THE CINEMA OF KEN LOACH
Art in the Service of the People

Jacob Leigh



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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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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


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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