Censoring the 1970s : The BBFC and the Decade that Taste Forgot [1 ed.] 9781443833974, 9781443833493

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Censoring the 1970s : The BBFC and the Decade that Taste Forgot [1 ed.]
 9781443833974, 9781443833493

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Censoring the 1970s

Censoring the 1970s: The BBFC and the Decade that Taste Forgot

By

Sian Barber

Censoring the 1970s: The BBFC and the Decade that Taste Forgot, by Sian Barber This book first published 2011 Cambridge Scholars Publishing 12 Back Chapman Street, Newcastle upon Tyne, NE6 2XX, UK British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Copyright © 2011 by Sian Barber All rights for this book reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. ISBN (10): 1-4438-3349-5, ISBN (13): 978-1-4438-3349-3

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgements ................................................................................... vii Abbreviations ............................................................................................. ix Introduction ................................................................................................. 1 Why Do We Censor? Part I: The Trevelyan Years (1970-1971) Chapter One............................................................................................... 17 Power, Patronage and Policy Chapter Two .............................................................................................. 29 Getting it Right and Wrong Chapter Three ............................................................................................ 41 A Poisoned Chalice Part II: The Murphy Years (1971-1975) Chapter Four .............................................................................................. 55 An Uneasy Inheritance Chapter Five .............................................................................................. 67 The Censorship Crisis Chapter Six ................................................................................................ 79 Weathering the Storm Part III: The Ferman Years (1975-1980) Chapter Seven............................................................................................ 93 Policy Shifts

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Table of Contents

Chapter Eight........................................................................................... 107 To Deprave and Corrupt Chapter Nine............................................................................................ 119 New Challenges Conclusion............................................................................................... 133 Into the Eighties Appendix ................................................................................................. 145 List of Cut Films Bibliography ............................................................................................ 147

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to acknowledge the help and support of a number of people in making this book possible. None of the research would have been possible without the cooperation and friendliness of the British Board of Film Classification. In particular I would like to thank Fiona Liddell and Edward Lamberti for their enthusiasm and support over the past five years and for allowing me access to the files. I would also like to thank Nathalie Morris and Jonny Davies at the BFI Special Collections for allowing me to see the James Ferman papers. I would also like to thank Sue Harper who first suggested this book to me as an idea and to Sally Shaw for reading sections of the text and offering useful feedback. My gratitude also extends to Patti Gaal-Holmes for generously allowing me to use still images from her super 8 film ‘black’ for the cover of this work. Finally, thanks to Paul for his continued support.

ABBREVIATIONS

BBFC

British Board of Film Censors, later the British Board of Film, Classification

OPA

The Obscene Publications Act which was extended to include film in 1977

PCA

The Protection of Children Act 1978

ITA

Independent Television Authority which became the Independent Broadcasting Authority in 1972

BFI

British Film Institute

INTRODUCTION WHY DO WE CENSOR?

“The case for film censorship is really the case for editorial control in the only important medium of communication which is governed almost exclusively by the profit motive.” —James Ferman, Secretary of the BBFC, 1976.1

Debates about censorship are always bound up with issues of morality, control and permission and closely allied to broader social and cultural patterns. Film censorship relates closely to the tastes and changing notions of acceptability within a given society at a specific time. Within this work I want to examine a particularly contentious period in recent British history when individual films and the activities of the British Board of Film Censors (BBFC) consistently made headlines: the 1970s. In focussing on the 1970s period, my purpose is to consider what and why the BBFC censored and what this indicates about contemporary concerns and anxieties. 1970s Britain was an unstable and uncertain decade characterised by political uncertainty and economic instability. Sometimes referred to as “the decade that taste forgot”, the 1970s is frequently cited as one of the cultural nadirs of recent times. Flares, platform shoes, Carry On films, ABBA and the Bay City Rollers are just a few of the low-culture signifiers which traditional accounts of this decade repeatedly reference. Yet recent scholarship has begun to challenge understandings and perceptions of the 1970s as simply a decade of political unrest, economic depression and little or no culture. The representation of the 1970s within the massively popular BBC series Life on Mars (2006-2007) tapped into a popular nostalgia for this era, and helped contribute to the process of cultural reevaluation.

1 James Ferman letter dated 16 Jan 1976 from file JF/4 of the Ferman papers accessed from the BFI Special Collections.

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Introduction

Narratives of 1970s British film censorship appear to be firmly fixed and well-established. James Robertson’s important work on the BBFC, explores this decade in relation to a number of key texts, notably A Clockwork Orange (1971) and The Devils (1971), but only considers a few films and covers the first half of the decade.2 Tom Mathews offers some useful analysis, but his work is based closely upon the findings of Robertson, while studies of film censorship such as those by Guy Phelps from 1975, lack the benefits of hindsight.3 The rigorous investigations of Martin Barker and Julian Petley into censorship and the media situate the work of the BBFC within broader discussions of freedom of speech and the legal framework, while Petley’s most recent work maps the evolution of the censorship debate from the end of the 1970s to the present day, but pays little attention to BBFC activity in the early part of this most contentious decade. 4 The BBFC as an organisation is often the absent present in debates about censorship, with a great deal of attention frequently being given to the way the Board’s actions were represented in the press. This work seeks to address this imbalance by returning to the BBFC’s own archive files and using this material to reposition the organisation within the censorship debate. The archive files offer a variety of evidence which sheds light on the moral climate of a complex cultural period and these memos, reports and notes reveal how extensively classification decisions related to the broader social climate and contemporary concerns. Discussions about censorship still occupy a central place in the national consciousness and the concerns identified in the 1970s, notably those pertaining to the protection of children and worries about damaging and harmful content remain heavily present today. In June 2011 the Bailey Review, undertaken by the Christian group Mothers’ Union, identified clothes, stationery, window displays, cards and magazines which, they felt, commercialised and sexualised children. The review received support from Prime Minster David Cameron, who observed, “I support this 2

