Film-Philosophy
Journal | Salon | Portal (ISSN 1466-4615)
Vol. 8 No. 4, January 2003
Jonathan Wright
Rereading the British Social Realist Film:
Samantha Lay's _British Social Realism_
Samantha Lay _British Social Realism: From Documentary
to Brit-Grit_ London:
Wallflower
Press,
2002 ISBN 1-903364-41-8 144 pp. Samantha Lay's comprehensive exploration
of British social realist film -- which also records its
impact on British television -- spans several discursive
spheres of film politics. She begins with formations of
realist film narrative and aesthetics, before considering
audience reception and film distribution. The main chapters
of the book trace the social agendas of the Griersonian
documentary movement of the 1930s, assess the politics of
1950s and 1960s 'Social Problem Film' and the 'Kitchen Sink
Drama', and explore the social politics of 1970s realist
narratives through to the impact of Thatcherism on British
filmmaking. Finally, Lay discusses 1990s British social
realist film ('Brit-Grit') to reflect on the trends and
politics in contemporary social realism and the future for
these types of texts and for British cinema as a national
institution. As a Wallflower Press 'Short Cuts Series'
addition, _British Social Realism: From Documentary to
Brit-Grit_ is a comprehensive, thoughtful, and thorough
investigation into the details of the film theoretical and
cultural discourses involved in social realist cinema. Lay's
book reflects the critical areas and relevant texts
necessary for a solid understanding of the politics of
British social realism, and, in this respect, it is an
important pedagogic resource. _British Social Realism_ is a
well-written, comprehensively researched, indispensable
guide for the higher education student studying film, media,
and cultural studies. As an example of good writing,
intelligent illustration, and clear discussion of key ideas,
this book is something of a rarity. Though these qualities
are very important and should not be under-stated, this is
all I really want to say about Samantha Lay's book in that
particular regard, because I want to concentrate my
discussion on the text's most provocative aspects: its
contribution to debates about the identity of British cinema
and the various roles social realist films play. _British Social Realism_ addresses
debates concerning the representational protocols of British
social realist cinema, the kinds of social agendas to which
it contributes, and the social politics of the filmmakers
themselves. The author also comments on the ways in which
the politics of this film corpus -- as part of the
institution of British cinema -- stands as a representation
of national identity and national cultural life to an
international audience. Lay raises some serious issues about
the discursive nature of social realist cinema in the
constitution of nationhood and its role within the framework
of British social democracy. I want to use my discussion to
further explore these areas and to add some ideas drawn from
my own reading. The first set of issues relates to the
problems involved in mapping the definitive protocols of
realist film and the kind of society (or more specifically,
the forms of social message) it seeks to
represent. The term 'Realism' has often been
confused with 'naturalism', a dramatic idiom used to
describe the attempts by drama to represent the appearance
of 'real' situations. The intention of realism is to
reproduce the 'real' in the guise of 'reality'. [1]
This is done through the construction of cinematic narrative
composed by 'interlocking shots'; [2] the
relationship between those shots creates meaning. Through
the complex 'suture' system where disparate and
contradictory elements of the text are sewn together to form
a coherent textual fabric, the mechanisms of realist film
become transparent. [3] This process conceals the
labour of production: lighting, set design, sound effects,
post-production shot selection, editing process, and all the
technologies involved in film production which are anything
but seamless and unconstructed. Therefore, the prerogative
of cinematic 'realism' is contentious precisely because, as
British filmmaker Jacque Henriques argues, many realist
films are not actually 'true' to reality. [4]
Realist representational strategies, dependent on the
efficiency of their disguise, are grounded in cultural and
social value systems, which define the politics of the
film's images. [5] Through the presentation of
apparently unquestioned images, realist filmmaking is
designed to naturalize and normalize the customs and
practices of the cultural hegemony under which it labours.
