Locating Loach

Although fairly unfamiliar with the work of Ken Loach before beginning my Cultural Studies degree course, I have come to experience and enjoy several of his films, mostly via the 'Narrative Film' and 'Post-War TV Drama' options.

Indeed, this dissertation is an extension of an essay completed for 'Narrative Film'¹, With this dissertation I aim to plug the gaps of that work, looking extensively at both Loach's career and the histories and theories of realist filmmaking. For the latter I have centred my research on work done from the 1920's onwards, and have decided to also consider theatre and television, as both of these have long histories of realism and Loach has also worked in these media.

As I began this work, I was unclear as to what I was looking, and indeed arguing, for. At that stage, it was my aim to try and establish the influences on, and the influence of, Kenneth Loach within the realist/naturalist field. However, as I came to putting the finishing touches to my conclusion, I came across an interview that has helped form my argument, even though the quote itself, from young American director Harmony Korine² concerning his early access to film and his identification of a continuum within cinema³, does not have any direct relevance to my subject matter. However, it has given me confidence to put across an argument suggesting that Ken Loach is part of such a continuum within realist traditions of film-making, being both the result of, and a point of departure for a continuing, Diaspora of realist cultural production.

A fucking revolution!"

"Then there was ‘Kes’, big in the business, but Ken Loach has always been a bit art-house and the public didn’t really see it"

"A director only makes one film in his life. Then he breaks it into pieces and makes it again"

- Jean Renoir

"It’s just another film"

Theory concerning the realist text weaves together artistry across many disciplines. A painting, a novel, a film, or a poem can all be regarded according to theories of the realist text, and like the variety in amongst its subject, realist theory is also manifold. However, as Christopher Williams points out, many of these arguments are tortuous and circular¹, such as the question, ‘does the real world actually exist?' relating to the philosophy of Bertrand Russell and Bishop George Berkeley, who stated that nothing exists independent of mind and ideas². In terms of film, realist theory regards narrative, editing, camera movement, dialogue and mise-en-scene.

In this opening chapter, I shall regard the theories of realism as defined, from different theoretical angles, by Linda Nochlin, Andre Bazin and Colin MacCabe. I will also consider the critiques of 'naturalism' supplied by Troy Kennedy Martin and John McGrath. I will also deal with these works, in relation to Loach, in chapter 4.

Linda Nochlin's theory on the nature of realism was centred around the history and style of European art but as "all forms of realism, regardless of time or place, are marked by the desire for verisimilitude of one kind or another"³, her ideas can easily be applied in film criticism. Nochlin's notion of realism concerned five key elements intrinsic to the realist work of art.

Firstly, a historical element, in that it refers outwards to people and places, presenting a recognisable context for something to exist and for action to take place, as Nochlin states, "The insistence on the connection between history and experienced fact is characteristic of the Realist outlook"⁴.

Secondly, a democratic element, in that it involves the voice of the 'ordinary person' or, if you will, the working classes. A contemporary element is also present. As well as regarding societal history, the realist text is relevant to a modern audience, dealing with issues that affect the modern social environment.

Further to this there is a truthful element, or at the very least an element that purports to 'tell the truth' about reality, as fantastical works can be true to social ideals. The issue of truth is moreover, like with Nochlin's views on the historical element, an issue of there being a recognisable context.

Finally, an empirical element is intrinsic. No realist text can be termed truly scientific⁵, but realism can have a science in its attitude toward nature and reality. Above all, though, and as above with the truthful element, it cannot stray into the 'fantastic' or the 'surreal'. Realism must be based on, almost exclusively, a priori truth.

Linda Nochlin's theory is universal, and takes a mainly historical view of the nature of the realist text, based around the idea that it desires verisimilitude. However she differentiates between the notion of film as ‘imitation of life’ and as a deliberately crafted version on reality. She notes that problems can arise out of the "different and sometimes diametrically opposed senses in which the term can be used"⁵.

While Nochlin takes a historical perspective, the theories of Andre Bazin, revered French film critic and major influence on French critics and directors such as Francois Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard, come from a more aesthetic standpoint, "cinema attains its fullness in being the art of the real"⁶.

Bazin's basic proclamation was that cinema was dependant on reality. Many different types of reality have been deliberated upon both in the field of film and elsewhere. Bazin attempted to clarify his position on cinema's core realism, "it is not certainly the realism of subject matter or realism of expression, but that realism of space without which moving pictures do not constitute cinema"⁷.

The noted German critic and writer, Siegfried Kracauer formulated a realist theory that dealt with the aesthetic of realistic content and technique. Bazin, however, moves beyond this to an aesthetic of space⁸. Cinema can be described as 'the art of the real' as it registers the spatiality of objects and the space they inhabit. Once entering a movie theatre, like a playhouse, or a football ground, audience members, on the whole, subscribe to the various conventions of the performance/audience spatial relationship. However theories of realism, such as Nochlin’s, do not take the spectator into full account.

A further theory of Bazin's takes this problem on board, discussing the cinema as it is experienced, what some might term, a psychological thesis of realism. This thesis mainly dealt with photography as being differentiated from painting, stating that photography made the artisan essentially obsolete,

Yet, surely a photograph would need creative intervention. Under this area of Bazin’s thesis, it would seem that the film director is also, therefore, just as obsolete as the photographer.

Bazin is claiming that we view cinematic reality as we would reality. This is not to say we regard it simply by virtue of how it looks, as it may appear on the surface as illusory, but due to the fact that it was recorded mechanically, and appears as an inhuman, yet engaging, documentation, but nevertheless it is a natural media. We are forced, as consumers of this media, to accept the documented image as reality, something that has, can and could exist in reality. Bazin, however, acknowledged that while realist discourses suppress certain truths, they could also produce others¹⁰.

Bazin, naturally, was not naïve, regarding the photochemical transference and the technology (man-made) that would be involved in such a process, in his work. His argument notes that the technology in question was invented so that celluloid could capture, preserve and make available for study, aspects of nature. Bazin preferred depth-of-field constructions within the lens, rather than the montage styles which, he felt, destroyed spacial reality (which he associated directly with perceptual reality). Depth-of-field refers to the long-take (sharp focus from lens to infinity), allowing the mise-en-scene to be constructed within each frame, rather than between them. Bazin felt that a realistic style of editing would be for an event to be allowed to develop within an integral space¹¹. Bazin claimed that these credentials were exhibited in the work of Flaherty, Stroheim and Murnau in the silent period, and subsequently by Renoir, the Italian neo-realist film-makers and, in America, Orson Welles and William Wyler, specifically the cameraman Gregg Toland, with whom both Welles and Wyler worked¹².

Bazin’s aestheticism is clear, whereas a more contemporary theorist, Colin MacCabe dealt more with the narrative and dialogue of film, pinpointing the existence of, and problems with, the ‘Classic Realist Text’.

Despite MacCabe's claim that his 1974 article, Realism And The Cinema, was not an attempt to construct a coherent theory from its foundation in the writings and theory of Bertolt Brecht, it has, nonetheless, played a major role in the subsequent study of the realist work.

MacCabe's broad approach takes on board, besides Brecht, the ideologies of Eisenstein, Freud and Lacan and can, in my view, be described as a post-Lacanian psychoanalytical work. He strives to associate 'realism' with the notion of the discourse hidden between the lines of the text, claiming the narrative hides these. Although from the outset, MacCabe acknowledges that an effective vocabulary for the discussion of 'realism' is decidedly absent.

