27
Oct11
Those obscure objects of (British) Cinema. A conversation with Flipside’s Sam Dunn
by Daniele Rugo
Since 2009 Flipside brings back the cinematographic ghosts of British Cinema. These hidden gems –rather than simply pleasing the cinefiles – offer an alternative history of cinema in the UK, ‘untapped gems, hidden under the strata of decades’ worth of the more visible works which eclipse them. The filmic equivalent of rich coal seams or oil wells’ Daniele Rugo speaks to the man behind the BFI Flipside collection.
1. What is the idea and what are the circumstances behind the birth of Flipside?
Flipside was the brainchild of Vic Pratt and William Fowler, two BFI Curators (for Fiction and Artists Moving Image respectively) who developed the screening strand at the BFI Southbank in 2006, and continue to curate it to this day.
On the big screen, Flipside has always had an international focus (though with a heavy emphasis on British), and has been dedicated to showcasing the many bizarre, obscure and under-seen films which are preserved within the BFI National Archive.
The Flipside Collection on DVD/Blu-ray, however, concentrates solely on telling the complex story behind a hidden history of British cinema. The strand was launched in May 2009 with The Bed Sitting Room, London in the Raw and Primitive London.
2. What are the criteria that guide the selection of the films?
A film should be British. Of course, the collection features the work of some exceptional international directors – including Richard Lester and Jerzy Skolimowski – as well as films which are international co-productions, or even shot for the most part outside of Britain (such as Deep End, which qualifies as ‘British’ in a number of other ways).
As the collection is concerned with shedding light on long-forgotten, undervalued and long-unseen works, a prerequisite is that the films we select haven’t already been published on any home video format. However, there have been some exceptions to this rule.
Man of Violence
Pete Walker’s Man of Violence had a VHS outing in the early 80s but was never re- issued or made available on DVD. We knew we had access to very high quality film materials which would make for a beautiful release. Also, we knew that it was not the kind of film that was otherwise represented within the collection. Finally, the film has some incredible location work that gives it great historical and social value.
Similarly, Lindsay Shonteff’s Permissive had had a VHS release in the late 90s. However, the release made relatively little impact, and didn’t do much for getting the film back on the cultural map, so to speak. It’s an exceptional film in a number of ways, not least because it completely fails to deliver on its apparent promise of exploitation thrills, and in fact takes the viewer on an unexpectedly grim journey. Again, it addresses certain themes and speaks to a particular mode of production which means that it occupies a unique place within the Flipside range. It’s also got some very rare footage of some fascinating bands in their heyday, especially Comus, who also composed the incidental music.
Peter Watkins’ Privilege had had a US DVD release, through New Yorker Films, but we couldn’t really consider not giving the film its UK premiere release on the basis that it was available elsewhere (and as New Yorker was having some troubles at the time, it looked as though the title might go out of print, which was something we wanted to insure against).
3. Bringing an archive to light is always a tr icky affair . While it helps under standing a certain ‘history’, a set of genealogies, it can always cast a shadow on – perhaps even disqualify – the accepted ‘history’. Films we have so far consider ed as being milestones may become less important and lose their ‘place’. Is there a way of avoiding this risk, or is it perhaps always necessary to renegotiate the history of film, regardless of the consequences?
As a publisher, the BFI has always had been responsible for setting the agenda in the area of home entertainment releasing. During its earliest days, its Connoisseur imprint was one of only a very few labels, and it truly led the way in bringing works by some of the world’s greatest directors – Tati, Ophuls, Fellini, Pasolini – back into circulation(outside, that is, of whatever limited exposure they may have been getting on TV or in rep cinemas).
Similarly, Lindsay Shonteff’s Permissive had had a VHS release in the late 90s. However, the release made relatively little impact, and didn’t do much for getting the film back on the cultural map, so to speak. It’s an exceptional film in a number of ways, not least because it completely fails to deliver on its apparent promise of exploitation thrills, and in fact takes the viewer on an unexpectedly grim journey. Again, it addresses certain themes and speaks to a particular mode of production which means that it occupies a unique place within the Flipside range. It’s also got some very rare footage of some fascinating bands in their heyday, especially Comus, who also composed the incidental music.
