Tag: leisure

  • Bridging the gap between the academic and non-academic worlds III: Sharing local histories

    Bridging the gap between the academic and non-academic worlds III: Sharing local histories

    In this blog Josh Wintle, who graduated with a History degree from Portsmouth last year (well done, Josh!), discusses a project he worked on in his second year with some of his fellow History students for the module ‘Working with the Past’, coordinated by Dr Mike Esbester. As part of their project, the students looked into how academic historians take their work ‘out of the academy’ and into the public realm. Josh and his fellow students interviewed our Dr Rob James, who researches leisure history, to find out how he has tried to engage the wider public in the history he researches.

    The aim of the interviews we conducted with some of our tutors was to assess the impact historians’ research has on the public . Our interviews focused on the social impact of the outreach programmes they had undertaken, and the impact technology had on their research. Our aim was to make our findings widely available through this blog, so we regarded the interviews as informal conversations. Our focus was on the importance of research that involved those outside of academia, so we wanted to produce a project that reflected and included this audience.  Dr Robert James gave an array of detail regarding how and why historians interact with the public.

    Our first point of focus was asking the historians we interviewed what led them to choose their area of research. It was a simple question that garnished a variety of answers. The responses varied from personal interest to choosing areas of study that they thought would have present day importance. Rob, for example, told us that he became interested in his research area because he wanted to challenge the scholarship regarding working-class cinema goers. Coming from a similar background himself, he disagreed with some historians who said that people viewing a film were passive and easily persuaded by what was presented to them.

    A recurring theme throughout our interviews was exploring the rise of social history. Linked to this was the growth in people researching their own personal history and the history of those around them. Throughout Rob’s interview we discussed projects he’d worked on and I was intrigued to find out that he’d worked with a community group who wanted to uncover the impact of the Battle of Jutland on the people of Portsmouth, and also with Pompey History Society on the history of Portsmouth Football Club.

    The highlight from this project for me was discovering the desire of many people not only to learn about the history of the area around them, but also feeling the need to inform their communities of what they found. With the Jutland project, Rob spoke about the passion of the U3A group he worked with to remember those from the city who had died during the battle. He says they felt a duty to honour the people who once made up the community of the city, and also wanted to inform others of their findings.

    In fact, many of the projects undertaken by the historians we interviewed had aims focussed on informing the public of historical events that took place within the local area. The Jutland Project, along with Dr Mike Esbester’s work on railway health and safety, produced nationwide databases with the aim of making this research accessible to a much wider population. The aims of social outreach are also present in the work of Dr Melanie Basset, who is undertaking projects that aim to teach school children in Portsmouth about the historic ‘sailortown’ and what the area they lived in looked like historically. The interviews ultimately highlighted the interest of many groups to research and share the history of their local communities.

    Another key topic during our discussions was the element of technology, and how the advances in this field has affected the study of history. The main topic of discussion this question brought up was the development of archives and the process of digitisation. This topic brought up a lot of positive opinions, with Rob agreeing that digital archives can provide access to a much wider audience, including those outside of the academic community. Digital archives have both advantages and disadvantages, though. Rob mentioned that the long process of digitisation is ultimately selective, does not include all documents, and cannot truly cover an entire time period as some documents are left out of the process. Another point that was mentioned by Rob that I previously had not thought about was the element of “Wifi poverty” and how digitisation excludes those without access to technology, or those who cannot use it, including when these archives are hidden behind a paywall.

    During our interview with Rob, we also spoke about the Covid-19 pandemic and the benefits of online events. This has allowed Rob to take part in projects that he was unable to travel to due to the pandemic restrictions. His talk on cinema-going was able to go ahead thanks to the development of technology, and meant he was able to connect with a group of cinema enthusiasts who asked him if he’d talk with them.

    The interviews we conducted with our tutors showed the importance of interacting with the public. The projects they worked on were led by public interest and ultimately, through the work that both parties undertook, the community as a whole gained a better understanding of their local history.

  • Pompey: Champions of England: A research collaboration between the History team, students and Pompey History Society

    Pompey: Champions of England: A research collaboration between the History team, students and Pompey History Society

    In this blog, our Rob James, Senior Lecturer in History, discusses the local history project he worked on with one of our local community partners, Pompey History Society, that culminated in the publication of a book which includes a chapter written by Rob and four of our History students, Sam Ewart, Maria Kopanska, Dan Ward and Jack Woolley. Rob’s research explores society’s leisure activities and feeds into a number of optional and specialist modules that he teaches in the second and third year.