In the 'classic realist text', MacCabe claimed that there was "a hierarchy amongst the discourses" in any film. These discourses are defined by an "empirical notion of truth", which implies two essential features of the 'classic realist text'. First, that "the classic realist text cannot deal with the real as contradictory", rather that it tries to impose a certain worldview within its prose i.e. that the messages and questions to arise from a film are clearly signposted by the director, or screenwriter. Second, that in a reciprocal movement, "the 'classic realist text' ensures the position of the subject in a relation of dominant specularity"¹³ based around a metalanguage that translates the relation of the object language of the world¹⁴. MacCabe seems to be saying that the truth is expressed from the visuals of the film, which takes a higher position than anything the audience might discover about characters, the choice of shot taking higher precedence to the edit, in his view of ‘classic realism’. The visual narrative telling us more about the characters than the characters themselves can¹⁶.

The metalanguage can face multi-interpretation reducing, as it does, object language via a detachment of form and content. MacCabe places this historically, with pre-Socratic western thought, and the recognition of the separation between what is said and the act of saying it. He takes issue with the notion that once we say that something that is considered meaningful, it is then of fixed meaning, due to its distribution in space and time, distorting the presence and paradigm of what is said.

MacCabe is also sceptical of 'naturalism', a term that is often used in preference to ‘realism’, believing that it is simply a synonym for 'realism' rather than indicative of an alternative style, during the course of his thesis. The notion of 'Naturalism', has been defined, in an article concerning Ken Loach, as having an unnerving directness taking us from "the discussion of art to the discussion of society, from discussions of characters in fiction to the discussion of people in real life"¹⁵. This use of a separate term would seem to support MacCabe's notion that realism is flawed and more than a by-product of the vocabulary problem.

To highlight his theory of the classic realist text, MacCabe looked at Alan J. Pakula's 1971 film, Klute, theorising the use of the character Bree (Jane Fonda)'s psychiatrist as an instrument of subjective discourse which runs throughout, but hardly parallel with the film's plot. The example MacCabe gives is of Bree referring to her future independence while wanting to settle down with John Klute (Donald Sutherland)¹⁶, and this is quite evident, but could this not be an isolated example? Isn't this an example of the real as contradictory, which MacCabe suggests a 'classic realist text' cannot deal with? Here we find a character that is speaking of a desire for a new life on her own terms while leaving with Klute to take on an entirely different life - aren’t these compromises indicative of contradiction within life? However, MacCabe might justify this by claiming that all contradictions presented on screen are resolved, leaving nothing for the audience to do or think about¹⁷.

MacCabe also offered a critique of Eisenstinian arguments concerning montage and representation. Eisenstein considered that 'representation' was the raw material of montage, 'the image' being what it produced. In realist terms then, there is a collaboration of forethought to produce, or perhaps, manipulate an image in the mind, and therefore 'reality' appears to be an afterthought to 'the image'. However, Eisenstein would seem to tell us that there is a fixed reality which is available to us from an objective point of view, (a single set-up) creating the opposite of montage, the 'affidavit exposition', to show reality as it really would be, rather than showing a variety of panorama. MacCabe disagreed that there could be this kind of 'non-partisan gaze', "There is no neutral place from which we can see the view and where all points are located. There is no possible language of 'affidavit-exposition' that would show a scene, as it really is "¹⁸.

MacCabe’s theory suggests that the ‘classic realist text’ offers a unified sense of closure so that the audience needn’t have to work out the contradictions presented in the films for themselves, and therefore, in offering an anti-Brechtian form of closure, are politically conservative¹⁹.

It seems that MacCabe, Nochlin and Bazin would agree that the notion of ‘montage’ can have no place within a truly realist aesthetic, otherwise their theories have little in common. However, Nochlin and Bazin’s theories are more optimistic for the possibility of realism despite Nochlin’s admittance that "Many of the most vociferous opponents of Realism based their attacks on these grounds: that it sacrificed a higher and more permanent for a lower, more mundane reality" ²⁰. It is certainly clear that a great deal of realist drama, certainly in the 1980’s and 1990’s have focused on poverty, unemployment and the working classes. It would appear therefore that these criticisms are based on ethics rather than style as these dramas are certainly consistent with the socially extensive or, as Nochlin would describe it, democratic project of realism.

This 'project', however, does appear to be split into the two camps of 'naturalism' and 'realism'. Whereas MacCabe reduces naturalism to realism in a critical manner, the essays written by Troy Kennedy Martin and John McGrath (co-writers of the Loach directed progressive-realist drama Diary Of A Young Man) in the mid-60's sought to promote the virtues of realist film-making over that of the naturalist style. Kennedy Martin's 'Nat's Go Home' stated that the camera should not be so focused on photographing dialogue and create it’s own grammar out of objectivity so as to counter the ‘one step removed’ feel and will become drama based on story rather than plot²¹. John McGrath added that while in the theatre, an actor visibly emoting, could induce similar feelings within the audience, it was more likely, on television, to make the viewer inclined to switch off. McGrath felt empathy could be achieved by merely following the narrative, and seeing what happens to the characters than by being forced to observe them emote strongly²². The two essays, seemingly ignored by MacCabe in his writings, suggested that naturalist drama, much like the virtue of realism, was obsolete.

The history of the realist text, classical or otherwise, has always had, at its core, a very distinct contradiction. The definition of 'realism' is to "regard things as they are"²³. However, it is clear that in all artistic fields, in any piece of work, there is an immense element of exclusion, and MacCabe touches on this in his work. Innovative filmmaker Jean Luc Godard argues that "Cinema is not the reflection of reality, but the reality of the reflection". His work made audiences reconsider their relationship with what they saw, using various method to communicate the deliberate fiction within his work, rather than enabling them to become involved with the characters²⁴. This would seem to support MacCabe’s claim that all contradictions in classic realism are resolved for us.

It could be argued, and this is far from a 'romantic' point of view, that the picture frame is but a static vision of one small area of reality. For example, the novel will only describe to a certain level of detail, the newspaper is relative to one particular day and the movie camera can only fit so much mise-en-scene into the one shot. The tracking and pan shots do not, generally, move in the same way the eyes, in reality, would do. Although the human eye, naturally, focuses on what is of subjective interest, and the camera while it tracks and pans from a general wide shot, centring on particular characters or objects, eliminating others out of the equation, follows this type of focus relating to interest. Through cutting and shot selection, film decides upon what we should watch. Art is selective, but this does not make 'realism' or 'the realist text' redundant, it just requires observing in different ways.

For the purposes of this chapter, I shall approach realist history on a global scale, referring to British, French and Italian film movements as well as notions of a politically motivated ‘Third Cinema’. I also intend to suggest that innovations within the theatre are also a link in the chain of the film movements. In chapter 4, I will attempt to place the work of, and establish the influences on, Loach with respect to these movements.

Within the remit of performance art, one’s initial feeling might be to discuss theatre and dance as well as the cinema. However, generally speaking, dance and movement is usually performed as a point of access to the fantastic. With regard to Ken Loach’s objectives with the cinema, I shall be referring mostly within politically motivated theatre and film, with some reference to appropriate television work.