Peter Watkins’ Privilege had had a US DVD release, through New Yorker Films, but we couldn’t really consider not giving the film its UK premiere release on the basis that it was available elsewhere (and as New Yorker was having some troubles at the time, it looked as though the title might go out of print, which was something we wanted to insure against).
3. Bringing an archive to light is always a tr icky affair . While it helps under standing a certain ‘history’, a set of genealogies, it can always cast a shadow on – perhaps even disqualify – the accepted ‘history’. Films we have so far consider ed as being milestones may become less important and lose their ‘place’. Is there a way of avoiding this risk, or is it perhaps always necessary to renegotiate the history of film, regardless of the consequences?
As a publisher, the BFI has always had been responsible for setting the agenda in the area of home entertainment releasing. During its earliest days, its Connoisseur imprint was one of only a very few labels, and it truly led the way in bringing works by some of the world’s greatest directors – Tati, Ophuls, Fellini, Pasolini – back into circulation(outside, that is, of whatever limited exposure they may have been getting on TV or in rep cinemas).
Duffer
Since that time, the landscape has changed radically, and the success of home video, specifically the World Cinema ‘genre’ on VHS, and subsequently DVD, gave rise to a rapidly-expanding number of labels all of whom saw that there was a growing market for international films. And, well, the rest is history (as they say). Now, if you want Fellini – you’ve got it. And, if you want Bergman – you’ve got it. And we’re not only talking here about the best-known works of a given ‘auteur’ (as was the case in the early days of VHS) but of complete collections.
When I joined the BFI in 2008, I felt that what was missing from this picture was any representation of those films or filmmakers which have never been celebrated or recognised. And while this is certainly the ‘remit’ of Flipside, it’s important to make clear that it’s actually the philosophy which permeates and informs almost everything we do.
So, while the BFI’s publishing label still works hard to bring a number of essential (and often otherwise unreleased) works from a number of great directors (including Pasolini, Kurosawa, Schroeder, etc.) to DVD/Blu-ray in high quality editions, it also publishes a range of works which have been lost to audiences since their original screenings. Recent/ongoing examples could include: the many COI films we regularly publish; the original Czech version of Svankmajer’s Alice; the films of John Krish; Ponting’s The Great White Silence; Asquith’s Cottage on Dartmoor (and, soon, Underground); Tony Garnett’s Prostitute; the films of Jeff Keen; Bertolucci’s Before the Revolution; the films of the Adelphi studio; etc.
When I joined the BFI in 2008, I felt that what was missing from this picture was any representation of those films or filmmakers which have never been celebrated or recognised. And while this is certainly the ‘remit’ of Flipside, it’s important to make clear that it’s actually the philosophy which permeates and informs almost everything we do.
So, while the BFI’s publishing label still works hard to bring a number of essential (and often otherwise unreleased) works from a number of great directors (including Pasolini, Kurosawa, Schroeder, etc.) to DVD/Blu-ray in high quality editions, it also publishes a range of works which have been lost to audiences since their original screenings. Recent/ongoing examples could include: the many COI films we regularly publish; the original Czech version of Svankmajer’s Alice; the films of John Krish; Ponting’s The Great White Silence; Asquith’s Cottage on Dartmoor (and, soon, Underground); Tony Garnett’s Prostitute; the films of Jeff Keen; Bertolucci’s Before the Revolution; the films of the Adelphi studio; etc.
Jan Svankmajer's Alice
4. Do you think you could do for British Cinema what Henri Langlois did for French Cinema? Not just preserving those obscure objects of cinema other wise lost, but inspire and nourish a generation of future filmmakers?
It’d be wonderful to think that through making these films available (whether the Flipside strand, or the wider range of titles) a knock-on effect could be that we provide the circumstances for new filmmakers to see them, and to be inspired by them. This question is central to almost everything which the BFI gets up to.
