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The Cinema of Ken
Loach: Art in the Service of the People examines the linking
of art and politics that distinguishes the work of this leading
British film director. His films manifest recurrent themes over
a long period of working with various collaborators, yet his handling
of those themes changes throughout his career. This book examines
those changes as a way of reaching an understanding of his style
and meaning. It evaluates how Loach incorporates his political beliefs
and those of his writers into his work. The book augments the thematic
interpretation with contextual information gleaned from original
archive research and new interviews.
Jacob Leigh is Lecturer in Film Studies at Royal Holloway, University
of London.
2002
192 pages
978-1-903364-31-4 £16.99 (pbk)
978-1-903364-32-1 £45.00 (hbk)
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contents
chapter sample
Introduction
reviews
'A finely detailed, sympathetically critical examination of some
major films and TV dramas. In addition to being a pleasure to read,
the book contributes intelligently to debates about realism, and
deserves to become a standard reference for anyone interested in
Loach's work and the wider issues it raises.'
Martin Stollery, Southampton Institute
'Well-researched, informative and perceptive in detail, this book
juggles a fair number of theoretical concepts yet the writing remains
accessible throughout. It fills a gap in the serious treatment of
Loach and should find an appreciative audience among teachers and
students of British cinema.'
Sight and Sound
‘This book is a solid piece of work, well-researched, informative
and often perceptive in detail. While juggling a fair number of
theoretical concepts, the author keeps them mainly implicit, so
that the writing remains accessible throughout. Since there are
scandalously few serious accounts of Loach’s work, the book
fills a gap in the Film Studies market and should find an appreciate
audience among teachers and students of British cinema.’
Peter Matthews
‘The Cinema of Ken Loach is part of Wallflower Press’s
commendable Directors' Cuts series, and provides a perceptive
and accessible introduction to and overview of the work of one of
the world’s most distinguished and respected filmmakers. Jacob’s
Leigh’s is an illuminating account of the development of Loach’s
career from his early days directing for the BBC’s celebrated
Wednesday Plus series. The book explores the thematic consistencies
that inform all of his work from Up the Junction (1965)
through to The Navigators (2001) (the delay in the release
of Loach’s latest film unfortunately preludes its coverage
by this book). Leigh focuses on Loach’s linking of art and
leftwing politics, and explores the many challenges that this frame
of reference presents to Loach. Moving chronologically through Loach’s
career, each chapter examines closely one or two of his films. The
recurring themes of realism, politics and melodrama are discussed
along with Loach’s experiments in mise-en-scène
and narrative fragmentation. The book is particularly enlightening
when discussing Loach’s long-term professional relationships
with his collaborators – writers like Nell Dunn and Barry
Hines, producers Tony Garnett and Sally Hibben, and cinematographers
Barry Ackroyd and Chris Menges. Leigh comments fairly that to account
for Loach’s work is to account for these collaborators, whose
input into the films Loach himself has always acknowledges and praised.’
Film Ireland
‘This is an engaging critical study of Britain’s most
uncompromising film director and the manner in which he has incorporated
his political beliefs into his art and made the two indivisible.
The author moves chronologically through Loach’s early television
work to his major cinema triumphs like 1995’s Land and
Freedom.’
Uncut
‘Leigh provides a range of interpretive approaches to Loach’s
work … providing clear and revealing analyses of Up the
Junction, Cathy Come Home and Poor Cow, followed
by an exemplary analysis of Kes … where he uses textual
analysis to reveal how Loach, with the crucial assistance of cinematographer
Chris Menges, arrives at what was to become his trademark naturalistic
style, eschewing the “Brechtian” techniques of his earlier
work, while still delivering a “melodrama of protest”.
Like all of the best film analysis this detailed examination of
Kes really makes one want to see the film again …
The Cinema of Ken Loach is always a stimulating and, at
times, highly illuminating read.’
Lez Cooke, Journal of British Cinema
and Television
‘The finest British director of his generation? Certainly
the most uncompromising. Ken Loach is a filmmaker who has incorporated
his political beliefs into his art and made the two indivisible.
