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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
The Tales of Michael Powell, 15 May 2008
Million Dollar Movie is the second and final part of Michael Powell's autobiography. The book was written during the late seventies and the entirety of the eighties. Given the length of both volumes its understandable that it took him so long. Volume I (A Life In Movies) was an absolute delight. It was a proper biography - one written at the right time - full of humour, rich word play and numerous surprises. That book covered the time period 1905-1948, and that's pretty much fifty years and the halfway point of his career. Anyone with an idea of his career will be acutely aware that Powells career took a nose dive after Peeping Tom (1960). So, one problem I had when picking up Volume II was the worry that I'd lose interest after 1960. This wasn't to be because the sixties were a fraught and exciting decade for Powell. Yet, the sense of closure is marked strongly by Powell in his remarks about completing Age of Consent (1969).
In introducing the book in a manner similar to the narrator in A Matter of Life and Death (1946). The year is 1949 and Powell and Emeric Pressburger are at the peak of their success. The Red Shoes (1948) has become a monster worldwide hit (except in the UK). They've received accolades for their risk taking vanguard attitude and Hollywood is knocking at the door. Unfortunately they make a bit of a mess of it. The fifties work is at best disappointing in comparison to their forties productions, the pair are clashing over the work, and Pressburger will never write another original screenplay for the Archers again.
Powell is a master storyteller. That's what this is, he has weaved together a book that plays like a film, or the ultimate behind the scenes documentary (although that word is rarely used in consideration of Powell). While it lasts the book is a convincing and sympathetic read or a great man with an appetite for life (although not sport), who really made the most of what the film industry gave him. He worked with many of the best in the British Film Industry, some colourful characters, travelled the world and met numerous cinema luminaries. You'll grow to love all the 'characters' of Powells book even John Davis and David O Sleznick.
However, it does play like a movie inasmuch as it plays like fiction. One can see why Powell would take liberties with his own past. It was his life so why not tell it his way? The characterisation is so OTT and the situations so overcome with pathos that you are sometimes wondering how much he is remembering events as he would have liked them to be than actually were. Many of the stars that worked with Powell have questioned the content, Katherine Byron for one. Andrew MacDonald's book 'Emeric Pressburger: The Life and Death of a Screen Writer' has a great deal of criticisms for Powells text. Really, that is what is sorely missing from Powells book: Pressburger. Of course, that's not to say Powell claims all the credit. Pressburger is written in a favourable light. He is located almost as Powell's mentor or the wiser of the two.
In a humorous and warm section Powell recalls a phone conversation with Pressburger about the script for They're A Weird Mob (1966) on page 468:
A chuckle. Then: "There is no story, Michael"
"Isn't there?"
"Oh, Michael, Michael ... How many times have I told you that a film is not words. It is thoughts, and feelings, surprises, suspense, accident"
MacDonald's book though delves into the story behind Pressburger's life. Powell was always the more vocal of the two and one gets the sense that they were both happy with it that way. Yet, it has caused many to under-appreciate the contribution of Pressburger.
Beyond this matter the biggest problem with the book is its inferiority to Volume I. A Life In Movies was an in-depth and through account of Powells life, his opinions of his work and the production process. On any of his films, we were treated to the reasons for making a film, who was in it, who he wanted in it, and who he worked with. Then we learned about the production itself and the commercial release. He then gave a list of reasons as to what he was happy with or unhappy about. It was an exhilarating read because of this. The lack of formal chapters made it even harder to put the book down. Sadly Volume II pales in comparison because its lack of depth. I cite Powells illness - he was suffering with cancer throughout the eighties - and it really shows in the manner that the detail washes away somewhere in the late fifties. It is as if much of the early sections were drafted and carefully reworked. Yet as he grew older and sicker, he was more concerned with getting a first draft than getting it right. Powell must have felt under awful pressure to finish, rather than have it stop abruptly.
Inevitably it does end in a abrupt fashion. He chooses Pressburgers death as a closing device by producing a fictional last meeting. I won't spoil the details. Powell has been forced sacrifice detail for overall structure. True, the years after 1969 are low for him and are without much work, and the breezy run through makes it pass by in an enjoyable fashion. It is the late fifties work that suffers badly. Peeping Tom had, for me, been a section I had looked forward to. I had been excited and looking forward to Powells thoughts on all aspects of the production. All we get are a few pages about development and around a page on the filming. His emphasis is that it was quick and fun to do. Ok, I take his illness into consideration, and I'm grateful for every word, but at that point in the book, I was filled with reluctance to continue reading. It was as if the bar of quality and expectation had been lowered. What had up to that point been a book with more detail than I could comprehend was now sorely lacking.
I shouldn't dwell on this issue, as overall Volume II is a fabulous continuation of the superb Volume I. The sections on Gone To Earth (1950) and Tales of Hoffman (1951) are fascinating and illuminating accounts of filmmaking with the stars. If you've read Volume I would recommend this or MacDonald's Pressburger book. While I have been negative about much of this book, it is still one that I enjoyed and deserves to be read to the end. Just remember take his hyperbolic enthusiasm for Martin Scoresse with a pinch of salt!
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