James C Robertson, The Hidden Cinema: British Film Censorship 1913-1972 (London: Routledge, 1989) 3 T.D Mathews, Censored: What they didn’t allow you to see and why. The Story of Film Censorship in Britain. (London: Chatto and Windus Ltd, 1994) and Guy Phelps Film Censorship (London: Victor Gallancz Ltd, 1975). 4 Martin Barker and Julian Petley, Ill-effects: The Media Violence Debate (London: Routledge 2001), Julian Petley, Film and Video Censorship in Modern Britain (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2011).

Why Do We Censor?

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emphasis, as it is consistent with this government's overall approach.”5 Although he stopped short of agreeing to suggestions that reforms should be enforced through legislation Cameron claimed “[it is] my long-held belief that the leading force for progress should be social responsibility, not state control.”6 Such statements neatly support the case for restriction of the visual image yet stop short of advocating and approving outright state censorship. Such an electorate-pleasing strategy fits firmly with an established and frequently referenced right-wing agenda of “cleaning up” society, of seeking to protect the young and vulnerable and attempting to prevent the corruption of minds and morals. This approach is, of course, laudable. After all, no-one wishes to see children sexualised or corrupted. But this strategy suffers from two basic flaws. Firstly, attacking popular culture and seeing broader cultural forms as responsible for a range of social problems is simplistic. Secondly, it is unrealistic to attempt to protect members of society from that which exists within a broader society - effectively trying to protect society from itself.. Numerous studies have sought to prove a link between behaviour and visual culture - but none have been able to do so with absolute authority. One of the central concerns within analyses of film and media culture is the link between the text and the spectator. As Christian Metz has suggested, what the spectator experiences is an ‘impression of reality’ and it is this which has proved so difficult to firmly define, particularly in terms of influence and deviant behaviour.7 The way in which individual audience members respond to what they see on screen is one of the most debated, compelling and complicated aspects of film and media studies. One of the few things which can be recognised is that establishing the power and influence of the visual medium is by no means straightforward. Seeking to protect and control culture by restricting material and imposing sanctions upon what can and cannot be shown, purchased or experienced is an approach which is as old as the censorship debate itself and sorely tests the boundaries of freedom of speech in a modern Western nation. 5

Polly Curtis, ‘David Cameron backs proposals tackling sexualisation of children: Prime Minister supports Mothers' Union report, but insists change comes through 'social responsibility, not state control' The Guardian, Monday 6 June 2011 accessed from www.guardian.co.uk 6 Ibid. 7 Christian Metz, Film Language: A Semiotics of the Cinema; translated by Michael Taylor (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 4

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Introduction

Protecting specific social groups from inappropriate material is a method which, if executed vigorously and conscientiously, can ensure that underage children do not watch 18 certificate films or videos, or purchase alcohol or cigarettes. But these legislative safeguards are very specific instances where the law is used to protect vulnerable members of society, rather than to prevent adults from making discerning choices about what they wish to consume, purchase or experience. The law protects the vulnerable through a series of specific measures, but what the Bailey Review drew attention to in 2011 greatly resembles the Mary Whitehouseled “Clean Up TV” campaign of the 1960s, which in turn was echoed in the right wing press during the video nasty debacle in the 1980s and the hysteria surrounding the Bulger and the Capper cases in the 1990s. All of these efforts advocated controlling cultural forms through legislation, ignoring the significant role already played by organisations such as the BBFC in acting as a buffer between film content and audiences. Legislation cannot control culture. It can restrict what people see, purchase or consume but the cultural forms which transgress will still exist. This certainty is made even more convincing in the modern age by the pervasive sway of the internet which allows anyone to access anything they choose regardless of whether it is suitable, appropriate or potentially harmful. Debates about the influence of the visual image on the young and the impressionable have a long history within Britain. In 1958 the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police Sir John Nott-Bower stated that he believed violence in films, on television and in other media had led to an increase in crime. He noted that the press, cinema and all forms of publicity seems to concentrate a great deal on crime and violence and that in his view had ‘a bad effect, particularly on young impressionable minds.’8 The debate rumbled on throughout the 1960s and came to a head with a print media furore in the early 1970s which targeted films by Stanley Kubrick, Sam Peckinpah and Ken Russell. In response to the public outcry, the Home Office commissioned a study into “Screen Violence and Film Censorship.” The findings were published in 1977 and author Stephen Brody confirmed that no conclusive or firm link could be found between screen violence and deviant behaviour. The report observed cautiously: 8

Sir John Nott-Bower quoted in ‘Film Violence as Crime Stimulus: Police Commissioner on “Bad Effects”’ The Times, Monday 17 March 1958, 16. Accessed via Lexus Nexus on 13 July 2011

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Children and young people may find graphic scenes of violence disturbing and could provoke reactions within the audience of disgust and fear. It is for this reason that retaining the system of classification is strongly advocated.9

