new books for review: Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Televisio

IAMHIST received copies of the following books and is looking for reviewers (Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television). If you are interested, just send a message (mentioning the full title of the book) to the associate and book review editors Ciara Chambers : iamhistreviews@gmail.com. It would help if you could tell us a bit about your own research and expertise and/or why you are interested in reviewing this title. Please do also communicate your full postal address in case the book is still available for review.

 

JUST IN:

Burke, Wendy. Images of Occupation in Dutch Film. Amsterdam University Press, 2017.

http://en.aup.nl/books/9789089648549-images-of-occupation-in-dutch-film.html

 

Chatterji, Shoma A. The Cinema of Bimal Roy. Sage, 2017.

https://in.sagepub.com/en-in/sas/the-cinema-of-bimal-roy/book258442

 

Deocampo, Nick (ed). Early Cinema in Asia. Indiana University Press, 2017.

http://www.iupress.indiana.edu/product_info.php?products_id=808851

 

Fischer, Thomas and Thomas Schuhbauer. Geschichte in Film und Fernsehen: Theorie-Praxis-Berufsfelder. UTB, 2016.

http://www.utb-shop.de/geschichte-in-film-und-fernsehen-9296.html

 

Handyside, Fiona. Sofia Coppola: A Cinema of Girlhood. I.B. Tauris, 2017.

http://www.ibtauris.com/books/the%20arts/film%20tv%20%20radio/films%20cinema/film%20theory%20%20criticism/sofia%20coppola%20a%20cinema%20of%20girlhood

 

Jacobs, Steven et al. Screening Statues: Sculpture and Cinema. Edinburgh University Press, 2017.

https://edinburghuniversitypress.com/book-screening-statues.html

 

Long, Christian B. The Imaginary Geography of Hollywood Cinema 1960-2000. University of Chicago Press, 2017.

http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/distributed/I/bo27342816.html

 

Mollet, Tracey Louise. Cartoons in Hard Times: The Animated Shorts of Disney and Warner Brothers in Depress and War 1932-1945. Bloomsbury, 2017.

https://www.bloomsbury.com/au/cartoons-in-hard-times-9781501328749/

 

Ostrowska, Dorota et al (eds). Popular Cinemas in East Central Europe. I.B. Tauris, 2017.

http://www.ibtauris.com/books/the%20arts/film%20tv%20%20radio/films%20cinema/popular%20cinemas%20in%20central%20europe%20a%20film%20history

 

Paulicelli, Eugenia et al (eds). Film, Fashion and the 1960s. Indiana University Press, 2017.

http://www.iupress.indiana.edu/product_info.php?products_id=808857

 

Ravetto-Biagioli. Mythopoetic Cinema: On the Ruins of European Identity. Columbia University Press, 2017.

https://cup.columbia.edu/book/mythopoetic-cinema/9780231182195

 

Schulman Bruce J. and Julian E. Zelizer. Media Nation: the Political History of News in Modern America. University of Pennsylvania Press, 2017.

http://www.upenn.edu/pennpress/book/15656.html

 

Schmid, Marion. Chantal Akerman. Manchester University Press, reprinted 2017.

http://www.manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk/9780719077166/

 

Strandgaard Jensen, Helle. From Superman to Social Realism: Children’s Media and Scandinavian Childhood. John Benhamins,

https://benjamins.com/#catalog/books/clcc.6/main

 

 

BOOKS THAT ARE STILL AVAILABLE FROM EARLIER LISTS:

 

Hagener, Malte, Vinzenz Hediger and Alena Strohmaier (eds). The State of Post Cinema. Palgrave Macmillan, 2016.

http://www.palgrave.com/gb/book/9781137529381

 

Casetti, Francesco (ed). Early Film Theories in Italy 1896-1922. Amsterdam University Press, 2017.

http://en.aup.nl/books/9789089648556-early-film-theories-in-italy-1896-1922.html

 

Zimmermann, Patricia R. and Scott MacDonald (eds). The Flaherty: Decades in the Cause of Independent Cinema. Indiana University Press, 2017.

http://www.iupress.indiana.edu/product_info.php?products_id=808635

 

Carlsson, Ulla and David Goldberg (eds). The Legacy of Peter Forsskål: 250 Years of Freedom of Expression. Nordicom, 2017.

