Discussions of Class and the Welfare State in Wartime British Cinema

(Essay written January, 2019)

(Still from the opening credits of 'Waterloo Road')

In the latter stages of the Second World War, when it was not a question of if but when the Allies secured victory, the British people gazed into the future with both hope and uncertainty. The conditions of war had transformed Britain’s social fabric, radically altering everyday life by disrupting traditional structures of class and gender. Furthermore, the state exercised more power over the individual than ever before, nationalising all industries and implementing a national policy of restriction and restraint through a rationing system that effected every echelon of society. But, despite these ruptures, the nation was united by the common cause of victory over an existential threat to their way of life. As Paul Addison notes of the collective sacrifice, “Perhaps the best overall measure of social solidarity is the extent to which people in all classes acquiesced in the surrender of their personal freedoms”[1]. Although wartime Britain was by no means a classless utopia, the pervading sense of collectivism impacted how people viewed social identity and raised questions about the relevance of the pre-war class system. Moreover, the release of the ‘Beveridge Report’ in 1942 fuelled a debate within the public and political sphere about these issues, creating a space through which the nation could contemplate the post-war world. So, as the end of conflict drew near, the nation occupied a liminal position between the pre and post-war world, forcing every individual to ponder the future. It was within this context that British cinema offered a space through which to discuss these issues of national identity, the social system, and the question of a post-war consensus. These films reflected and engaged with their contemporary, communicating with the spectator both covertly and overtly about these issues, and ultimately becoming a part of a national conversation.

In British film criticism, the 1940s have long been regarded as the ‘Golden Age’ of British cinema. Throughout this period there was a record numbers of cinema attendance that was coupled with the release of pioneering films by auteurs such as David Lean and Carol Reed[2]. Writing in and of this period has, for the most part, tended to focus on the birth of British realist films that were “set in contemporary British locales, addressing specifically national issues and adopting an aesthetic of restrained realism”[3]. With their roots in the Grierson documentary tradition, these films aimed to reflect the experiences of ordinary people in contemporary, wartime Britain, and would influence the development of British social realism. However, Pam Cook argues that the proliferation of criticism on these films has been motivated by the need to define ‘Britishness’, signifying how a wider crisis of national identity has contaminated the discourse of British film history. Andrew Higson, a prominent scholar of realist films in this period, reflects this cultural hegemony and its underlying stimuli, “The war years of the 40s are not the years of the Gainsborough melodrama, but that Golden Age when the documentary and the feature film momentarily came together and a truly national cinema seems to have been found”[4]. However, since the 1980s, a revaluation of the critically disregarded Gainsborough melodramas has broken this consensus. According to Cook, the refusal by scholars and critics of these films in the space of British film history is symptomatic of a cultural hegemony that marginalises films that problematise the consensus view of British cinema (Cook 1996, 18). Influenced by these revisionist approaches to British film history, I aim to contribute further to this growing discourse on wartime British cinema.

In this essay, I am concerned with how both a Gainsborough melodrama and a realist ‘home front’ film interact with the socio-political climate towards the end of World War Two, and how they both engaged in a national conversation about contemporary issues. To begin with I will outline the historical, social, cultural, and economic context of wartime Britain with the purpose of establishing what kind of spectator the films would have communicated with, and to also demonstrate the relevance of the issues that these films commented on. Then, I will look at the prevailing discourses surrounding wartime British cinema, and how my analysis will differentiate as well as build upon these discourses. Lastly, I will apply this contextual research and critical framework to an analysis of Fanny by Gaslight (1944) and Waterloo Road (1945), discussing the similarities and differences in their approaches to the same contemporary issues.