Recent examples which would seem to suggest that we are being successful in this respect include kind words from the likes of Nicolas Winding Refn (who continues to champion what we’re doing by citing our releases in the national press - he said in the Observer that his current favourite film was Man of Violence - or advocating with statements such as “Every time BFI Flipside releases a newly discovered film I always go and get it. It's like finding lost treasure.”) and Ben Wheatley (who remarked that “Flipside provides a window onto a time in British cinema when real film artists stalked our land.”). I think both of these filmmakers see the Flipside releases as speaking to them in a way that many other releases don’t. The films in the strand are made by filmmakers who fought to create something unique and off the beaten track, and this definitely resonates with them.
5. Why were these films lost? What are the conditions that decree the oblivion of a film?
The reasons are many and varied: a film may have suffered poor box office returns or bad reviews; it could have been given only half-baked distribution; it might have been held up due to any number of legal issues; or spent years in limbo due to the pecking order of major studio priorities. The passage of time tends to cement the fact of a film’s unavailability and firmly consign it to the ‘lost’ pile, but rather than see such films as long-gone and worthless, I’d prefer to view them as untapped gems, hidden under the strata of decades’ worth of the more visible works which eclipse them. The filmic equivalent of rich coal seams or oil wells.
It’d be wonderful to think that through making these films available (whether the Flipside strand, or the wider range of titles) a knock-on effect could be that we provide the circumstances for new filmmakers to see them, and to be inspired by them. This question is central to almost everything which the BFI gets up to.
Recent examples which would seem to suggest that we are being successful in this respect include kind words from the likes of Nicolas Winding Refn (who continues to champion what we’re doing by citing our releases in the national press - he said in the Observer that his current favourite film was Man of Violence - or advocating with statements such as “Every time BFI Flipside releases a newly discovered film I always go and get it. It's like finding lost treasure.”) and Ben Wheatley (who remarked that “Flipside provides a window onto a time in British cinema when real film artists stalked our land.”). I think both of these filmmakers see the Flipside releases as speaking to them in a way that many other releases don’t. The films in the strand are made by filmmakers who fought to create something unique and off the beaten track, and this definitely resonates with them.
5. Why were these films lost? What are the conditions that decree the oblivion of a film?
The reasons are many and varied: a film may have suffered poor box office returns or bad reviews; it could have been given only half-baked distribution; it might have been held up due to any number of legal issues; or spent years in limbo due to the pecking order of major studio priorities. The passage of time tends to cement the fact of a film’s unavailability and firmly consign it to the ‘lost’ pile, but rather than see such films as long-gone and worthless, I’d prefer to view them as untapped gems, hidden under the strata of decades’ worth of the more visible works which eclipse them. The filmic equivalent of rich coal seams or oil wells.
Can you mention a recent British film – or a number of them – that, despite its intrinsic significance, has been already for gotten (and is therefor e a candidate for a future Flipside edition)?
I’m not sure that I can answer the question exactly as posed, but there are films – Richard Bracewell’s The Gigolos, for instance, or This Is What It Is by Cristian Solimeno – which have been made with small budgets by people whose passion for cinema and its potential is infectious. The BFI did actually release The Gigolos, but This Is What It Is has, as far as I’m aware, not been released at all to date.
I’m not sure that I can answer the question exactly as posed, but there are films – Richard Bracewell’s The Gigolos, for instance, or This Is What It Is by Cristian Solimeno – which have been made with small budgets by people whose passion for cinema and its potential is infectious. The BFI did actually release The Gigolos, but This Is What It Is has, as far as I’m aware, not been released at all to date.
At this stage in the evolution of Flipside it’s hard to say how soon is too soon for a film. So far, the majority of the films we’ve been releasing were made in the 60s and 70s, and we’ve moved into the 80s with Voice Over (and will continue this direction in future). The question of what we do with the 80s, 90s and beyond is an interesting one. For now, I can only advise that you watch this space…
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