The study of realist cinema is 'about how consciousness and
systems of value are created and either bind society
together or illuminate its fissures'. [6] Samantha Lay's investigation considers
realist film representation in a British context. These
texts link individuals within their environments to
articulate specific forms of social commentary that reflect
what Raymond Williams calls the 'structure of feeling' of
communities and the landscapes they inhabit. [7] As
Williams later suggested, the prerogative of 'realism' is
grounded in location and historical moments, which tends to
reflect the interests of a broad set of social categories,
representing the historically under-represented. [8]
Stylistically, the often 'drab' or 'gritty' texture
emphasises the mundane and problematic images of daily life
-- culture is most certainly an 'ordinary' 'way of life' in
the realist film-scape. These characteristics are obliquely
grounded in the social politics of Griersonian documentarism
where the 'real' rather than the 'constructed' provides a
more accurate reflection of social life. [9] These
features accentuate the observational qualities of realist
film, and the gulf created between 'text and spectator' (22)
-- akin to Jean-Pierre Oudart's 'fourth wall' [10]
-- which provides critical commentary (and the text with a
mode of reflexivity). Early in the introductory chapter, Lay
marks out the discursive boundary between 'realistic texts'
and realist cinema through a differential comparison.
Drawing on Branston and Stafford, [11] Lay argues
that to qualify as a realist film (rather than 'realistic'),
a text must demonstrate at least one or two of the following
features: 'First, the film-maker must have intended
to capture the experience of the actual event depicted.
Second, the film-maker has a specific argument or message to
deliver about the social world and employs realist
conventions to express this message or argument.'
(7) This criterion separates films that
merely create 'a reality effect', from 'realist films' that
reflect their own self-construction; or as Susan Hayward
suggests, texts that 'recognise from the start that realist
discourses not only suppress certain truths, they also
produce others'. [12] Lay adopts these aesthetic and
critical responses to categorise Spielberg's _Jaws_ (1975)
as a movie that could be 'realist', but is actually a
'realistic' film because the 'like real' film conventions
are not used to support a particular political message, they
are in place to heighten the terrifying affect of the killer
shark. Her reading and the way in which it enables
categorisation, demonstrates the inextricable relationship
between these definitive concerns about classification and
the search for an appropriate, reflexive critical lens
through which they are understood. Both the above criteria
for realist film are grounded in the politics of the
reader's critical strategies. The extent to which it is a
filmmaker's intention to capture the experience of an event
and whether they seem to wield a particular discursive axe
in the process, seems to be as equally determined by the
frameworks brought to the text, as it is by what the
director meant to say in the first place. The Barthian
fracture between authorial intention and reader response
asserts the authority of film criticism as both theory and
practice and its importance in the definition of realist
film language. These issues are somewhat overshadowed in
Chapter 2 (which addresses the activities of critics and
audiences) by an analysis that considers how British realist
film is different from Hollywood film in terms of generic
characteristics, approaches to marketing, and the profile of
British audience tastes and sensibilities. The link between
patterns of social realist film consumption and the kinds of
messages they disseminate, is forged by an audience's access
to these films and the context in which they are distributed
and viewed, on both the large and small screen. One could argue that in some ways, this
struggle over meaning and issues of subjective
interpretation is really rather obvious. The same set of
interpretive questions could also be applied to any form of
textual analysis that results in any form of 'reading'. The
reason I raise this question of readership, and feel it is
of such importance, is because the critical prism through
which realist film is understood shapes the debates about
the political intent and the kinds of comments a 'socially
purposive British cinema' (26) makes on a society.
Therefore, where Lay lists some of the defining features of
British social realism as: 'a high degree of verisimilitude,
placing emphasis on ensemble casts in social situations
which suggest a direct link between person and place', films
that do not 'work in a linear or cause-and-effect way'
(20-21), and texts that do not leave a 'more or less stable
resolution' -- I would put this *process* of categorisation
to use in a slightly different way. I would argue that these
aesthetics and formalisms are not (in themselves) criteria
for British social realist texts. Some of these
characteristics can be found in other forms of cinema, such
as (to use an extreme example of contrast) a film like
_Looking For Langston_, that can be described as Black
British avant-gardist neo-documentarism. [13] Lay's
cine-features are important, however, as signifiers; they
articulate the cultural discourses that provide the
interpretive framework which defines British social realist
cinema. The social agendas of social realist film make the
film form what it is, rather than purely the way it looks;
even though one could argue that forms of address that
disrupt the suturing affect and challenge the spectator are
often congruent with 'alternative' cinemas.