As such, he is the perfect subject for students on courses in Cultural,
Media and Film Studies, presumably a key target for Jacobs Leigh’s
book. Indeed The Cinema of Ken Loach tellingly stared life
as the author’s own thesis. Nevertheless, in between the "theoretical
models" and "genre paradigms" there is much to engage
the non-academic reader. Using research material and new interviews,
Leigh moves chronologically through Loach’s career from the
early BBC dramas such as Cathy Come Home and Up the
Junction through to 1995’s magnificent Spanish civil
war portrait Land and Freedom. He draws out the main thematic
and stylistic consistencies in Loach’s work to create what
he describes as "a personal aesthetic history" which recognises
that the success of his work as a director hinges on the balance
between individual drama and social analysis. The book's exploration
of the interaction between them is instructive and Leigh is also
perceptive on the reasons why as a director, Loach prefers not to
use professional actors. There are no heroes and villains in a Ken
Loach film. Just real people doing real things in which the camera’s
role is as a sympathetic observer. Since I appeared as a real-life
political activist in Questions of Leadership, Loach’s
banned 1981 documentary about trade unions, there is no director
whose work I have followed more closely or admired more strongly.
To suggest, then, that Leigh’s book has enriched my appreciation
is praise indeed.’
Nigel Williamson, Uncut
‘As one of the most important filmmakers in Europe, Ken Loach's
work continues to illuminate the political and social problems that
mark contemporary Britain. Both polemical and intensely political,
Loach remains true to a left-wing aesthetic that began when he directed
episodes of Z Cars in the 1960s. Jacob Leigh's study of
Loach's impressive filmography offers an attempt to delineate aspects
of the director's work, notably Loach's stylistic direction as well
as certain thematic traits that characterize his films. In Up
the Junction (1965) and Cathy Come Home (1966), two
early plays that established Loach as an emerging director of some
merit, Leigh suggests that Loach experimented with loosely Brechtian
notions of individual drama and social analysis. These issues are
arguably the mainstays of his work, and Leigh uses the development
of these concepts as a means of guiding his readers through some
35 years of filmmaking.
In Cathy Come Home, which Leigh defines as "fictional
journalism", the author identifies Loach's desire to render
problems of homelessness not as particular to the film's characters
but as a systemic problem. In that sense, the film becomes a "melodrama
of protest", one in which the story of decline assumes precedence
as the characters become "ciphers in a diagrammatic story".
In any form of art this is a persistent issue and Loach's search
to find an appropriate way of expressing political attitudes without
recourse to the kind of transparent polemic that marked parts of
Cathy Come Home is at the core of his development as a
filmmaker. Leigh is alert to this issue and in Kes (1969),
he suggests that Loach began to address the problem. Loach made
two important breakthroughs in Kes, both of which had a
considerable impact on the rest of his career. First, the camerawork
of Chris Menges shifted the emphasis from what Loach suggested had
"until then been seen as like fictional journalism" towards
a sense of sympathetic observation. At issue here was what Loach
calls Menges' ability to "to observe it more", to "let
the action happen . . . and not be so busy all the time with the
camera." Second, Loach's ability to organise a sense of sympathy
for the character even when, like David Bradley in Kes, that character
is not exclusively the victim of circumstance. As Leigh points out,
this is especially important given that David Bradley is morally
ambiguous: just as he is bullied so too does he bully, and just
as things are wrongly taken from him so too does he steal. In effect,
what this means is that the audience is required to consider the
implications of transparent "identification" with a character.
Hence one-dimensional protest is filtered through a number of issues
that complicate, unnerve and unsettle an audience.
What all this amounts to of course is that as his career progressed
Loach was moving to a more sophisticated means of representing social
realism and political protest. Leigh's analysis of Loach's attempts
to achieve this is generally astute … he is at his best when
analysing the aesthetic initiatives and techniques Loach employs.
Hence his discussion of camerawork and lighting in much of the director's
work is both welcome and enlightening … It is worth pointing
out that the book makes no particular pretense towards political
analysis. Instead Leigh's intention is to chart the aesthetic development
of Loach's work. And in that sense there is much of value in this
book.’
Ian Peddie, Scope: Online Journal of
Film Studies
'Involved in the filmmaking business for almost forty years, Ken
Loach has become one of the most prominent British filmmakers.
Stamped with political commitment and artistic integrity, his films
have taken many forms and have dealt with a wide range of issues:
indeed, Loach has produced a body of high quality and ambitious
work that has gained praise and recognition from film professionals,
critics, and the public. Thus, that a scholar such as Jacob Leigh
dedicates an entire book to the richness and pertinence of Loach's
works is more than welcome.
In the Introduction to The Cinema of Ken Loach: Art in the
Service of the People, Leigh immediately states his aims:
'to describe the thematic and stylistic consistencies in the work
of Ken Loach
and to provide an account of the development of his career'. Indeed,
the whole book is dedicated to the evolution of Loach's career,
both in formal and topical terms, and places much emphasis on the
director's various collaborations with, for example, writer Jim
Allen and director of photography Chris Menges.