http://www.nordicom.gu.se/en/publikationer/legacy-peter-forsskal

 

Schrey, Domink. Analoge Nostalgie In Der Digitalen Medienkultur. Kulturverlag Kadmos, 2017.

http://www.kulturverlag-kadmos.de/buch/analoge-nostalgie-in-der-digitalen-medienkultur.html

 

Frankel, Glenn. High Noon: The Hollywood Blacklist and the Making of an American Classic. Bloomsbury, 2017.

https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/high-noon-9781620409480/

 

Winston, Brian, Gail Vanstone and Wang Chi. The Art of Documenting: Documentary in the 21st Century.  Bloomsbury, 2017.

https://www.google.ie/search?q=brian+winston+the+art+of+documenting&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&client=firefox-b-ab&gws_rd=cr&dcr=0&ei=xdevWbr3LMjXgAbosoDYBg

 

Taylor-Jones, Kate. Divine Work, Japanese Colonial Cinema and its Legacy. Bloomsbury, 2017.

https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/divine-work-japanese-colonial-cinema-and-its-legacy-9781501306136/

 

Oldham, Joseph. Paranoid Visions: Spies, Conspiracies and the Secret State in British Television Drama. Manchester University Press, 2017.

http://www.manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk/9781784994150/

 

Chaplin, Felicity. La Parisienne in Cinema: Between Art and Life.  Manchester University Press, 2017.

http://www.manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk/9781526109538/

 

Mai, Joseph. Robert Guédiguian. Manchester University Press, 2017.

http://www.manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk/9780719096471/

 

Macror, Alison. Rewrite Man: the Life and Career of Screenwriter Warren Skaaren. University of Texas Press, 2017.

https://utpress.utexas.edu/books/alison-macor-rewrite-man

‘Does it have Hitler in the title?’: Broadcasting History on Television

Michael Cove, Head Writer, WildBear Entertainment

14 November 2017


With the diversification – or, perhaps, fragmentation – of the broadcast television market, factual programming has found itself corralled into specialised outlets.  The fate of history-themed programs is typical, more hours are being produced, but the great majority of them are finding homes either on dedicated channels (“Yesterday”. “History”) or on subscription outlets which, equally, create and appeal to niche markets (Amazon Prime).  For the writer/producer in the history space this focusing of the market carries both opportunities and liabilities.

The opportunity, of course, is that there is a larger market for output, though this is moderated slightly by the limited budgets such outlets typically make available.  The liability is to offer material to an audience that has an established interest in, and knowledge of, the subject matter.  Mistakes are sure to generate emails from unexpected corners of the globe.

That all of this exists within a commercial reality confronts the program maker with a further fact – not all history is equally saleable.  Which, without too much exaggeration, could be characterised by the question: Does it have Hitler in the title?

Everywhere, Hitler, the Third Reich, more broadly the Second World War are seen as the most bankable of the history stories – which explains the existence of Uncle Hitler, Hitler the Junkie, Supernatural Nazis and many more (these are real titles).

This appetite is cheerfully fed by program makers because the content exists – in the form of archive material (pre-1900 and even pre-1920 life gets hard).  Of course, archive is not a limitless resource, there is only so much footage of Munich or Nuremberg, D-Day or Hiroshima.  Strangely, the dedicated core audience does not seem to mind this unduly and viewer feedback not infrequently includes a slightly surprised “even contains some footage I had not seen before!”

This limited amount of archive material – and each individual production further restricts its archive because of licensing costs – encourages reversioning.  Upscaling the material to HD perhaps, or “colourising” the B&W footage.

Where the program is being produced out of a market that is almost self-supporting, the use of on-camera talent – particularly of a name that helps to boost ratings – is a common practice in history programming.  But for an independent production company away from the main centres, like the one for which I work in Australia, international success across broad markets is an economic necessity.  And this speaks against the use of the onscreen presenter – regrettably, for such a device makes narrative structure and the filling of screentime a fairly straightforward business.  But onscreen presenters are not appreciated in the international market where foreign language versions that replace the so-called “voice of God” narrator are much easier to organise and to sell on to the viewer.

