Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger

This isn't the first time that Martin Scorsese has paid homage to his cinematic heroes, Powell & Pressburger. The BBC has broadcast the legendary New Yorker talking about this brilliant partnership and I'm pretty sure said broadcast awakened my own enthusiasm for their movies. But this, Made in England, is a final, richer expression of love, from a director in his dotage, for his great forebears. It even shows shot by shot examples of where Scorsese believes his own movies are influenced by The Archers' seminal example.

We learn how Powell was an English director who cut his teeth on grand, silent cinema productions made in France, and Pressburger was an emigre Hungarian Jew fleeing the Nazis, his head full of ideas for stories. Their meeting was a meeting of minds and ambition, and it led to a sequence of brilliant masterpieces, mostly appreciated, but not all appreciated, by the audiences and critics. Their films began during wartime and had to receive approval from The Ministry of Information. Scorsese describes how bold P&P were, even in their propagandist projects. He speaks lovingly of the impact P&P movies had upon him and his friends, even when they could only be seen in grainy b/w on television, sometimes cut to satisfy the prudery of the day. There was an undeniable magic to it.

Powell and Pressburger were like the Lennon & McCartney of cinema, a short-lived but mutually inspiring partnership. That's my simile by the way, not Scorsese's.

Made in England shows plenty from their best known movies, and clips from various others I'd never heard of, including a tasty little drama called The Small Back Room. Powell, once his partnership with Pressburger was over, made Peeping Tom, denigrated in its day, acclaimed as a masterpiece more recently. "But when do the English ever appreciate their great men?" asks Powell towards the end of the documentary. It's an old problem. One is not a prophet in one's own country. Even the greatest artists can't guarantee financing when the moneymen are merely bean counters.

I found it very moving, hearing the story of how the young Scorsese went in search of his hero (Powell), rescued him from obscurity, and brought him back into the world of clapperboards, gaffers and script editing. Theirs was a friendship born of mutual respect, as indeed was that of Powell and Pressburger. Love and respect. How much we need these things, ever onward, hither and yon.

Please go and see this movie. Few will. Be one of the few.

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.

I'm a long-time admirer of the films of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger and so it seems is Martin Scorsese as he amply demonstrates in this warm and informed tribute to the duo. The first film of theirs I ever recall seeing was the wonderfully imaginative "A Matter of Life and Death", still one of my all-time favourites but of course there are so many other movies in their canon to admire and here Scorsese takes us through each of them in a linear fashion as well as imparting the usual biographical information about them.

I'm not quite sure why his commentary couldn't just have been done by voiceover which would have saved us the numerous static, cutaway shots to Marty sat in a cinema seat gazing intently at us as if the fourth wall was the movie-screen itself, other than to show us that it was indeed the renowned Mr Scorsese strewing pearls of wisdom our way, reinforcing his presence in so doing. I've not pegged him as being self-aggrandizing before so I'm going to discount that possibility too but I guess the producers thought it might have helped sell the movie a bit more when you can see as well as hear the esteemed contemporary director doing his stuff. Maybe I'm being too severe on him, in not conceding the personal nature of the project to him and also given he was personal friends with Powell for the last 16 years of the latter's life.

Another carp would be Scorsese unnecessarily referencing his own movies to the point where we're shown clips from his own films supposedly inspired by P & P. I'm not that big a fan of Scorsese's work and didn't appreciate him leveraging his own movies into the narrative to perhaps shine some unrequired reflected glory onto the Archers own productions, believe me, they don't need it. And just one more moan for the road, I didn't often hear him mention by name many of the wonderful actors employed in the various films.

Anyway, once I got past all the "All about Marty" vibes, I was able to really enjoy revisiting these marvellous films, some of them among the best ever in the medium and you can tell he's watched each and every one of them and written every word he speaks. There are welcome archive interview clips of Michael and Emeric as well as some of Powell's home movies - especially the endearing man-about-town clip of him at an advanced age in contemporary Hollywood and numerous stills photos of the two. The clips from the movies themselves are judiciously selected and aptly analyzed by Mr S.

I guess if the actual presence of the mighty Marty caused a few more people to catch this fine documentary then I suppose I can park my aforementioned reservations.

I just hope the viewer's next move was to hunt down a Powell and Pressburger film and not one by Scorsese as they'd be far better off if they did the former.