A Canterbury Tale (1944)
Directed by Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger

Film Review

Geoffrey Chaucer's 14th Century work The Canterbury Tales was the inspiration for this lyrical wartime drama from the celebrated independent filmmaking duo Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, a.k.a. The Archers. Like many of their productions, the film has a distinct propagandist slant, and it's not difficult to see that this one is intended to help cement Anglo-American relations by showing England in the most favourable light.  As it turned out, this particular bolt from the well-meaning Archers' bow arrived somewhat late in the day - the film was released two months after the Normandy Invasion in 1944.

If it were just a propaganda film, A Canterbury Tale would probably have been long forgotten, of interest only to a handful of film historians.  The mere fact that it was Powell-Pressburger production ensured that there was far more to it than that.  The film is a beautifully evocative (albeit idealised) portrait of everyday life in England during the war, a multi-layered morality tale (which admits various interpretations), and an entertaining satire on the clash of American and English cultures.

It is also a film which has a great intrinsic beauty, with some wonderfully inspired touches.  It opens with a Medieval pilgrimage and fast forwards to 1944 in a shot which inspired Kubrik for the famous opening sequence of his 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968).  This seductive opening provides the keynote for much of what follows - the notion that our present experiences are strongly shaped by past events.

Michael Powell grew up in Kent, and this accounts for the overwhelming sense sense of nostalgia in this, his most personal film.   The England that he and Pressburger portray in this film is not one that most English people of the time would have recognised.  The England of A Canterbury Tale is a romanticised, picture postcard one, with gently rolling hills, pretty villages and happy farm workers.

Yet, interestingly, whilst this view predominates, it is not the whole picture.  The image of a dreamy demi-paradise is frequently subverted in the film.  Firstly, there is the bizarre Glue Man episode, in which the culprit is readily shown to be one of the most important members of community.  We learn that three of the main characters in the film would never have thought to visit the countryside if the war hadn't dragged them to it.  And, when we get to Canterbury, one of the first things we see is the devastation wrought by German bombs.  If this is Eden, it's a very strange Eden - imperfect, in peril, and full of contradictions.

The main thrust of the film's pretty vague and meandering narrative involves the journey the four main characters undergo, a pilgrimage of sorts.  Alison, Colpepper and the British and American sergeants each experience an emotional crisis which is resolved, seemingly by divine intervention, in Canterbury.  Alison is struggling to come to terms with the death of her pilot fiancé, Bob is hurt that his girlfriend hasn't written to him, Peter regrets not having been given a chance to fulfil his musical ambitions, and Colpepper awaits retribution for his misguided glue-throwing adventures.  Once we get past the mildly tedious "Hunt the phantom glue thrower" part of the film - which has all the sophistication of an Enid Blyton Famous Five story - the film's true charms and its underlying messages become apparent.  Thereafter, the film's emotional hold on the spectator gradually intensifies, culminating in the beautiful closing sequences in Canterbury Cathedral, where order is restored to a troubled universe.

Whilst A Canterbury Tale has some flaws (notably in the plotting), it wins through in other areas.   The main strength is the cinematography, which, even for an Archers film, is of exceptional quality.  The photographer director was Erwin Hillier who had cut his professional teeth on the German expressionist style - he had worked as an assistant cameraman on Fritz Lang's M (1930).  His distinctive use of chiaroscuro bring an extraordinary, almost ethereal, splendour to even the most banal settings, although it is the film's exteriors where he excels.  It is the extensive shots of the Kent landscape which provide the film with its heart and soul - the most sensually bucolic depiction of the English countryside you can imagine, achingly poetic but with a strong impression of realism.  As an evocation of that mythical England of rolling hills and sleepy sun-dappled pastures, this film is virtually unsurpassed.

On its first release, A Canterbury Tale was ill-received by both critics and cinemagoers.  In a desperate bid to make the film more attractive to an American audience, it was drastically re-edited (losing 20 minutes of its runtime) and had a soppy additional scene (in which Bob is reunited with his girl) tagged on at the end.  The film's spectacular failure at the box office meant that it was quickly forgotten and only resurfaced in the 1970s, when it was restored and quickly earned the recognition it deserved.   Today, the film is as highly regarded as Powell and Pressburger's other great works - an enjoyable and beautifully composed piece of cinema showing us an England that has long passed away - if, that is, it ever existed.

Film Synopsis

One summer during WWII, three complete strangers are thrown together when they get off a train one evening at Chillingbourne village, several miles from Canterbury.   Bob Johnson, a sergeant in the American army, had intended to spend part of his leave visiting Canterbury but disembarked at the wrong station.  Peter Gibbs is a sergeant in the British Army whose unit is stationed in the area.  Alison Smith has given up a job in a London department store to work as a farm labourer.  Within minutes of their arrival, someone throws glue into Alison's hair.  When she learns that she is not the first victim of the mysterious "Glue Man", Alison persuades Bob and Peter to help her track down the culprit.  The finger of suspicion points to Colpepper, the local magistrate...