Showing posts with label Hippfest 24. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hippfest 24. Show all posts

Sunday, 24 March 2024

Jenny Gilbertson's slice of life... The Rugged Island: A Shetland Lyric (1933), with Inge Thomson, Catriona Macdonald, HippFest at Home


"Jenny seems to have lifted the soul of that time in the islands and left it hanging up on the screen for future generations to see and feel part of."

Douglas Mackinnon


This film sits amongst better-known works of the thirties showing island life on the extremes but actually predates both Robert J. Flaherty’s docudrama Man of Aran (1934) – the Irish island, not Arran – and Michael Powell’s drama The Edge of the World (1937). Director Jenny Gilbertson (née Brown) had made a number of short documentaries and was encouraged to make this film by the great Scottish documentary filmmaker John Grierson, director of Drifters (1929) and the man who coined the term "documentary" in a review of Flaherty's Moana (1926).


The result is every inch as powerfully evocative as these other films with Jenny’s previous experience of the island, the documentary A Crofter’s Life in Shetland (1931), showing a year in the life of the rugged folk of Hjaltland… more Norse than Gallic and only 30 miles closer to Scotland than Norway. She was self-trained and this is even more remarkable when you consider that she not only wrote but filmed and edited her work.


There’s a discussion of Gilbertson’s work on the HippFest at Home/Falkirk Leisure and Culture You Tube channel from academics Dr Shona Main and Dr Sarah Neely, introduced by Alison Strauss, and it’s fascinating to see her journey from middle-class Glasgow beginnings to university, teaching and on to such inventive independent filmmaking. She had a passion for capturing ways of life far removed from the contemporary comforts of her upbringing and she was able to engage the locals in such a way that, as John Grierson said, had “…already broken through the curse of artificiality and is on her way to becoming a real filmmaker, an illuminator of life and movement”.


There was also an introduction from Janet McBain founding Curator, Scottish Screen Archive, who knew Jenny and remembered her as a "pocket dynamo" later in life. She took us through Jenny's career and her documentary shorts made for the GPO including In Sheep's Clothing (1932) screened before the main film with accompaniment from Stephen Horne. She didn't fully appreciate at the time how pioneering Jenny had been until the work of academic like Shona and Sarah. This is not surprising when you consider as Janet says, the films were found rotting in a henhouse but were subsequently restored by the SSA in 1997 and reprinted. Blessed are the Archivists... and the Festival Directors.


John Gilbertson and Enga Stout

The Rugged Island is so intimate it feels like a genuine intrusion on the lives being portrayed, the irony here being that Gilbertson’s was sometimes described as an “amateur” and yet clearly she was consummate in terms of technique and direction with only one professional actor - Enga Stout – with the rest being her friends and others she’d cast locally. Her editing is also so precise here in terms of capturing the detail of the performers including her substantial animal cast – Flora the dog and Caddie the lamb - to create such a warm narrative whole.


The story involves Enga and her beloved Johnny (John Gilberston who Jenny went on to marry) who face the choice of emigrating to Australia or staying to fulfil their duties in looking after their aging parents – something Jenny’s own mother expected of her. The economy of these islands was changing and trawling was replacing line fishing and industrialising what had been the mainstay of Shetlands’ way of life. This is reflected in a detailed way as we see Johnny and the men catching fish on the line – they have to, as there’s not much else to eat – then later trawling pulling in hundreds of fish.


The narrative works in so much of the day-to-day lives as the seasons change and events complicate their choices. Jenny’s camera is right inside the cramped crofters’ cottages – interiors built by the multi-tasking John Gilbertson whose parents and sister also provide suitable cast members. His best pal Andrew, from Stucca, played Andrew who woos John/Johnny’s sister Maggie and, as Dr Main points out in her HippFest programme notes, only someone with Jenny’s connection to the locale and the people could make a film that is so convincing and thoroughly authentic.