    ‘POMPEY Champions of England’ front cover

     

    On 26 October 2022, I attended the launch of the book POMPEY Champions of England: The sporting and social history of Portsmouth FC’s league title wins in 1949 & 1950, edited by the chair of Pompey History Society (PHS) Colin Farmery. The book launch, held at Portsmouth City Museum, was the culmination of the project ‘POMPEY: Champions of England’, run by PHS and generously funded by the Heritage Fund.

    I have been involved with the project from its inception. Many years ago now, Colin Farmery contacted me and asked if I was willing to be on the steering committee of a project that intended to capture, through undertaking oral history interviews, the memories of fans who witnessed Portsmouth Football Club’s back-to-back title wins in the 1948-49 and 1949-50 seasons. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity to be involved in the project. It allowed me to be more closely involved with the history of the football club I’d supported for many years, and also provided me with an opportunity to get the University, and more importantly, our students, involved and working with a local community organisation.

    Despite being disrupted by the Covid-19 pandemic, the project progressed well, and around 40 interviews were conducted and archived, leading to the production of a supplement of fan memories in the local newspaper The News, and the unveiling of a permanent exhibition at Fratton Park in late 2021.

    Pompey: Champions of England exhibition at Fratton Park

     

    The final aim of the project was to publish a book that placed the fans’ memories within the social and sporting context of the time they were visiting Fratton Park to watch Pompey achieve their incredible feat of consecutive title wins. The book was divided into the themes that had been drawn out from the testimonies of the supporters who were interviewed, and these included their memories of living in war-torn Portsmouth, the match-day experience, and the important role the football club played (and continues to play) in the local community. As editor, Colin Farmery had already commissioned a number of the chapters, but he approached me and asked if our students would like to be involved in writing a chapter on the theme of ‘Women and Football’. Of course, I said yes!

    First page of the chapter written by Rob, Sam, Maria, Dan and Jack

     

    Fortunately, one of our second year core modules, ‘Working with the Past’, is specifically designed to enable our students to work with the many local organisations who the History team are involved with. My colleagues and I work with the module’s coordinator, Mike Esbester, to offer students a suite of choices that allow them to gain valuable experience by working with these community partners.

    One of the choices I put forward was the opportunity to work with Pompey History Society, and we recruited four students, Sam Ewart, Maria Kopanska, Dan Ward and Jack Woolley, to work with the organisation. Colin invited the students to Fratton Park so that he could introduce them to the aims of the project. He also gave them a behind-the-scenes tour of the stadium, which included showing them the project’s permanent exhibition as well as a look at the Society’s archive. The task was set: the students were to be given access to all of the interviews that were conducted with female fans so that they could begin the research for their chapter.

    History students visiting the exhibition at Fratton Park

     

    For the project, four female fans – Joan Elder, Audrey Hawkins, Joan Phillips, and Maggie Thoyts – were interviewed. The students each took one of the testimonies, evaluated it, and wrote up a section for the chapter, which also coupled as part of their assessment for the module. I came back in at the end of the process and edited the students’ contributions so that the chapter ran along a thematic line, introducing additional contextual material to build a full picture of the women’s experience of being a female football fan in the 1940s and early 1950s.

    Lady Mayor Maria Costa speaking at the book launch

     

    So, there we have it, the book has been launched and the students are now published authors. That’s something to catch the eye of a prospective employer! Pompey History Society are thrilled with the work the students have done, and we are currently discussing what future projects our students could be involved with (I’m on the ‘125 Committee’ which is planning a series of activities to coincide with the 125th anniversary of the formation of Portsmouth Football Club in 1898). All in all, it’s been a great experience and I am so proud of our students’ achievements. Well done Dan, Jack, Maria, and Sam!

    Colin Farmery, Sam Ewart and Rob James at the book launch
  • UoP’s History Society welcomes new faces

    UoP’s History Society welcomes new faces

    In the following short blog, third year UoP history student Pauline Standley encourages new students to join our student history society.

    The recently-formed history society NEED YOU to come and be part of a group who love history! We are a casual, student-led group currently run by third-year History students.