[14] This position (a variation on Lay's
approach) opens up a host of possibilities as to how these
texts contribute to wider debates about the nature of
British cinema and how they project a re-imagined nation.
The ways in which these films function in a national
cultural economy reveal the underlying nature of social
realist film and its contribution to the representation of
British national culture. One can illustrate this by
considering the evolution of social realist texts, as Lay
outlined. Griersonian, social realist documentarism of the
1930s reflected a nation where, in the post world-war and
pre-world war era, 'issues of class and deprivation were all
but forgotten . . . everyone, regardless of class and social
status had the same problem and the same enemy' (53). These
themes continued with the 'social problem' and 'kitchen
sink' narratives of social realism in 1950s and 1960s. Such
films highlighted class division, but 'the 'problems'
overwhelm the texts and become so tightly focused upon them
and their resolution that class fades into the background'
(67). However, the intervention of leftist film politics in
the 1970s and 1980s challenged the sexual conservatism,
post-Empire racism, and class obfuscation of previous
decades. This backlash against right-wing 'repressive,
backward-looking . . . and laissez-faire economic' (81)
policies of that period produced an era of filmmaking that
was not merely critical of the Conservatives, but launched
'full-blown cinematic or televisual attacks' (83) against
Thatcher's ideological project. Indeed, Stephen Frears once
claimed that his films sought to 'bring down the government'
(83). The generic and stylistic hybridity of 1980s social
realism (which sought to reflect a society racked by social
and economic division) continued into British cinema of the
1990s. However, the films of this decade focused on
questions concerning the personal rather than the public.
Masculinity was in crisis, working-class identity was
de-politicised and consumer based, and the working-class
movement had become de-centred. This was in part a
consequence of 'the prevalence of a therapeutic discourse in
social realist texts' (104). Lay's exploration of the
various faces of social realist film, and the different
ideological projects it has served, reveals the inherent
fluidity of the form as a reflection of the shifting
socio-economic sands of twentieth-century British
society. From these broad definitions of British
social realist film, I want to develop this line of inquiry
to look at a second conjoined question. What is the
political and cultural role of social realist filmmaking in
the construction and definition of British national cinema?
Lay suggests that the notion of British film has become
increasingly problematic: 'How meaningful is it to use this term
when every constituent part of the term is subject to flux
and change? Has 'British' social realism, for example, ever
been 'British'? Or has it rather been English? What are the
implications for any concept of British social realism
post-devolution?' (120) The social realist modes of address
outlined in the previous section, plus the general shift in
commentary from public to private spaces, indicates the
heterogeneity of filmmaking practices clustered together
under the banner: British cinema. This inherently
problematises the ways in which producers, critics, and
audiences use nationally centred narratives to define the
cultural politics of film. This begs some questions. Are
national discourses still constructive criteria, when
describing such a diverse and inherently problematic corpus
of film production? Is the notion of 'British cinema' a
viable film category? This question is particularly
pertinent when one considers that _British Social Realism:
From Documentary to Brit-Grit_ emerged in the aftermath of a
set of debates about both the aesthetic and political nature
of British filmmaking in the later half of the 20th century,
and also its future in the 21st. The context to this debate
can be traced through the following narratives. Andrew Higson constitutes 'British
National Cinema' through four characteristics. The first is
the economic, which shapes the parameters of national cinema
through production, distribution, exhibition, and ownership.
The second attribute is the consumption and demography of
British film audiences, and the third and fourth relate more
specifically to the projection of British national identity.