World War Two has been historically referred to as the ‘people’s war’, and this, in the British imaginary, signifies a unique period in the nation’s history when a war united an entire nation, regardless of class, race, or gender. Furthermore, this notion of the people’s war has been the driving force behind historical studies of this period. Addison, a revisionist historian of modern British history, aptly summarises the predominant themes of these historical discourses:

"two key issues in the history of the home front have been present almost from the start. One is the extent to which the war unified a hitherto divided society, creating a sense of solidarity which may or may not have endured after 1945. The other is the extent to which it radicalized a hitherto conservative society and led on to the creation of a new peacetime social and political order".[5]

This focus has motivated a plethora of writing concerned with the extent to which the war transformed the social fabric, and how much it was responsible for the creation of the welfare state. Wartime British society, after all, experienced rapid changes in a short period of time, and this inevitably disrupted traditional notions of class and gender. Angus Calder approaches the home front from this perspective, charting the vast effects of war and government policy upon everyday life. Additionally, Calder challenges the notion of that wartime Britain was a socially harmonious, unified society. However, Calder and several other historians were criticised in the 1970s for the periodisation of World War Two as a major shift in British history[6].In these revisionist debates it was argued that the post-war consensus was not wholly attributed to the 1940s, but rather a “revival of pre-war agendas, and a reworking of ideas formulated in the 1930s”[7]. But, although Addison takes a revisionist stance on the 1930s, he does not discount the importance of the rapid changes to British life during the war and the widespread desire for social reconstruction that resulted in a Labour government from 1945-51[8]. Moreover, Calder’s research on this period is invaluable if one is to discuss the social, political, cultural, and economic climate of wartime Britain.

In discussing this context then in relation to wartime British cinema, I will be using revisionist works as well as those of historians working before the 1970s to achieve a wide and balanced spread of secondary research. Furthermore, I will be conducting primary research that has largely been gained from ‘Mass Observation’.

In 1940, after the events of Dunkirk and the infamous ‘We Shall Fight on the Beaches’ speech by Winston Churchill, Britain saw itself as “an island defeated yet still unconquered, vigilant, historically defiant”[9]. The ‘spirit of Dunkirk’ had a unifying effect upon the nation, conjuring up a historical narrative of ‘British’ togetherness and defiance that reinforced a sense of national character[10]. This united home front was consistently reinforced by the rhetoric of the ‘people’s war’ that was circulated through British culture at the time. Addison summarises this pervading sense of unity that traversed social boundaries, “It was inevitable in wartime that politicians and publicists should strive to present the British as one people, united by a common sense of identity and purpose…This was a ‘people’s war’ – a phrase that not only blurred the distinctions between soldiers and civilians, but also distinctions between the classes and sexes”[11]. Divided classes were bound together by a collective sense of national duty and divine purpose. But, there was more than just the power of rhetoric and national identity that influenced this, as the dramatic change in the relationship between state and citizen began to take effect.

At the outbreak of war, the Emergency Powers Act was passed in Parliament, “which allowed the government to do almost anything it thought was necessary for running the war effectively”[12]. Industry was nationalised and a strict rationing system on all consumer goods was implemented. The state also enforced an egalitarian fiscal policy by introducing heavy tax increases for the upper-classes.[13] As Lloyd notes, “Equality of sacrifice tended to take the form of bringing everyone down towards a uniform subsistence level”[14].

Food rationing worked on the egalitarian principle that every member of society, regardless of social standing, was given the same allowance of food[15]. The rationing system was popular among most people, symbolising equality and reflecting the common, defiant mood of unity[16]. Lloyd poignantly describes the symbolism of mass queuing for rationed goods, “The queue became the symbol of wartime Britain, and its implicit values -- fair shares, peaceful and patient waiting, and no advantages for the rich -- were part of what the country was fighting for” [17]. It also signified a different relationship between state and citizen in comparison to pre-war society, defined now by a nation providing food for all regardless of economic and social positions. However, Calder argues that although the rationing system may have been fair in principle, it was unfair in practice for many working-class families:

"Rationing, in fact, was regarded as most fair in those sections of the populations and regions where food had been plentiful before the war, and was least popular with heavy workers and those who lived in the pre-war depressed areas…A coal-miner might need half as many calories again as the three thousand judged sufficient each day for a moderately active man of average build."[18]

As a result, a significant proportion of working-class families would have struggled more than middle and upper-class families who did not work in heavy industry, thus serving as a reminder of the lack of consideration on a government level for the conditions of the working-class. However, rationing was undeniably popular and unified most of the nation through collective suffering and egalitarian principles that had done more to wither class distinctions than reinforce them.