The film is a gorgeously evocative postcard from the past with the location perfectly served by Jenny’s camerawork; seagulls swooping across Shetland skies, as the young couple walk the cliffs and shore staring out to the endless sea of possibilities as they do at the beginning and end. After watch Johnny and the lads fish we see the interiors of the folk at their poached fish supper with bread and tea… a flashback to a childhood memory of my great grandmother McIntyre’s parlour in Liverpool, no electric in her kitchen at all. Her husband was a Glaswegian, and his mother came from a crofter’s cottage on the Isle of Arran.


Then we see the men tilling the land and the discovery of an orphaned sheep quickly adopted by Enga who feeds her from a bottle; no life can be wasted on the isle. There’s potato planting and the whole community working together to same intensive rhythms of necessity; there’s a time to farm and to dig up peat to burn in the winter. The women work together on converting wool into those famous sweaters, making a few shillings to pay for new fishing boots for Johnny from Peter Mouat’s General Merchants, a dealer in Shetland Hosiery.


This is not quite subsistence living but it leaves very little time for idle pondering – I’d be sunk – but Gilbertson interweaves the documentary purpose well with the drama of Inga and Johnny’s dilemma as it places them under pressure as the fishing season does not go well. It’s hard not to compare with Man of Aran and this does feel a more realistic and – this word again – authentic representations. It’s just lovely to look at and cinematically satisfying especially with the new accompaniment.


Everyone knits on Shetland...


This was provided by Inge Thomson and Catriona Macdonald who provided an intoxicating air of emotion and location, even for those of us of Scottish descent watching from home. Catriona is a Shetland fiddle player, Royal College of Music alumni and academic who combines that rich folk tradition together with collaborative and compositional expertise. Inge Thomson is from Fair Isle, Shetlands too, and is a composer, producer, lyricist, multi-instrumentalist and performer.


Together they infused their music with a vibrancy and authenticity to match the filmmakers own. I hope they get a chance to tour the film and music as Alison Strauss suggests.


The last word from Shona: “People can’t quite believe that (these films) exist. … she’s still not known enough, I don’t think she’s appreciated enough…” and, as she says, this is where HippFest comes in. This is peak HippFest, aiding the rediscovery of significant Scottish artists, especially one as ground-breaking as Gilbertson, is part of their core mission and achievements. Again, as the commentators say, the more you see of Jenny G, the more you want to see, the interest only grows the more you want to learn.


I just wish I’d been in the room to fully appreciate the film, music and audience… next year HippFest it’s in the diary!


The video discussion of Gilbertson’s with Dr Shona Main and Dr Sarah Neely is available via this link.

 

There’s also an excellent summation of Gilbertson’s career on the Women’s’ Film Pioneer Project here.

 



 

Friday, 22 March 2024

Not missing out on Mary... Stella Maris (1918) with Meg Morley, Hippfest at Home ‘24


FOMOH… defined in Bo-ness as yon Fear of Missin’ Oot (On) Hippfest is high as I sit in South Cambridge 390 miles away from this year’s event but only inches away thanks to the streaming element of the festival, Hippfest at Home providing a sample pf the atmosphere and the cinematic treats being screened with accompanying piano-cam showing the players at work accompanying the silents and stirring the watcher’s hearts and minds.


Time flies and festivals fly even faster and there was, Alison Strauss the head of Clan Hippfest queuing up a vivacious introductory video from Pamela Hutchinson before introducing one of our finest accompanists, Meg Morley, who proceeded to enhance the extraordinary Stella Maris, one of Mary Pickford’s very best films and in which she gives Lon Chaney a run for his money playing two characters that look almost nothing alike.


She plastered her hair with Vaseline, smudged make up round her eyes to make them appear smaller, darkened her nostrils to make them wider and contorted her body to leave one shoulder higher and her back twisted... Pickford’s conviction and commitment to the roles is astonishing and , if you didn’t know she was both malnourished orphan Unity Blake and the titular bed-ridden privileged princess you’d struggle to recognise the most famous woman of the time…


The Mary we expect.