Twentieth century British theatre has a tradition of realistic settings, dialogue and narrative. This could be said to originate in the 1920’s, a time of deep depression in Britain, when the Workers’ Theatre Movement endeavoured to uncover the reality beneath the polite surface of capitalist society, which previous naturalist plays were unable to uncover. The first English branch (movements had been active in Germany and Russia previously) of the WTM was set up in 1926 by Christina Walshe, after the collapse of the General Strike, with a general politic that was to the left of the Labour Party. The Movement’s critiques of Labour, however, conflicted with the anti-Fascist Popular Front movement, as a result of which the movement folded¹.

To enable the message of the WTM plays to reach the working masses that were unable to attend a particular theatre, a new style of theatre was evolved out of their socialist realism. Coined in Germany, the term ‘agit-prop’ refers to a theatre that requires no elaborate stage or scenery and little in the way of costume, what Richard Drain describes as "a propertyless theatre developed by a propertyless class"². The advantage of ‘agit-prop’ being its flexibility, directness and potential for topicality and the ease of audience access to characters (the theory being that a worker portraying a worker will be more convincing than a portrayal by a professional actor)³.

Similar movements were already in operation on the continent and elsewhere, such as in Germany, Japan and the Soviet Union, all of which were very politically and socially effective. In Germany, the value of the workers theatre was combated by Hitler’s regime, by being rendered practically illegal, although the plays were still performed. In the Soviet Union it played an instrumental part in the building of the socialist state, building on the ‘socialist realist’ cinema movement of the late 1920’s which was established at the behest of Stalin⁴. In Japan, the workers’ theatre was an integral part of proletarian culture, with 40,000 organised spectators⁵.

A more convincing attempt at documentary depiction of the nation state, however, could be found in Britain in the 1930’s, with the setting up of John Grierson’s pioneering documentary unit, as part of the Empire Marketing Board. Creator and polemicist, Grierson became interested in the cinema as being both as a point of mass connection and also as a medium of aesthetic concern. His work built on that of Robert Flaherty, whose real-life study "Nannook Of The North" (1924) is regarded as being the first of it’s type⁶. Documentary, like many other media, such as literary and journalistic writings, radio broadcasting and photojournalism, share an ethic of social documentation as a means of communication between the citizen and the state⁷. Many other documentary units were set up in its wake, such as the worker’s film movement. Grierson wrote, "the documentary film was an essentially British development. It’s characteristic was the idea of social use"⁸. Ian Dalrymple, head of the Crown Film Unit during the war, added "The movement sought to apply the complicated motion picture medium to the recording of life and human beings, their actions and even thoughts and motives - in their essence and integrity"⁹. This is not to say that the feature film did not have a similar usage.

During the War, at the behest of the government, feature films were encouraged to create scenarios to boost the national morale. This might suggest that escapism and fantasy prevailed during the war. Indeed, many films did pursue these themes, such as Time Flies (1944), A Matter Of Life And Death (1946) and a series of popular George Formby vehicles. However, it is felt by many that wartime enabled British cinema to discover its true calling, that of realism¹⁰. British critics of the time, in this case Roger Manvell, said "The great quality of British cinema, its independence and variety of style...contrasting strongly with the rubber stamp Hollywood entertainment"¹¹.

Major films during war-time to incorporate a realist aesthetic, were Millions Like Us (1943), In Which We Serve (1942) and Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s, Ministry Of Information financed, film 49th Parallel (1941). However, the underlying ethic was to provide a morale-boosting view of the free world (i.e. that which was not under the Reich) rather than to show the struggle of the working class, projecting a view of a ‘People’s War’ and national heroism. Nevertheless, filmmakers during the war saw Grierson’s documentary techniques and ethics entering the mainstream of British feature film¹². An example of which is Humphrey Jennings Fires Were Started (1943), in which Jennings used real firemen and real fires, burning in the blitzed warehouses of London’s dock areas, and employs "no romantic sub-plot or set-piece rivalries"¹³. Although other films released at a the time, such as The Bells Go Down (1943), painted a less heroic, more fallible and less exalted view of life during the war, Jennings certainly embodies a certain fidelity towards ‘reality’. Indeed, C.A. Lejeune, in the Observer, stated that "the best thing the war is likely to draw out of the cinema is not poetry but prose; no masterpiece but a number of small, candid snapshots of the soul of the people"¹⁴.

Italian cinema used a similar mechanism during the war, which in contrast to the hyperbole of soviet socialist realism, and the morale boosting bent of British war-time product, created a vision as to oppose their government. Rather than support a dictatorial regime, the neo-realist style, a term coined by scriptwriter, Antonio Pietrangeli¹⁵, reacted against the censorship of the fascist state, and the paternalism of the church¹⁶.

The fascist era in Italy created a cultural, political and emotional suspension being cut off from the influence of a wider Europe, which may have quelled Mussolini’s regime. Importation of foreign films was prohibited and while 722 feature films were made in Italy between 1930 and 1942, none were particularly significant¹⁷. Masolini D’Amico has said that "Censorship tended to be subterranean...much of what was forbidden was later to become distinctive of neo-realism"¹⁸.

The first film to make use of neo-realistic techniques was Luchino Visconti’s Ossessione (1942), appearing on screen only after heavy censorship. Visconti’s work has a base in the work of the French poetic realists as he served as an assistant to Jean Renoir before launching his own career.

French poetic realism stemmed from the power, in France, of the independent producer in the 1930’s after the collapse of Pathe and Gaumont. The movement has been seen, in retrospect, as a shadow to the rise and fall of the Popular Front, the left wing consolidated party that came to power in 1936. The optimism that greeted their promises of social reform reverberate through such films as Renoir’s Le Crime de M. Lange (1935) and La Vie est a nous (1936), while his pessimistic 1939 film La Regle du jeu depicts it’s demise. Poetic realism put a great deal of emphasis on mise-en-scene, owing to the influence of German expressionism, to create a recreated realism than the anthropological bent of the documentary form. There was also a great deal of emphasis on team-work (i.e. with the scriptwriter, lightning designer, musical composer et al)¹⁹.

Aside from Visconti, other major exponents of the neo-realist form were Roberto Rossellini²⁰, Guiseppe de Santis²¹ and Vittorio De Sica²², the latter’s most notable work being, arguably, the most famous neo-realist piece, Bicycle Thieves (1948). It is described as the only film that meets all three criteria that were set down for the neo-realist form. These principles were that the film should begin and end with the entering and leaving of everyday life. It should not use literary adaptations, but go for ‘the real’. Secondly, it should be aware of the reality of society, i.e. the poverty and unemployment in post-war Italy. Thirdly, to maintain this stronghold of virtual actuality, dialogue and narrative should be kept as natural as possible, keeping, where possible, to regional dialects. The use of non-professional actors and location shooting should predominate. A final criterion is for shooting to be documentary-esque, with little or no lighting effects and should involve the use of a hand-held camera²³. These techniques flourished in Italy from the war years until 1952, although some critics claim that neo-realist techniques are still alive for example, Ken Loach’s Poor Cow was cited by Italian director and writer Pier Paolo Pasolini as a clear indication that neo-realism had not, as some had claimed, died²⁴.

1952 also saw, in Britain, an end to rationing which began to conserve resources in wartime and, in the interim, Britain had seen off the threat of Fascism, as well as the formation of the Welfare State. It would seem to have been, therefore, a time for prosperity. However, works coming out of the theatre at this time were suggesting that this was not necessarily the case.

1956 saw the opening of the Royal Court theatre, which provided a forum, as it does to this day, for socially concerned work that acted as a critique of the status quo. The third play to be performed on it’s stage was, arguably, it’s most notorious, John Osborne’s Look Back In Anger.

