I think that it is very difficult to ignore the contribution made by British Cinema during the years 1939 to

1945. Due to an entertainment tax imposed in an effort to boost the country' s economy cinema prices had
risen, however, 'it was calculated, everybody in Britain under the age of 40 (sic) went to at least fifty three
feature films a year'1. This shows the widespread access and the potential influence cinema had on the
general public. Not only was the cinema used as a place of entertainment but also as a place to hear of
current affairs from the weekly newsreels. The late 1930s had been a struggle for Britain to successfully
compete in the international marketplace, however, the Second World War gave the British film industry
and its filmmakers an ideal opportunity to shine. The nation was looking for support and reassurance and
the film industry was in an ideal position to do just that. British wartime cinema entered its most fruitful
period on record with a sudden, and necessary, burst of creative activity.
As the documentary filmmakers of the 1930s had previously discovered their role to be that of
commentator, to reflect society and to mirror the strengths of the British public, they were quickly utilised
to produce films that would inform and unite a population in crisis. A national identity was being sought
and, at last, documentary had found its niche and enjoyed the greatest audience attendances of its history.
These films were championed for their realistic qualities and non-sensationalism of the war. However,
whilst docu-realism was directly informing the public of wartime events purely fictional films were
providing a light-hearted distraction from the atrocities of daily life. These films echoed in a more subtle
fashion the propagandist themes perpetuated by the government. This newfound enthusiasm for British
film may have sprung from a growing sense of patriotism as the war intensified, indeed it should not be
believed that filmmakers suddenly developed new cinematic skills overnight. It could be contested that this
increased popularity for homegrown product was attributed to a desire to see a 'true' reflection of Britain
after the uninspiring cycle of music hall comedies and documentaries produced during the 1930s.
A body was formed by the government to regulate and control the output of filmmakers in Britain during
the war period. The Ministry of Information decided that films made during wartime should focus on one
of three themes to carry an underlying message of strength and power. Whilst it was not compulsory for
filmmakers to make propaganda films, there were certain incentives if a film carried a message of support
or nationalism. Artists could be released from their military ranks if a script was deemed suitable in the
hope that the star's appearance would increase the film's appeal. Whilst not helping the country directly, the
actor was seen to be mobilising the war effort in other ways. The government wanted as many people as
possible to have access to these films that would potentially influence public opinion and this was a
realistic way of reaching that goal. Funding was another possibility with the Ministry of Information
commissioning certain films to be made. These films tended to be shorts, hoping that an important
message could be communicated in a brief space of time. However, as subtlety is the most effective
propaganda, any official funding was closely guarded to ensure that it didn't affect the audience decision
when choosing a film.
The three propagandist themes were very loosely categorised into 'what Britain is fighting for', 'how Britain
fights', and 'the need for sacrifices if the fight is to be won' so that it was difficult for a film not to fit in
some way. The guidance offered was seen to be limited which prompted Michael Balcon to write a letter to
The Times newspaper in January 1943 expressing his disgust as he felt that 'at no time has the government
given us a lead in what it has required [...] Such national propaganda as emerged from the industry was
made entirely on its own initiative and certainly without an overall scheme of propaganda.'2 The Ministry
of Information, whilst it knew what it hoped the British film industry would provide in the way of support
and motivation, had not realised what a difficult task lay ahead. Little, or nothing, in the way of a national
identity could easily and automatically be identified with by the public at large. The film industry had to
integrate all that it believed made Britain unique, more ostensibly English, into easily identifiable packages
for effortless consumption by its audience. There was little that had been seen on cinema screens prior to
the war that could be instantly recognised as Britain or British.
Echoing these thoughts, Antonia Lant in her essay Blackout: Reinventing Women for Wartime British
Cinema also realised that 'the stuff of national identity had to be winnowed and forged from the traditional
aesthetic and narrative forms, borrowed from the diverse conventions of melodrama, realism, and fantasy,
and transplanted from literature, painting, and history, into the cinema.'3 Previous texts of the 1930s had
portrayed a very regionalised picture of Britain, splitting the nation by class and gender with very definite
boundaries. The northern working classes were portrayed in an almost cartoon like fashion and were often
included in films for comedy relief. Strict guidelines were therefore enforced to raise the cultural and
intellectual levels of the general public whilst also moderating the amount of information they were
exposed to whether it be on the weekly newsreels or a feature film. The general spirit of each film had to
be one of strength and unity, portraying positive images despite the suffering that continued around the
audience daily. Cinemas were open daily varying their programme weekly. 'It took a war to compel the
British to look at themselves and find themselves interesting'4 Dilys Powell remarked and I believe that this
epitomises the way in which wartime propaganda theory helped British film to find an identity for Britain
and the British that would persist.
As the war affected everybody cinema audiences became easier to target as class and other regional barriers
were broken. Everyone had to help each other through whatever difficulties they faced. This newfound
patriotism spread and audiences wanted to see themselves depicted on film whether in real or fictional
situations. The unifying effect of the war also extended to cinema attendance. Cinemas were seen to be a
refuge from daily life and, with a shortage of other entertainments, film not only provided an escape but
also a safe haven from the dangers of falling bombs. Despite on screen warnings of impending air raids,
many patrons chose to stay in their seats as they felt safer in the cinema than in their own homes due to the
structure of the buildings.
The use of 'story' documentary was popular in portraying real situations, often using real people instead of
actors, to reflect a nation united in her difficulties. Although often wooden, these new 'stars' exposed 'real'
life in narrative form for the audiences back home. Critics preferred this documentary style of reporting and
praised the way in which a new national cinema was emerging at a time when it was needed most. The