National film is designed, he argues, to construct and
symbolizes the national character; British cinema acts as a
conduit for national cultural practices and reflects themes,
motifs, and icons of national life. As a social institution
cinema circulates histories and experiences of nationhood
with a 'profound sense of tradition'. [15] The
discursive premises of British cinema (as reflected largely
in the third and fourth attributes) can be defined by two
propositions. The first is an affirmation of national
identity that draws on traditions and practices local to a
national boundaried space, which syntheses a range of lived
conditions into singular images. Secondly, British film is
delineated by its difference to other national cinema in the
pan-national repertoire. As an embodiment of the cultural
make-up of nation, British film is placed in direct
comparison with others on the world stage. 'Cinema thus does
its part in establishing and maintaining the limits of what
is imagined as a shared national culture -- it helps to
reaffirm the boundaries of the national community'.
[16] Therefore, when we talk of the social politics
or cultural discourses of social realist film in Britain,
and its place and contribution to 'film practice, critical
debate and its importance in British film culture' (37), or
when we discuss the commentary made by British filmmakers on
'the nation', we evoke the authority of a contentious
national institution that is problematic, principally
because it stands as a national institution. As British film entered the 1990s,
writers John Hill and Andrew Higson began an important
dialogue over its future and the sustainability if its
identity. Both questioned the representative value of
nostalgic, heritage orientated caricatures of English
national life -- frozen emblems of Britishness, untouched by
the passage of time, which appear to typify examples of
national cinema. Hill's research critiques the homogeneity
of such images, yet also recognises the currency of these
icons in the sale of British cinema to both domestic and
international markets. However, he also argued that although
'little Englandist' images provide distinct, sustained, and
coherent narratives of nationhood, they only appeal to (and
reflect) particular factions of British society, while
completely ignoring the existence of others. Therefore,
these notions of British cinema mask the diversity of films
produced under its auspices, and so, amidst this discursive
miscellany, more acceptable representations of nation must
be found. As Hill argues: 'It is quite possible to conceive of a
national cinema, in the sense of one which works with or
addresses nationally specific materials, which is none the
less critical of inherited notions of national identity,
which does not assume the existence of a unique, unchanging
'national culture', and which is capable of dealing with
social divisions and differences.' [17] Lay's assessment of social realist film
in the construction of British national cinema reflects the
ways in which this film form provides social commentary and
a critique of 'nation'. She questions the ideology
propagated in the name of Britishness, which centres the
values and experiences of certain sections of society that
do not represent the whole. Alongside John Hill and others,
Lay advocates a critical revaluation of British cinema that
departs from monolithic representations of national
identity. However, Andrew Higson proposes a
distinctly different paradigm that recognises the
fragmentation of English/British cultural life that disavows
nationally defined categories of film production.
Considering the multi-racialism and social diversity
evidenced in much British film, Higson asks: 'Should such
films still be seen as products of a national cinema? It
might in fact be more useful to think of them as embodying a
new postnational cinema that resists the tendency to
nationalise questions of community, culture and identity'.
[18] I would say that much social realist film of
the last two decades has indeed moved British cinema away
from reaffirming narratives of national cohesion. For
example, films like _Secrets and Lies_ and _The Full Monty_
discuss issues of class divisions and urban poverty,
alongside bourgeois aspirationalism. _The People's Account_,
_Handsworth Songs_, _I'm British But . . ._, _Bhaji on the
Beach_, _Babymother_, _The Girl With Brains in Her Feet_,
_East is East_, _Bend It Like Beckham_, and _Anita and Me_
depict a fractured British society coming to terms with the
politics of racial diversity. These films seem to argue
that, through a colonial legacy of hybridity, national
identity must undergo constant revision and reformation.
Some British films reflect racial heterogeneity through
political dissonance and social nonconformity. Two very
important films of the 1980s, _My Beautiful Launderette_ and
_Sammy and Rosie Get Laid_, reflect social diversity through
the documentation of urban decay and impoverishment.
