I Know Where I'm Going! (1945) - Directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger

Wendy Hiller. The amazing Wendy Hiller. One of the greatest actresses of all time-- Wendy Hiller. She only appeared in a handful of films due to her preference for stage work. Even though  she produced a small body of work, what a remarkable collection it is. I’ve seen a handful of films recently that she appeared in. What is so consistent with her, is her ability to project a certain inner confidence and determination. Her work holds up terrifically well today and I think her approach stripped away any tendency to delegate her emotional response to any male characters. It’s always an internal motivation to project “the self”, the independent spirit that carries her purpose. She doesn’t need anyone to feed off of, but rather is so strikingly original that she carries the lifeblood of any film on her shoulders, whether it be Major Barbara (1941), or Pygmalion (1938), or perhaps her greatest work on display in this film, Powell and Pressburger’s I Know Where I’m Going!.

Powell and Pressburger made one of their most unassuming and romantic works, in this film, which not only is a meditation on fate, but also an examination of spontaneity and the spark of chance and how these two- fate and chance- play a role in our lives. We’re introduced to Joan during the opening credits. This opening credit sequence is a brilliant cinematic subversion---covering several years in between carefully placed credit titles.  We’re told how Joan always has known what she wanted and where she wanted to go from a young child through her young adulthood. Joan meets her father for a drink and dinner where she tells him she is about to be married to one of the wealthiest men in the UK, someone whom she hasn’t even met. She is soon to board a sequence of trains and cars and boats which will take her to the Isle of Kiloran in the Scottish Hebrides where she will marry the wealthy Sir Robert Bellinger. She has almost reached her final destination, when a series of bad weather events (fog, wind) prevent her from taking the final ferry boat she must take to get there. So she must remain on the Isle of Mull in the meantime. While there, she and another man, Torquil MacNeil (Roger Livesy) who is also trying to get to the Isle of Kiloran, begin to be drawn to each other. The longer she must wait out the weather, the more she spends time with Torquil, throwing off all of her plans.

Back in November of last year I spent 3 weeks in the UK for work, during which time I had the great opportunity to spend about 5 days traveling around Scotland. My friend and I were driving from Inverness to Glencoe one day, which was one of the most beautiful drives I’ve ever taken. While on the road, there was a sign indicating where we could take a road that would take us to the Hebrides, and immediately I remembered this film. I was suddenly taken with the idea of driving off west toward the Hebrides and finding my own slice of romantic Scotland which I could claim for my own for a few days. Of course I didn’t have time for such an excursion, but I wanted to see this picture again when I returned. It’s so nice to see the location scenery in this film, which is just gorgeous by the sea and mountains. There’s also a Scottish pride on display here, particularly in the sequence where Joan and Torquil watch the Scottish pipers playing tunes while everyone in the hall dances. This is such a terrifically shot sequence of motion, faces, and romantic longing.

So back to Wendy Hiller. From 1937 to 1956, she only appeared in 6 films! Oh how I wish we had more examples of her film acting from this era. She is one of those actresses who commands your attention. She’s not even particularly what one would call traditionally beautiful by Hollywood standards. She's a bit angular and has a face resembling a horse or something to that effect.But there’s something about her that draws you in and it’s her personal spirit. This film, one of the great romances of the era, works so well because we really like the Joan character. We just so desperately want her to be happy because we like her so very much. We root for her and we want her to find happiness, whether it be through fate or chance or whatever, just so long as she finds it. This film is as much a romance between the viewer and Hiller as it is between Joan and Torquil. It’s a terrifically written film, with wonderful subversive sequences (credit titles, dream sequence), great cinematography in Scotland, terrific performances all leading to one of Powell and Pressburger's breeziest entertainments and greatest films.

The Small Back Room (1949) - Directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger



Directing and writing team Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger are arguably the greatest filmmaking duo in history, along with Joel and Ethan Coen. Also known as The Archers, their string of British films in the 40's ranks them as some of the greatest filmmakers of all time, making some of my personal favorites. Usually Pressburger did most of the writing, while Powell did most of the directing. Everyone knows about The Red Shoes (1948) and Black Narcissus (1947), which are justifiably two of the greatest films and greatest Technicolor achievements ever made (I haven't seen them on Blu-Ray yet, which is a crime, but I'm looking forward to doing so someday). In fact my single-most memorable experience of watching a "color" film, one that used color to the greatest effect, is with Black Narcissus. I remember the first time watching that and feeling so much passion and life coming from that film and how it used color to create emotion that it became an overwhelming experience. Their employment of Jack Cardiff, the great cinamatographer was certainly a choice that added to the beauty and passion of the three films he helped make for The Archers. Outside of The Red Shoes and Black Narcissus, they also made several other brilliant films in this stretch: The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), I Know Where I'm Going! (1945), A Matter of Life and Death (1946). They are truly great pillars of cinema even though most of their films are relatively obscure to the general movie-watching public.

One movie that has in fact slipped past me all these years is their 1949 feature, The Small Back Room. Following on the heels of The Red Shoes, it seems like a curious choice. For one reason, it's in black and white. David Farrar plays Sammy Rice, a bomb disposal and munitions expert, holding a job as a scientist for a unique war outfit who works in "the small back room" for the British Army. Several curious bombs or booby traps begin appearing in parts of England, apparently planted by Germans. It becomes Sammy's job to deal with them. Sammy is an interesting character, suffering from a bomb injury that blew off his foot and recovering from alchoholism, a theme that at times dominates the focus of the film. He has a hard time sticking up for himself on the job and tends to get pushed around by his boss, played by Jack Hawkins. Meanwhile, he has a love affair with the office secretary Sue, played by Kathleen Byron.

Sammy and Sue have a surprisingly forward relationship depiction for this time period, not hiding any fact that they are having sex. This is quite a progressive portrayal of an adult, unmarried couple. David Farrar and Kathleen Byron both appeared in Black Narcissus together 2 years prior. Here their chemistry is easily apparent. Playing well off of each other both in dramatic and lighter moments, showing us they have fallen in love, not just talking about it. There is a passionately filmed scene of the two of them inside a doorway, darkly lit except for a single stream of light illuminating their faces, which is one of the best scenes in the film. Both of them show a range for this type of character study. Neither of them look too polished and movie-star like. Kathleen Byron in particular is absolutely mesmerizing. Her screen presence makes you uneasy and comfortable at the same time. She makes you want to watch and commands the screen whenever she's on it.



There is a brilliant sequence toward the end of the film where Sammy has to diffuse a new type of bomb. This turns into a 17-minute scene on a pebbled beach where some great use of editing makes the scene much more action-like than it really is. As you're watching it, you might be thinking that this scene is out of place. it might appear too separate from the rest of the film. However, I would argue that we see Sammy's true calling come out. He was born to diffuse bombs and he's actually really good at it. This is important for Sammy to have this moment, and it's important for the film to have this conclusion. Powell and Pressburger's movies are always smarter than most. Their ideas about cinema and its form are progressive, singular, and hold up really well today. The Small Back Room is an underrated work from them and worthy of being mentioned with their best films.