The popular press has always been keen to prove the link between acts of deviance and popular visual culture and continuously and erroneously cites the influence of film, television and video games on behaviour as if it were an established and accepted principle. Without evidence of a firm link, the presiding judge in the 1993 James Bulger case suggested that extreme videos may have influenced the behaviour of the two boys responsible for his murder. Although it was never conclusively proven that the boys had ever seen Childs Play 3 (1993) the film became inextricably linked with the case and extreme videos began to be cited as one of the key influences upon their behaviour. Here it is possible to see a society seeking answers in the wake of an appalling crime. But some of the claims subsequently made by psychologists and by the media are frighteningly blasé, notably those put forward by the high-profile and oft-cited Newson report. The report’s claim that “the principle that what is experienced vicariously will have some effect on some people is an established one” failed to take into account the complexities of the media violence debate.10 The idea that watching specific acts of violence leads people to mimic what they see is highly contentious and takes no account of additional forces such as family background, mental state, predisposition and personal free will.11 The 1994 report was quickly challenged by Guy Cumberbatch, a psychologist from Aston University who argued that the Newson report was based upon “speculation fuelled by the popular press.”12 Cumberbatch also pointed out that the report had been commissioned by Liberal MP 9

Stephen Brody, Screen Violence and Film Censorship, Home Office Research Study No 40, HMSO, 1977 cited in Annabel Ferriman ‘No Clear Evidence that screen violence leads to similar acts by audience’ The Times, Thursday 8 September 1977, 8. Accessed via Lexus Nexus on 13 July 2011. 10 Elizabeth Newson ‘Video Violence and the Protection of Children’ Journal of Mental Health (1994) 3, 224. 11 Academic responses to the Newson Report and a discussion of the wider debate can be found in Ill-effects: The Media/Violence Debate, (eds) Martin Barker and Julian Petley (London: Routledge 2001). 12 Guy Cumberbatch, ‘Legislating Mythology: Video Violence and Children’ in Journal of Mental Health (1994) 3, 485.

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Introduction

David Alton to help support his crusade for further controls on violent videos, making it part of a wider political debate.13 Alton’s proposed amendment to the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act suggested the banning of videos which offered “inappropriate role models” to children as well as any likely to cause “psychological damage.”14 The arguments mobilised in this most high profile of cases were based upon old arguments about the influence of the media which had existed since the creation of film itself. However in the 1990s, unlike in earlier periods, the BBFC were able to engage fully with the censorship debate, rather than simply being held accountable. In 1994, then Director of the BBFC James Ferman offered some sympathetic yet sensible words of wisdom, commenting: The invention of video means most families have a cinema in their sitting room - and some in their bedrooms, too - with no box office to turn away those under age… The power of the BBFC has been replaced by the authority of the parent. In a democracy, that is the way it has to be. But how many parents use that authority? There is only so much the BBFC can do. We have to help parents look after their children. It is vital that parents take responsibility for what their children watch.15

Ferman was drawing clear lines between what was society’s problem and what the BBFC was responsible for. The struggle between freedom of expression and the need to protect the vulnerable is at the centre of all debates about censorship and the work of the BBFC is, and always has been, to balance these two opposing viewpoints and find a middle ground. This becomes particularly difficult when specific films attract press attention and become inextricably linked to particular crimes and behaviour. In the wake of horrific events, knee-jerk reactions and calls for reform as well as the apportioning of blame are typical. This brief foray through censorship scandals of the recent past has indicated how little the terms of reference which inform the censorship debate have altered; allowances are made for new technologies and new forms of viewing, but the central debates remain the same. However the 13

David Alton’s crusade against these films fitted in with his agenda as a ‘moral entrepreneur’ and he also campaigned for changes to the abortion laws. 14 Cited in Guy Cumberbatch, ‘Legislating mythology’ op. cit. 15 James Ferman, ‘Do you care what your children watch on Video?’ Mail on Sunday, March 28, 1993, 20. Accessed via Lexus Nexus on 13 July 2011.

Why Do We Censor?

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BBFC has changed dramatically in the last forty years, receiving statutory powers for the first time under the 1984 Video Recordings Act, and vastly expanding its scope and responsibilities in the 1980s. Founded by the film industry in 1912 to monitor the new medium, the BBFC was a body without legal or Governmental authority whose job was to represent the industry and ensure that material passed for exhibition in cinemas was suitable for the general public. By the 1970s, it was an established organisation, but one whose legal position was frequently cited as an anomaly and whose decisions, policy and composition were often questioned. Writing in 1969, Neville Hunnings suggested that the BBFC’s regulation of the arts was “paternalistic rather than liberal”, a comment which reveals much about the way the organisation operated and the way in which it was perceived to operate.16 Writing in 1968 Peter Lloyd suggested that along with the Lord Chamberlain: The British Board of Film Censors gives no sign of systematically seeking to preserve any particular standards. They seem primarily concerned with gauging what will prove acceptable to the reasonably ‘broad-minded’ middle class audience.17