Look Back In Anger saw Osborne placed in the media-labelled grouping, ‘the angry young men’. This group being an amalgam of playwrights and authors, such as Kingsley Amis, Colin Wilson and John Braine, who were expressing a disillusionment toward, amongst other things, Britain’s declining position in the world (e.g. the decline of the ‘British Empire’), as well as a return to depression. There was also a general sense of dissatisfaction with the Labour Party, due to the lack of any true social reform during their post-war period in government. Despite the recent formation of the welfare state, the Suez crisis and the Soviet crushing of the Hungarian revolt clearly showed that progress since the war was not as dramatic as some might have thought.

The following decade was a social hot-bed of sexual liberality, seen by many through the ‘England Swings’ renaissance epitomised by the rise of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones and the rise of an alleged ‘Americanisation’ of British, and indeed global, culture²⁵. It was this new-found liberality which we can perhaps thank for the toning down of censorship on both film and theatre, in particular the 1968 Theatre Act²⁶.

A further generic idiom was coined in the 1960’s, this time for the cinema. The 'British New Wave' was most famously represented by films such as Saturday Night And Sunday Morning (1960), The Loneliness Of The Long Distance Runner (1962), This Sporting Life (1963) and A Taste Of Honey (1961)²⁷.

These films came, arguably, as a result of the style and spirit of both the serious dramas produced by ABPC in the 1950's and the ‘Free Cinema’ movement²⁸. The distinguishing features of this new form, which was continued in the films of the ‘new wave’, were a particular commitment to ‘realism’, to broach relevant social issues in a style that was sincere²⁹. Free Cinema practitioners were able to work outside the mainstream framework, although they did require some help from it. For example, the films relied on the sponsorship of the Ford Motor Company and the British Film Institute Experimental Film Fund. Lindsay Anderson comments that "Free Cinema wasn’t part of an intellectual movement. If you’re trying to define it’s meaning in this country the key word is empirical". Nevertheless, Raymond Durgnat accused the movement of being "a kind of middle class left-wing sentimentality within the purlieus of the art cinema and film society"³⁰. Also, it was argued by Peter Wollen, that the tagging of these, as he calls them, ‘angry young men films’ as a ‘new wave’ was misleading. Wollen's interpretation of the term entails notions of the auteur and the championing of film over literature and theatre which, as most were adaptations of work from both mediums, was not the case³¹.

Television also began a period of realist dramas in the mid-60’s, such as Z Cars and ‘The Wednesday Play’. These two programmes helped to launch the career of one Kenneth Loach, who’s late sixties films Poor Cow and Kes were caught in the slipstream of the 60’s ‘new wave’, the latter being described as, probably the most important British film of the era³².

The spirit of the era that espoused the new wave and the Wednesday Play has continued on, but more sporadically, in television programmes such as Days Of Hope (1975), Boys From The Blackstuff (1982) , Our Friends In the North (1996) and Hillsborough (1997)³³ as well as the repertoire of writer/director Alan Clarke³⁴. One might also cite the satire boom³⁵ and the pioneering situation comedies, mainly Steptoe & Son, The Likely Lads³⁶ and Till Death Us Do Part, of the 1960's as emitting a similar spirit. Indeed, Steptoe… is said to have "dealt with an underclass previously seen on television only in realistic dramas such as Armchair Theatre…this imbued the series with a pathos and poignancy hitherto absent from the sitcom genre"³⁷.

Film wise, and giving some credence to David Robinson’s statement, quoted at the beginning of this segment, the realist drama in Britain has gone through a distinct renaissance in the 1990’s. Mainstream success, even within the Hollywood Academy, has befallen directors such as Mike Leigh, Peter Cattaneo and Mark Hermann³⁸. Also in this time, British documentarist Nick Broomfield has enjoyed both televisual and cinematic success (and notoriety) with his works such as "The Leader, The Driver And The Driver’s Wife" (1991) and his recent cinematic release "Kurt And Courtney" (1998)³⁹. British director Stephen Frears claims that "When you try to work out British films, you come back to the consistent attempt to give a vision of Britain"⁴⁰.

On a worldwide scale, a further movement, Third Cinema (also known as Third World Cinema) was given its name in 1969 by Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino⁴¹. Third Cinema refers mainly to the political side of film-making, actively promoting socialism within it’s remit, against the incursions of First World chauvanism⁴², yet it is still an open category, an experimental cinema that is used for research into human communications⁴³. However, when referred to as ‘Third World Cinema’ it refers, generally, to films made outside of the major industrial powers (i.e. ‘first cinema’ refers to films made within the Hollywood system and ‘second’ cinema referring to European art-house cinema)⁴⁴. Third Cinema theorist Teshome H. Gabriel notes that "The principal characteristic of Third Cinema is really not so much where it is made or even who makes it but, rather the ideology it espouses. The Third Cinema is that cinema of the Third World which stands opposed to imperialism and class oppression in all their ramifications and manifestations"⁴⁵.

It would appear therefore that ‘Third Cinema’ is a movement without a geographical base (for which the term ‘Third World cinema’ is more applicable) referring, moreover, to a socio-political agenda, which would seem to be encompass many contemporary directors all over the world. If reinterpreting the term 'Third Cinema' in such a way, one might think of directors such as Rainer Werner Fassbinder (specifically, his comments concerning how an audience should view his films)⁴⁶, Krzystztof Kieslowski⁴⁷, the non-mainstream work of Warren Beatty⁴⁸ and, indeed, Ken Loach. We should also, therefore, include in this reappraisal, the Scandinavian realist movement, Dogme '95⁴⁹.

To have the ‘Dogme ‘95’ seal presented at the start of a film requires that the director work within ten creative tenets⁵⁰ toward a distinctly realist ethic. Needless to say, there is leeway for directors to bend the rules, but they must make a formal confession⁵¹ available to those in the collective, upon which it's merit as a 'Dogme' film is decided.

So it would appear therefore, despite claims, such as those of David Robinson⁵², of their being a successful ‘tradition’ of realism in British culture, that we have to look beyond our shores for movements with the greatest fidelity to ‘realism’, in areas leaning, politically, to the left.

Struggle, tragedy and censorship, all of which might suggest that his potential remains unfulfilled, have surrounded the career of filmmaker Ken Loach. However, I think it is fair to say that Loach has ultimately given the world of cinema a distinct canon of work that is enjoyed and respected by peers, critics and audiences alike.

Loach was born in Nuneaton, on the 17th June 1936. His early childhood was lived out around the relocations demanded of his family by the onset of war. By the age of 25, he had completed two years of National Service in the Royal Air Force, going on to read law at St. Peter's Hall, Oxford¹. He then began an acting career in repertory, earning himself a role as understudy to Lance Perceval in the revue One Over The Eight².

In 1961, Loach received a sponsorship from ABC TV, to become an assistant director at the Northampton Repertory Theatre before, in 1963, joining the BBC as a trainee television director. His first undertaking was to direct Catherine in 1964 (which starred Tony Garnett who was to play a large part in Loach's career). He was then assigned to direct three episodes of the popular, gritty police series Z Cars.

Following this, he directed three episodes of the series Diary Of A Young Man using the experience as a "laboratory to see how you could disturb that very formal, traditional way of making and shooting TV drama in a studio"³. It is perhaps unsurprising then, that during his Nineties creative renaissance, he has taken to shooting entirely on location. It is interesting to note, however, that his approach to Diary… is quite the antithesis of 'naturalism', a term that is often applied to Loach's work, mainly thanks to the series being written by, the distinctly anti-naturalist, Troy Kennedy Martin.