With the formation of a wartime coalition government in 1940, some politicians of the Labour party became ministers in aid of the war effort. Of these was Ernest Bevin, a devoted trade unionist and champion of working-class rights that was subsequently made Minister of Labour. As the state now controlled industry, Bevin was in a privileged position to infuse his socialist beliefs and principles into the production of labour supply for the war effort. Lloyd summarises the principles of ‘Bevinism’:

"Bevin insisted that working conditions in factories should be made as tolerable as possible by providing canteens and personnel departments and by enforcing legislation…he knew that making the fullest possible use of manpower demanded a high level of labour mobility, and this could be achieved by making people feel they were being cared for at work."[19]

Furthermore, Bevin “used his powers to improve the wages and conditions of 6 million workers in factories or undertakings covered by the Essential Work Order”[20]. The impact of Bevin’s policies was not only the stimulation of production, but also to ingrain his socialist ideals into the British workplace and to secure greater conditions and benefits for the working-class. Moreover, Bevin introduced music and entertainment into the workplace. As well as improving working conditions, it also unified workers and created a communal atmosphere that was expressed through patriotic sing-a-longs[21]. In summary, the infusion of Bevinism in the workplace contributed to the prevalent feeling of national unity beyond social roles. Furthermore, Bevin improved both work and economic conditions for the working-class, giving them a voice in government policy.

In August 1942, Mass Observation conducted a questionnaire that asked people what they hoped as well as expected post-war Britain would be like. Most of the responses were cautious and pessimistic, as most expected a return to the unemployment of the pre-war years and continued hardship as Britain suffered for the economic cost of war. Additionally, many people just wanted to settle down and longed for the ‘normality’ of pre-war life[22]. However, with the publication of the Beveridge Report in November 1942, suddenly the British people were offered a vision for a different future.

In 1941, the Liberal economist William Beveridge was assigned with the task of reviewing existing health and unemployment insurance schemes and to recommend changes [23]. However, as Addison summarises:

"Beveridge expanded his terms of reference and transformed his report into a manifesto for the new Britain. He proposed a social security plan to ensure a minimum standard of living for the whole population from the cradle to the grave, accompanied by three related ‘assumptions’: children’s allowances, health services available to all, and the impact of the second world war policies to prevent mass unemployment."[24]

This Report was an ambitious plan to eliminate poverty, and ultimately demonstrated to the public that living in a fairer, more equal society was entirely feasible. Beveridge’s plans were immensely popular among the public and it received an unprecedented amount of publicity, through press coverage and explanatory pamphlets[25]. As Calder documents, “Within two weeks of its publication, a Gallup Poll discovered that nineteen people out of twenty had heard of the report, and nine out of ten”[26] supported it. The public overwhelmingly supported a plan that argued for the continuation of wartime policies of state intervention and social levelling. However, at the time most people did not believe it would be implemented, reflecting political apathy and a lack of belief in the current Conservative government on issues of social change.

While the Labour Party and the Liberals overwhelmingly supported the report when put to Parliament, most of the Conservative party did not[27]. Whilst Labour MPs pushed for its immediate implementation, “Churchill seems to have seen the report as a distraction from the task of winning the war, not as something which might help it”[28]. Here, the Labour Party positioned themselves as the party of the future, whilst the Conservatives were viewed as yesterday’s party. Moreover, even though the Conservatives released the White Papers as a response to the report, it was far too late to curb a left-wing populist movement for a post-war Labour government that would enact social change. Ultimately, the widespread demand for social and economic change was reflected in the outcome of the 1945 general election which Labour comfortably won.

In conclusion, by 1945 the British people were increasingly hopeful of a post-war society that could effectively fight the evils of unemployment and could recover from the war through large-scale social housing. The Beveridge Report was instrumental in providing this hope, and instigated a national debate in politics, the press, and the public about the future of Britain. With the rapid social changes that took place in Britain as a result of ‘total war’, and the impact of the Beveridge Report, the war years were a transformative and chaotic period for ordinary people. Inevitably, this state of flux was reflected in wartime British cinema.