Lloyd claimed that the work of the BBFC was informed by largely “patrician assumptions” about public morality and popular taste.18 These patrician assumptions were also alluded to by former BBFC Secretary John Trevelyan who retired in 1971 and who wrote in his memoirs that, “in judging films we therefore take into account not only our opinions on what was or what was not suitable but also what we sometimes called ‘the public social conscience.”19 Yet such an approach is highly subjective; the public social conscience is not a fixed and stable certainty but rather is constantly shifting and evolving. It is also important to identify that although the issues surrounding film censorship remain consistent, the way in which the BBFC is held to account within different decades and over specific events indicates how censorship issues are constantly repositioned by the press, government and by pressure groups. Any organisation whose brief is to censor has to move with the times in order to avoid appearing ridiculous. Yet how can this be achieved? The audience 16 Neville Hunnings “Censorship: On the Way Out?” Sight and Sound 37: 4 (1969) 201 17 Peter Lloyd, Not for Publication (London: Bow Publishing, March 1968) 6 18 Ibid. 8 19 John Trevelyan, What the Censor Saw (London: Michael Joseph Ltd, 1973) 81

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Introduction

is not a homogenous mass with easily discernible likes and dislikes, but rather a collection of individuals who respond in vastly different ways to the material which they elect to see. One of the few certainties of the censorship debate is that what may offend or disturb one audience member may have no effect upon another. As previous studies of film censorship have identified, the curious anomaly about film censorship in Britain is that it remains in place at all. The model of film censorship in Britain is highly unusual in that it was specifically designed so that the BBFC could be independent of Government. This was not the case with the theatre, which instituted formalised Government censorship through the office of the Lord Chamberlain in 1737. Yet theatre censorship had already been in place for at least 200 years prior to the extension of the Lord Chamberlain’s responsibilities. As Thomas, Carlson and Etienne point out, during the reign of Henry VIII the Master of the Revels viewed all plays intended for the entertainment of the monarch to ensure that the standard of performance was fit for the ruler.20 Interestingly, vetting plays in this way allowed the Master of the Revels to be less of a censor and more an arbiter of taste and a judge of quality. This is very similar to the way in which the BBFC perceived itself in the 20th Century. Although vigorously denying that its decisions made it an arbiter of taste, the BBFC’s work to ensure that films received the correct classification were heavily influenced by what they as individuals and a collective, considered to be acceptable, tasteful and permissible. A good example of this approach can be found in the files for Lindsay Anderson’s seminal film If… (1968) where an exchange between John Trevelyan, head of the BBFC and Anderson indicate where the sympathies of the organisation lay. Upon seeing the film and prior to it being classified Trevelyan wrote to Anderson, “the film has made a considerable impression on me… what I do feel is that this film has something important to say, and I hope that its message will not be obscured or weakened at any point.”21 Anderson responded to Trevelyan’s comments and thanked him for the time he had taken to consider the film, noting, “I

20

David Thomas, David Carlton and Anne Etienne, Theatre Censorship from Walpole to Wilson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007) 7. 21 John Trevelyan to Lindsay Anderson, letter dated 1 July 1968, BBFC file for If…

Why Do We Censor?

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appreciate greatly that the overall impression of integrity and seriousness which the film makes should count in its assessment.”22 This brief example indicates that the BBFC as an organisation and Trevelyan as an individual were clearly swayed by the quality, significance and importance of Anderson’s work and so were making a classification decision based upon their own tastes. In light of this very personal response to a film, it is ironic that in the same year such an approach based upon individual standards and personal judgement was no longer deemed suitable for the theatre. In 1968 theatre censorship was finally abolished and the archaic role of the Lord Chamberlain in vetting material for the public stage was removed. Paradoxically, despite its anomalous role, in the late 1960s the honourable intentions of the BBFC as an organisation were recognised and as Peter Lloyd observed, “compared with the Lord Chamberlain’s office, the BBFC appears large-minded and flexible.”23 But even in the liberalising atmosphere of Britain in the 1960s, there was no question that film censorship would be abolished. The two media were viewed in very different ways; for Lloyd, the Lord Chamberlain’s role in censoring the theatre appeared to be “philistine and negative” while the work of the BBFC possessed an aura of “respectable progressivism.”24 The pages of Hansard detail how MPs called for freedom of expression on the stage yet there were no such similar calls for the abolition of film censorship.25 It was recognised then, as it is recognised now, that film is a unique medium and its potential to influence is extremely high. This work begins at the crucial historical moment in the late 1960s when the abolition of theatre censorship abruptly called into question the precise role and operation of the BBFC. The 1970s was a difficult time for the BBFC and it is easy to appreciate the complications which ensued when the liberal left clashed with the Festival of Light over A Clockwork Orange or Straw Dogs (1971) or how religious organisations banded together and wrote to local councils urging them to ban Life of Brian 22

Lindsay Anderson to John Trevelyan, letter dated 25 August 1968. Ibid. Peter Lloyd, Not for Publication (London: Bow Publishing, 1968) 22. 24 Ibid. 25 Hansard reveals debates about abolition of theatre censorship, but only a few references made to film censorship and the BBFC in the subsequent years. Parliamentary questions were raised on the role of the BBFC and the system for censoring films in 1973, 1974, 1975 and 1976, yet there was no debate about the issues raised and the system continued unchallenged. 23