Despite the apparent affluence of the
1980s, these film images characterize the social conditions
of many working-class Britons. Leonard Quart argues that
this institutes a sense of national insider/outsiderness, an
issue Sampat Niti Patel suggests emerges through the
performative construction of identity shaped by social and
cultural context. [19] For Thomas Elsaesser, the
1980s not only 'explicitly asked what it meant to be
British', but also 'questioned what it meant to be a British
filmmaker'. [20] There was neither a cultural
hegemony, nor an inherently organic (or 'naturalized')
manifestation of British national identity to be found in
any of these film narratives. According to Karen Alexander,
they 'mapped out a possibility of Britishness that could
contain and engage with diversities of race, gender,
sexuality and class in a meaningful and often poetic way'.
[21] Many films produced in the 1980s consider
narratives of race, ethnicity, sexuality, and class mobility
to project a much more fluid, hybrid, and plural sense of
Britishness than was seen in British cinema of previous
decades. As hill notes: 'Such films are responding to the
more complex sense of national identity which has been
characteristic of modern Britain'. [22] Hill,
however, does not support Higson's idea of a post-national
film paradigm. He maintains that national cinema does not
have to reflect social unity; it can reflect the divisions
within Britain. There is of course a link between national
cinema and the way national film policy funds national
cinema, but the heterogeneity of nationhood is important to
the ways in which national identity is (re-) imagined in a
cine-scape. Nevertheless, British-produced films
(including those with state funding or grants) that do not
reflect the cohesive myths of nationhood force us to
reconsider what is meant by 'national cinema'. This is
especially the case when, as Higson notes, these British
films 'work with or address nationally specific materials'
within 'an identifiable and specifically British context'.
[23] The phrase 'nationally specific' is ambiguous,
as the heterogeneous composition of 'nation' makes it
difficult to stipulate exactly what qualifies as 'nationally
specific' or 'identifiably British'. In Lay's work, I would
pick out two key contentious issues facing social realist
film that reflect these questions of British cinema. One is
the shift in emphasis from public spaces to the personal,
which 'undermines the 'social' message and the meaning as we
focus on the individual or family and their struggles
without making connections to the wider political, economic
and social factors' (121). The other point is that, 'in a
multicultural society, 'British' can mean many different
things to different groups. But filmmakers are not exploring
this in social realist texts' (121). However, there is an
area of social realist British cinema that addresses exactly
this problem and, I think, it requires further consideration
than was afforded in this book. The intervention of Black British realist
film and documentarism has made a significant (yet many
would argue, universally undervalued) contribution to the
landscape of British cinema. In particular, Black film asks:
What does it mean to be British in a society of social,
cultural, and racial diversity and conflict? Lay briefly
mentions John Akomfrah's seminal documentary _Handsworth
Songs_ in Chapter 5 to argue that a Black presence in
British cinema reflects a sense of racial diversity.
However, she says: 'British social realist texts of the
1980s did little to extend the range of representation in
the direction of Britain's ethnic minorities' (86). I find
this to be a slightly problematic proposition, because in
the wake of the 1981 'race riots' came a renewed interest in
Black cultural production. [24] The Greater London
Council was particularly responsible for this growth, along
with Channel 4's Independent Film and Video. The 1981
Workshop Declaration established the 'Association of
Cinematograph Television and Allied Technicians Union'
(ACTT), which, as Karen Ross notes, 'sought to develop and
sustain an independent film sector which might begin to
evolve on the basis of a more permanent funding structure'.
[25] The Committee of Union members states that 'the
Declaration marks a huge stride forward in creating the
continuity which is vital to build a powerful network of
production groups . . . to make a real impact on our
industry media and society'. [26] Under these
auspices a number of Black workshops were franchised:
Sankofa Film and Video, the Black Audio Film Collective, and
the Ceddo Film/Video Workshop. An important aspect of the
workshop movement was the inclusion of educational issues in
their remits which generated debate about the nature and
direction of Black British film. As Alexander argues, these
filmmakers 'challenged what British film-making is all
about; they were made by young Black Britons who despite
being British were rooted in another culture'. [27]
British cinema of the 1980s saw a diasporic film culture
that challenged traditional notions of identity and
disrupted hegemonic definitions of 'race' and nation. It
emphasised representation as a conduit to new ways of
thinking about 'race' and Britishness. In fact, Black independent film in
Britain first emerged during the 1960s, but this cultural
practice was not recognised by the national film
institutions and cultural policy until the mid-1970s.