(Still from 'Fanny by Gaslight')

During World War Two the emergence of the realist, home front film was viewed by critics as a watershed moment for British cinema and “became central to British cinematic identity”[29]. Aptly summarising the critical consensus, James Chapman argues that “The films which have attracted most critical attention are those which presented a picture of the British people at war, united despite class differences, and where the stories of individuals, heroic though they may be, were sublimated into a greater story of the whole nation pulling together at a time of national crisis” [30]. Chapman, like Cook, concludes that the cultural hegemony of these films was significantly influenced by issues of national identity. As a result of this cultural obsession, the popular Gainsborough costume dramas of this era were denied any cultural legitimacy. Harper argues that another reason for this was that “The films did not conform to the criteria of good taste, since their lack of realism befitted a low-status audience. Time and again, critics from a wide range of journals attacked the films because they were aimed at working class females”[31]. Here, Harper identifies not just a stylistic snobbery, but also an underlying bias that is tied to issues of class and gender.

As well as anxieties about gender, class, and national identity, the cultural fear of Americanism has motivated the obsession with realism, and the detestation of Gainsborough melodramas. In his analysis of the documentary influence upon home front films, Higson notes that “at the heart of the documentary idea is a powerful differentiation between ‘realism’ and ‘escapism’: between a serious, committed, engaged cinema, and mass entertainment” [32]. Throughout the history of film, escapism and mass entertainment has always been associated with Hollywood. In addition, the fantastical aesthetic and the popularity of Gainsborough costume dramas aligned them with Hollywood filmmaking, and were therefore considered as the antithesis to the ‘quality’ realist film. However, the assumption that these costume dramas did not engage with their contemporary social setting because they were not aesthetically influenced by the documentary movement is wholly inaccurate. It is reflective of the dichotomy of the home front film and the costume drama that denies the latter enough attention for how those films may engage with prevalent contemporary issues.

The appeal of Gainsborough costume dramas to wartime audiences was partially because it offered a glamourous, fantastical space for the audience to escape from the grim reality war. Significantly, home front films did not achieve the same popularity, and subsequently experienced a dip in attendances in the latter stages of the war[33]. Harper argues that part of the allure for the largely female audience was the sensual and flamboyant costumes that, in the context of clothes rationing, were forbidden to women[34]. Furthermore, “historical clothes signalled an entry into a world of fantasy where freedom and pleasure were coterminous”[35]. These films offered a space through which the spectator could momentarily transgress the taboos of excess and sensuality that they were constantly denied in everyday life. In addition to this, these films were influenced by the Gothic novel and often the narratives that revolved around the transgression of social boundaries[36]. In Fanny by Gaslight, transgressing social boundaries is a prevalent theme that, combining with the aesthetic, creates a space for the spectator to pleasurably escape. Yet, this space is ironically tied to the socio-political context of grim wartime Britain.

Set in Victorian London in the 1870s, Fanny by Gaslight follows the story of Fanny (Phyliss Calvert), an illegitimate daughter of an aristocrat that must overcome the strict social conventions of Victorian society. After the death of her adopted father (John Laurie) at the hands of Lord Manderstroke (James Mason), a malevolent aristocrat, she discovers her true identity and is sent to live with her real father (Stuart Lindsell). After her father’s suicide, she falls in love with Harry and they both have to overcome social stigmas about class. The film culminates in a shootout between Manderstroke and Harry, which proves fatal for the former. Fanny and Harry vow never to leave each other.

The film’s opening scene immerses the spectator into a romantic vision of the past. In a seamless crane shot, the audience glides right from a close-up image of a Victorian street lamp, to a high-angle long shot of a cobbled London street whilst a passer-by sings ‘Molly Malone’. This is a significant juxtaposition to images of a blitzed London that the spectator is used to, and the film indulges in this escape from reality. The viewer is then given access to the taboo space of “The Hopwood Shades”, a brothel owned by Fanny’s adopted father. Throughout the film, this is a continually depicted setting where members of the aristocracy mingle with the lower-class. Of course, it is a signifier of sexual taboo, but aligned with that is also the taboo of these people traversing the boundaries of class that is unthinkable in everyday, Victorian life. Furthermore, the central conflicts of the film and recurring injustices inflicted upon Fanny are grounded in class. Lord Manderstroke is above the law because of his high social standing which results in him consistently inflicting pain on Fanny and the people around her. Her father commits suicide partially because of the fear that the revelation of his illegitimate child of the lower-classes would ruin Fanny’s life and his political career. Additionally, Fanny and Harry, another member of the establishment, have to overcome the social taboo of marrying below classes. The restricting and destructive force of class boundaries is imbedded into the film’s logic, thus the brothel, a space of socially levelling, reinforces the futile nature of class distinctions. By constantly reinforcing the destructive nature of class to the spectator, and considering the context of social levelling in wartime Britain, the film appears to express a desire for the continued loosening of class boundaries.

