Revisiting The Red Shoes

Moira Shearer as Vicky Page.

Black Narcissus is my favorite Michael Powell-Emeric Pressberger film--and I also think it's their masterpiece. But most critics and fans confer that "masterpiece" title on the duo's The Red Shoes (1948). I watched it many years ago, but, honestly, it didn't leave a significant impression. However, after recently viewing Made in England, an excellent documentary about Powell and Pressberger--and listening to Martin Scorsese gush about The Red Shoes' influence--I decided to give it another try.

For those who have not seen it, the plot revolves around three characters: ballet company impresario Boris Lermontov (Anton Walbrook), ballerina Vicky Page (Moira Shearer), and composer Julian Craster (Marius Goring). Each is dedicated to the musical arts, but to varying degrees. 

Anton Walbrook as Lermontov.

Lermontov lives for his ballet company--its employees are his family. When his star ballerina joyously announces her engagement to the company, Lermontov disappears into the wings of the theater. He is already deciding who will replace her. His preference for the ballet company over the people that comprise it earns him disdain at times. One colleague refers to him as a "gifted, cruel monster."

Julian is dedicated to his music. He wakes up in the middle of the night thinking about it and rushes to the piano to transcribe it. However, Julian can balance his profession and his personal life, especially after he falls in love with Vicky.

Vicky is torn between her need to dance and her love for Julian. Like Lermontov, she is obsessed with ballet and cannot live without it. Yet, she loves Julian passionately and cannot envision a life without him. When circumstances prevent her from dancing for Lermontov's company and being with Julian, Vicky confronts an existence that's burning from both ends.

While the characters portray the conflict between art and "real life," director Michael Powell visualizes it for the audience. The centerpiece of The Red Shoes is an audacious original ballet that literally pulls the viewer from the audience into an imaginary world. Powell opens the scene showing the curtains drawing back to reveal a solitary dancer, a shoe cobbler holding red ballet slippers, on the stage. Then, he cuts to a shot of the village that crops out the framing of the stage. The viewer is now on the stage with the performers and immersed into their world. 

Vicky dancing with a newspaper man.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the ballet is presented as an almost surrealistic film, recounting Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale of The Red Shoes. It's a colorful, energetic, sometimes visually frightening display of artistry, with Moira Shearer gliding past sheets of gel, floating through the air, and dancing with a man made of newspapers. The ballet ends with the protagonist's death and the shoe cobbler with the red slippers on the stage alone as the curtains draw to a close.

The controlling ballet shoes.

Powell and Pressberger merge their "real" and fantasy worlds in the climax to The Red Shoes. When Vicky appears to choose her career over love, Julian storms out of her dressing room. As Vicky walks toward the stage, her red ballet shoes seemingly take on a life of their own--forcing her to run out of the theater and toward a moving train. (It's no surprise that a train features prominently in this sequence, since Powell foreshadows its importance by integrating it into numerous scenes earlier in the film.)

Anton Walbrook is the standout among the cast. In his third Powell-Pressberger film, Walbrook gets a chance to portray a complex character that straddles the line between supportive and manipulative. Lermontov is an unforgiving taskmaster, but he recognizes artistic brilliance and supports it. When Vicky wants to leave the ballet company to be with Julian, Lermontov releases her from her contract. But when given a chance to see her again, he pressures her to come back into the fold. He wants to be gracious, but ultimately he must do what he feels is right for the ballet company.

Do I now rank The Red Shoes over Black Narcissus? No, the latter is still my favorite Powell & Pressberger film. But I am glad I watched The Red Shoes again. I have grown to admire its dazzling  colorful imagery, Powell's bold directing, and the film's exploration of the thin line between real world and the fantasy world created through visual and aural artistry.

Powell and Pressberger's One of Our Aircraft Is Missing

I suspect that The Red Shoes, A Matter of Life and Death, and Black Narcissus are the films that spring to mind when most movie buffs think of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressberger. However, the filmmaking duo explored the theme of war more than any other. It's present--either directly or indirectly--in 49th Parallel, The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, Contraband, and A Canterbury Tale. However, their most prominent war film was One of Our Aircraft is Missing.