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Introduction

(1979). However, in this period the BBFC was not solely concerned with a mere handful of contentious texts. In any given year in the 1970s, the BBFC certificated between 400 and 750 films.26 When the Board was grappling with The Devils it was also working to ensure the correct classification for Carry On At Your Convenience (1971) and On the Buses (1971). Film scholarship has begun to reappraise neglected texts from the 1970s and this work seeks to build on this trend. Peter Hutchings’ work on Hammer Horror, Steve Chibnall’s consideration of Pete Walker and Ian Hunter’s work on sexploitation have all focused attention on neglected texts of the period, while industrial studies have identified the diversity of production and drawn attention to fluctuations in Government funding and burgeoning militant trade unionism.27 Work by Justin Smith builds on that undertaken by Sarah Street and Margaret Dickinson, Ernest Betts, Bill Baillieu and John Goodchild which all address the complexities of the film industry in this period.28 My own work focuses on the operation, organisation and day to day activity of the BBFC throughout the 1970s. The Board’s work in classifying films for exhibition in Britain can be carefully mapped through the individual film files which exist within the archives of the Board in Soho Square. Two hundred and fifty film files form the body of this work while supporting material has also been gathered from the personal papers of James Ferman held within the BFI Special Collections and files pertaining to censorship from The National Archive. This material has 26

Figures taken from http://www.bbfc.org/classification/statistics/ Peter Hutchings, “The Problem of British Horror” in Horror: The Film Reader, ed. Mark Jancovich (London: Routledge, 2002), 117-124 and Hammer and Beyond: The British Horror Film (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1993), Steve Chibnall, “A Heritage of Evil: Pete Walker and the Politics of Gothic Revisionism” in S. Chibnall and J. Petley (eds), British Horror Cinema (London: Routledge, 2002), pp. 156-171, Hunter, I.Q. “Take an Easy Ride: Sexploitation in the 1970s” Seventies British Cinema, Ed. Robert Shail. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. 28 Justin Smith, “Glam, Spam and Uncle Sam: funding diversity in British film production of the 1970s” in Seventies British Cinema, ed. Robert Shail (London: BFI/Palgrave Macmillan) 67-80. Ernest Betts, The Film Business (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1973). Margaret Dickinson and Sarah Street, Cinema and State: The Film Industry and the British Government 1927–1984 (London: BFI Publishing, 1985). Bill Baillieu and John Goodchild, The British Film Business (Chichester: John Wiley and Sons, 2002). 27

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been used to provide an account of an organisation which worked to allocate the correct category to every film submitted while retaining its independence and avoiding the perils of state censorship. However a work such as this can only attempt to understand and contextualise the censorship decisions which were made and to use these decisions to offer tentative conclusions about the society into which these films were released. The films selected for study represent a small proportion of those submitted to the Board and some of the examples are drawn from outside the traditional parameters of the decade. Decades are not neat and standalone entities and when considering an organisation such as the BBFC which has long institutional as well as cultural roots, an approach which recognises “the long 1970s” based on a model proposed by Arthur Marwick is appropriate.29 I have quoted extensively from some film files and referred to others only in passing. Some of the material is rich and detailed and offers new and exciting insights into the period, while other files have failed to yield any new information or are disappointingly matter of fact. Other files are missing altogether. Some files contain nothing but an official note of the certificate granted to the film and the monies paid, while others are stuffed with letters of complaint and extensive correspondence. Presented with such a range of source material, some of it sensitive or inflammatory, I have endeavoured to use it in an ethical and considered manner. As a result all the BBFC examiners and members of the public are referred to anonymously while those quoted and named occupied formal positions within production, exhibition and distribution companies. Interviews do not form part of this work for the simple reason that the research is based upon the archive rather than the memories of those who initially made classification decisions. This is the study of an organisation, and its purpose is not to recount the anecdotal memories of BBFC staff and examiners. In asking people to recall events which took place 30 years ago, it is inevitable that memories will become cloudy and accounts will change over time. It is also important to consider that in retelling or recalling past events, “the narrator not only recalls the past but also asserts his or her interpretation of the past.”30 Interviews are not only about facts, but are rather about how the interviewee interprets and relays information 29

Arthur Marwick, Culture in Britain Since 1945 (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1991). Robert Perks and Alistair Thomson, The Oral History Reader (London: Routledge, 1998), p. ix.

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Introduction

through the filter of memory. Crucially too for the purposes of this work, perhaps former BBFC examiners would remember the standout cases, but may have limited memory of their responses to Eskimo Nell (1975) or Warlords of Atlantis (1978). This work is not just about 1970s films and avoids using detailed textual analysis of the films to draw conclusions. Instead it situates debates about individual censorship decisions firmly within an institutional context. Undertaking this work was not simply a case of looking at formal BBFC policy from the decade and then mapping the decisions made alongside it. Such a policy did not exist within the BBFC in the 1970s and this absence allowed for classification decisions to be made on a case by case, ad-hoc basis. Partly due to this absence of formal policy, I have also deliberately avoided a detailed consideration of the BBFC’s approach to films which focus on specific issues, such as race. This is not because the material itself offers little of interest, but rather that my task is to map the broader activities of the organisation and not focus upon specific issues to the exclusion of everything else. I have used examples where appropriate to indicate the BBFC response and evaluation of films which explore racial, sexual, national and gendered identity, yet have not sought to read the archive from a single perspective. Adopting a chronological approach has allowed me to map change over time and investigate the shifting patterns of taste within broader society as well as the personal prejudices and changing attitudes of the Board and those responsible for carrying out its policy. While a great deal of attention is given to the views of Chief Censors John Trevelyan, Stephen Murphy and James Ferman, the views of the individual examiners are also crucially important. However for the purposes of preserving their anonymity, the comments referenced and reported in this work are not attributed to specific individuals. During the late 1970s, James Ferman would discuss the composition of the examining team more openly, usually to make a point about the diversity of background and experience at the Board. However throughout the decade, the anonymity of these figures was preserved. Three female examiners feature through the 1970s, along with four male examiners. We know from later documentation that one of these, Ken Penry became Assistant Secretary of the BBFC in 1975 and took on more responsibility and a more public role. During the investigations of the Government appointed Williams Committee into film censorship in 1977, more attention was given to how

