My 5 favorite Powell & Pressburger films

In honor of the recent release of Martin Scorcese's documentary Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger, which I saw recently at the cinema, I present my five favorite (so far) films from this legendary filmmaking team, counting down from #5 to my #1.

First, for those not familiar with Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, they were a director/writer team who flourished as independent British filmmakers in the mid-20th century with a wide-ranging filmography and consistent innovation. They hired the best actors and crews working at the time, and thanks to the efforts of Scorcese's Film Foundation, many of their films have been restored to their original brilliance. Many are on DVD and streaming platforms, and some can be seen in your local independent cinema.

Michael Powell (left) and Emeric Pressburger in consultation (image
from Criterion.com)

#5: The Red Shoes (1948): Arguably the best-known of Powell & Pressburger collaborations, it has it all: music, dance, high drama, art vs. life, life imitating art, incredible technicolor, and gorgeous settings. A bonus is the film debut of the luminous dancer Moira Shearer. Watch the original trailer here: 

#4: A Matter of Life and Death (1946): I recently had the opportunity to see this on the big screen, and it was a blast. I had seen it earlier on the small screen, but the black and white scenes in the bureaucratic afterlife were so stunningly rendered, which only really "popped" in the cinema. I also found Roger Livesey to be a complete delight in his secondary but critical role as the doctor who defends our hero. And Marius Goring, who was the serious composer in love with Moira Shearer in The Red Shoes, here is fantastic as a petulant French 18th-century angel who failed to transport David Niven to the hereafter. Spoiler: It has a feel-good ending. 

Residents of the afterlife are summoned to witness a trial.

Watch the trailer for the recent 4K restoration below.

#3: I Know Where I'm Going! (1945): This might be the most overtly romantic film in my list, with a love story unfolding against all odds. It's full of quirky characters, witty humor, and a forbidding Scottish highland coast, but the brilliance of leads Wendy Hiller and Roger Livesey make this so much more than your typical romantic drama. Seeing a restoration of this one last November at the British Film Institute was a highlight of my trip to the UK. A trailer is below.

#2: The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943): Approaching this film, I asked, "Who is Colonel Blimp?" Turns out he was a famous cartoon character in England (created by cartoonist David Low) who represented a satirized "old-school" authoritarian British officer. The protagonist of the film is not named "Colonel Blimp" but was inspired by him. Yet as scripted by Pressburger and played by Roger Livesey, he is an imperfect but eminently likeable character who we accompany through 40+ years of his life and loves over the film's near 3-hour running time. Along the way we meet his one-time nemesis, and later friend, a German officer portrayed by Anton Walbrook, and three pivotal female characters all portrayed by Deborah Kerr. There could be so much said about this film, so I'll leave you with just two words: watch it.

Roger Livesey and Deborah Kerr in The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp

At the end of the movie I may or may not have exclaimed it was the best movie I'd ever seen, a true masterpiece. In that, Scorcese would agree with me. And then came...

#1: A Canterbury Tale (1944): My love for this film came as a complete surprise, as I hadn't even heard of it before I watched it for my "50 Years of Film in 50 Weeks" blog series. I delighted in the quirkiness, the wartime realism blended with overtones of medieval mysticism, yearnings that are partially satisfied but others left to the future...all with the trademark breathtaking shots and humanistic themes that run through most of the Powell & Pressburger oeuvre. Read my blog post here for a deeper dive into the film, its production, and my reflections. I cannot argue with writer Xan Brooks, who confessed in an article in The Guardian, "A Canterbury Tale may be the most loving and tender film about England ever made." 

Sheila Sim and Eric Portman in A Canterbury Tale

Which is your favorite of the Powell and Pressburger films? Please leave a comment.

Postscript: After I watched the Scorcese documentary, I realized that I have yet to see most of Powell & Pressburger's later work. Here are films that intrigue me and that I plan to see soon:

• The Tales of Hoffman (1951): The complete opera by Offenbach on cinema, with Moira Shearer appearing as the famous dancing doll, Olympia. Of course, the actual singing was dubbed in by opera singers.
• Gone to Earth (1950): Scorcese had good things to say about this one, a co-production with David Selznick, especially Jennifer Jones' (Mrs. Selznick's) performance, but the film was not a commercial success.
• Peeping Tom (1960): This horror film was Michael Powell without Pressburger, and it was so controversial and almost universally panned at the time that Powell's career was over. The film has since been reappraised and is seen as Powell's last masterpiece.

On two film adaptations of Pushkin's 'The Queen of Spades'

"Three. Seven. Ace....Three.  Seven. Ace."  