It was produced in 1942 under the auspices of Great Britain's Ministry of Information, with the goal of boosting the country's morale during World War II. It also marked the fourth collaboration for Powell and Pressberger and, notably, their first one in which their producing, directing, and writing credits were billed collectively as The Archers.

One of Our Aircraft Is Missing begins with an empty airplane plunging into power lines and then backtracks to 15 hours before the crash. In almost documentary-like fashion, we're introduced to the plane's crew as it prepares for its next--apparently routine--mission. Personally, I struggled with differentiating the characters during these early scenes since I was unfamiliar with many of the British actors. As a result, the first 26 minutes were a bit of a slog.

However, the film takes off once the crew parachutes from its damaged plane into occupied Dutch territory. To their surprise, the British fliers are discovered by children that lead them to a resistance group willing to smuggle the entire crew out of Nazi-occupied Netherlands. The escape comprises the rest of the 139-minute running time, with suspenseful sequences alternating with pithy conversations among the Brits, the Dutch Resistance, and the Nazis.

Googie Withers as a spy.

Powell and Pressberger specialized in creating strong parts for their leading ladies, as evidenced by Black Narcissus, I Know Where I'm Going, The Red Shoes, and others. You can add One of Our Aircraft Is Missing to that list. Pamela Brown shines as a member of the Dutch Resistance, especially in her first scene where she subtly interrogates the Brits to ensure they are not Germans in disguise. Later in the film, the crew is aided by an entrepreneur (Googie Withers) who plays a dangerous game: She conducts routine business with the Nazis while she hides the British fliers in her quarters and plans the final phase of their escape. These tough, dedicated women are the true heroes of One of Our Aircraft Is Missing.

Geoffrey Tearle is probably the best-remembered of the male leads, having portrayed a villain in Hitchcock's The 39 Steps (1935). He later appeared in Mandy (1952), a critically-acclaimed film about a young deaf girl, and the Ealing comedy The Titfield Thunderbolt (1953). Of course, the most famous actor in One of Our Aircraft Is Missing has only a small supporting part. That would be Peter Ustinov, who looks so young as to almost be unrecognizable as a priest.

Powell uses lighting to simulate shells
exploding in mid-air outside the plane.

The crisp black-and-white photography suits the film--which is saying a lot since Michael Powell later revolutionized the use of color in Black Narcissus. The film opens with a pre-title sequence, which was unusual for the 1940s. It also contains no music, emphasizing natural sound to great effect.

One of Our Aircraft Is Missing earned Academy Award nominations for special effects and the screenplay by Powell and Pressberger. Amazingly, it was Michael Powell's only Oscar nomination. Emeric Pressberger won an Oscar for his 49th Parallel screenplay and received another writing nomination for The Red Shoes in 1948.

The man who edited One of Our Aircraft Is Missing didn't receive any recognition for his work. Still, he had a pretty good career in the cinema. His name was David Lean.

Michael Powell and Me

In 1985, my wife and I organized a celebrity auction as a fundraising event for a non-profit film society we founded in Kentucky. Most celebrities don't contribute items for such auctions, which is understandable since they probably get thousands of requests each year. When you do receive an item, such as a Dennis the Menace sketch by Hank Ketcham, the response is typically from the celebrity's agent or assistant. However, once in a while, a famous person takes the time to write a personal note. I've always loved the letter and annotated photo below from Michael Powell, which accompanied an autographed paperback of The Red Shoes.

Michael Powell was not only a great filmmaker, but--like Truffaut and Scorsese--he promoted the history and the craft of making films. When I hear people comment that "they don't make movies like they used to," I think of a Powell quote: "Seventy years ago, there were men like D.W. Griffith. And seventy years later, now, there are not many men like Martin Scorsese. But so long as there is one, there will be others, and the art of the cinema will survive."