These, then, are some of the parameters that influence the choice of topic, its development and decisions concerning creative execution that someone like me needs to address.  They are not – or should not be – the only issues.  The greater the requirement on an individual to take carriage of the production, the more important it is that the subject matter encourages a personal investment.  My work practice, necessarily, means coming up with an idea, conducting the research, writing the script, finding the participants, conducting the interviews, creating the integrated script and overseeing all of the steps of production.  I cannot imagine being able to do that effectively with a topic in which I had no interest.

Having offered a topic – and been approved for development – I imagine that the next question is one with which academics are very familiar: what can I say about this that has not been said before?  The answer, to return to the point I made above, may partly be answered by a technical/creative initiative – first time in HD, first time in colour and so on.  Titles like World War Two from Space are in the same category and adding 3-D animation is a variant.  Another production novelty – not using the word in a pejorative way – could be the contributors, whether expert or eyewitness.

In my view, these features add marketing benefits to a program – they can be the USP that the agents and others whose responsibility it is to sell productions are so keen to identify.  But they are not a substitute for a perspective or point of view that validates the program.

The last four history-based productions for which I have been responsible were all traversing familiar territory and in a basically familiar way: each was substantially clip-based – that is, each drew heavily on the footage archives to which the production company had access – and each incorporated original interviews.  One of the two two-part series that I have made in collaboration with CCTV10 (China Central Television) had new, original footage of locations relevant to the story, the original material in the other three series was limited to interviews.  Other productions with which I have been involved as writer have additionally used historically informed re-enactment (particularly World War 1 narratives).

The longest of the series for which I have been responsible, The Price of Empire, was thirteen episodes attempting to tell the global story of the Second World War.  It was decided that a “USP” would be scaling all of the archive to HD.  I was not entirely persuaded of the benefits, but when I began to see the material in this form, and observe details in the image not previously clear, I was converted.  My own creative decision for the series was that the contributory interviews would be limited to eyewitnesses and I interviewed fifty people from fourteen countries, mostly veterans of the fighting, but also Holocaust and Hiroshima survivors.

My most recent program, in eight episodes, tells a complicated story of the years 1919-1939 under the title Impossible Peace.  All of the interviews for this program were with academics (38 of them) covering the spectrum of content.  There are limitations in terms of the archive and we settled on a strong, visual style of multiple screens which in part helps to accommodate the limitation and in part to refresh familiar images; more importantly, it was a visual way of reinforcing the thematic foundation of the program, the idea of many things happening, simultaneously, sometimes with connections, sometimes not, but always with some degree of effect.  To achieve such visual effects when I entered the industry, as a trainee assistant film editor at the BBC in 1966, would have been prohibitively expensive and have taken weeks in a film laboratory.  For program makers it is by exploring new ways of telling familiar stories that we can hope to hold, and add to, our audience.



Michael Cove was born in London, attended the London Film School and joined the BBC in film editing.  He worked in film editing following migration to Australia before becoming a full-time writer in 1974.  In a freelance career spanning 25 years, he wrote for every medium and every genre – feature film, theatre, radio drama and every type of television program.  In 1998 he joined a small production company in Canberra.  It is now a large production company outputting multiple hours of factual programming for international broadcast.  The company’s particular areas of interest are history, natural history, and science and technology.  Cove’s main contribution has been to the history slate.


Disclaimer: The IAMHIST Blog is a platform that offers individual scholars the opportunity to present their work and thoughts. They alone are responsible for the content, which does not represent the view of the IAMHIST council or other IAMHIST members.

 

 

A day at the archives… The National Archives at Kew (UK)

Llewella Chapman, University of East Anglia

7 November 2017


Following Tobias Hochscherf and Roel Vande Winkel’s excellent blog on visiting the German National Archive (Bundesarchiv) in Berlin, I thought that I would write about my personal experience of visiting the National Archives at Kew. As a PhD student and a film historian, I have visited a small number of UK-based archives beyond the National Archives to conduct my research, including the BBC Written Archives Centre, the British Film Institute, Film Finances, the Stanley Kubrick Archive (University of the Arts, London) and the Consumer Culture Collection held in Southampton Solent University’s Mountbatten Library. The National Archives is one of my favourites so far. As stated by Sue Harper in her blog entitled ‘The Boundaries of Genre: History, Impendence and Flow’: ‘I am one of those sad creatures whose happiest hours have been spent in the National Archives’.