It is subsequent to this time that a significant period in his career begins, with the start of his involvement with the BBC's 'Wednesday Play'⁴. Loach directed ten of these between 1965 and 1971, the most consequential being, undoubtedly Cathy Come Home, co-written by Loach and Jeremy Sandford. Regarding the issue of homelessness, Cathy… was latched onto by various political institutions upon transmission, and this eventually led to the advent of the charity, Shelter, something Loach refuses to take any credit for⁵. It has been argued that the four years Loach spent on the 'Wednesday Play's were the period in which he began to find his vision and voice. Cathy… was the first 'Wednesday Play' to escape the trappings of a studio set-up and, using genuine vox-pop interviews and statistics, was a ground-breaking piece of cinéma vérité-esque documentary fiction, which was to cause great debate over the very nature of television drama.

Also during this period, Loach had time to put his hand to the direction of his first feature film, Poor Cow (1967), although Loach now feels that his cinematic immaturity is evident in the piece⁶.

Troubled by his first foray into the cinematic world, Loach and Tony Garnett, with whom he had worked with on many of the Wednesday Plays set up Kestrel Productions to actualise some low-key independent work.

Their first film was Kes, which many acknowledge as a pivotal film in the late 60's period of British cinema. Like many films of the period, it is based on a novel (A Kestrel for A Knave) and was made on a very low budget of £157,000⁷. It concerns the story of a boy who, facing little or no prospects in life, finds a 'creative' avenue through his training of a bird. The issue of hope, destiny and struggle in working class communities that is intrinsic to Kes has become the benchmark of Loach's cinema, what some have called 'social-conscience realism'⁸.

Following the box-office success of Kes, Loach briefly returned to the 'Wednesday Play', re-inventing In Two Minds as a film, Family Life. However, this was commercially unsuccessful, which hit the Kestrel finances extremely hard. This failure has been blamed mainly on poor distribution⁹.

A further set-back occurred when a Loach-directed film made for LWT to explain the work of the Save The Children Fund was refused by the charity, with LWT distancing themselves from their financing of the film. Loach himself says "we'd been accustomed to battles at the BBC, but this was the first example of ruthless suppression we encountered"¹⁰.

To compound Loach's misery following these misfortunes, his mother-in-law and 5 year old son were tragically killed in a road accident that also left Loach and his wife seriously injured.

Taking an understandable break from directing for quite a long period of time, Loach returned in 1975 with Days Of Hope, a four-part television series looking at the British Labour movement between 1916 and 1926. Criticisms of this work were that it was too overtly didactic in its approach, a leader in the Times exclaiming that it was "avowedly partisan drama"¹¹. This criticism, though, had dogged Loach since the 'success' of Cathy Come Home, and has continued to do so since, largely due to the problems of the documentary-drama mode and the elements of bias that can be accused of directors within this field¹².

Due to the lack of commercial success with Family Life, Loach was finding it very difficult to find funding for his subsequent films, and so his direction of a film for children, Black Jack (1979), does seem, in retrospect, very out-of-place. After this Loach and Tony Garnett parted company, as Garnett tried to find work outside of England.

It was also at this point that Loach's career began it's extended 'low', tellingly coinciding with the election of the Conservative Party to government under the leadership of Margaret Thatcher, representing the antithesis of Loach's ideology.

A 3 million rise in unemployment, the crushing of the miner’s union strike, a significant cut in arts subsidy, as well as successful defence of the Falklands were seen during Thatcher’s first two term of office, by which time she had gained many enemies in the creative community. For instance, the Community theatre groups (such as those run by Ann Jellicoe), the avant-garde film work of Peter Greenaway and Derek Jarman, the poetry of Adrian Mitchell and the Red Wedge music and comedy tours¹³. Even the simple fence decoration of the Greenham Common women¹⁴ had a distinct message against Thatcherism.

This is not to say that Loach did nothing during Thatcher's eleven-year reign as Prime Minister, although it is fair to say that none of it, at least the work that was seen, approaches his best work¹⁵. To combat the prevalence of Thatcherism, Loach embarked on a series of documentaries, feeling the direct approach would be best.

His first foray into documentary was A Question Of Leadership put together for ITV's South Bank Show, but editor Melvyn Bragg stepped in and refused to authorise the broadcast. However, it was eventually shown on Channel 4, three months later, after the heat of Thatcher's overpowering of the steel strikers had subsided. Loach returned to these themes in his 1983 four-part Channel 4-commissioned Questions Of Leadership¹⁶, extending the themes of the original broadcast but concerning the miner's strike. Spending almost two years on the project, the final programmes were banned and, even today, cannot be exhibited.

Between 1983 and 1990, Loach's focus and confidence would appear to have wavered, in the face of his inability to find finance. Backers were afraid to put faith in a man notorious for making unbroadcastable material. However, in 1986, he did manage to direct the feature Fatherland, written by Trevor Griffith, his first foray into a working relationship with Film Four. It was this alliance that was to pay dividends in the future, and as the 80's came to a close, Loach renewed his partnership with Jim Allen¹⁷.

After years of, as Loach himself describes it, of "walking up and down Wardour Street, briefcase in hand, desperately seeking finance"¹⁸, he directed, in 1990, Allen's typically polemical screenplay film Hidden Agenda, which won Loach the Jury Prize at the Cannes Film Festival of that year¹⁹. Described by Tory MP, Ivor Stanbrook, as "the official IRA entry"²⁰, this tag proved worrying to exhibitors but, nevertheless, received critical acclaim and relative box-office success. The name 'Ken Loach' was now, again, synonymous with high-quality fiction rather than militant documentary, commercial failure and virtual financial bankruptcy.

Since 1990, Loach has made six very successful films, certainly at a critical level and virtually all have dealt with a 'social evil' as Loach might call it. His creative renaissance would seem to began with the working-class triumvirate of Riff-Raff (1991), Raining Stones (1993) and Ladybird Ladybird (1994)²¹. The latter film, based on a true story, was criticised by Carol Sarler in the Sunday Times for, as she alleged, that Loach had 'distorted the facts of the case' and "exploiting a families unhappiness"²² for his own end, an attack which particularly angered Loach²³.

His subsequent films have seen Loach travel to Spain and Nicaragua to pursue stories of social struggle with Land And Freedom and Carla’s Song respectively and have seen a return to working-class themes similar to his early 90’s work with My Name Is Joe²⁴.

Loach’s career has been subject to many fits and starts, but his reputation at the end of the Nineties, after a 35-year career, remains relatively intact²⁵. Certainly, the release in 1998 of My Name Is Joe has given rise to a distinct resurgence of interest in his work²⁶.

"It’s just boring and self-indulgent when directors go on about how they work and their cinematic style" - Ken Loach

In his on-stage interview at the National Film Theatre in October 1998, Ken Loach responded to praise for the love-scene in his latest film My Name Is Joe with the words, "I never watch"¹. This embarrassed retort, however, can also be taken as both indicative of Loach’s approach to direction, while also being the antithesis of his politics.

Ken Loach’s approach to direction is one that encourages improvisation from a script². As well as this, Loach’s other working methods include the use of provincial, unprofessional actors; the issuing of the script on a day-to-day (and need-to-know) basis; shooting strictly in sequence and allowing action and performance to develop rather than to be guided in a certain way.