As for Powell's love affair with the cinema, it began at an early age and ended only with his death in 1990. In the first of his two autobiographies, A Life in Movies (a must for any film buff), Powell describes when he was offered his first job in the industry, as an assistant to director Harry Lachman: "I didn't know what to say. I only knew that I stood on the threshold of a new and wonderful life, half in and half out, and that I must, must, cross that threshold."

Fortunately for us, Powll crossed that threshold and enjoyed an amazing career, making films alone and with his frequent collaborator Emeric Pressberger (they formed a production company called The Archers). Over the next four days, the Classic Film & TV Cafe is delighted to host A Tribute to The Archers: A Powell & Pressberger Movie Blogathon. Ten films will be reviewed by 14 classic movie bloggers. We encourage you to check them out and share your affection for some of the greatest films ever made.

Oh, and about that copy of The Red Shoes that Michael Powell sent for the celebrity auction. Even though we had items from Ray Bradbury, Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward, the President, and even a dress worn by Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune, none matched the bidding war for that Red Shoes book. And, sadly, I didn't get it!

I Know Where I’m Going! (1945)

The Archers, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, collaborated on eighteen films over a thirty year period (1939-72).  While their first true “Archer” production (where they share writing, directing and producing credit) didn’t come until 1943 with The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, they had previously worked on four films together.  Usually, it was Powell who did the bulk of the directing and Pressburger who came up with the story ideas and handled most of the production chores (especially when it came to editing and music incorporation). Some of their endeavors are quite memorable, like Black Narcissus (1947) and The Red Shoes (1948), while others are easily forgotten, such as The Battle of the River Plate (1956) and Ill Met By Moonlight (1957).  Somewhere in-between their masterpieces and their flops is located I Know Where I’m Going! (1945), which stars Wendy Hiller as a young woman who’d rather marry for money than love.

Manchesterian Joan Webster (Hiller) is supposed to marry wealthy industrialist Sir Robert Bellinger (Norman Shelley’s voice—he’s never seen) on the Isle of Kiloran, but the weather (or fate) in the Scottish Hebrides has other plans.  For some reason I’ve never really liked Hiller. I don’t know exactly why, but I think it’s her voice—it just rubs me the wrong way. Still, she was a decent actress who was nominated for three Oscars (she won one for Separate Tables [1958]) and she worked in the industry for nearly sixty years.  In I Know Where I’m Going! she does a nice job of portraying her character’s steely determination to not be sabotaged by love (and an island full of eccentric Scots).  However, I like her much more in the beginning of the film when she is calling her bank managing father “Darling” (George Carney) than I do when she is risking poor Kenny’s (Murdo Morrison) life to get across to Kiloran.

Roger Livesey (an Archer veteran) gives his usual steady performance as Torquil MacNeil (what a name!). A kilt-wearing naval officer, Torquil is the broke Laird of Kiloran (FYI a laird is one step below a baron) and the owner of the Isle of Kiloran.  He sees in Joan a woman he would like to tame, but unlike Petruchio, he attempts to do it with kindness and patience. Too bad his childhood friend Catriona (Pamela Brown) is married, because she is much prettier and, more importantly, way more interesting than Joan.  It just grates on my nerves when the supporting actress is more enjoyable than the lead actress (see Kristen Scott Thomas and Andie MacDowell in Four Weddings and a Funeral [1994]).  In addition to Livesey and Brown’s nice acting turns, Captain C.W.R. Knight is a hoot as Colonel Barnstaple, a falconer with a delightful sense of style.

What I think sets this movie apart from a number of others during this period is it’s cinematography. This was most probably cinematographer Erwin Hillier’s best work over his thirty year career.  It is said the he didn’t use a light meter at all, which must have made his task more difficult than usual, especially when you consider the weather conditions.  There are many long distance shots that capture the overall majesty of the Scottish shoreline.  As someone who has spent time in the Scottish towns of Carnoustie and Killin it was a reminder of just how beautiful the land of Scots can be.  Hillier also used a hand-held camera to capture some of the close-up shots—most notably the ones of the boat struggling against the Corryvreckan whirlpool.  Interestingly enough, what most people don’t know is that Livesey never once set foot in Scotland for any of the location shots because he was doing a play in London at the time they were shot. 