The film solidifies its stance on class though with Harry’s speech. Speaking to his mother, who is restricting him from seeing Fanny because of her social standing, he declares “It's time people were judged on what they are, not on their parentage…[class distinctions] will be done away with. A hundred years from now – less - there'll be no such thing. If our high-born friends don't like it, so much the worse for them”. All the elements of the argument the film makes about class appear to lead to this moment, echoing the left-wing populism prevalent in the public sphere in 1944. Furthermore, the film reflects the optimistic visions of a post-war welfare state that promised to radically alter British life.

As the conditions of ‘total war’ became a normal part of everyday life, a series of feature films were made that aimed to reflect the realities of the home front and reinforce national unity. These home front films constructed “a specific image of the nation as a community of people united, almost regardless of class, in a common cause” [37]. Films such as Millions Like Us (1943) bound the spectator through a documentary aesthetic, aiming to accurately depict the everyday experience of the audience. Furthermore, as Higson observes, “the documentary film addresses the spectator as a citizen of the nation, not as a subject of one or another antagonistic class, race or sex” [38]. This mode of address is replicated in the home front film, albeit manifested differently according to the conventions of the fiction film. Waterloo Road is a continuation of this tradition but, unlike many of the home front films, it addresses the nation about the possibilities of post-war life, not the everyday realities of the home front.

(Still from 'Waterloo Road')

Beginning in the contemporary of 1945 in Waterloo area of London, the film flashes back to 1941 and reflects life for ordinary people in the home front. The plot revolves around the struggles of marriage during the war, as the wife stays at home whilst the husband was enlisted to fight. Jim (John Mills) receives a letter from his sister (Alison Leggatt) suggesting that his wife, Tilly (Joy Shelton), is engaging in an affair with local entrepreneur and service dodger Ted Purvis (Stewart Granger). Determined to discover the truth, Jim absconds from his regiment and tries to track down Tilly and Purvis whilst being chased by military personnel. After kissing Purvis, Tilly realises that she is making a mistake and tries to leave his house. Jim discovers Purvis grabbing his wife and a fight ensues between them, with Jim winning. The film concludes with the reveal that Tilly has had Jim’s baby, and they both await Jim’s return from combat.

The film begins by focusing on Dr Montgomery (Alastair Sim), an omniscient and wise authority figure who unfolds the flashback narrative from his point-of-view. Clearly influenced by the documentary tradition, Montgomery is a variation of the voice-of-God narrator, occupying a position of absolute wisdom and authority. Yet, because of the demands of the fiction film, he refrains from full narration and instead is oddly inserted throughout the film to directly convey socio-political messages. Nonetheless, as he walks down a street with houses surrounded by rubble, his voice-over narration invites the spectator to reflect on the war effort, “Here in London people waged a whole campaign, and won it”. Coupling this voice-over with an image of the physical destruction of war reminds the audience of their collective suffering, and is ultimately engaging with the nation as a whole. Furthermore, it repeats the ultimate message of home front films, which is, a call for national unity that transgresses social boundaries. By subsequently flashing back, it is asking the audience to reflect on the victory of war and how it was won through social solidarity and unified resistance.

Throughout the film, Ted Purvis is characterised as unpatriotic and representative of selfish individualism, the ideological antithesis of wartime collectivism. This is most significant in a small moment towards the beginning as, getting ready in an air raid shelter, he makes a smug comment about dodging tax. Furthermore, the doctor even refers to him as “a symptom of a general condition” later on, that general condition being dangerous individualism that is antithesis to the post-war consensus. Ultimately, through the filter of the Doctor, Gilliat communicates with the spectator by using images and interacting with events that are ingrained in the collective memory of Britain. Furthermore, these is an attempt to remind the audience of the powers of collectivism and how its enemy, individualism, will only hinder post-war Britain.