[28] For example, _Reggae_, an important short Black
film of that decade, voiced Black experiences of British
society. _Pressure_, the first feature length movie made by
a Black director in Britain, set out to describe racial
experiences with a Black voice that reflected the
difficulties suffered by Black communities amidst turbulent
race relations and economic decline. _Burning an Illusion_
was the second British feature length film made by a Black
director and the first to emerge during the 1980s. It
emphasised internal dialogues and divisions within Black
communities and the contradictions between the British
society's ideals of pluralism and Black experiences of
alienation. Since the 1980s the 'documentary' has
also played a significant role in the cultural repertoire of
Black filmmaking in Britain. It was used to discuss the most
important events or turning points within the history of
Black socio-cultural struggles of the twentieth century.
This tradition -- which draws on Griersonian notions of
collectivism -- is of particular significance, not only
because it has historically provided dominant white culture
with a mode of representing Blacks in Britain, but also for
Black filmmakers seeking to counter these dominant images
with new, 'progressive socio-cultural cinema reproductions
of their own', as Jim Pines puts it. [29] Black
documentarists presented a critical perspective that
foregrounded key anti-colonial and racial struggles across
the world. Powerful examples include: _Handsworth Songs_,
_Time and Judgement_, and _The People's Account_. Many Black
documentarist's critique on society used the experiences of
'Black' communities to discuss how these stories reflect the
need for social change. In this way much Black British
social realist film focuses on communities, and explores
historical icons and aspects of the 'personal', but shapes
those experiences in the context of wider social and
political discourses. This process questioned the nature of
British national identity. Notions of biography in these
films refer to the collective stories of a community, rather
than individual experiences. Autobiography is
multi-generationality and describes the cultural practices
of a 'people' and their shared existence, shaped by the
nature of their resources and situated in a specific
geography. [30] These narratives can also be found
in various strands of contemporary Black and Asian
filmmaking in Britain, such as -_Bend It Like Beckham-_,
East is East_, and _Anita and Me_. These texts represent the
trials of racialised community life (and often those of a
central individual as well) to articulate the concerns and
politics of multiculturalism in Britain. Oppositional filmmaking in Britain is a
hugely important area in the study of British social realist
cinema. The kinds of social commentary it provides reframe
the current shift from public to private in social realist
film. Personal narratives are inscribed in and reflect the
social trends and cultural discourses of a British society
shaped through internal difference. As an intelligent and
coherent over-view of the field, Lay's _British Social
Realism_ is an important starting point from which the new
possibilities for British filmmaking in the 21st century can
be further explored. London
Metropolitan University,
England Notes 1. See Raymond Williams, 'A Lecture on
'Realism'', _Screen_, vol. 18 no. 1, Spring 1977. 2. Kaja Silverman, 'Suture: The Cinematic
Model' (1983), in Paul Du Gay, Jessica Evans, and Peter
Redman, eds, _Identity: A Reader_ (London: The Open
University/Sage Publications, 2000), p. 77 3. See, for example, Jean-Pierre Oudart,
'Cinema and Suture', and Stephen Heath, 'Notes on Suture',
both in _Screen_, vol. 18 no. 4, Winter 1977/78. 4. See Jacque Henriques, 'Realism and the
New Language' (1986), in Judith Williamson, ed., _Black
Film/British Cinema_ (London: ICA Documents,
1988). 5. For further details see: David
Bordwell and Kristen Thompson, _Film Art: An Introduction_,
4th Edn (New York/London: McGraw-Hill, 1993); David
Bordwell, Janet Staiger, and Kristen Thompson, _The
Classical Hollywood Cinema: Film Style and Mode of
Production to 1960_ (London: Routledge, 1985); and Graeme
Turner, _Film as Social Practice_, 3rd edn (London:
Routledge, 1999). 6. Toby Miller, 'Introduction', in Toby
Miller and Robert Stam, eds, _A Companion to Film Theory_
(London: Blackwell, 1999), p. 4. 7. See Raymond Williams, _The Long
Revolution_ (London: Chatto and Windus 1961). 8. See Williams, 'A Lecture on