These techniques, first and foremost, show a shared agenda, both politically and stylistically, with movements such as Italian neo-realism, Third Cinema and Dogme 95. They also, I feel, fit into an artistic pattern that began with the workers’ theatre movements of the 1920’s and 1930’s, based on the effectiveness of typecasting workers rather than relying on professional actors to perform a script through approximation, rather than lived experience. Loach’s most notable use of a non-professional actor was his casting of 14 year old David Bradley in the lead role of ‘Billy Casper’ in Kes. For a young boy with no acting experience³, his pursuit of the role is mesmerising⁴ and this is indicative of the ‘believability’ that Loach’s cinema encourages. However, in recent years Loach has taken to using mainly professional actors in the lead roles⁵.

Yet, a further example of Loach's use of persons experienced in a similar lifestyle to their character can be found in the casting for his most recent work, My Name Is Joe. The character of Scrag, a member of Joe’s football team (opponents of whom were chosen from the local community leagues), was played by Gordon McMurray, a resident of Glasgow with a history in the city’s drug underworld, and during one of the re-takes, intended to capture Scrag's reaction at being left behind by the rest of the team, he almost found himself arrested!⁶

Indeed, this scene came about as the element of surprise that Loach likes to apply during re-takes. In his 1991 film Riff-Raff (for which, Loach required that the actors should have had, at some point in their life, experience of the building trade), the character of Larry (Ricky Tomlinson) decides to take a bath in the show-flat. He performed three takes of his getting into the bath, with a technician coming in after each to say "we’re going for another one", the fourth time he is, literally, surprised by three young Arab ladies.

Loach likes to capture genuine reactions, and his issuing of the script gradually also allows this to happen. Believing that extensive rehearsal makes actors used to what they are about to hear, he claims that

Loach has also, aside from casting ‘real people', made use of the sagacity of people experiencing lives similar to those in the plot, in the attempt to be factually correct in the representation he gives. For example, social workers and ex-members of the P.O.U.M. militia were on hand for the filming of Ladybird Ladybird and Land And Freedom respectively.

Also, although sticking on the whole to the written script, Loach does give his actors space to put the written words into the own vernacular and, in some cases, his scriptwriters are on hand to add scenes inspired by events happening around set. An example of the former in My Name Is Joe is where Paul Laverty’s written script suggests that Joe headbutts one of drug-dealer McGowan’s henchmen for saying "He (Liam) can play in goal till he gets his plasters aff" ⁸. In the final cut of the film, he attacks him for making threatening remarks about Sarah. Louise Goodall, who plays Sarah, comments "It’s great not being tied down to the script, you can put as much of yourself as possible into your performance, which creates a really relaxed atmosphere. Paul (Laverty) isn’t precious about his script, he’s happy to let the actors put it into their own words, something that Ken encourages"⁹.

The location of each film is certainly important, and this effects the eventual end product. For example, while Loach and writer Jim Allen discussed the Raining Stones project on what was to be the actual location of the film, they were interrupted by a load, raging argument between two teenagers concerning getting hold of money for drugs. Loach said "that has to go in the film", and Allen wrote it in that evening, and ended up in the final cut of the film, shot in the same square in which the real event took place¹⁰.

With the Italian neo-realist, French New Wave and Third Cinema movements, as well as the worker’s theatre movements, Loach, as I have stated, also shares a political agenda. The socialism of these movements is clear in combating both a fascist state, in the case of the neo-realists, or oppressive dominant forms of cinema, in the case of the exponents of Third cinema. However it might be said that Loach, by the very fact that he is part of the European art-house elite, by continental popularity, if not by choice, remains outside the boundaries of Third Cinema. Indeed, for Solanas and Getino, Loach would be a distinct example of European second cinema. Yet if we consider the shared politics which Loach and practitioners within Third Cinema, as well as Teshome H. Gabriel's comments that Third cinema’s prime characteristic is the ideology it espouses rather than the geography of the film-maker, we surely can see that Third Cinema can now be defined as something existing both as part of and evolving separately from, Third World Cinema. It is, therefore, very much part of the same cultural history of social-humanism and ideologies of the left, which can easily include filmmakers as diverse as Kieslowski, Fassbinder and Beatty as well as Loach.

The origin of Loach’s politics can be found in creative collaborations, specifically his initial working relationships within the BBC in the 1960’s, such as with long-time associate Tony Garnett and, subsequently, writers such as Barry Hines, Trevor Griffiths and Jim Allen.

His subsequent work has seen these political undertones rising more and more to the surface, although, when interviewed on Radio 4’s Start The Week, he admitted that his latest film (My Name Is Joe), was his least political feature to date. Yet this is far from indicative of a softening within his outlook as has also recently made short films for the 'Support Clause 4' group¹¹ and Arthur Scargill’s Socialist Labour Party, as well as being dropped from a Labour Party CD-ROM for criticising the Blairite regime¹².

With his and Garnett's 60's work, Loach reacted against the lack of real social change under the Labour government of the day, as was the case with the 'angry young men', in literature and the theatre, during the previous decade. Indeed, ‘The Wednesday Play’ series that Loach was involved in during the 1960’s could be described as a Royal Court Theatre for the living room having a similar focus to the ‘angry young men’ of the previous decade.

However the ‘Wednesday Play’ work, especially that directed by Loach, can also be seen to act as riposte to the 1961 Conservative claim that Britains "had never had it so good" and that not all of the country were enjoying the benefits of post-war aflluence¹³. With the theatre movements I have discussed as well as the working practises they have inspired in the Free Cinema, the new wave and Humphrey Jennings' wartime films, Loach clearly shares a political ideology, as well as a distinct fidelity to portraying life as it is lived. Indeed, virtually all the non-British movements that I discussed in the second chapter also share these facets, although Loach would recoil at the Soviet socialist’ attempts to present an idealistic ‘realism’ that acts as a propaganda tool for a dictatorial regime.

Like the neo-realists in the 1940's, Loach has used his work, to sympathetically portray the struggle of the working classes. This can be seen, in both cases, as an attempt to attack ghosts of the past and, in doing so, seeking to prevent their reoccurrence. For the neo-realists the ghost is clearly Mussolini's fascist regime, while for Loach in his 90's films, it is Thatcherism. Indeed, from Andre Bazin's study of Bicycle Thieves, we can clearly see the influence of the neo-realist form on Loach's material.

Vittorio De Sica took a great deal of time and care, indeed hesitated for months and going through over a hundred screen tests, over the casting of Bicycle Thieves. He selected his actors who upheld certain attributes, selecting in the end someone he saw in the distance on the street. Bazin claims there is nothing particularly overwhelming in this decision, saying

Bazin suggests that not only is the film an example of the disappearance of the actor and of mise-en-scene but also of the conventional stories usually found in the cinema. He identifies the Italian cinema of the period as a cinema that encouraged working against the "imperatives of the spectacular". This may explain why De Sica could not find backing for the film, although one producer agreed to put up the money on the understanding that Cary Grant would play the lead!¹⁵

Clearly, Loach's working methods tie in with those of De Sica and also, therefore, Nochlin's identified components of the realist work. As we have discussed, Loach has felt able to take care in choosing his actors, seeing over 150 people for the lead role of Maggie in Ladybird Ladybird, with a view to casting a woman with a similar background to the character¹⁶. He is also, perhaps to the expense of crossing over to the mainstream, insistent on the use of authentic regional accents in the pursuit of "establishing absolute authenticity"¹⁷. He stresses this genuineness by working towards a position where his actors understand each other and their shared fictional context. This is achieved by working out family plans and encouraging actors to socialise in a manner similar to that which their characters might, so as to make their on-screen relationships even more believable¹⁸.

