British Film: An Industry In Its Current Form Doomed To Fail

There is a trailer on television at the moment for a programme that is guaranteed to get my hackles up every time I see it. The trailer in question involves a Michael Caine-a-like voiceover, proclaiming that there was a period during the 1960s when everybody wanted to get involved in British Cinema, even, the familiar cockney intonation explains, the big wigs in Hollywood. To really ram this point home, the programme in question is called Hollywood UK, named I can only assume, to denote to the viewer the power and sway held by the British over the industry at the time. My argument is not necessarily with the suggestion that Sixties British cinema was in some way distinctive or popular, it is the way in which the advert measures the success of the cinema itself.

Let me explain. It is not unfair to argue that British cinema has suffered from a lack of enduring success, incalculable flash-in-the-pan peaks and unfortunately all too regular troughs, both economically and artistically from its conception. Indeed, the greatest period of British cinema history can be found in the earliest part of the last century, with such international successes as James Williamson’s 1901 film Stop Thief and Cecil Hepworth’s 1905 early thriller Rescued By Rover. Yet following the First World War, Britain’s monetary status was damaged, and thus its film industry struggled also. It now had a competitor in both these spheres, the fast growing United States of America, a country that had suddenly morphed from being a debtor to a creditor nation. It is often argued that when compared to the US, British cinema (and trade) has never even come close to replicating its former colony’s triumphs. Frequently, throughout the last century, Britain has compared its cinematic achievements to Hollywood, notably in the aftermath of some kind of international box office hit. A tag line on the poster for the Nineties romantic comedy Four Weddings And A Funeral proclaims proudly that it is a US blockbuster. Thus, it has become the case the “cinematic success” is defined very much in comparison to an American market. Reading between the lines, we can perhaps suggest that by this, success is primarily measured in its economic value. This of course is not something that subsists purely within the British film industry, for many other artists join their filmmaking counterparts – musicians, actors – in having impressions of going to America to “make it big”, as if their creative and/or commercial accomplishments in the UK are only a stepping stone on the way to true acclaim.

In my opinion, this type of attitude has been a great hindrance to any real development within British filmmaking. To look at a few of the commercial international successes of the past decade, we can see the aforementioned Four Weddings And A Funeral, alongside Billy Elliot, Notting Hill, Love Actually, Bridget Jones and The Full Monty, to name but a few. Add to this the awkward Guy Ritchie inspired gangster period, there appears to me personally one major factor that describes these films – notably, that they are not all that great. Yes, there are elements of genius in some of these films, but there is little outstanding about them when stripped of their puff and promotion. Equally, there seems to be something of a cyclical theme in each, seeing that they fall effortlessly into a few easily defined categories. First, we have the cockney gangster flick, filled with quick witted Londoners getting up to no good. There is also the gritty ‘realist’ Northern working-class film, usually detailing the results of the post-Thatcher Eighties. There is also the romantic comedy, a genre that British cinema in the last decade has flogged to death, set in chocolate-box England, involving a well-known American actress (Andy McDowell, Julia Roberts, Renee Zellweger) falling in love with a lovable English fop, invariably always played by Hugh Grant. It is with great sadness I note that the British filmmakers’ inferiority complex comes into play in such films, both on camera and off. In Notting Hill for example, Hugh Grant’s horribly middle-class friends are seemingly overwhelmed by the famous actress character played by Julia Roberts, barely able to believe that she is sitting in their house at a dinner party. I have a sneaking suspicion that the directors themselves are also unable to contain their glee at having poached Ms Roberts, Hollywood Oscar winner, to star in their modest (ish) production.

For this is the greatest hurdle British cinema faces, getting over its inability to cease comparing itself to Hollywood. It appears that much of the industry views that the US has set the bar, and Britain has to match it. Exasperatingly, this ignores any kind of cinema that exists outside of the popular mainstream of these two countries. What of the films of China, India, Mexico, Denmark or France? What of the great many national cinemas that exist, whether art house or the conventional majority? For indeed, Britain does not only fail to compare its cinema to these examples, it also excludes practically all films that do not come in an English tongue from its big screen multiplexes. It is considered nothing short of hilarious to think that a British artist may have had some sort of success in a country such as Paraguay or Bosnia or Iran, but why? It is arrogant to assume that cinema is only valuable if it succeeds in a rich, Western country, as if one country of people such as the US has greater artistic discretion than another like the Ukraine. And this of course ignores something that to me is appallingly obvious – most of the output of Hollywood is contrived drivel, embarrassingly formulaic and desperately trying to appeal to the lowest common denominator. For no reason I can understand, we seem to consider the people that create this as purveyors of great taste. This is not to say that the US does not create many wonderful films, indeed, much of the country’s independent film catalogue is truly mind blowing, but it is no greater or worse than the cinema of many other countries.

So why do we rate Hollywood so highly? And why do producers keep stuffing money into uninspired romantic comedies, whilst intelligent dramas never get past the pitch stage? Because, the British and American film industries have become massively entwined, meaning that the vast majority of the money that goes into British cinema comes from American producers, producers that like any cunning business person sees a film as an investment – on the same level as oil, televisions or baked beans – meaning that he or she requires the promise of commercial success and thus return before he or she is willing to put the money up front. The biggest cinema-going public, at least in the West, is of course the US. Nobody wants to pour money into a film that is going to only play to a few humanities students in tiny art cinemas, barely breaking even. Part of the problem of this is the monopolisation of film distribution that exists within the Cinema itself. Cinemas tend to have contracts with particular distributors, enabling certain film companies to dominate the market, pushing anything independent (and often British or foreign) out of the multiplex and into the smaller theatres. Commercial success, unfortunately, often lies in simple, conventional blockbusters, and whilst I am not so much of a cultural snob to deny the general public the cinema for which they often clamour, one cannot but wish that your average person was exposed more frequently to a different, more intelligent type of film, one that suffers from the prejudice that keeps it from a wider audience. It is quite disappointing that on the continent, Ken Loach and Mike Leigh are considered household names, yet in Britain the mention of them or their films often barely raises an expression of recognition.

I am not in anyway advocating the demise of Hollywood or populist cinema; I am merely trying to argue that British cinema should be able to exist outside of the need to compare the former to the latter. British money needs to be pumped into British cinema that is intelligent, inspiring and something that truly reflects the people it is meant to represent. If Britain cannot favourably compare itself commercially to Hollywood, then why not artistically? This can only be achieved of course if the British film industry shakes off the shackles of big money backers and instead turns to more low-budget, high quality cinema. Good films do not require famous and expensive actors, nor do they require CGIs or special effects. Good films require an intelligent script, a sharp director and high-quality acting, something that I find it hard to believe that we are anything short of in this country.

By K Blythe

Copyright September 2005