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the examiners were recruited and what kinds of people the BBFC employed. The BBFC submission to the Committee revealed: From the beginning the examining team has never numbered more than 4 or 5 of which 1 or 2 tended to be part time. On the retirement of a full time examiner in 1976, the Board decided to engage as part timers, two women with professional experience in the field of child care, a lecturer in Child Psychology at Reading University and the other a specialist in remedial teaching with 5 years experience on charge of pastoral care for disadvantaged girls.31

Throughout the 1970s, the comments and decisions of the seven board members offer an intriguing insight into the work of the BBFC. In the absence of formal policy documents, the film examination reports for individual films, internal memos, letters of complaint and justification, recorded disagreements on specific films and public announcements reveal the workings of the Board. This approach also allows the analysis to move beyond the texts as objects of study and approach draws upon what Marc Bloch suggests is a key part of the research process, specifically, “that which the text tells us expressly has ceased to be the primary object of our attention today… we prick up our ears far more eagerly when we are permitted to overhear what was never intended to be said.”32 Of course one must be careful of such an approach for many of the documents used within this work are simply part of the internal workings of the BBFC and were perhaps never intended to be used to analyse its approach to different films or its overarching policy. Yet a close reading of the archive can offer a great deal for the scholar of censorship and in the absence of a range of other sources pertaining to this independent organisation, the rich and varied archive material is crucial for understanding the decisions made. The position of the BBFC is still anomalous in modern Britain, yet by understanding the Board’s history and the way in which it adapted to meet specific challenges in a complex and uncertain climate actively increases our understanding of the censorship debate. This re-examination of the 1970s uses the extensive and underused archive material to offer fresh

31

BBFC submission to the Williams Committee, TNA file HO 265 / 2. Marc Bloch, The Historian’s Craft (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1992, 7th Edition), 52.

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Introduction

insights into the work of a film industry body during a precarious political, economic and cultural period.

PART I: THE TREVELYAN YEARS (1970-1971)

CHAPTER ONE POWER, PATRONAGE AND POLICY

At the start of the 1970s, John Trevelyan was at the helm of the BBFC. A former educational administrator with a public school background, Trevelyan had joined the BBFC in 1951 and became Secretary in 1959.1 He was widely respected in film industry and government circles for his tact, diplomacy and significant PR skills and he steered the BBFC through the troubled waters of the “Swinging Sixties”.2 On his watch, nudity, flashes of pubic hair and increasing violence all appeared on film, with the proviso that the films concerned were all made with integrity. Trevelyan worked hard to establish cordial relations with the film industry, but he was also keenly aware that the censorship process involved working alongside local councils, central government, pressure groups and the press. Trevelyan’s views on censorship are perhaps the best known of all BBFC Secretaries. His autobiography was published in 1973, 18 months after he left the Board and he was a regular on the lecture circuit. However much of his writing has the advantage of hindsight; he was able to remove himself from contemporary debates by musing on the nature of censorship itself rather than having to pass judgement on specific cases. In his memoirs he reflected on his time at the Board and emphasised that: We worked on a general policy of treating with as much tolerance and generosity as possible any film that seemed to have both quality and integrity and of being much less tolerant of films which appeared to us to have neither of these qualifications.3

1 A. Pimlott Baker, ‘John Trevelyan’, Dictionary of National Biography accessed online at http://www.oxforddnb.com in March 2011 2 James Robertson, The Hidden Cinema: British Film Censorship in Action 1913 1975 (London: Routledge, 1993 2nd Edition). 3 John Trevelyan, What the Censor Saw (London: Michael Joseph Ltd, 1973) 66.

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Chapter One

This approach gave the BBFC freedom to make individual decisions on a case by case basis, but this broadly liberal agenda was frequently frustrated by the pace of social and cultural change. Following the seismic shifts of the 1960s, the classification system was amended in 1970. The X certificate became for over 18s rather than for over 16s, giving filmmakers much more leeway in the material they could include in their films. The notion of ‘adult only’ entertainment still reigned in the murky theatres and cinemas of Soho, but the new X certificate also allowed for films which had adult themes to be shown in mainstream cinemas. This would prove crucial for the success of the sex-comedy genre which was to become such a staple of 1970s cinema, but the new classification also benefitted sexeducation films and serious films aimed solely at adult audiences. One film which was to benefit from the classification change was Percy (1971) the Betty Box produced comedy about a penis transplant. The examiners noted that the film’s subject matter would not have been considered under the old classification system, and that its content was only just suitable for the new X category.4 Even then, Trevelyan personally requested the removal of a female flagellation expert from one scene, a move which suggested that risqué content would still be carefully monitored, even at the highest classification.5 While the film’s narrative was deemed acceptable, this perceived sexual perversion was not, thus indicating that the new X certificate was still closely allied to standards of acceptability.6 Concerns about acceptability were not simply restricted to the BBFC; these debates also played a pivotal role in what was broadcast on television. Programmes produced for the BBC were subject to editorial control at production level, and if it was deemed particularly contentious, the department head or programme controller became involved. A BBC produced-pamphlet from 1967 described these in-house processes of editorial control as: More akin to similar processes in large newspapers than they are to the machinery of censorship in the theatre and film industry. Newspapers act within the laws of libel and obscenity and are tempered by the need to