realist approach was seen to be more honest, if not quite so entertaining as 'the national ideal remained [...]
The national disgrace was the dingy sensationalism of No Orchids For Miss Blandish (1948), or They
Made Me A Fugitive (1947) and its fellow spiv dramas'.5 To Roger Manvell and his fellow film historians
these realist features helped the British public to rediscover themselves, and to recognise the strengths each
individual possessed. The situations presented were, at last, 'real' and not distortions of the truth as had
been previously depicted. The characters had a sense of power and ability despite their background.
Many women found that, for the first time, they had a controlling power. They could have a second role
alongside that of wife or mother, and by 1944, seven and a half million women were working outside of the
home.6 It was realised to be an advantage that only in these difficult times could one's true potential be
harnessed. Employed in a variety of roles, women were given the opportunity to challenge their previously
subservient positions, they were made to realise that their part in daily life was as important to the war
effort as those on the frontlines. The government noted this newfound confidence and encouraged
filmmakers to make sure that every effort was made to reflect and encourage it. In Millions Like Us (1943)
both actuality and fictional narration were used to portray the various roles of conscripted women across
different classes. The film hides the obvious propaganda message of 'you can help your country just as
much in an overall as you can in a uniform'7 whilst tackling issues of love and looking forward to a post
war society. The fact that women should be relied upon to be glamorous and feminine was a further
underlying feature and, once the war was over they could, again, return to their lives of domesticity should
they choose to do so. Despite this portrayal, the government did not show any concerted effort to
encourage women back into the home once the war was over as had been done after World War I. It had
now been recognised that here was a strong workforce that could be utilised long after the war had ended.
Women were given much greater prominence in films during the war period, not least because they now
made up the vast part of cinema audiences as the men had been conscripted, but mainly because their
contribution was vital to the war effort. They were being reassured and praised for their contributions in a
wide variety of films. The true experiences of women during this time, however, were rarely commented
on. Most films concentrated on the periphery of daily life, such as friendships and work, rather than the real
struggle to maintain a family whilst working long hours, enforced rationing, coping without loved ones and
the very real temptation of extra-marital affairs. Whilst the Ministry of Information were not unaware of
these issues they wanted to maintain an image of strength. These problems could only be seen as
weaknesses to be eradicated or mistakes to be penalized. Audiences did realise that films were not 'moral
instruction manuals to prove that sins are punished, that unhappy ends don't flow from sins whose
avoidance would have brought a happy end. And that unhappiness can hit us as arbitrarily as a German
bomb, or illness, or fatal complications in childbirth.'8 The Ministry of Information, and filmmakers, were
aware that women were becoming more adventurous with their sexuality. Fashion was becoming more
important and films began to reflect this fresh, new liberty. Censorship ethics, whilst much more relaxed
during the war years, still prevented many of these topics from being discussed openly but suggestions of
promiscuity were more prevalent in films towards the end of the war. In Love Story (1944) the main
character knows that she will die within six months and has nothing to lose by expressing her sexuality
freely. As the nation lived under the constant threat of death the film seemed to echo the general feeling of
living for the day. The film concludes with 'the happiness we have is worth grasping - if only for a day or
an hour'9.
In spite of the increasing transformation of women and their role in society, and whilst many women felt as
though they had been freed from their shackles, most women were utterly exhausted by the demands being
made on them. However, they found their new challenges to be refreshing and empowering. This common
feeling forged an ever-growing solidarity amongst women from different social backgrounds that would
change the portrayed image of women in British film forever.
Whilst the type of films being produced was varied throughout the war, cinema audiences were becoming
increasingly restless with the prominently documentary repertoire. Realism and the unsensational
documentary drama was no longer sufficient to entertain the masses and demand was growing for the
dramatic and entertaining films from studios such as Gainsborough. These films offered fantasy, escapism
and the hope that an end to the war was in sight. However, not all critics approved of this blithe approach
to production. Whilst the war continued, many films' content was seen to be trivial, avoiding confronting
the important issues of the day. A rare exception to this rule seemed to be Henry V (1944) which being a
historical representation, and Shakespeare play, was worthy of note. 'The success of Henry V challenges
the assumption [...] that documentary style realism is the sole criterion of propaganda [...] the use of
Shakespeare, the writer privileged above all others in discourses on English heritage, might be seen as an
attempt by the propagandists to assert their own officially legitimated culture with audiences. [...] In this
sense Henry V perfectly exemplifies the operation of British film propaganda.'10 Patriotism and
nationalism reverberated through the film whilst not on the same scale or with the same resonance that had
been previously experienced in the documentaries of the early 1940s. Nonetheless, the film made cinema
audiences sit up once again and pay attention to the fact that they needed to remain united in order to win
the war. The film also had a second equally important role. To project an image of Britain across the
world. Whilst most films were open for consumption on the world market, few caught international
attention like this period drama. The long-term hope was to prove British cinema could hold its place in the
international marketplace. In order to do this a high quality threshold had to be maintained. Following
from Korda's Private Life of Henry VIII (1933) Henry V was a prestige production whose nationalistic
themes reflected the propagandist themes desired by the government. Here was the hope for the future, a
utopia hat never really stayed for very long.
To conclude, I believe that the British film industry truly found its strength and character during the early
1940s. Film was utilised as an effective tool to not only support and reassure a nation facing difficulty, but
to project this image across the water. Film production may have been inhibited by strict controls of
rationing and censorship but never before, or since, has British cinema experienced such a buoyant period.