    As a society, we want to encourage discussion on anything historical, whether it be what we’ve been taught in lectures, a Henry VIII podcast which randomly came up on your Spotify recommendations, the most recent Russell Crowe historical movie, even down to hilarious history memes you’ve scoped out! Throughout the year, we are here to help whether it be a friendly face to give you student advice or a sociable group to give you a chance to meet new people. We understand that your time is precious, between Purple Wednesdays, seminars and lectures, cheeky pints with your mates down the pub and wrangling assignments, we’ve tried to design the society to be as friendly to the busyness of uni life as we can – meaning we’ll meet up roughly once a month. We are aiming to do a variety of things including pub meet-ups, cinema trips and quiz nights to name a few, but if you have any suggestions we are open to hearing them!

    If you are interested, take a look at our Facebook page under the name of University of Portsmouth History Society and give us a ‘like’ and comment under the recent post to join the group chat. We look forward to hearing from you!

    Here’s a TV Series recommendation to kickstart things: How To Become a Tyrant (Netflix) recommended by Pauline!

  • Urban football as a nineteenth-century blood sport

    Urban football as a nineteenth-century blood sport

    Second-year UoP student Mandy Wrenn discusses a 1846 engraving showing a large group of men playing football in the centre of the town of Kingston in Surrey, and the contemporary concerns over the control of urban spaces and popular leisure activities it reflects. This piece was originally written for the Fear and Fun module, taught by Dr Rob James and Dr Karl Bell.

    The primary source is set in 1846, at a time of continued transition in Victorian Britain from the past to modernity. The depiction of the game, with a large crowd of men playing a game of football in the centre of a town, will have been received in very different ways by different onlookers. This piece examines the context of the picture along with the conflicting views of the time with regards to upper class fears of mass participation activities, the uses of urban spaces and the need for a reliable industrial workforce.

    The middle and upper classes were becoming increasingly detached from the lower classes and, as such, saw the lower classes as more of a threat than ever before. Robert Storch observes that classes had participated in activities together far more in the past, notably at horse racing or boxing events, but this had diminished as the classes split more into that of employer and employee with a consequent change in relationships.[1] Storch argues that this new, deference-based relationship, defined as ‘urban paternalism’, would replace old popular culture – if not there was a problem.[2] David Cannadine contends there are other reasons why the gap between rich and poor was more evident at this time, with the 1840s being the ‘most disturbed of the century’ and that this was understood at the time, with Benjamin Disraeli writing, in 1845, about the ‘deep split’ between the classes.[3] Cannadine explains that a severe depression between 1837 and 1843 had caused huge amounts of poverty and unemployment, and there were increasingly adverse effects of urbanisation and industrialisation with life expectancy in some areas in the North West as low as 22 – all of which had contributed to lower class resentment and joining radical political parties such as the Chartists. Brad Beaven and Jeffrey Richards argue that large groups of men, engaged in leisure, was a particular concern and thought to be very threatening to the social order – men would go to pubs with social events then turning into uncontrolled gatherings that might spread radical political ideas.[5]  Peter Swain does offer the counter argument that any fears were irrational as people would only hear about football games if they were reported in newspapers and provides many positive reports of games of ‘old English’ football, with even groups of clergy, employers and employees playing together. [6] Nevertheless, the prevailing view from the upper and middle classes was that mass gatherings of working class men e.g. at football games were a potential threat.

    The source shows a town setting for the football match at a time when the ‘ownership’ and control of urban spaces was being contested. Christopher Hibbert provides a contemporaneous description of football variously described as ‘smashing the panes of glass of buildings and carriages’ and that players would ‘knock you down with no compunction and laugh while they were doing it’, which might explain why there are no onlookers or bystanders (particularly upper class) in the picture.[7] Steve Poole demonstrates that, whilst urban spaces had always been accessible over the centuries, albeit with permission for who could do what, there was far more control exerted by urban elites by the mid-nineteenth century, with the removal of common land and creation of safe, municipal parks.[8] Poole argues that this was in reaction to several decades of radical political meetings and a wish to remove older, less orderly customs – all of which were a challenge to the elite.[9] However, contends Storch, more and more public gatherings were orderly and sober; events such as Chartists, trade unions and some workers were actually anti-popular culture.