I first encountered the National Archives in 2016, which I admit was something of a fortuitous accident on my part. As part of conducting research for my PhD, which focusses on the historic relationship between Hampton Court Palace (where I used to work as a State Apartment Warder) and the film and television industries, I intended to visit the British Film Institute based on London’s Southbank while my fiancé visited the National Archives. It turned out that the BFI was closed on that particular day, so I joined my fiancé for a date at the National Archives.

After having had a quick browse on the archive catalogue ‘Discovery’, which I feel is excellently designed and very accessible, I discovered that the National Archives holds documents on the filming and photography policy relating to Hampton Court Palace (for anyone who is interested, these files are part of the Office/Ministry of Works department), and so off I went in search of discovering papers that might assist in my PhD research. I did not leave disappointed – it is where I received my first ‘eureka-in-the-archives’ moment, and this is a feeling that I will never forget!

The National Archives (originally the Public Records Office, and if I’m honest, I lament the change of its name) is, as its website explains, ‘the official archive and publisher for the UK government and guardians of over 1,000 years of iconic national documents’. It is based near Kew Retail Park, and is accessible either by train, bus or car. If you are arriving by train, from London you can either take the District tube line to Kew Gardens, or take a train to Kew Bridge from either London Waterloo or Woking via Hounslow and Staines. By bus, you can take the R68 from Hampton Court via Richmond which terminates just outside the archive itself. This is the route that I usually take, and I find that there something very satisfying about travelling on the entire route for £1.50 using an Oyster Card.

  

Views on the R68 bus route

Further details as to how to access the National Archives can be found here: [How to find us]. The National Archives is open between Tuesdays and Saturdays, and is open from 9 a.m. On Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays, it closes at 5 p.m., and on Tuesdays and Thursdays 7 p.m.

On arrival, don’t be deterred by the appearance of the building (which I have anecdotally heard described as looking like ‘a large municipal carpark’)! The building, in my view, may not be particularly pretty in terms of design; but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and for me the beauty of the National Archives lies in the treasure offered within it, and not by the shell in which the documents are held.

You will need a reader’s ticket to view original documents within the National Archives reading rooms, and you can either register for this online within six weeks of your intended visit, or you can register for a reader’s ticket on the day of your visit. Further details can be found here: [reader’s ticket]. Personally, I recommend ordering your reader’s ticket online as you can order up to 12 documents in advance of your visit (provided you include your email address), and it saves time on entering the archive. When you arrive, whether you have ordered your reader’s ticket in advance or want to register on the day, you will be directed to the ‘reader registration area’, where staff will take a photograph of you for your reader’s ticket before issuing it to you. You will also need to place your belongings in a locker before entering the Document Reading Room, and the National Archives provides a handy list of what you are allowed to take in: [What can I take in to the reading rooms?]. Once you have swiped your reader’s card through the barrier to enter the Document Reading Room, then the fun can begin!

Unlike the fight for the elusive ‘locker key number one’ as reported by Tobias and Roel on visiting the Bundesarchiv, there is no such fight, as far as I am aware, for this at the National Archives. This may be because it is broken (at time of writing). I would suggest, however, that instead there is more a melée over the tables based in the Document Reading Rooms. This is combatted by the ability to pre-order documents and to be able to request seats at certain tables. You can pre-order documents and book which table you would like to sit at here: [advance order form]. I like to sit at table 44 or 46 in the ‘Quiet Zone’ as here you can get a lovely view from the window. As well as the ‘Quiet Zone’, there is also a ‘Main Zone’ and a ‘Group Zone’, which is useful for people working as part of a team on research projects so that they can discuss documents. If you don’t mind where you sit, then you can just turn up on the day and you will be automatically assigned a seat at random.

Study areas in the Document Reading Room: Green = Quiet Zone, Blue = Main Zone, Orange = Group Zone

Once the documents you have ordered arrive (this can take around 45 minutes if you order them on the day) they are placed in a cubby hole, which is numbered and lettered in relation to the seat you have been assigned.

 

Usefully, you can take out and replace files as and when you wish in case you want to review them later. The National Archives allows photography (without flash) in the reading rooms; you can either bring your own device (camera or mobile phone), and you can also choose to sit at a table specially designated for this purpose which include camera stands. Alternatively, you can use the ‘Self Service Copying’ space with cameras provided. You can either print copies of your documents out on the day (at a small charge), or alternatively email them to yourself, which is free of charge. The staff are brilliant – they have always been really helpful when I needed to ask them something, and most especially when I had to be locked in a special room to view sensitive papers held in a particular file (though that is a story for another time)!

