To begin the new year with something old: Milestone Film and Video has just re-released two films of antiquarian interest, directed (appropriately enough) by British film historian Kevin Brownlow in collaboration with Andrew Mollo.
You may know of Brownlow as the author of a standard work on the art of early cinema, The Parade’s Gone By… If you’ve read his more recent book, Behind the Mask of Innocence, you will also know he’s interested in early social and political films, having recovered a good many of them from the oblivion that descends when people tag a bygone time as “simpler.” Brownlow’s twin passions–for reviving the past and recomplicating our relationship with it–animate the two features he made with Mollo and are reason enough to visit them, at New York’s Film Forum (during their current theatrical run) or wherever they’re shown.
It Happened Here reconstructs forties England with absolute physical accuracy, the better to dramatize what daily life might have been during a Nazi occupation. Conceived by Brownlow in 1956, when he was all of 18, the film required eight years of highly independent production, using nonprofessional actors, borrowed military uniforms and equipment (including Mollo’s extensive private collection), scrounged film stock (some of it donated by Tony Richardson and Stanley Kubrick) and a budget of $21,000. Then came the challenge of distributing the picture. In one of those rare yet perennial breakthroughs that characterize do-it-yourself filmmaking–an enterprise that is always starting to blossom and has always just withered away–Brownlow and Mollo signed a contract with United Artists.
The release was gratifying, unremunerative and incomplete. It Happened Here won considerable attention for its authors during a limited run. On the other hand: In their zeal for authenticity–and also, perhaps, to show how the past remains a living reality–Brownlow and Mollo had included genuine sixties fascists (including English Nazi Colin Jordan) among the film’s imaginary forties blackshirts. The result, I think, was a useful blurring of documentary and fiction, like the filmmakers’ use of rubble-strewn London locations, which were still in ruins twenty years after the Blitz. But various groups complained about the sequence that involved Jordan, not trusting the audience to see through his idiocies. Such pre-emptive protests were a feature of public life in the sixties, as much as now; and the outcome, as now, was not always happy. United Artists cut six minutes from It Happened Here–the most compelling six minutes in the picture–which only now have been restored with the Milestone re-release.