In the first chapter, 'Clear Notes in the Concert', Leigh chooses
to discuss the key themes of his book (realism, politics, and melodrama)
through the analysis of two scenes from Carla's Song (1996).
The chapter almost bluntly starts with an illustration of the problem
that has confronted Loach throughout his career: plausibility,
or more precisely, how 'to inform and to entertain audiences'.
Leigh's whole book is enriched by interesting in-depth analyses
of well-chosen scenes, and Chapter 1 is no exception. Here the
author focuses on acting style in two scenes. In the first scene,
the reader is told that mannered, hesitating acting leads to spectatorial
alienation. In another scene, not unlike in documentaries, the
camera captures 'authentic' emotions and behaviour. Leigh's reflection
is thus informed by critical appraisals of Loach's films in terms
of realism. Similarly, he ponders over the possibility of incorporating
politics into films without being too overt.
In Chapter 2 ('What to Do with a Camera'), the author analyses
the aesthetic strategies in Loach's early works and lays emphasis
on the evolution of the director's style and his collaborations.
The three films discussed in this chapter concentrate on the struggle
of working-class women. They also all share a desire to stay away
from naturalism by applying some Brechtian techniques. The main
films discussed in this chapter are Up the Junction (1965),
Cathy Come Home (1966) and Poor Cow (1967). Typically,
the chapter is divided in three sections, each dedicated to the
analysis of a film.
Up the Junction was adapted from Nell Dunn's novel of
the same name. Here, it is mostly the Brechtian use of songs and
music that
is analysed: Leigh underlines the spectatorial emotional disruption
that is provoked by sound/song juxtapositions or interruptions.
The author also pays attention to other Brechtian and Godardian
influences, such as the combination of individual drama, social
analysis, fractured narratives, and some non-naturalist acting
techniques (such as addressing the camera).
Cathy Come Home was filmed on location and used the interview
format. Indeed, formally speaking, Loach's film suggests a documentary
report. Leigh discusses Loach's use of documentary traditions such
as montage sequences of observational shots. Much attention is
paid to voice-overs, which are used in a journalistic manner: for
example, a voice-over gives a personal account of the film story
(homelessness) whereas another 'clinically' delivers statistics
and directly asks the government to act. The film links an individual
drama to a problem facing many people. Here, the principles of
association and juxtaposition prevail over integration.
Another adaptation from a Dunn novel, Poor Cow was Loach's
first film destined for cinema release. This work shows the effect
of environment on the socialisation of a child. As in the previous
two films, the causality between scenes is not obvious. Meaning
is constructed through associations. When songs are used, they
seem to have a political significance, or express something very
specific about their era. Once again, voice-overs offer and juxtapose
different perspectives.
In the first paragraph of Chapter 3 ('Sympathetic observation'),
the author announces that he will discuss the evolution of Loach's
works of the late 1960s, but focuses almost uniquely on Kes (1969). That said, the chapter provides the reader with a lengthy
and excellent discussion of the film. Kes shows Loach's
willingness to depart from Brechtian influence and allowed the
director to
develop his own photographic style (largely thanks to his collaboration
with director of photography Chris Menges). The film also helped
him to refine his technique of character development and point
of view. In Kes, Leigh explains, a political critique
is made possible through metaphors and by showing a private side
of its
main character: political comments are implied, not overt. There
are fewer disruptions in Kes than in previous films: indeed,
Loach establishes a connection between his film and the classical
narrative film by using mainly one point of view (this also allows
the director to assert the realism of the film). Loach also started
to experiment with the 'documenting the actor' type of filming
(actors are filmed even when they have stopped performing).
The fruitful collaboration of Loach with writer Jim Allen constitutes
the core of Chapter 4, 'The Experience of History'. Loach collaborated
six times with writer Jim Allen, and three of their contributions
for television are also discussed by Leigh: The Big Flame (1969),
The Rank and File (1971) and Days of Hope (1975).