    The fact that we see a game of football in a town setting as late as 1846, could be explained by Edward Royle’s argument that in fact towns and cities at the time were not as separate as urban and rural as they are today; streets would be filled with animals (and their waste) coming to live markets and that rural immigrants had brought their own customs with them.[11] Given that a rural sport like football was a very violent game, indeed Royle goes so far as to designate it as a blood sport in a ‘bloodthirsty age’, there would have been high levels of anxiety for the match shown in the primary source.[12]

    Engaging in uncontrolled, popular culture was also a problem at a time when Britain wanted its workforce to be at its most productive, in order to drive the industrial age. E.P. Thompson argues how this led to elite concerns about the amount of unproductive, uncontrolled leisure time of the working class, especially as British workers seemed able to be drawn back to ‘old, uninhibited ways’.[13] Institutes, set up by industrialists or other middle-class benefactors, focused on self-improvement and education for the working man and attempted to provide alternatives to the propensity for the ‘old ways’ – Beaven and Richards contend that these were of limited success as there was little or no entertainment involved.[14] This is supported by Peter Bailey who argues that the working class adopted respectability to their advantage as and when required but were tied to their own popular culture.[15] However, the timing of this match is at the start of significant changes for the working class – shorter working hours, improved working conditions and increases in real wages culminating in a more considered approach on how to spend leisure time, with violent activities such as football, as argued by Rosalind Crone, gradually controlled with a respectable working class.[16] Nevertheless, given that the source records a game of football on a Shrove Tuesday, which was not a public holiday at the time, there might be some legitimacy to concerns about wasted leisure time.

    In conclusion, the source gives insights of some of the concerns of the elite in the practices of mass working class activities such as football, especially in an urban setting. With the increasing divisions between the working, middle and upper classes leading to concern about radical politics, large groups of working class men engaged in uncontrolled leisure was a real concern. In an urban setting this would have been particularly worrying as it brought unwanted (by the elites) old, rural ways into spaces which were being increasingly controlled to control the working class. Added to the desire to modernise and maximise the productivity of the working class, unregulated games were another threat to the order the elites desired.

    Primary Source Document:

    ‘A nineteenth-century game of football – Kingston-Upon-Thames, Shrove Tuesday, February 24th, 1846’.

    [1] Robert D. Storch, Popular Culture and Custom in Nineteenth- Century England (Abingdon: Taylor & Francis Group, 1982), 3.

    [2] Robert D. Storch, Popular Culture and Custom in Nineteenth- Century England, 3 – 4.

    [3] David Cannadine, Victorious Century: The United Kingdom, 1800-1906 (Bungay: Penguin, 2017), 202.

    [4] David Cannadine, Victorious Century: The United Kingdom, 1800-1906 , 202 – 204.

    [5] Brad Beaven and Jeffrey Richards, Leisure, Citizenship and Working Class Men in Britain, 1850-1940 (Manchester:    Manchester University Press, 2005), 17.

    [6] Peter Swain, The Origins of Football Debate: The Continuing Demise of the Dominant Paradigm, 1852-1856, in The International Journal of the History of Sport, 31, No. 17, (2014): 2214.

    [7] Christopher Hibbert, The English A Social History, 1066-1945 (London: Harper Collins, 1994), 170.

    [8] Steve Poole, ‘Till our liberties be secure’: popular sovereignty and public space in Bristol, 1780-1850, Urban History, 26, No. 1, (1999): 41.

    [9] Steve Poole, ‘Till our liberties be secure’: 42.

    [10] Steve Poole, ‘Till our liberties be secure’: 42.

    [11] Edward Royle,  Modern Britain, A Social History, 1750-2011, 3rd ed. (London: Bloomsbury, 2012), 273.

    [12] Edward Royle,  Modern Britain, 273.

    [13] E.P. Thompson, ‘Work-Discipline, and Industrial Capitalism’, Past and Present, 38, No. 1 (1967): 90.

    [14] Brad Beaven and Jeffrey Richards, Leisure, Citizenship and Working Class Men in Britain, 1850-1940, 19.

    [15] Peter Bailey, Leisure and Class in Victorian England: Rational Recreation and the Contest for Control 1830-1885 (London: Routledge, 1978), cited in Crone, Rosalind, Violent Victorians : Popular Entertainment in Nineteenth-Century London (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2012), 261 – 262.

    [16] Rosalind Crone, Violent Victorians : Popular Entertainment in Nineteenth-Century London (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2012), 260, 264.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • “There are no revolutions in well-governed countries” – British film and the Russian Revolution

    “There are no revolutions in well-governed countries” – British film and the Russian Revolution

    In this blog, Rob James explores how the events of the 1917 Russian Revolution impacted British film production in the mid-twentieth century. Rob tells us that the chance of a film being made depicting those tumultuous events depended on how they were presented. If the film demonstrated any sympathy towards the revolutionaries, then a ban was inevitable. Rob’s research covers society’s leisure activities and how they were shaped and controlled from both within and outside the entertainment industry. His research feeds into a number of optional and specialist modules that he teaches in the second and third year.

