In which silent
Londoners come down to the seaport in cars, momentarily confuse HMS Warrior
with Victory and enjoy a slap-up fish and chips supper between naval adventures.
My cousin Bruce
is a Royal Marine, he flies helicopters and has served in Afghanistan and Iraq
in his time: a lad from a South Liverpool comprehensive who is now a Colonel
and even helped teach a prince how to fly. I say this not just because I’m
proud of Bruce but also because it illustrates the enduring opportunities the
Royal Navy has offered to people regardless of class: if you have ability you
can progress as Lambert and other commentators support, it was possible to
advance based on ability even in the more structured society of the late 18th
Century.
Nelson left
home to join the navy partly to alleviate the financial pressures on his father
as the family struggled after the death of his mother. He was just 14 and far
from the finest physical specimen and he even gets invalided out at one point,
but nothing can stop his eventual rise. In all of this he is encouraged by his
uncle, Captain Suckling, although not to the extent of favours.
Donald Calthorpe is Nelson |
This is one of
many inspiration themes in Maurice Elvey’s likeable bio-picture made with in
the last year of the Great War with inspiration as the aim. But whilst Nelson - or Nelson; The Story of England's Immortal Naval Hero - is certainly
propaganda, it takes its facts and its audience very seriously. Nelson’s
biography plays out with a minimum of gilded lilies and Elvey shows us major
sea battles as forensically as possible with the aid of models, a chalk board
and stop-motion ships.
Elvey is here to salute the positives and is relatively subtle in this work. As Powell and Pressburger were later to show, to make good propaganda, you have to be fair to the opposition: hate isn’t enough especially when compared with pride and the need to do your duty. Here, as in actuality, Nelson’s last words were “thank God I did my duty” and there were more than enough reliable witnesses to his last hours as confirmed by Andrew Lambert in his excellent biography - Nelson: Britannia's God of War.
Elvey is here to salute the positives and is relatively subtle in this work. As Powell and Pressburger were later to show, to make good propaganda, you have to be fair to the opposition: hate isn’t enough especially when compared with pride and the need to do your duty. Here, as in actuality, Nelson’s last words were “thank God I did my duty” and there were more than enough reliable witnesses to his last hours as confirmed by Andrew Lambert in his excellent biography - Nelson: Britannia's God of War.
Nelson's women: Ivy Close as Mrs Nesbitt and Malvina Longfellow as Emma Lady Hamilton |
Lucie has waited a long time for this film to be screened again - as have I - and, having watched it on the BFI Player, I have to say it was so much more splendid on screen. Yes, the film is overly deliberate from time to time and feels limited in comparison to Lloyd George yet, not only was the director on a strict schedule and budget, he also had to re-shoot his scenes aboard HMS Victory and other sequences lost in a fire. To this day, this remains the only time the Nelson story has been filmed on the Victory and Elvey certainly felt a chill filming his main character’s death scene on the actual spot in which he died.
Roll call after the siege of Bastia |
The film was a big hit and Lucie read out some reactions from schoolchildren most of whom had been impressed with our hero’s tussle with an unconvincing polar bear… clearly far more impactful for less-jaded eyes.
You can read my more detailed appraisal of the film here – it was a greater film with this screening and South West Silents are to be commended for arranging the weekend of Battleship Silents (Potemkin played on Friday night).
Maurice Elvey |
Another feature of live performance is the accompaniment and we were blessed with the fascinating contrapuntal partnership of Stephen Horne and Martin Pyne. The two combined seamlessly on plenty of martial lines but also tripped off into more exotic tones one Nelson was in Egypt, his famous victory over Napoleon proceeded by jazzy rim shots, and excellent combinations from Mr Pyne on timpani and the bass drums. It’s fascinating to watch him work with Stephen Horne and it’s different from say the duo of Horne and Bockius: both percussionists put so much character in their playing. This suits Stephen very well and the next day I was to watch him accompanied by Elizabeth Jane Baldry on Harp… modern silent accompaniment is not just between the artistes and the screen but also between each other and the results are among the most rewarding improvisations you’ll hear anywhere.
Zeebrugge (1924)
We also had
Stephen and Martyn accompanying the earlier screening of Zeebrugge (1924) which was a much more focused affair. Made by
British Instructional Films (also known later for the films of Walter Summers,
such as The Battles of Coronel and
Falkland Islands (1927)) run by Harry Bruce Woolfe whose connections with a
military very keen to make “celluloid memorials” celebrating key events of the
Great War, explains their quite detailed approach – name checks for VCs and
diagrammatic reconstructions, a record of what happened for the millions at home
still grieving.
HMS Vindictive for the film |
The story details
the attempt to block the German Submarine base in the Bruges
Canal by sinking three old cargo ships. The raid involved a flotilla of battleships led by HMS Vindictive, along with motor patrol baots and, surprisingly, the Mersey ferry boats
Royal Iris and Daffodil. I was disappointed that the
Royal Iris wasn’t the same vessel that used to ferry me across the Mersey but
even so my Grandparents would have been passengers, although my and Colonel Bruce’s
Grandad was busy in the middle East and India in the Great War.
The first Royal Iris |
It's almost a century since the war ended but we should never take these sacrifices for granted.
HMS Victory |
HMS Warrior at sunset |
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