The 1970s work marks Loach's diminishing interest in disruptive
techniques,
such as unspecified voice-overs, and the beginning of his exploration
of different ways of dramatizing collective experience. It is indeed
through the latter explorations that Loach expresses his political
philosophy (which was very influenced by Allen's interest in anti-Stalinist
socialism). The Big Flame is the first example of such
politically committed films in Loach's career. The Rank and
File constitute
Loach and Allen's first attempt at dramatising a historical event
(a strike in Lancashire in the late 1960s). The four episode series
Days of Hope deals with a lockout in Durham in the early
1920s: however, the series aims to deal with political issues retaining
great social pertinence in the specific context of the mid-1970s,
and establish a continuity between past events and the present.
Chapter 5 ('Significance and Objectivity') continues the discussion
of realism started in Chapter 1: in effect, it deals with the connection
between Loach's feature films and documentaries, that is the relationship
between fiction and non-fiction. The director's interest in documentary
can be explained by his willingness to document the life of everyday
people. However, the chapter deals primarily with Loach's feature
film The Gamekeeper (1980), a collaboration with writer
Barry Hines and Menges. This work is Loach's only 1980s fiction
film
that acknowledged the importance of individual drama. The rest
of the decade is described as 'artistic dormancy'. In his discussion
of The Gamekeeper, Leigh also stresses the importance
of the long shot, and restrained lighting and camera movement.
These techniques
are also to be found in another feature film, Looks and Smiles (1982).
Between 1981 and 1986 Loach almost exclusively made documentaries
that are all explicit about politics, and it is with
these non-fiction works that the author concludes Chapter 5: Loach's
documentaries of the 1980s show everyday people presenting themselves
with their own voices through the use of interviews, discussions,
and explanatory voice-overs.
In the first paragraph of the final chapter ('Cutting to the Core
of what's Happening') Leigh explains that, in the early 1990s,
Loach finally succeeded in establishing a secure relationship with
a producer (Parallax). This collaboration led to the production
of Riff-Raff (1991), Raining Stones (1993), and
Ladybird, Ladybird (1994) … In this chapter, much attention is
paid to Raining Stones, Ladybird, Ladybird and
Land and Freedom (1995).
Raining Stones is another collaboration with Allen and
recalls the episodic linearity that is representative of Italian
neo-realism.
The film alternates between comedy and melodrama: the changes of
mood are enhanced by the music of Stewart Copeland, who had collaborated
twice with Loach before … Raining Stones differs
from other collaborations with Allen in that digressions are integrated
in the film narrative; moreover, the film develops its political
theme by contrasting a minor character's view with the hero's.
Whereas the photography and locations of Labybird, Ladybird are
similar to the ones used in Raining Stones, the storyline
relies mainly on melodrama and its tendency to excess and narrative
disproportion.
Here, the storyline develops out of a character's experience. Allen
and Loach take this method further in Land and Freedom,
making a narrative emerge from different versions of history (the
Spanish
Civil War). Aiming at a large audience, their target was to 'balance
a sense of events, institutions and policies with a story about
individuals whose emotions and experiences are engaging'. Leigh
stresses the way that the Civil War acts as an eye-opener for the
main character, helping him to enlarge his own perceptions of the
conflict and the people taking part in it.
The book is extremely well-researched and contains rare and useful
contributions by Loach himself. It also provides the reader with
in-depth and illuminating film analyses, and successfully underlines
the productive relationship between Loach and his various collaborators.
In other words, The Cinema of Ken Loach: Art in the Service
of the People is a must for those interested in Loach's career
and European politically-committed cinema.’
Florian Grandena, www.film-philosophy.com
books of related interest
The Cinema
of Britain and Ireland
Contemporary
British and Irish Film Directors
The Cinema of Mike Leigh:
A Sense of the Real
British
Social Realism: From Documentary to Brit Grit
Fires Were started: British Cinema and Thatcherism
The Cinema of Emir Kusturica:
Notes from the Underground
The Cinema of Wim Wenders: The Celluloid
Highway
The Cinema of Kathryn Bigelow: Hollywood
Transgressor
The Cinema of Robert Lepage: The Poetics
of Memory
The Cinema of George
A. Romero: Knight of the Living Dead
The Cinema of Terrence
Malick: Poetic Visions of America
The Cinema of Andrzej
Wajda: The Art of Irony and Defiance
The Cinema of David Lynch:
American Dreams, Nightmare Visions
The Cinema of Krzysztof
Kieslowski: Variations on Destiny and Chance
The Cinema of Nanni
Moretti: Dreams and Diaries
The Cinema of John
Carpenter: The Technique of Terror
The Cinema of Roman
Polanski: Dark Spaces of the World
The Cinema of Todd Haynes:
All That Heaven Allows
The Cinema of Steven
Spielberg: Empire of Light
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