    Still from the film Princess Charming (1934)
    Still from the film Princess Charming (1934)

    In the 1934 film Princess Charming, produced by Michael Balcon, one of Britain’s leading filmmakers at the time, Captain Launa, the upper-class suitor of the eponymous Princess, criticised the Bolshevik revolutionary activity taking place in the fictional Ruritanian country the action is set in, pointedly remarking: ‘There are no revolutions in well-governed countries’.[1] It’s a clear message for cinemagoers, particularly those living in Britain, that revolutions only occur in countries without adequate governing structures. The implication, therefore, was that the British state, with its long-standing history of democratic government, could be trusted to solve any difficulties that the country was currently facing.

    Photography of the Jarrow marchers, 1936
    The Jarrow marchers, 1936

    And Britain was certainly facing significant difficulties in the decade in which this film was made. Suffering from economic decline, high unemployment and rising poverty, and confronted by a series of national and international crises, Britain was a divided country, with many of its citizens feeling deep social and political discontent. Historians have described the period as a ‘devil’s decade’, a near-apocalyptic era that witnessed a rupture in the normally stable system of government.[2] With many of the country’s inhabitants looking outwards towards Soviet Russia or Nazi Germany for an answer to their problems, this bubbling discontent was brought to the fore, and seemed to be encapsulated in, two events that took place in October 1936: the Jarrow March – when 200 men from that Tyneside town marched to London to protest about rising unemployment in traditional heavy industries; and the Battle of Cable Street – which saw clashes on London’s streets between Oswald Mosley’s Blackshirts and 100,000 anti-Fascist protesters.[3]

    Photograph of the battle of cable street in 1936
    The battle of cable street in 1936

     

    On top of these tumultuous events, in December of that very same year the King, Edward VIII, renounced the throne so that he could marry the American-divorcee Wallace Simpson, creating a constitutional crisis.[4] The fallout from the Abdication crisis was huge. Society’s leaders were concerned that if this important pillar of the British constitution could fall, then so could the others – namely democratic parliament could come crashing down at the whim of political extremism. As a result, any depiction of revolutionary activity in popular cultural media, like film, became a touchy issue. The political censorship of the film medium thus increased dramatically throughout the decade, and any film that attempted to deal with some of the most pressing social issues of the day was likely to be banned by the British Board of Film Censors, the organisation in charge of overseeing the censorship of the film medium.[5] Reading the reports written up by the censors, it becomes clear that whether a film was passed or not was dependent on how it presented the ‘revolutionary’ element. In 1931, for example, The Red Light, a film said by the censor to depict London ‘on the eve of Red Revolution’, was prohibited. The film’s setting was its undoing – it was based too close to home![6] Another film, Red Square, despite being set in Russia, was prohibited in 1934 because it contained ‘sordid settings’.[7] However, two other films that dealt with the revolutionary topic, Soviet and Knight Without Armour, were allowed to be produced; the former because, the censor noted, it emphasised ‘the forced labour and hard striving of the working class under the five year plan’; the latter because, it made ‘no attempt at political propaganda’.[8]

    The censor’s comments about Knight Without Armour‘s political neutrality aren’t quite true, however. The film does contain political propaganda. In its depiction of the Bolsheviks it openly condemns revolutionary activity. Produced by Alexander Korda, another leading filmmaker of the time who was sympathetic to the British constitution, Knight Without Armour is set in the throes of the 1917 Russian Revolution and depicts the Bolsheviks as brutish, self-indulgent, and only interested in personal gain.[9] The country they have taken over is shown to have been thrown into chaos because of their activities. By contrast, the Russian aristocracy, epitomised by Marlene Dietrich’s Countess Alexandra, is portrayed in a sympathetic light. In one stunning sequence during which the revolutionaries storm the Countess’s palace, Dietrich is clothed in white and bathed in light: the embodiment of aristocratic purity and virtue.

