Archive for Edinburgh

My City Again

Posted in FILM with tags , , , on May 7, 2010 by dcairns

From Humphrey Jennings’ WORDS FOR BATTLE, a WWII propaganda short made with Jennings’ typical romantic wildness and sensitivity. Structured around a series of speeches about Britain, by various poets, writers and statesmen, all read by Laurence Olivier, it’s very effective and rousing. This shot of Edinburgh appears during a Churchill speech (“We shall fight them in the hills…”) The hill here is Salisbury Crags, part of the Queens Park and the large hill Arthur’s Seat, part of an extinct volcano that also provided us with the fist of igneous rock Edinburgh Castle sits on.

Look at all that chimney smoke! That’s the reason our older buildings are all black, though they’re made from light-coloured sandstone. The soot mixed with all the moisture in the Scottish air and formed smog, painting our streets on dense charcoal shades. I love this dirty town.

My City #5

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , , , , , , , on February 5, 2010 by dcairns

Princes Street (screen right). The word “Directed” is slapped on top of Edinburgh Castle.

THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES is one of a trio of post-Ealing comedies directed by Charles Crichton, which sought to replicate, perhaps a little self-consciously, the “gentle humour” associated with that studio’s output. Crichton’s cinema career rather sputtered out over the course of these productions (THE LOVE LOTTERY, LAW AND DISORDER), although he remained active in television. It took the injection of some Monty Python acidity to give Crichton a sudden boost — A FISH CALLED WANDA ended his  career on a high.

In TBOTS, Peter Sellers gets to demonstrate his celebrated versatility as an elderly Scotsman, whose tweed company is threatened with modernization by American businesswoman Constance Cummings. I don’t know how faithful the treatment is to James Thurber’s source story, The Catbird Seat, but the action largely plays in Edinburgh, which is where I come in.

This is one of those productions that snatch a few set-ups in Edinburgh then decamp to an English studio (in this case, Independent Artists Studios, Beaconsfield, now the National Film School). Crichton chooses some prime tourist spots, cramming Edinburgh Castle into the background whenever he can swing it ~

The columns screen left are part of the National Gallery, an eighteenth-century neoclassical affair. The castle is arrayed along the horizon. Robert Morley is meant to be in the cab but I’m not sure he is.

However, the stars of the film did make it up here, so we get a nice “and did these feet in ancient times” feeling from seeing Sellers and Cummings in situ.

Here’s Sellers on the High Street, with the law courts and St Giles Cathedral behind him, where, exactly forty years later, we’ll film the hanging of William Burke in BURKE AND HARE: THE MUSICAL. I think the little side-street (or “close”) Sellers has just emerged from was also used in that short.

The street is Castle Wynd, the Castle is silhouetted at screen top courtesy of a graded filter, and the building with all the windows at screen left is Edinburgh College of Art, where you’ll find me on teaching days. But not in 1959, when I was minus eight years old.

This one really looks like a glimpse into another time. Yet only the traffic has really changed today. The building screen left was the North British Hotel and is now the Balmoral, otherwise unaltered. In the far distance is the volcanic jut of Salisbury Crags, which hasn’t moved about for tens of thousands of years, at least. The bridge leads up to shops which are still shops and newspaper offices which are now a hotel. Oh, I guess that nice lamppost has gone. If I were really ambitious I’d go up town and take a snap from the same spot, but the zoom’s broken on my camera so I might not be able to match the framing.

Here’s an odd one. To save money, when Sellers and Cummings head north to visit the crofters who make the tweed his company deals in, the scenes are actually shot in around Arthur’s Seat, the big volcanic hill in Edinburgh’s Queen’s Park. Essentially the same crags seen in the distance in image 4.

The movie itself is mildly funny, sinisterly sexist, and suffers from the unadventurous spirit of much 1950s British filmmaking. The burst of energy released during wartime, which lasted to some extent into the early 50s, boosting the ambitions of modest talents and allowing great ones like Powell & Pressburger to attain amazing heights, has now largely dissipated. In a few years, a whole new energy will be unleashed, in which Sellers’ former TV collaborator, Richard Lester will play a major role…

UK Shadowplayers can buy BATTLE here:
Battle Of The Sexes [1959] [DVD]

And Crichton’s more interesting wartime opus, POINTED BOATS, here:
Painted Boats [DVD] [1945]

My City #3

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , , , on January 16, 2010 by dcairns

Ronald Neame’s very lovely film of Muriel Spark’s THE PRIME OF MISS JEAN BRODIE is actually one of relatively few major movies to prominently feature Edinburgh locations. TRAINSPOTTING was shot mainly in Glasgow, so apart from the opening sequence you don’t get to enjoy sunny Leith and its slums. A shame, because there’s a subtle difference in style of bad area from one city to another, although the social problems don’t vary that much.

The Neame film is another kettle of fish: while there’s certainly a dark side to it, the surroundings are more on the charming, “genteel” side, which is in keeping with the reputation Edinburgh inexplicably has. Also inexplicable: the fact that so few films come here when you can still achieve a shot like the one above: just say “1932″ or whatever and choose your angle carefully and you can pretend it’s any period you like. The distance from London and the lack of studio facilities are the only two explanations possible, but they seem inadequate to account for Edinburgh’s cinematic neglect.

Maggie Smith’s accent, or “eccent,” which she’s still getting good mileage out of in HARRY POTTER, and which others, such as John Hurt in ROB ROY, have taken off the peg and deployed from time to time, doesn’t correspond to any accent I’ve ever actually encountered in my life. But it seems to have some kind of historical existence as a mode of speech favoured by the blue-rinsed old ladies of Morningside, who would have been schoolgirls in 1932, so I guess it’s authentic.

And it has given rise to the following “joke”. Not quite sure it’ll work in print though, unless you read it aloud and do the voice.

A schoolteacher in Morningside addresses her class: “Cless, I em going to name some cepital cities, and I want you to tell me which countries they ere in. Peris.”

“Frence,” chant the class.

“Medrid.”

“Spain,” chant the class.

“Ostend.”

And they all get up.

Think I can probably squeeze a few more posts out of this movie’s scenery. US buyers can get the DVD here:
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 235 other followers