As Pam said, the dual roles gave Pickford a chance to draw on her impoverished, and abusive, past in deeper ways and with her great collaborator and a featured artist of this festival, Frances Marion scriptwriting, the two were able to create two unforgettable characters and to hint at real darkness. This is no Poor Little Rich Girl… Pickford was choosing her projects and her teams by this stage and this was a story she wanted to really challenge herself as well as the audience.

 

Based on the 1913 novel by William J. Locke, Stella Maris was directed by Marshall Neilan who Pickford compared the director favourably with DW Griffith, she always was a challenge, and felt that their shared Irish heritage helped him get the best out of her. As a result, this was the highest grossing film of 1918, on a level with say Barbie in tickets sold if not pink tinting and confused messaging. Stella Maris knows exactly what it wants to say about poverty and even the way wealthy women are treated by their so-called carers. By this stage Mary must have found much to identify with both her characters and that makes her choice of story all the more powerful and revealing.

 

Pickford is first seen as Miss Stella Maris a tragic young woman born into a wealthy family and yet in poor health: she cannot walk and is kept bedridden, well-protected from the horrors of outdoor life. She lives with her Aunt Julia Lady Eleanor Blount (Ida Waterman) and Uncle Sir Oliver Blount (Herbert Standing). Her favourite visitor is family friend, journalist John Risca (Conway Tearle) with whom she enjoys a fantasy existence of castles and kings. Interesting that she relies on a journalist to not tell her the truth…


The Mary we get.

But John has a darker home life with an alcoholic and abusive wife Louise (an excellent Marcia Manon, clearly having a whale of a time) whose numerous addictions are laid out for all to see: the wicked witch of this story. Listless Louise only ever gets passionate about punishment but is switched on enough to scour the local orphanage for home help in the form of the energetic but under-fed Unity Blake. Face and body posture twisted out of all proportion; Pickford must have suffered for this role in ways that only Chaney would appreciate.

 

Unity fails to meet her new mistresses exacting demands and is savagely beaten only being saved after neighbours here her screams. The police arrive and Louise is imprisoned for her assault. Wracked by guilt, John resolves to look after Unity and brings her into his house where she is looked after by his Aunt Gladys (Josephine Crowell). This upper-class generosity only extends so far though and they all resolve to keep Unity’s existence a secret from the enforced innocence of Stella. Here it is interesting that Stella’s innocence is prescribed by her relatives whilst Unity’s is seemingly just her natural state… in spite of all that she has been through.


Doctors gather to see Stella and decide that her legs can be restored through a new operation. The months pass and gradually she returns to full health. Inevitably she encounters Unity in a stunningly well realised double exposure: this is the tricky part - acting with yourself. By this stage it’s not Unity’s tale that threatens Stella’s fairy-tale world view but the world itself as she sees squads of soldiers marching past her huge garden and the questions keep on coming…


The film doesn't hold back from showing the desperation and brutality

Meanwhile, Louise is released for good behaviour and sets back to her recidivist ways aiming to ruin her estranged husband’s budding romance with the beautiful and unsullied Stella. Yet Unity has also developed feelings for her saviour… There’s a startling moment when she caresses John’s coat on a clothing stand, wrapping its sleeves around her and relishing the imagined intimacy, made almost real by the texture and the smell…


I won’t give away the ending but this is one you should see if you’re looking for Mary Pickford’s best films and if you haven’t already watched her tour de force. It's clearly one of her more political statements as well given the disparity between the two main characters and the disappointments of the rich woman discovering the nature of a world she has been deliberately isolated from. It's almost a fable of Pickford's own journey... she wants to be allowed to be both the woman she was and the successful star; with due respect to all on this spectrum of luck and life.


Meg Morley accompanied with a heart-breaking emotional narrative of her own which hit so many sweet and sour touch points in its intimate entanglement with the two Pickfords. Wonderful skill and sensitivity, I only wish I’d been there to hear it live. Next year no FOMOH!!