If you want thrills and chills this October with a healthy gothic dose, do not overlook Alexander Pushkin's 1834 story of greed gone berserk, literally.  The Queen of Spades lodged permanently in my subconscious after, as a young child, I saw a revealing snippet of the 1949 British film on TV (not knowing exactly what it was, but hearing the movie's title from my Dad, who was giving it rapt attention).  The shock value was off the charts for an 8-year old, and I've only recently had the guts to approach this story again.  What prompted me was the opportunity to see a live screening of the 1916 Russian silent film version a month ago at the Harvard Film Archive.  After that, I watched the 1949 version in its entirety, read the original story, and watched portions of the famous 1887 operatic version by Tchaikovsky.  This post shares some of my observations about the story on film.

The basic outline of the plot is as follows:  In Imperial Russia in the early 19th century, Hermann, an officer in the Russian engineers, is of a lower class than his military compatriots who spend their off hours gambling at cards, in particular, faro.  Hermann avoids the card games because he doesn't want to risk what little he has, but he's fascinated nonetheless.  He hears one officer tell a story of the 'Countess', an old lady now who in her youth won a fortune by learning a 'secret' of cards from a mysterious acquaintance -- a secret no one speaks of and seems to have dissolved into a questionable legend.  Hermann becomes obsessed with learning the secret, to the extent that he insinuates himself into the acquaintance of the old Countess's demure but beautiful ward Lizaveta.  Eventually he confronts the Countess in a fateful encounter, and in the course of subsequent critical and supernatural happenings believes he's got the secret, and acts on it.  The results are not happy.


1916 Film The Queen of Spades (Pikovaya dama) D. Yakov Protazanov.
As the date indicates, this film was made immediately prior to the Bolshevik revolution, and I couldn't help imagining a reflection of class consciousness and critique of the elite played up in the drama of the film.  At 63 minutes, the film was an efficient and true telling of the Pushkin story.

From Harvard Film Archive:  Ivan Mozzhukhin standing at right as Hermann

For a relatively early silent, the supernatural effects were, if not refined, at least intriguing, and the storytelling making use of flashbacks to add interest.  The camera was mostly static, not showing the 'montage' style famous in later Russian/Soviet silent cinema. The character of Hermann as portrayed by Ivan Mozzhukhin, while not admirable, is more as a victim of his addictive personality, as opposed to a cunning villain.  For his part, Mozzhukhin was a very popular Russian actor, who barely escaped with his life during the revolution, and worked mainly in Western Europe thereafter, and had a short unsuccessful stint in Hollywood.

Hermann caught in an imaginary spider web

The entire film can be seen on Youtube:

The 1949 film The Queen of Spades D. Thorold Dickinson
The film that spooked me so many years ago is one Martin Scorsese has called 'a masterpiece, one of the very best films of the 1940s.'  Made at England's Welwyn Studios, it's gripping and haunting, with gothic beauty and tragedy dripping from every frame.  Similar to the 1916 film, it was quite faithful to the original story.  I was simultaneously attracted to and repulsed by Anton Walbrook's Hermann.  In contrast to that of Mozzhokhin, his portrayal was of a truly subversively haughty and vile person, who cannot resist the lure of wealth, and does not value human relationships.  While I felt he overplayed at times, he was mesmerizing and the camera idolized him.  Yvonne Mitchell portrays Lizaveta as a beautiful, if weak, young woman who lets others rule her life.  Dame Edith Evans is convincing as a bitter old woman who has found that wealth does not make up for the lack of love and true companionship.  Just over 60 when the film was made, Evans was made up to look much older.

Anton Walbrook cuts a dashing figure as
Hermann, if cold and not particularly sympathetic.

Dame Edith Evans as Countess Ranevskaya

The scene that I remembered from my childhood, set at the Countess's funeral, did not disappoint this time around, for its ability to shock and chill.  The story is unique in that it offers no strong protagonists worthy of our admiration, if you discount the secondary character of Andrei, the young officer in love with Lizaveta played by Ronald Howard, son of legendary Leslie Howard of Gone With The Wind fame.  As entertainment, the film offers a bit of everything; supernatural and elements of horror are neatly included in the dramatic narrative and will satisfy fans of the genre.  As social commentary there is much to digest as well, which likely is at least partly why Pushkin's original story has such staying power.  This is a society that today one is glad to have avoided.  New York Times film critic Bosley Crowther said it well in his inimitable style at the time the film had its U.S. run:  "Wild gypsy dancing, shadow lighting, and an excellent musical score are well used for mood creation in this weirdly fascinating film."  

Yvonne Mitchell as Lizaveta

Anton Walbrook as Hermann woos Yvonne Mitchell as Lizaveta.

As a postscript, the Tchaikovsky opera presents the original story with several deviations in the narrative to appeal to operatic audiences, who demanded more romance, and more death (!).  It does not lack for dramatics, and the music is romantic; it's still popular today.