In conclusion, both films interact with contemporary social issues such as class and the welfare state with the purpose of expressing a clear socio-political message that is relevant to the spectator. However, both films communicate this message in different ways that is respective to the aesthetic traditions they are rooted in. Waterloo Road is the most direct in its mode of address that, because of the significant desire among many people for an escape from the dullness of everyday life, became increasingly outdated and therefore less successful in expessing social commentary. On the other hand, the popular appeal of the costume drama, and also the exotic spaces of escape that it constructed, gave Fanny by Gaslight a distance from everyday life whilst still being able to comment on contemporary issues. Ultimately, both films reflect how the nation was collectively contemplating a future that was hoped to bring stability, or possibly a new order, after years of rapid and chaotic change.

Citations [1]Paul Addison, “The Impact of the Second World War”, in A Companion to Contemporary Britain: 1939-2000, ed. Paul Addison and Harriet Jones (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2007), 6. [2] Michael Brook. “British Film in the 1940s”. BFI Screenonline. http://www.screenonline.org.uk/film/id/1357301/ (09 January, 2019). [3] Pam Cook, Fashioning the Nation: Costume and Identity in British Cinema (London: British Film Institute, 1996), 11. [4] Andrew Higson, “Britain’s Outstanding Contribution to the Film: The Documentary-Realist Tradition”, in All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British Cinema, ed. Charles Barr. (London: British Film Institute, 1992), 81. [5] Paul Addison, “The Impact of the Second World War”, in A Companion to Contemporary Britain: 1939-2000, ed. Paul Addison and Harriet Jones (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2007), 4. [6] Malcolm Smith “The Changing Nature of the British State, 1929-59: the Historiography of Consensus”, in What Difference Did the War Make?, ed. Brian Bravati and Harriet Jones (London: Leicester University Press, 1993), 41. [7] Paul Addison “The Impact of the Second World War”, in A Companion to Contemporary Britain: 1939-2000, ed. Paul Addison and Harriet Jones (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2007), 13. [8] Idib. [9] Nick Hayes, “An ‘English War’, Wartime Culture and ‘Millions Like Us’”, in ‘Millions Like Us’?: British Culture in the Second World War, ed. Nick Hayes and Jeff Hill, (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999), 2. [10] T. O. Lloyd, Empire to Welfare State: English History: 1906-1985 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986), 251. [11] Addison, A Companion to Contemporary Britain: 1939-2000, 4. [12] T. O. Lloyd, Empire to Welfare State: English History: 1906-1985 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986), 244. [13] Lloyd, Empire to Welfare State: English History: 1906-1985, 253. [14] Idib. [15] Lloyd, Empire to Welfare State: English History: 1906-1985, 246. [16] Angus Calder, The People’s War: Britain 1939-1945 (London: Pimlico, 1992), 405. [17] Lloyd, Empire to Welfare State: English History: 1906-1985, 246. [18] Calder, The People’s War: Britain 1939-1945, 405. [19] Lloyd, Empire to Welfare State: English History: 1906-1985, 250. [20] Paul Addison “The Impact of the Second World War”, in A Companion to Contemporary Britain: 1939-2000, ed. Paul Addison and Harriet Jones (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2007), 8. [21] Angus Calder, The People’s War: Britain 1939-1945 (London: Pimlico, 1992), 392. [22] Mass Observation Online. “Post War Hopes, January 1944 - December 1944, Mass Observation Archive. University of Sussex Special Collections. http://www.massobservation.amdigital.co.uk/Documents/Images/TopicCollection-40/1#Sections (03 January, 2019). [23] Addison, A Companion to Contemporary Britain: 1939-2000, 13. [24] Idib. [25] Kevin Jeffreys, “The Beveridge Report and Reconstruction”, in ‘War and Reform: British Politics During the Second World War, ed. Kevin Jeffreys, (Manchester: Manchester University Press), 94. [26] Angus Calder, The People’s War: Britain 1939-1945 (London: Pimlico, 1992), 528. [27] Kevin Jeffreys, “The Beveridge Report and Reconstruction”, in ‘War and Reform: British Politics During the Second World War, ed. Kevin Jeffreys, (Manchester: Manchester University Press), 99. [28] Angus Calder, The People’s War: Britain 1939-1945 (London: Pimlico, 1992), 531. [29] Christine Gledhill, “’An Abundance of Understatement’: Documentary, Melodrama and Romance”, in Nationalising Femininity: Culture, Sexuality and British Cinema in the Second World War, ed. by Christine Gledhill and Gillian Swanson (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996), 231. [30] James Chapman, “British Cinema and ‘the People’s War’”, in ‘Millions Like Us’?: British Culture in the Second World War, ed. Nick Hayes and Jeff Hill, (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999), 33. [31] Sue Harper, Picturing the Past: The Rise and Fall of the British Costume Film (London: British Film Institute, 1994), 122. [32] Andrew Higson, “Britain’s Outstanding Contribution to the Film: The Documentary-Realist Tradition”, in All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British Cinema, ed. Charles Barr. (London: British Film Institute, 1992), 74. [33] Pam Cook, Fashioning the Nation: Costume and Identity in British Cinema (London: British Film Institute, 1996), 17. [34] Sue Harper, Picturing the Past: The Rise and Fall of the British Costume Film (London: British Film Institute, 1994), 132 [35] Harper, Picturing the Past: The Rise and Fall of the British Costume Film, 131. [36] Marcia Landy, British Genres: Cinema and Society, 1930-196. (New Jersey: Princeton University Press), 196. [37] Andrew Higson, “Five Films”, in National Fictions: World War Two in British Films and Television, ed. by Geoff Hurd (London: British Film Institute), 22. [38] Andrew Higson, “Britain’s Outstanding Contribution to the Film: The Documentary-Realist Tradition”, in All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British Cinema, ed. Charles Barr. (London: British Film Institute, 1992), p.77.