'Realism''. 9. See Alan Lovell and Jim Hillier,
_Studies in Documentary_ (London: British Film Institute,
1972). 10. The relationship between text and
reader Oudart describes as 'the fourth wall'. This dimension
has a disjunctive affect that reminds the viewer that the
film is a constructed text and that meaning is created
through the spectator's experiences. However, he then
suggests that the spectator projects an absent character in
the text in order to deal with the relationship between
him/herself and the film text. The film itself then fills in
this 'insertion' as a character takes the place of this
missing presence (the absent one). Accordingly, the
construction of the film narrative through shot/reverse shot
devices and various editing techniques become transparent
and seamless. They conceal the existence of the 'forth wall'
as a mediation between text and viewer in the construction
of meaning. See Oudart, ''Suture' (Part 1)', _Cahiers Du
Cinema_, April 1969; and ''Suture' (Part 2)', _Cahiers Du
Cinema_, May 1969. 11. G. Branston and R. Stafford, _The
Media Studies Students Book_ (London: Routledge,
1996). 12. Susan Hayward, _Key Concepts in
Cinema Studies_ (London: Routledge, 2001), pp.
298-9. 13. _Looking For Langston_ is a
simultaneously documentarist (and exhibits aspects of the
biographical) and fictional representation of the
(allegedly) gay poet of the Harlem Renaissance (New York,
1920-1925), Langston Hughes. The opening credits describe
the film as a 'meditation'. The text's form and style
deviate from mainstream narrative conventions which govern
spatial continuity (the film jumps from space to space
without explanation), and narrative linearity (the film
opens with Hughes's death and closes with him alive). The
film also fails to follows narrative causality. As an
example of Black British filmmaking these characteristics
signify a specific set of cultural discourses which define
this mode of address, and thus classify the film in terms of
its political agendas. The point I am making, again, is that
the cultural discourses which underpin these conventions
define the classification of this film form. 14. 'Alternative' cinema describes films
that have different aesthetic and generic conventions to
those of mainstream (Hollywood) film, yet the term does not
stipulate the nature or cultural politics invested in that
mode of address. It is important to note at this point that
the use of the term 'alternative' cinema is different to the
notion of 'oppositional cinema', discussed later in this
review. I use 'oppositional cinema' to refer to filmmaking
practices that reflect cultural and/or social
marginalization and oppression, such as pan-national forms
of diasporic cinema. 15. Andrew Higson, _Waving The Flag:
Constructing A National Cinema in Britain_, 2nd edn (Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1997), p. 7. 16. Ibid., p. 8. 17. Hill, 'The Issue of National Cinema
and British Film Production', in Duncan Petrie, ed., _New
Questions of British Cinema_ (London: British Film
Institute, 1992), p. 16. 18. Higson, 'The Instability of the
National', in Justine Ashby and Andrew Higson, eds, _British
Cinema, Past and Present_ (London and New York: Routledge,
2000), p. 38. 19. See Leonard Quart, 'The Politics of
Irony: The Frears-Kureishi Films', in Wheeler Winston Dixon,
ed., _Re-Viewing British Cinema_ (New York: State University
of New York Press, 1994); and Sampat Niti Patel,
_Postcolonial Masquerades: Culture and Politics in
Literature, Film, Video, and Photography_ (New York: Garland
Publishing, 2001). 20. Thomas Elsaesser, 'Images for Sale:
The 'New' British Cinema', in Lester Friedman, ed., _British
Cinema and Thatcherism: Fires Were Started_ (London:
University College London Press, 1993), p. 54. 21. Karen Alexander, 'Black British
Cinema in the 90s: Going, Going Gone', in Robert Murphy,
ed., _British Cinema of the 90s_ (London: British Film
Institute, 2000), p. 110. 22. John Hill, 'British Cinema as
National Cinema: Production, Audience and Representation',
in Robert Murphy, ed., _The British Cinema Book_ (London:
British Film Institute 1997), p. 211. 23. Higson, 'The Instability of the
National', p. 40. 24. See Coco Fusco, 'Young British and
Black: The Sankofa Film and Video Collective', _Black Film
Review_, 1986-1987; and John Hill, _British Cinema in the
1980s_ (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999). 25. Karen Ross, _Black Images in Popular
Film and Television_ (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1996), p.
