’s famous cartoon in The Evening Standard. It covers a long time span from the Boer war, into the First World War and concluding in WW2. The film lives on as both a resistance to Nazism and a critique of British military endeavour ( The authors rightly draw our attention to the War Office scene where an uncomfortable and disinterested Colonel Betteridge turns his back on Blimp’s stories of German propaganda about the Boer war).
The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp’s level of sophisticated argument for audiences to sift through concerning the truth and lies of democratic and totalitarian regimes is remarkably impressive. But The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is more than political analysis, it’s also a profound film about youthful endeavour, old-age resignation, action and reflection, innovation and tradition; set against real and phoney wars.
Like Blimp, A Canterbury Tale is, for me, a masterpiece. But it wasn’t a propaganda or mainstream entertainment success in the 1940’s. It fared badly at the box office. Only now does A Canterbury Tale speak eloquently about the values of tradition facing a post-war modernity and works maybe even more on a mystical level. Propaganda alone about English identity can’t really pin down its strange and haunting power.
I Know Where I’m Going pushes deeper into folklore, materialism, and spiritual values. The author’s quote Ian Christie’s description “a fable of post war optimism” yet are correct when they state that I Know Where I’m Going also “worries about where the nation as a whole is going.”
Finally there’s A Matter of Life and Death. A great film operating on many levels one of which, like A Canterbury Tale, is the Anglo American alliance. That section of the film with its fantasy court scene of English Imperialism put on trial, to be contrasted with American democracy, can sometimes feel slightly long-winded. Yet Semenza and Sullivan Jnr are excellent here on the background of this debate. I was invigorated to watch A Matter of Life and Death again for the nth time: another masterpiece about the triumph of love, in the form of pilot Peter Carter (David Niven) and air traffic controller June (Kim Hunter): important for, yet far bigger than, it’s propaganda for the future of a post-war world.
Semenza and Sullivan’s book claims that Powel and Pressburger remained auteurs throughout the making of these films, working well with the ideas and ambitions of their production company The Archers and the MOI film division. I don’t dispute that fact for it’s backed up by exhaustive research that carefully acknowledges how P&P retained their personal mark. True the book has rewarding and insightful things to say about such committed war films but I felt all this could have been edited down to a shorter book that excised some mannerisms of academic style. Over-used phrases like “self-reflexivity” often mannered the authors’ argument. Still Powell and Pressburger’s War is an important and worthwhile addition to the growing library on P&P’s remarkable career separately and together: British Film enthusiasts and British Film scholars will want to read it.
Alan Price©2024.
By Alan Price • books, film, year 2024 • Tags: Alan Price, books, film