Tony Barta (editor),
Screening the Past: Film and the Representation of History.

Westport Ct: Praeger. 1998
ISBN 0-275-95402-1
279pp
$59.95(hb)

Uploaded 1 July 1999

The essays in Tony Barta’s collection focus on the relationship between film and history – on the ‘many ways in which the past is “screened” ‘; an attempt to ‘integrate the academic culture of historians….with the media realities of contemporary historical understanding’. As the editor notes in his introduction, most historians are far less dismissive of history on film than they once were. Many indeed have already come to terms with the moving image as an agent of historical knowledge. And here one must acknowledge the pioneering work of Pierre Sorlin, Marc Ferro and the the other pathfinders who persuaded the academic community to take film seriously. It would seem that much of the profession now accepts that the film maker can re-construct the past in a more complete manner than any academic working through the printed word and, in the process, reaching a far greater audience. Inevitably this raises serious concern for historians (too many) still schooled into a limited view of what history ‘is’ and how it should be presented. It may well be that this stimulating collection of essays will help ease the conscience of our still doubtful colleagues as to the value and purpose of film.

Many of the essays presented here attempt to demonstrate exactly what we can learn about the past (and the present) from popular cinema and focus on a rich variety of subject matter; from ‘screen Nazis’ (Tony Barta) to ‘smart Jews’ (Sanda L. Gilman), and from explorations of film and television (Pierre Sorlin/ Ina Bertrand) to the ‘Melodramatic imagination and Pearl Harbour’ (Geoff Mayer), as well as more theoretical pieces. It is, of course, invidious to comment upon just a few of the essays in the collection but I found the pieces by Daniel Walkowitz, Tony Barta, Sue Harper and Ina Bertrand of particular interest.

Given that the media is rapidly becoming ‘the’ agent of historical knowledge, the stimulating and highly-relevant discussion by Daniel J. Walkowitz (‘Re-screening the past: subversion narratives and the politics of history’) serves to introduce and explore some of the problems of the marginalising of academia as the source of historical knowledge. ‘Fight back’, suggests the author and, in his pragmatic guidlelines, argues that historians must come out of the academic closet, so to speak, and enter the arena of popular history: ‘We must become the filmmaker historian(s)’, he urges, ‘become story-tellers again’ – ‘We should write accessible, engaging stories’. Walkowitz is so right here, for so much recent historical writing is jargon-laden and convoluted that it is unreadable by the general public and finds an audience only among a small group of fellow initiates. Little wonder, then, that the historically-minded public turn to Ken Burns, Oliver Stone or the History Channel! One or two of the contributors to this volume might well take note of Walkowitz’s comments on ‘readability’.

Sue Harper’s ‘The scent of distant blood’, is a lively examination of how Hammer Films, the masters of Gothic horror developed a new and exploitative variation of the costume drama. Apart from its obvious interest as a fascinating piece of cinema history, the essay serves to draw attention to another (and highly successful) attempt by the film industry to plunder the past for profit. Equally, Tony Barta’s readable ‘Film Nazis: the great escape’ offers some interesting variations on a somewhat well-known theme. One should equally praise Brian McFarlane for his ‘Losing the peace: some British films of post-war adjustment’ – a timely reminder that Vietnam wasn’t the only war that created a veteran problem – Colin McArthur’s essay on the ‘Braveheart’ phenomenon, and Stan Jones’ ‘Marcel Ophuls’ November days : The forming and performing of documentary history’.

But if some scholars are still unsure where to locate film in the scheme of things, where on earth do they place ‘the presence’ in the corner – television? Among those who have taken on this complex form, there is a tendency to treat the box as a minor version of the big screen, but is this really satisfactory? Isn’t television, perhaps, a discrete form that requires its own particularised form of analysis? Some academics would argue that is does, but it is a problem that needs to be faced and resolved sooner rather than later.

Television has long been a major source of historical knowledge, not only through the seemingly endless supply of documentaries and pop-history magazines, but through historical mini-series, serials and specially commissioned television films (and let’s remember here that British Channel 4 was largely responsible for producing The Mmadness of King George, Mrs Brown and Elizabeth). Ina Bertrand’s essay, ‘Borders and boundaries: history and television in a post-modern world’ and the ‘distant conversation between Pierre Sorlin and Tony Barta address some of these issues. Hopefully they will spark further work in this important but still relatively neglected area.

Overall, Screening the Past is a useful and stimulating collection that should find a wide readership. My main reservation is that the book is only available in hardback. Let’s hope Praeger will soon issue a modestly priced softback that will suit the student pocket.