Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger

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.

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.

From this year, comes this exhaustive love letter from Martin Scorsese (who narrates & gives testimony on camera) about Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, master British filmmakers who elevated their medium into art. Using archive interviews w/the pair & copious scenes from their films, their work was exemplified by their use of special effects & otherworldly subject matter which would put their oeuvre far & away ahead of the pack of what their contemporaries were doing which would be a boon of inspiration for Scorsese (his use of color as emotions was a direct lift from their work) during his formative years. For those who only know a handful of their work (The Red Shoes, The Life & Death of Colonel Blimp, A Matter of Life & Death, Peeping Tom & Black Narcissus to name a few), here's your chance to get a more comprehensive picture of what made them so great which w/a tour guide as knowledgeable (his longtime editor Thelma Schoonmaker is Powell's widow) as Scorsese is, you can't go wrong.

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.

Interesting if flawed bio doc of England's greatest film making duo. Ironically, what is most engaging about it is also what becomes most tiresome, namely Martin Scorsese. His analyses of the pair's great films are cogent and I like it that he does not omit their lesser efforts, especially in the later years, so that the film manages to steer clear of the too hagiographic. And the affection that Scorsese has for Powell is commmunicated without excessive schmaltz, and is the warmer for it. But after awhile I had a reaction that I hardly ever have with documentaries, namely that this thing could use a few more talking heads! Seen only from the vantage point of one person P/P, the humans, tend to disappear. It would have been nice, for example, to hear from at least one of Powell's three wives (or even to be informed that the guy was married three times). This would have been relatively easy since the last of Powell's spouses was Scorsese's longtime film editor, Thelma Schoonmaker. But no. No one, except the subjects themselves, in interviews, is allowed to intrude on the Voice of Marty. And in a doc about Powell and Pressburger I sure as hell didn't need to know, in some detail, how their films influenced "Raging Bull". In other words, about a fourth of the way through I began to sense a certain outside, outsize ego, like Brooklyn ivy, choking off the subject. And this feeling only kept expanding. B minus.