Notes.

1.Geoffrey MacNab, J. Arthur Rank and The British Film Industry (London: Routledge, 1994), p.37.

2.Penelope Houston, Went the Day Well? (London: British Film Institute, 1992), p.25.

3.Angela Lant, 'Blackout: Reinventing Women for Wartime British Cinema' (Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press, 1991), p.31 in The British Cinema Book, ed. by Robert Murphy (London: British Film
Institute, 1997), p.71.

4.Dilys Powell, 'Films Since 1939' (London, 1947), p.28 in British Cinema. The Lights That Failed. James
Park (London: BT Batford Ltd, 1990), p.69.

5.Geoff Brown, 'Paradise Found and Lost: The Course of British Realism', in The British Cinema Book, ed.
by Robert Murphy (London, BFI Publishing, 1997), pp.187-197 (p.188).

6.Robert Murphy, Realism and Tinsel: Cinema and Society in Britain 1939-1949 (London: Routledge,
1989) p.99.
7.Ibid., p.58.

8.Raymond Durgnat, 'Some Lines of Inquiry into Post-war British Crimes', in The British Cinema Book,
ed. by Robert Murphy (London, BFI Publishing, 1997), pp.90-102 (p.92).

9.Sue Aspinall, 'Women, Realism and Reality in British Films, 1943-53', in British Cinema History, ed. by
James Curran and Vincent Porter (London: Weidenfield and Nicolson, 1983), pp.272-293 (p.275).

10.James Chapman, 'Cinema, propaganda and national identity: British Film and the Second World War', in
British Cinema, Pas and Present, ed. by Justine Ashby and Andrew Higson (London: Routledge, 2000),
pp.193-206 (p.204).

Bibliography.

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(London: IB Tauris, 1999)

Ashby, Justine and Andrew Higson, eds., British Cinema Past and Present (London: Routledge, 2000)

Betts, Ernest, The Film Business (London: Allen & Unwin, 1973)

Curran, James and Vincent Porter, eds, British Cinema History (London: Wiedenfield and Nicolson, 1983)

Dickinson, Margaret and Sarah Street, Cinema and State. The Film Industry and the British Government
1927-1984. (London: BFI, 1985)

Houston, Penelope, Went The Day Well? (London: BFI, 1992)

MacNab, Geoffrey, J. Arthur Rank and the British Film Industry (London: Routledge, 1994)

Murphy, Robert, Realism and Tinsel: Cinema and Society in Britain 1939-1949 (London: Routledge, 1989)

Murphy, Robert, ed., The British Cinema Book (London: BFI, 1999)

Park, James, British Cinema. The Lights That Failed (London: BT Batford, 1990)