Therefore their voices may echo democratically in a recognisable context to the audience maintaining a truthful and empirical relevance to modern society, which may not always ring true in contemporary British film. Indeed, a key speech in My Name Is Joe (at least one can be found in each of Loach's films¹⁹) reads "Ah don’t live in a tidy wee world like you...we cannae go tae the polis...get a loan...change houses and fuck aff...every fuckin’ choice stinks round here"²⁰. This appears to be a distinct riposte to the opening salvo²¹ in the successful 1995 film Trainspotting, saying that life in the drug culture of Glasgow (where both films are set) leaves absolutely no choices at all for those involved²².

All of Loach’s films have a distinct working class bent and, more often than not, have focused on life in the North of England. The only principal protagonist with any social authority in his films is Kerrigan (Brian Cox) in Hidden Agenda {1990}. Nevertheless, this film still acts as an anti-government piece, reacting to the British shoot-to-kill policy in Northern Ireland, and dirty tricks campaigning by the Conservative Party²³. His other films have dealt with unemployment and trade union rights (Riff-Raff) and loan-sharking (Raining Stones) as well as, on a global scale, the division in the left during the Spanish Civil War (Land And Freedom) and the Sandinista revolution in Nicaragua (Carla’s Song).

In attempt to represent the working-classes in an appropriate way, costume plays an important factor in Loach’s work. Costume designer for My Name Is Joe, Rhona Russell states that "Loach’s films are very research based. You search out the reality for each character and situation, finding out how much money they have. When the reality is a cliché, like glitzy gold jewellery, the latest sports gear, we don’t use it"²⁴. This attitude to clothing, and other aspects of mise-en-scene have been essential in the history of realist film for, as Nochlin suggests, a recognisable context is intrinsic to the realist work of fiction to allow an adequate voice for those usually denied it.

A good example of this might be Loach’s several reprisals of the idea of the round-table discussion, which was the centre of his documentary Which Side Are You On? and also reappears in Riff-Raff, as Larry (Ricky Tomlinson) berates the Thatcherite regime in the builder’s canteen, and also in Land And Freedom, as the various members of the POUM debate land reform, while a similar style of documentary-esque discussion is seen in the club scenes of his 1965 TV work Up The Junction. It is also interesting to note that this type of discussion is the centrepiece of Karel Reisz’ Free Cinema work We Are The Lambeth Boys, as the members of the youth club sit around debating the merits of hanging.

We should also note the use of song in his films as a point of common contact amongst the type of people he depicts. For instance, in Land And Freedom, we watch an emotional post-battle scene, when the 'united nations' within the P.O.U.M. all sing The Internationale together, while the central plot of Fatherland concerns an East German songwriter whose anti-government lyrics land him in exile. In his British-set working-class dramas, we have seen a similar predilection toward the foregrounding of music, with Ladybird Ladybird's opening scenes taking place at a Karaoke evening, during which the main characters meet. In Riff-Raff, the only glimmer of hope in the life of Susan (Emer McCourt) is the possibility of a singing career. We observe the painful moments when she performs (singing in a pub and auditioning for a stage role) and is rejected by her. Likewise, in My Name Is Joe, music acts as a central motif communicating the basis and frailties of Joe's relationship with Sarah. This is shown by her surprise at Joe's appreciation of Beethoven's Violin Concerto in D Major.

Despite these common themes, Loach would disagree with the notion that he is an auteur, stressing the collaboration with writers, directors of photography, lighting directors and his actors. Yet he certainly brings something of himself to his films as his passion for football has appeared twice as his take on the ‘opiate of the masses’. Firstly, in Kes, with Brian Glover taking on the role as the over-bearing PE teacher, as well as underpinning the romance and drug/poverty narratives in My Name Is Joe.

Indeed, a triumphant score heralds the Brian Glover character's first appearance, as he warms up wearing a bright red tracksuit, acting as a beacon punctuating the gloom of late 60’s industrial Barnsley. This dramatic colour contrast symbolises his authority of the boys, and is indicative of the lack of hope they have, which is later indicated by the apathy of the boys as they line up for careers advice. The only symbol of any hope is found in Billy’s kestrel-rearing hobby and the interest shown in this by his tutor (Colin Welland), before this is wiped out at the climax of the film with the death of ‘Kes’. Indeed, these scenes were filmed, essentially, as a reaction to nation-wide debate on how secondary education should be organised²⁵.

This film also makes it very clear that Loach is very keen on using deep focus allowing, as Bazin’s theory suggests, a mise-en-scene to develop within the frame. For example, during Kes, while the PE teacher takes our attention, we see Billy Casper, far in the background, leaning idly against the goalpost. This shows his resignation to failing within the moment of his life at hand and this adds to the metaphor of hopelessness experienced by all school-leaving children.

While Bazin’s theory promotes Loach’s methods of working, his genre comes into question within the realms of MacCabe’s thesis. It would appear, though, that on the whole, Loach’s films, perhaps with the exception of Raining Stones, do leave questions hanging as to what happens to the characters next, as his films do usually end with a monumental life-changing experience for, usually, the main protagonist. For instance, at the end of My Name Is Joe, we are left to wonder whether Joe’s violent outburst on McGowan could not be repeated on a loved one, such as Sarah, if indeed they were back together as his violence precedes his return to booze. MacCabe’s theory does not take into full account the very Brechtian-esque questions that audiences can ask of themselves and of the characters at the end of realist films, even if the question be, was it a genuine portrayal of reality, or biased by a political perspective.

This embitterment between factions of the left in Spain, as shown in Land And Freedom, also seems to represent the type of contradiction that MacCabe believed was impossible. Betrayals amongst those in the left still continue as long as socialism is only a dream in a capitalist state and, after all, the film uses it’s historical narrative to indicate the parallel with more contemporary issues such as Thatcherism and the miner’s strike. This is emphasised with the narrative being wrapped around letters sent by David to his girlfriend while fighting in the revolution, which are read by his grand-daughter at his funeral.

Land And Freedom, indeed virtually all of his subsequent films, have seen Loach return to the themes of hopelessness I have highlighted as being seen in Kes. In one scene in Land And Freedom, where two factions of the left are standing off against each other on balconies across a street, we see the character of David (Ian Hart) establish a geographical rapport with a member of their opposition. Seconds later, he watches them blown up by a grenade thrown by one of his battle comrades. David says, just before this, "Why aren’t you over here with us?", the soldier from Manchester repeats the question, to which David replies "I don’t know" . Their lack of hope is symbolised by division, and lack of total comradeship, within the anti-Franco left.

Loach's embracing of struggles in the lower-classes and on the left-wing, and specifically the use of documentary-drama techniques in telling these stories, has been the source of practically all criticisms offered of his work, such as those of Ivor Stanbrook, Carol Sarler²⁶ and Wyndham Goldie²⁷.