Overall, I Know Where I’m Going! is a somewhat enjoyable light romantic comedy.  Other than some very fine photography, there is not much else that stands out.  Still, it was nice to learn a little bit about Scottish customs, and the bagpipes weren’t played so much that I  wanted to hit mute too often, either.

Love Stories: A Matter of Life and Death

I first saw A Matter of Life and Death (1946), aka Stairway to Heaven, when I was a young woman in love. I started to watch it one night when it was broadcast on television and I found it to be mesmerizing. I remember discussing it with the young man that I would marry. It is a love story that literally transcends this world.

British Squadron Leader Peter D. Carter (David Niven) finds himself on the 2nd of May 1945 in a situation without a good resolution. The bombed and tattered airplane he is flying is on fire, without working instruments or landing gear, and is going to crash. There are no parachutes left because he has sent all of the other men out with them, except for Bob who has already died. Peter is a poet and quotes from Sir Walter Raleigh’s The Passionate Man’s Pilgrimage, whose verses chronicle a believer’s soul being taken to heaven, where it is forgiven, and awaiting its immortal body. Peter also quotes from Andrew Marvell’s To His Coy Mistress, the passage with “But at my back I always hear Time’s winged chariot hurrying near” because he knows his minutes are numbered and passing quickly.

The person with whom Peter is speaking is an American stationed in England named June (Kim Hunter), who is attempting to maintain radio communication with him to help if at all possible. Peter provides June with the critical facts of what has happened to Station Warrenden bomber group AG. He asks June to send a telegram to his mother and two sisters about his love for them. Peter explains he is going to bail out, without a chute, because he would rather jump than fry.

Peter becomes concerned he is frightening June and he doesn’t want to do that. He asks if she is pretty and tells her she has a good voice and guts and, if she is around when they find his body, she should look away. Peter presses and tells June he wants to be alone with her. He learns she was born in Boston, Mass., and asks the big question.

Peter: Are you in love with anybody? No, no, don’t answer that.
June: I could love a man like you, Peter.
Peter: I love you, June. You’re Life, and I’m leaving you.

And these are just the opening seven minutes of this classic film. Our next setting shifts to monochrome, away from Earth’s three-strip Technicolor, and it is in Heaven where we learn that the alarm bells ring when the records don’t match; then, the bells start to ring. When Peter wakes up he is in water, on the beach, and surveys what he thinks must be Heaven. He is delighted to see a dog but then puzzled by a “Keep Out” sign. He then sees a woman bicycling and speaks with her, immediately knowing that she is June and he is alive and they have fallen in love.

The error of not collecting Peter at his appointed time was made by Conductor 71, charmingly portrayed by Marius Goring (who starred with Moira Shearer in The Red Shoes, beautifully written about at the Café by ClassicBecky). He is sent to bring Peter in now but Peter refuses to go with him. June takes Peter to meet Dr. Frank Reeves (Roger Livesey), who sincerely wants to help Peter and encourages him to fight. And that is what the movie becomes, as this matter of Peter’s life and death is argued before a celestial court.

This film was lovingly made by the Archers, Sir Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, just after the end of WWII. Jack Cardiff provided the spectacular cinematography. David Niven and Kim Hunter have remarkable chemistry and are provided excellent support by Roger Livesey, who had appeared in two other Archers’ films The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp and I Know Where I’m Going. Another of my favorite films is their atmospheric Black Narcissus, which features cinematography, courtesy of Jack Cardiff again, that is arguably among the most brilliant lensing ever done. That film's unforgettable performance is provided by Kathleen Byron, who has a small role in A Matter of Life and Death.

In rewatching this film with my husband, it was pleasant to recall my first viewing. Though three decades have moved along, we are still very much in love.