4

BBFC file for Percy. Ibid. 6 Other films were confined to the X category due to their subject matter and treatment in this period. Another analogous case would be The Beast in the Cellar. 5

Power, Patronage and Policy

19

maintain an editorial policy and a relationship with their readers. The BBC acts similarly.7

By contrast, the Independent Television Authority (ITA) which scrutinised programmes to be broadcast on ITV worked in a way similar to the BBFC.8 The ITA received submissions from a range of regional broadcasters, just as the BBFC examined films from all sections of the film industry. Both organisations viewed submitted material on a case by case basis and made decisions based upon notions of acceptability and popular taste. The ITA files reveal how the organisation responded to specific contentious issues, but more specifically indicate how the ITA and the BBFC collaborated in order to ensure parity between television and film censorship. The ITA files reveal the friendship and the working relationship which existed between Sir Robert Frazer, Director General of the ITA, and John Trevelyan. In 1961, both were approached by Granada Television to participate in a programme about censorship of film and television material organised by the Television and Screenwriters Guild. Trevelyan and Frazer both objected to the way in which the programme was planned with Frazer considering it to be “heavily loaded with anti-censorship emotion.”9 Trevelyan agreed and pointed out to Frazer that he had been approached by the programme makers and asked to comment on censored film material as well as offering an opinion on television material. Trevelyan explained how he had refused to comply with either of these requests and cited the confidential nature of film censorship and the unspoken “gentleman’s agreement” which prevented either the BBFC or the film companies involved from publicly commenting on specific censorship decisions.10

7

BBC, Control of subject matter in BBC Programmes (London: BBC London Publishing, undated circa 1967) 8 The Independent Television Authority became the Independent Broadcasting Authority in 1972 but for clarity is referred to as the ITA throughout this and all subsequent chapters. 9 Robert Frazer letter to John Trevelyan, 18 January 1961. Accessed from file Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume I, held within the ITA archive at the University of Bournemouth. 10 John Trevelyan letter to Bob Frazer, 17 January 1961. Accessed from file Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume I, held within the ITA archive at the University of Bournemouth.

20

Chapter One

Trevelyan wrote formally to offer his support to Frazer outlining his objections to the proposed programme and giving the ITA crucial ammunition to help prevent the programme being made. As well as this formal declaration of solidarity and support, Trevelyan also wrote informally to Frazer and gave him his blessing to use his more formal letter in any way he wished, writing: The position about this programme is clearly very tricky... I will treat the whole thing with great caution and keep in close touch with you about it. You may be sure that I shall do nothing which will make your position more difficult than it already is. I will commit myself to nothing without prior consultation with you.11

Frazer responded by thanking Trevelyan for the support but stated that he would, “hold his official letter in reserve, for I do not wish to expose you to the possible accusation that you have influenced us against the programme.”12 The most important part of Trevelyan’s letter is the information he gives Frazer about attempts made to contact film companies to gain examples of censored material (which was illegal) and their queries to Trevelyan himself about commenting on television material (which was inappropriate for a film censor). Such actions placed the Granada filmmakers outside the parameters of acceptable behaviour and Frazer acted swiftly to ensure that the proposed programme was not made. The ease with which the two men write to each other – their letters begin “My dear Bob” and “My dear John” – suggests an established friendship as well as a professional working relationship. Such relationships were part of Trevelyan’s way of working but it is interesting to see in the relationship between the ITA and the BBFC such a united approach to the issue of censorship.. Trevelyan had only been chief censor for three years by 1961, but he had already established crucial industry contacts and was keen for there to be a similarity of approach as well as mutual respect between those working in the film and television industries. Collaboration between film and television also had other benefits, with difficult decisions occasionally being deflected by an alternative medium. 11

Ibid. Robert Frazer letter to John Trevelyan, 18 January 1961. Accessed from file Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume I, held within the ITA archive at the University of Bournemouth.

12

Power, Patronage and Policy

21

In October 1969, The Wife Swappers (1970), a bizarre combination of titillation and documentary, was submitted to the BBFC for certification. Director Stanley Long, whose work blurred the boundary between the soft-porn fringe and the mainstream, claimed that that the film “says something of value on a very important and current social topic.”13 In response to the Board’s view that his film raised questions of social responsibility, he argued “to indulge in wife swapping calls for the agreement of at least four persons whom, since they are married, one must regard as socially responsible.”14 The BBFC’s refusal to grant this film a certificate was supported by the Greater London Council who refused to screen the film. The wrangles about the film continued until February 1970, when Long wrote to Trevelyan about a play soon to be featured on BBC2 which focused on the issue of wife swapping. In a private memo to Lord Harlech, President of the Board, Trevelyan acknowledged, “although I would not like to comment on the BBC2 play without seeing it, the putting on of such a programme does seem to make our position a little more difficult, especially when we get the X at 18.”15 Here television has broached the difficult subject first and given the BBFC the opportunity to shelter behind any adverse publicity generated by the BBC2 programme. Trevelyan’s desire for strong working relationships between the ITA and the BBFC continued throughout the 1960s with both organisations frequently supporting each other, both in private and with public declarations of support when under attack from the press. This collaboration placed the film industry in a much stronger position and ensured that the Government felt no need to interfere. Throughout the 1960s, there is little official evidence of Government involvement in the censorship of films. Instead, Government preoccupations with censorship centred on television and the theatre. Unlike the 1970s, when questions were raised by Members of the Commons about the role and function of the BBFC with increasingly frequency, during the 1960s MP’s seemed content to leave the censorship of films in the hands of the BBFC. The few queries which were raised about film material were concerned with the exhibition of pornographic films in Soho and so were dealt with under the complex obscenity laws. A question on this subject in the House of Commons in 1965 was met with the response that there had been 61 convictions for

