Produced in the aftermath of the Second World War, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's A Matter of Life and Death (1946) stars David Niven as an RAF pilot poised between life and death, his love for the American radio operator June (Kim Hunter) threatened by medical, political and ultimately celestial forces. The film is a magical, profound fantasy and a moving evocation of English history and the wartime experience, with virtuoso Technicolor special effects. In the United States it was released under the title Stairway to Heaven , referencing one of its most famous images, a moving stairway between earth and the afterlife.
Ian Christie's study of the film shows how its creators drew upon many sources and traditions to create a unique form of modern masque, treating contemporary issues with witty allegory and enormous visual imagination. He stresses the teamwork of Powell and Pressburger's gifted collaborators, among them Director of Photography Jack Cardiff, production designer Alfred Junge, and costume designer Hein Heckroth, and explores the history of both British and international responses to the film. Christie argues that the film deserves to be thought of as one of the greatest achievements of British cinema, but of all cinema.
I'm always surprised when people suggest I'm into films, because really I'm into a very narrow band of films, obsessively, of which A Matter of Life and Death (I did not like the abbreviation AMOLAD, but apparently it dates to the making of the film so I guess I'm stuck with it) is one.
I love the what might have beens of films: the deleted scenes, the dialogue changed, the actors not cast. Sometimes it's tantalising, sometimes it's more 'thank goodness somebody saw sense on that one'. So the section on the production of the film was especially interesting, but I also enjoyed reading about its reception on release, and of course the way it continues to be reassessed and reinterpreted.
This was a lovely little book (it could easily have been twice as long) and I'm looking forward to reading the one on From Russia With Love.
Only the second BFI Film Classics book I've read, and much closer than the first to what I wanted from the series, a sort of celluloid 33 1/3. Christie nearly lost me at the start with his blithe insistence that the film is known as "AMOLAD to all admirers"; like him, I recognise it as the best film ever, but I've never used that abbreviation, and even having finished the book, my first instinct on seeing it is to assume the Legion of Super-Heroes has a new member with conjugation powers. Still, once that's out of the way he's soon motoring, bringing in everything from his own initial cultural cringe regarding his love of the film, to the history of Technicolor. Deviations of the finished product from earlier scripts and designs are examined, as are possible influences and legacies - though, curiously, two of the films it most frequently seems to prefigure are ones the Archers never eventually made, adaptations of The Tempest and The Pilgrim's Progress. And while initial critical reception was more mixed than such a masterpiece deserved, I found something oddly reassuring in seeing various idiocies I associate with modern responses to movies already in place nearly 80 years ago: a leaden insistence that fantasy and spectacle divorced from real human problems is no fit subject for cinema (combined, of course, with an asinine obliviousness to the presence of just such material anyway); outrage at a film supposedly propagating views which it merely represents; disquiet at any cultural artefact which is above clearly signalling how the audience are supposed to take it.
These BFI books are excellent in giving you a context and an exploration of the layers to movies. The reaction of the time, the process of creation and subsequent thought are summarised excellently. Now to go back and rewatch.
Of course, this book does not stand alone. Presumably you have seen AMOLAD if you are on Goodreads reading this review.
Christie does an admirable job of setting context and briefly treating "the making of", while leaving most of the short 79 pages to historical and cinematic (nearly literary) analysis. And, there he is able to draw on a wealth of knowledge. He stands next to Scorsese and Schoonmaker-Powell as a foremost living expert on The Archers.
If you've bothered to find this book then it is certainly a book for you - and for you to revel in, disagree with, and learn by.
A brilliant essay on a truly remarkable film. it touches upon the films many themes, production, influences and places them all within its contemporary context. highly informative and a brilliant little read.
Es el primero de estos cuadernos del BFI que leo y me ha encantado. Traza todo una red de conexiones e influencias literarias, culturales, políticas, etc. en torno a la obra maestra de la que trata, concentrando una alto nivel de interés en una lectura breve.