Bibliography

Addison, Paul;. “The Impact of the Second World War”. Chap. 1 in A Companion to Contemporary Britain: 1939-2000, edited by Harriet Jones and Paul Addison. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2007. Calder, Angus. The People’s War: Britain 1939-1945. London: Pimlico, 1992. Chapman, James. “British Cinema and ‘the People’s War’”. Chap. 1 in ‘Millions Like Us’?: British Culture in the Second World War, edited by Nick Hayes and Jeff Hill. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999. Cook, Pam. Fashioning the Nation: Costume and Identity in British Cinema. London: British Film Institute, 1996. Harper, Sue. Picturing the Past: The Rise and Fall of the British Costume Film. London: British Film Institute, 1994. Higson, Andrew. “Five Films”, in National Fictions: World War Two in British Films and Television, edited by Geoff Hurd. London: British Film Institute. Higson, Andrew. “Britain’s Outstanding Contribution to the Film: The Documentary-Realist Tradition”. Chap. 3 in All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British Cinema, edited by Charles Barr. London: British Film Institute, 1992. Gledhill, Christine. “’An Abundance of Understatement’: Documentary, Melodrama and Romance”. Chap. 13 in Nationalising Femininity: Culture, Sexuality and British Cinema in the Second World War, edited by Chirstine Gledhill and Gillian Swanson. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996. Hayes, Nick. “An ‘English War’, Wartime Culture and ‘Millions Like Us’”. Chap. 1 in ‘Millions Like Us’?: British Culture in the Second World War, edited by Nick Hayes and Jeff Hill. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1999. Jeffreys, Kevin. “The Beveridge Report and Reconstruction”. Chap. 4 in ‘War and Reform: British Politics During the Second World War, edited by Kevin Jeffreys. Manchester: Manchester University Press. Landy, Marcia. British Genres: Cinema and Society, 1930-1960. New Jersey: Princeton University Press. Lloyd, T. O. Empire to Welfare State: English History: 1906-1985. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986 Smith, Malcolm. “The Changing Nature of the British State, 1929-59: the Historiography of Consensus”. Chap. 3 in What Difference Did the War Make?, edited by Brian Bravati and Harriet Jones. London: Leicester University Press, 1993.

Websites

Brook, Michael. “British Film in the 1940s”. BFI Screenonline. http://www.screenonline.org.uk/film/id/1357301/ (09 January, 2019).

Mass Observation Online. “Post War Hopes, January 1944 - December 1944, Mass Observation Archive. University of Sussex Special Collections. http://www.massobservation.amdigital.co.uk/Documents/Images/TopicCollection-40/1#Sections (03 January, 2019).

Filmography

Fanny by Gaslight, Anthony Asquith, 1944. Millions Like Us, Sidney Gilliat and Frank Launder, 1943. Waterloo Road, Sidney Gilliat, 1945.