Karel Reisz left a lasting legacy
for British cinema through his work with the Free Cinema movement and
his contribution to the British New Wave. And with Saturday Night and
Sunday Morning he gave us the original working class angry young man.
Karel Reisz arrived in England aged just 11 in 1938, a refugee from
Nazi-occupied Czechoslovakia. He first made an impact on the British
film scene as a film critic in the late 1940s, contributing to Sequence
and Sight & Sound, before going on to become the first programmer
at the National Film Theatre in 1952. He was also a film technician,
writing a leading text on the subject, The Technique of Film Editing
in 1953. But it was as part of the Free Cinema Movement that Reisz first
helped to influence a new direction in British filmmaking.
Post-war British film was dominated by traditional, literary adaptations
and irreverent studio comedies where working class characters were often
inconsequential stereotypes, handy for the odd plot diversion but never
the central focus of a film. The Free Cinema movement came together
as a reaction against the conservatism of British cinema, by producing
shorter, low budget documentaries that highlighted the reality of contemporary
British society. Viewed as part of 6 showcases over 3 years, the films
highlighted a hereto under represented section of British life - the
working classes - as real people going about their ordinary business.
The movement was founded in the mid 1950s by Reisz, Lindsay Anderson,
Tony Richardson and Lorenza Mazzatti. Reisz co-directed Momma Don't
Allow (1953) with Richardson, and went on to direct We Are The Lambeth
Boys (1958) shown as part of the final Free Cinema event. Reisz's films,
along with those of all the filmmakers involved, broke free from the
constraints of traditional studio output and placed the films at the
heart of a natural setting, and this translated through into the New
Wave feature films of the early 1960s. Hand held camera work and location
shooting changed the face of British films. Acknowledging the pioneering
work of documentary realists such as Grierson and Jennings, the Free
Cinema movement brought much needed free expression.
This free expression is reflected on screen in both of Reisz's contributions,
both of which show British youth in a relaxed setting. From the teen
fuelled atmosphere of the jazz scene in Momma Don't Allow, with its
atmospheric jazz score, to the natural posturing of the youths featured
in We Are the Lambeth Boys. Both films were not afraid to show young
working class people as they really were, in a contemporary context.
Whilst We Are the Lambeth Boys has its moments of stilted predictability,
it still dared to expose working class young people enjoying themselves.
This theme is again explored later on by Reisz in Saturday Night and
Sunday Morning as Arthur Seaton is seen having a good time with other
young people, living for his Friday night down the pub.
We Are the Lambeth Boys Whilst they were pioneering, the films were
seen mainly by select industry insiders and not in mainstream cinemas
by the very people the films were reflecting. But it was the influence
of these films on the realist movement that was to follow that had a
lasting impact on British filmmaking, and it was Reisz that brought
us the real breakthrough film in New Wave cinema. Saturday Night and
Sunday Morning (1960), adapted by Alan Sillitoe from his own novel and
directed by Reisz, captured the imagination of the British public and
was undoubtedly one of the most influential films of the British New
Wave. It heralded a new distinctive movement with its dramatic and unprecedented
scenes of working class life and the presence of Arthur Seaton, the
British New Wave's very own working class anti-hero. Through telling
Arthur's story so distinctively, Reisz captured a moment in time of
post-war working class Britain.
Even from the first scene Reisz's film was remarkable, with the real
sounds and sights of the factory. No opening titles, no rousing classical
music score, this film was about real life and real people. Arthur Seaton
is not introduced to us as a classic hero, our protagonist is shown
in his true light as he bitterly casts his thoughts on work, his colleagues
and his ambitions. The opening shots of the workers leaving the factory
and making their way home through the Nottingham streets captures the
image and atmosphere of the real industrial environment. A scene that
would have been familiar to those watching, the link between audience
and film was captured so clearly for them to identify with. The location
is perhaps as much a star of the film as Arthur Seaton.
The film never compromises its raw energy, as Reisz draws you into
Arthur's world and we follow his exploits from an uncomfortably close
proximity. Arthur is a complex character, battling with his own anger
and frustrations, but never managing to break free from the constraints
he is rebelling against, and Reisz produced such an inspired performance
from Albert Finney in the lead role.
The unflinching honesty is also illustrated in Anderson's This Sporting
Life (1963) which Reisz produced, reuniting two Free Cinema pioneers
to create what can perhaps be seen as the darkest film of the New Wave
movement. Again, the emotional awkwardness and aggression of a young
working class man wrestling with life on the boundaries of a community
dominates the film.
Saturday Night and Sunday Morning pioneered the style and passion of
the British New Wave and the films that followed. But it is Reisz's
film that captivates the audience, capturing the energy of the time.
He took the influences of neo-realism and documentary, and the innovation
of Free Cinema, and developed them into a unique film that captured
the thoughts and feelings of disillusioned working class youth and placed
them at the forefront of contemporary culture.
Despite a long and distinguished film career spent largely in the US,
that included acclaimed films such as The French Lieutenant's Woman
(1981), Reisz's legacy for British Cinema was his involvement with the
cutting edge of 1960s cinema, and his ability to capture life as it
was. His unique eye brought energy and vitality to the British film
scene, introducing those on the margins into the mainstream.