    Photograph of Marlene Dietrich in Knight Without Armour (1937)
    Marlene Dietrich in Knight Without Armour (1937)

    The revolutionaries, in sharp contrast, are darkly attired and cast in shadow: a sinister, anonymous mob descending the hill to brutalise the Countess and lay waste to her home. By juxtaposing the protagonists in this way Knight Without Armour makes a powerful statement against Soviet Russia. It both instructs and educates the audience against the folly of trying to overthrow the system. It is film as political propaganda, persuading the audience to think in a particular way about the Revolution. In a time when the very foundations of British society were appearing to crumble, this was a very powerful message indeed. And this was undoubtedly the reason why the film was passed by the censors.

    Still photo from Knight Without Armour: revolutionaries
    Knight Without Armour: revolutionaries

    Of course, no film ever reflects reality, but all films will reveal something about the time in which they were made. And the British films that were made in this period that featured any form of revolutionary activity are perfect examples of this.

    The messages they presented to cinemagoers who may have been agitating for radical change were clear: any form of violent overthrow of the established order was to be avoided at all costs, and there would be no need for a revolution in this well-governed country!

     

    [1] Michael Balcon, Princess Charming, 1934.

    [2] Early proponents of this view include Noreen Branson and Margot Heinemann, whose Britain in the Nineteen Thirties (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1971) painted a picture of a country on the brink of collapse.

    [3] Juliet Gardiner, The Thirties: An Intimate History (London: Harper Press, 2010), 441-446.

    [4] Frank Mort, “Love in a Cold Climate: Letter, Public Opinion and Monarchy in the 1936 Abdication Crisis,” Twentieth Century British History 25, no. 1 (2020), 30-62: 33.

    [5] Robert James, “‘The People’s Amusement’: Cinemagoing and the BBFC, 1928-48”, in Behind the Scenes at the BBFC: Film Classification from the Silver Screen to the Digital Age ed. Edward Lamberti. (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), 16-27: 17.

    [6] British Board of Film Censors, ‘Scenario Reports’, British Film Institute, London. 15 December 1931.

    [7] Ibid., 22 February 1934.

    [8] See Ibid., 24 July 1933 and 18 February 1935 respectively. Soviet was initially opposed (Ibid., 11 March 1933) but was allowed to be produced after amendments were made.

    [9] Alexander Korda, Knight Without Armour, 1937.

  • Have yourself a (not quite so) very merry Christmas film

    Have yourself a (not quite so) very merry Christmas film

    In this blog, UoP Senior Lecturer Rob James reflects on the changing popularity of the, now well-regarded, festive classic It’s a Wonderful Life. Rob tells us that the film’s success was not predetermined, and that it took a mixture of chance and luck, along with a well-told story of course, for the film to achieve its status as a seasonal favourite. Rob’s research covers society’s leisure activities and this feeds into a number of optional and specialist modules he teaches in the second and third year.

    Final scene from It's a Wonderful Life showing everyone celebrating Christmas.
    Final scene from It’s a Wonderful Life.

    In a recent poll featured in The Independent newspaper of the ‘Best Christmas Movies’, the 1946 Hollywood-produced film It’s a Wonderful Life came in at number one, followed by Home Alone (1990) at number two, Elf (2003) at number three, and The Snowman (1982) and Love Actually (2003), at numbers four and five respectively, making up the rest of the top five most highly-rated Christmas films.[1]

    It’s a Wonderful Life is, by far, the oldest film featured in the top 5, and is the second oldest film in the twenty-film list – the oldest being the 1944 wartime hit Meet Me in St Louis, featuring Judy Garland, who sang the tear-jerking, pathos-filled song Have Yourself a Very Merry Christmas at a time when many people could certainly not look forward to having a very merry Christmas at all.

    Despite being released in 1946 – and filmed in black-and-white – It’s a Wonderful Life maintains a particular resonance with contemporary audiences.  The film often sits atop these types of seasonal all-time Christmas movie lists, keeping all other films, even popular newcomers, at bay. In fact, It’s a Wonderful Life has, for some time now, been recognised, and frequently-voted as, the favourite Christmas film by both film critics and the film-loving public. Indeed, in a Radio Times poll in 2018 the film came top having received just under 10% of the overall votes.[2] As James Munby has rightly noted, It’s a Wonderful Life has ‘assumed the status of the Christmas movie’.[3]

    Cinema poster showing how the film was advertised when first released.
    Cinema poster showing how the film was advertised when first released.