One of my favourite files is WORK 19/1129: ‘Official attitude to photography and film crews within the Palace and grounds, 1919-1935’, which greatly assisted my PhD thesis in terms of understanding the historic policy in relation to allowing the production of film at Hampton Court Palace. In this file, there is some wonderful, and very humorous, correspondence between the Office of Works, the Lord Chamberlain’s Office and London Film Productions in relation to The Private Life of Henry VIII (Alexander Korda, 1933) in response to a request from the production company to film parts of it around Hampton Court.

The gist of the correspondence is that Sir Henry David St Leger Brooke Selwyn Cunynghame (known as David), production manager for The Private Life of Henry VIII, wrote to the Office of Works in May 1933 to obtain their permission to film at Hampton Court.

The Office of Works allowed permission to London Film Productions on the provision that filming would be conducted before 9 a.m. so as not to disturb residents and visitors at the Palace. Cunynghame was disappointed by this response, and attempted in several ways to be allowed permission to film during the day at the site. These included getting his father, Sir Percy Cunynghame, to approach Samuel Hoare at the India Office. When this proved unsuccessful, Cunynghame then appealed through his mother’s friend, Bertha Dawkins, to Sir Clive Wigram, Private Secretary to the Sovereign. The Office of Works were not particularly impressed by Cunynghame’s approach regarding this matter, as can be understood from the correspondence between Wigram and Sir Patrick Duff, Permanent Secretary at the Office of Works in relation to this matter:

What Mr. Cunynghame wants… is permission to photograph all day at Hampton Court Palace so as to get through the work in the very shortest possible time. This would save his Company expense, and, as he very reasonably observes, the fewer the visits which the Company paid the less trouble they would give. This might be alright if Mr. Cunynghame were the only pebble on the beach: but the fact is that we have other applications from film companies, and if one company is allowed to work at Hampton Court at any hour of the day one would have to give the same concession to anyone else who asked for it. [i]

Duff also expressed his concern about the possible disturbance which might be caused to residents and visitors if filming were to be allowed during the day: ‘I know that if I were paying a visit to Hampton Court Palace and found the place full of film people rehearsing and “shots”, as they call it, being taken, I should feel that the dignity and beauty of the place was destroyed’. Wigram concurred, responding succinctly:

Thank you for your letter regarding Mr. Cunynghame. He is, as I was afraid, a tiresome fellow and I will answer him on the lines you suggest. [ii]

Due to the refusal from the Office of Works and the Lord Chamberlain’s Office, The Private Life of Henry VIII was not filmed at the site except for the film’s opening shot of Hampton Court’s archway, and instead was filmed on location at Hatfield House and in studio at the British and Dominions Imperial Studios at Elstree. It was the discovery of this file which afforded me my first ‘eureka-in-the-archives’ moment!

Once I leave the National Archives at closing time, I like to pay a visit to the local establishment, The Tap on the Line, which is set on the platform of Kew Gardens Station:

This lovely pub is a great place to have a chat with colleagues about the research you’ve accomplished, or if you are a lone researcher, sit and unwind after a productive day trawling through documents. After reading this blog, if you happen to see me frequenting this pub after a spending time at the National Archives, do come over and say hello – mine’s a gin and tonic! Chin chin.


[i] TNA WORK 19/1129: Duff to Wigram, 14 June 1933.

[ii] TNA WORK 19/1129: Wigram to Duff, 15 June 1933.


Llewella Chapman is a PhD student at the University of East Anglia. Her doctoral research focuses on the use of film and television in the UK heritage industry with particular reference to the representation of Henry VIII and Hampton Court Palace. She has published on fashion and lifestyle as promoted in the James Bond films, and is currently under contract with I. B. Tauris to write a monograph entitled Fashioning James Bond: Costume, Gender and Identity in the World of 007. Her research interests include British cinema and television history, fashion, costume and gender, and hanging around a variety of archives and nearby bars.


Disclaimer: The IAMHIST Blog is a platform that offers individual scholars the opportunity to present their work and thoughts. They alone are responsible for the content, which does not represent the view of the IAMHIST council or other IAMHIST members.

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