35. 26. _ACTT Workshop Declaration_ (London:
ACCTT, 1984), p. 2. 27. Alexander, 'Black British Cinema in
the 90s', p. 110. 28. See Jim Pines, 'The Cultural Context
of Black British Cinema', in Claire Watkins, ed., _Black
Frames: Critical Perspectives on Black Independent Cinema_
(Cambridge, Massachusetts, and London: MIT Press
1988). 29. Ibid., p. 29. 30. For further discussion see: Teshome
H. Gabriel, 'Third Cinema as Guardian of Popular Memory:
Towards a Third Aesthetics', in Jim Pines, ed., _Questions
of Third Cinema_ (London: British Film Institute,
1989). Filmography _Anita and Me_ (2002) Metin
Huseyin UK: Portman Film/Film Council/BBC
Films/EMMI/Take 3 Partnership/Chest Wigs and Flares
Productions _Babymother_ (1998) Henriques,
Julien UK: Channel Four Films/The Arts Council
England/Formation Films _Bend It Like Beckham_ (2002) Chadha,
Gurinder Germany/UK: Kintop Pictures/The Film
Council/Filmfˆrdenberg Hamburg/BSkyB/ British
Screen/The Works/Future Film Financing/Bend It Films/Roc
Media/Road Movies Production _Bhaji on the Beach_ (1991) Chadha,
Gurinder UK: Channel Four Films/Umbi
Films _East is East_ (2000) O'Donnell,
Damien UK: Film Four/Assassin Films _Full Monty, The_ (1997) Cattaneo,
Peter UK/US: TCF/Redwave _Girl With Brains in Her Feet, The_
(1997) Bangura, Robert UK: Alliance/Lexington _Handsworth Songs_ (1987) Akomfrah,
John UK: Black Audio Film
Collective _I'm British But . . ._ (1988) CHADHA,
Gurinder UK: British Film Institute _Jaws_ (1975) Spielberg,
Steven US: Universal Pictures _Looking For Langston_ (1989) Julien,
Isaac UK: Sankofa Film and Video
Collective _My Beautiful Laundrette_ (1985) Frears,
Stephen UK: Working Title/Channel Four
Films _People's Account, The_ (1981) Bryan,
Milton UK: Ceddo Film and Video/British Film
Institute Board _Pressure_ (1975) Ove, Horace UK: British Film Institute _Reggae_ (1970) Ove, Horace UK: Bamboo Records _Sammy and Rosie Get Laid_ (1987) Frears,
Stephen UK: Working Title/Channel Four
Films _Secrets and Lies_ (1996) Leigh,
Mike UK: Film Four/CiBy 2000/Thin Man/Channel
4 _Time and Judgement: A Diary of A 400
Year Exile_ (1988) Shabazz, Menelik UK: Ceddo Film and Video Copyright © Film-Philosophy
2004. Jonathan Wright, 'Rereading the British
Social Realist Film: Samantha Lay's _British Social
Realism_', _Film-Philosophy_, vol. 8 no. 4, January 2004
<http://www.film-philosophy.com/vol8-2004/n4wright>.
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