I think it is fair to say that accusations of bias do have some grounding as, with his films, Loach clearly has a political agenda. I would also argue that, in each of films, he appears to have, or have been given, a ‘voice’ through one of the characters, be this voice political or otherwise. In Riff-Raff, this would appear to be Larry (Ricky Tomlinson), as he encourages his colleagues to join the union movement. In his 1994 film Ladybird Ladybird, this role appears to be taken by Jorge (Vladimir Vega), with his sober approach to the social workers that try to take away their children. Aside from this Jorge also has a history of being exiled from his home country for his anarchic poetry, which is of course the same fate suffered by Klaus (Gerulf Pannach) in Fatherland. In Land And Freedom, however, due to Loach’s historical approach, I believe the granddaughter of David embody Loach's (and indeed that of writer Jim Allen) voice. This is particularly the case as we watch her actions at his funeral, indicating Loach’s approach to the uncovering of history, and the willingness to follow through the traditions of the struggle, and the notion of a solidarity transcending generations. This solidarity is probably best summed up by a line from the beginning of the film, as we see the Spanish recruitment officer encourage British participation in the civil war with the words "make our fight your fight". Indeed, this statement is indicative of Loach’s cinema as a whole.

Loach's comments concerning the camera, as used in his films, acting as a sympathetic observer²⁸ emphasise the fact that from the Wednesday Play era to the present day, he has chosen his projects relatively carefully so that he may try to educate as well as entertain, using fiction to get at the truths often ignored by the legitimate news programmes.

His political agenda has underpinned all of his work, with the exception of, perhaps, of his first production for the BBC, Catherine. However, it was on the set of his directorial debut that he met Tony Garnett, whom Loach credits as being at the centre of the circle that politicised him during the 1960’s.

It was also at this time that Loach's directorial style started to come into place and his techniques and politics have worked hand-in-hand in building a very distinctive body of work over four decades. However, despite the fact that Raymond Williams argues that "Naturalism has close historical associations with socialism. As a movement and as a method it was concerned to show that people are inseparable from their real social and physical environments"², I feel Loach's work fits more into the context of progressive realism, as identified by Troy Kennedy Martin and John McGrath in the mid-60's, although naturalistic acting appears to be encouraged.

Loach collaborated with both Kennedy Martin and McGrath in the 60's, what some may describe as the 'formative stage of his career', and I feel the influence of the 'Nat's Go Home' and 'TV Drama: The Case Against Naturalism' still echoes in his more recent work. For example Loach shoots, and keeps his crew, as far away as possible from the action taking place so as not to constrict his actors. Producer Rebecca O’Brien jokes that "in an ideal world Ken would prefer to have nobody present while a film is being made and for the actors just to live it"³. This, of course, is a distinct parallel to Bazin's conclusion on the purity of Bicycle Thieves, "No more actors, no more story, no more sets, which is to say that in the perfect aesthetic illusion of reality there is no more cinema"⁴.

Loach embraces neither notions of being a realist or naturalist film director, as he does not wish for his films to be dictated by a particular label⁵. However, I feel that Loach's work upholds the formulations of the realist text as identified by Linda Nochlin and certainly incorporates camera techniques such deep-focus, as Bazin identified as sustaining an essential spatial realism. Loach's work can also act as criticism for MacCabe's unsatisfactory notion of the 'classic realist text'. MacCabe suggests that realist work fits into a set pattern that can only be politically conservative, yet Loach's films, especially Cathy Come Home, Raining Stones and Ladybird Ladybird do not provide resolutions at their climax, making it clear that just to "watch and see" is not enough⁶.

In attempting to show social truths in this way, Loach continues distinct trends in British film and theatre. The Workers’ Theatre movements of the 1920’s and 30’s required the use of non-professional actors for added authenticity. I also feel that Loach predilection for location shooting finds it basis, not only in the ethics of the Italian neo-realist movement, but also from the days when Workers' plays were performed without staging, i.e. wherever a massed group of workers could be assembled to view the work.

It therefore seems clear that over the course of this century, a distinct continuum of realist cultural production has spread, not only within British culture but within a world-wide Diaspora best epitomised by the ethics and directorial styles of neo-realist, Third Cinema, French New Wave and Dogme 95 movements. The latter being a contemporary movement seemingly influenced by Bazin, neo-realism and the French New Wave. With the credence given to these movements in mainland Europe, it is perhaps no surprise that Loach's film are extremely popular, winning him several awards at Cannes, Berlin, Leipzig and Venice Film Festivals⁷.

In terms of UK product, we can also see that the realist theatre and film movements that have been discussed may not all be directly be attributable to previous movements or indeed these being an influence upon all those subsequent. Yet it seems clear that the documentary work of John Grierson as well as the Free Cinema filmmakers; the sense of community delivered in war-time realist work; the social polemic of the Workers' Theatre Movements and indeed the 'angry young men' of the 1950's; the claustrophobic kitchen-sink dramas of the following decade and the ground-breaking dramas and situation comedies presented on television since the mid-60's as well as the social-humanism of Ken Loach's entire canon are all based in a distinct ethic of portraying events, situations and people from the lower-classes in an adequately true-to-life, and sympathetic, manner.

Loach would also appear to be a small part of, if not indeed an influence upon (along with Alan Clarke and Mike Leigh⁸) the contemporary renaissance of British 'working-class' feature films such as Nil By Mouth (Gary Oldman, 1997), The Full Monty (Peter Catanneo, 1997), Brassed Off (Mark Herman, 1996) and The Girl With Brains In Her Feet (Roberto Bangura, 1998).

With Loach's work, like any cultural product, there can, of course, be no pretence to actual reality. As soon as a character is named, a scripted word is spoken or a camera shot is chosen, reality ceases to exist. What becomes important therefore is the keeping of a fidelity to how life is really lived in the lower classes. Consequently, to my mind, Loach's films not only continue traditions of humanism, aesthetics and left-wing polemic from British, European and Third World realist cultures but also act as an influence and springboard for further diffusion of these practices⁹.

While Andre Bazin claims that "in the perfect aesthetic illusion of reality there is no more cinema"¹⁰, it would appear from Ken Loach's working methods, and indeed his politics, that he would further suggest that 'there is no more director'.

² - Raymond Williams, The Politics Of Modernism: Against The New Conformists, p.113

³ - BBC, The Late Show: Loach On Location

⁴ - Andre Bazin, What Is Cinema? II, p.60

⁵ - Geoffrey MacNab, Ladybird Ladybird: The Writer: The Director', Sight And Sound NS 4:11, p.14

⁶ - Deborah Knight, 'Naturalism, Narration And Critical Perspective: Ken Loach And The Experimental Method', in George McKnight (Ed.) (1997), Agent Of Challenge And Defiance: The Films Of Ken Loach, p.70

⁷ - Internet Movie Database, 'Awards Information for Kenneth Loach', us.imdb.com/Pawards?Loach,+Kenneth

Bibliography

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Madeline Mason;

Lucy Noakes;

Film Four Distributors;

Harbour Lights Cinema (R.I.P.);

The National Film Theatre;

and all at the British Film Institute Resource Room

  also thanks to

Dad, for being able to say, ‘actually, that’s rubbish!’;

Mum, Nan and Catherine, for their love and support;

Peter De Lara;

Sue Harper, Tony Dunn, Barry Smart, Peter Thompson, Fan Carter - so, it does all add up;

Gavin Esler at BBC News 24;

Holly, Abbie, Milling, Buff, Leon, Amy, Nev, Mike and everyone else who will know who they are;

Davia Bailey;

and, naturally, Ken Loach, for being a constant source of inspiration.