    However, its popularity has not always been so failsafe. Despite America’s Variety magazine heaping praise on the film upon its release, describing it as ‘gleaming, engaging entertainment’, it generally received mixed reviews, and didn’t perform at all well at the box-office.[4] In fact, it lost money – some half a million dollars; a considerable sum now, let alone in the austerity-ridden post-war years. This came as something of a surprise considering it was directed by the renowned Hollywood producer Frank Capra, whose films had usually struck gold.[5]

    It was the film’s bleak subject matter that caused alarm among its critics. Contemporaries were often left feeling rather nonplussed after watching the tale of wholesome family man George Bailey, played by the popular film star James Stewart, contemplating suicide and only accepting his life had meaning – and was worth living – after the timely intervention of guardian angel, Clarence (Henry Travers). One contributor to the British film fan magazine Picturegoer, for example, thought the film was ‘well handled’, but showed ‘signs of being too well worn’.[6] More acerbically, a The New York Times writer criticised its tendency to put a positive spin on its subject matter, describing it as ‘a figment of Pollyanna platitudes’.[7]

    Nevertheless, despite this rather inauspicious start, It’s a Wonderful Life continues to appeal to generations of film lovers, offering something as warm and cosy as a comfortable pair of slippers. What caused this revival? Partly it is the film’s subject matter. As The Guardian‘s Lucinda Everett has noted, it’s the film’s message that ‘we are loved, and our lives matter more that we could imagine’ that cements it as one of the festive season’s best offerings.[8]

    However, the story hasn’t changed – it’s still very bleak – it’s just that the context has. At the time of its release in 1946 audiences didn’t really want to watch a film that reminded them of the struggles facing the American ‘Everyman’. They demanded something more upbeat.[9] So, it’s not just the subject-matter that helps to create popularity, it’s also a matter of timing.

    There’s even more to it than this, though. The film also owes its modern-day success to chance. Having been sold to television when its releasing company RKO collapsed in the mid-1950s, and then falling out of copyright in the 1970s after its license wasn’t renewed, It’s a Wonderful Life became free to broadcast, leading more cash-strapped TV companies to show it as competition against other big holiday specials scheduled by the larger stations.[10] As film critic Peter Bradshaw has noted, ‘a seasonal tradition was invented and this little-regarded film began to grow inexorably in popularity and retrospective importance’. [11]

    Ever since then, this festive fantasy comedy drama has grown in the public’s affections and featured high in the Christmas movie popularity stakes. So, while It’s a Wonderful Life has not always been viewed as capturing the spirit of this festive time of year, and while its subject matter may not be as reassuringly comfortable as the fluffy dressing-gown worn as we settle down to watch it with a glass of port or brandy-infused Christmas pudding, it nonetheless serves as a reminder that a film’s popularity fluctuates, that successful films are often the result of luck or happenchance, not just a darn good story, and that these things are always historically contingent. Perhaps, then, to repurpose (and mangle) the film’s closing lines, it’s not every time a bell rings that an angel manages to get its wings. Or perhaps it is, judging by the film’s current day ubiquity. I’ll leave that for you to decide. Merry Christmas.

    [1] Alexandra Pollard, ‘The 20 greatest Christmas movies, from Home Alone to The Muppets Christmas Carol’, The Independent, 8 December 2020. https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/films/features/best-christmas-movies-films-ranked-b1765604.html. Accessed 8 December 2020.

    [2] Radio Times Staff, ‘It’s a Wonderful Life named Britain’s favourite Christmas film’, Radio Times, 19 December 2018.

    [3] James Munby, ‘A Hollywood Carol’s Wonderful Life’, in Mark Connelly ed. Christmas at the Movies: Images of Christmas in American, British and European cinema, (London: I.B Tauris, 2010), 39-57; 39.

    [4] Bert, ‘Film Reviews’, Variety, 26 December 1946, 12.

    [5] Munby, ‘A Hollywood Carol’s Wonderful Life’, 39.

    [6] M.W., ‘A wonderful life for Donna’, Picturegoer, 7 June 1947, 8.

    [7] Cited in Munby, ‘A Hollywood Carol’s Wonderful Life’, 46.

    [8] Lucinda Everett, ‘What is the best Christmas movie? You asked Google – here’s the answer’, The Guardian, 27 December 2017.

    [9] Munby, ‘A Hollywood Carol’s Wonderful Life’, 46.

    [10] Munby, ‘A Hollywood Carol’s Wonderful Life’, 39-40.

    [11] Peter Bradshaw, ‘The Santa supremacy: Peter Bradshaw’s top Christmas movies’, The Guardian, 15 December 2010.