13

BBFC file for The Wife Swappers. Stanley Long to John Trevelyan, letter dated 20 February 1970, BBFC file for The Wife Swappers. 15 Ibid. 14

22

Chapter One

offences relating to obscene films in that year and 282 films and 43 projectors and screens had been forfeited in a clean up campaign.16 Later in the 1970s, the lines between the Soho cinemas and the artistic fringe of the mainstream would become heavily blurred and the BBFC was frequently cited by the press and by pressure groups as a collaborator working side by side with the seamier side of the film industry. However, throughout the 1960s, the responsibilities of the BBFC were clearly defined and the Government was at pains to stress that that it would not interfere with the processes of film censorship. This was also the case when it came to dealing with the censorship of film material screened on television. In response to a question in 1969, which asked the Government to prevent the BBC and ITV screening films which the BBFC had certificated X, the Government response indicated its desire not to be involved. The Secretary of State for the Home Department declared emphatically, “responsibility for the content of broadcast programmes rests with the Chairman and Governors of the BBC and the Chairman and Members of the ITA; and the Government does not interfere.”17 Such a measured and reasoned approach was to be sorely tested in the decade which followed. The Government maintained its hands-off approach to the censorship of films, yet a legislative loophole increasingly brought local councils to the fore. Powers granted by the Cinematograph Act of 1909 gave local councils the right to award exhibition licenses to films screened within their administrative areas. As Paul O’Higgins points out, this power was intended only “to impose conditions relating to safety and never contemplated the use of licensing powers to impose censorship.”18 Yet this is precisely what happened in the 1970s. This power was jealously guarded by local authorities and used to perpetuate censorship of films at local level. By actively denying certain films certificates, local councils were making decisions about what people could and could not see. Working with the local authorities was a key part of the work of the BBFC with Trevelyan admitting in his biography that at the start of the 1960s, relations with local councils were not as cordial as they should 16

Parliamentary debates (Hansard) House of Commons official report, Volume 720, 1965-1966, 18 November 1965, 92-93. 17 Parliamentary debates (Hansard) House of Commons official report. Volume 776 1969, 23 Jan 1969, 648-649. 18 Paul O’Higgins, Censorship in Britain (London: The Chaucer Press Ltd, 1972)

Power, Patronage and Policy

23

have been.19 This is a massive understatement and the strained relations with local authorities were to prove a huge headache for Trevelyan’s successor Stephen Murphy. However the BBFC’s relationships with local councils were not always as tempestuous and fraught as previous accounts have suggested. To suggest that the responsibility of classifying contentious films was wrestled from the unwilling grasp of the BBFC is not entirely true. The BBFC files document that under Trevelyan’s leadership, the Board were happy to devolve responsibility to local authorities in the case of specific, problematic films. This was certainly the case with one of the earliest tests of the 1970s, The Language of Love (1969).20 The Language of Love was to prove a classification nightmare for the BBFC; it was subject to a private prosecution and the ensuing court case involved three successive Secretaries and generated a massive amount of unwanted publicity for the BBFC throughout the 1970s. The archive files indicate that James Ferman was still negotiating the BBFC’s legal position with regard to the film in 1976, seven years after it was first screened in Britain.21 Evidence from the film files reveals that the Board was uncertain how to classify the film nationally, and so decided to allow it to be certificated according to the desires and tastes of local communities, perhaps recognising that this Swedish sex education film was going to divide audiences and critics. The film received a great deal of attention with opponents and champions of The Language of Love making their feelings known in the press. Public figures from the medical community including Dr Richard Fox, Dr Andrew Storr and Claire Raynor all defended the film while Trevelyan himself went on record to state that it was “not for sensation seekers, but rather for those who are anxious to extend their knowledge, to achieve happier marital relationships.”22 Privately Trevelyan noted that the film was “a good deal more explicit in places than any film of its kind that the Board has yet passed” and used this as justification for passing the film to the local councils.23 An important report exists on the BBFC file from one of the male examiners who saw the film on two different occasions in public cinemas, one in London and one in Portsmouth. He observed of the London screening in Charing Cross 19

Trevelyan, What the Censor Saw (London: Michael Joseph Ltd, 1973), 71. The release date given here of 1969 is not entirely accurate. The film was certificated in 1969 by some local councils but it did not receive a formal BBFC certificate until 1973. 21 BBFC file for The Language of Love. 22 Ibid. 23 Ibid. 20

24

Chapter One

Road that, “the audience were typical of that area, consisting completely of males” and noted the “unnatural silence during some of the more sexually specific episodes.”24 This was perhaps to be expected in a cinema so close to Soho; the Portsmouth screening was very different with the examiner commenting: The cinema was nearly full, consisting of a mixed male/female audience, mostly of younger people in their twenties and thirties… the audience reaction was very interesting. They obviously appeared to enjoy the film. There was no snide laughter or remarks, but some healthy laughter was raised by the thought of ‘making love in boots’, the man’s large moustache during the love making and a near hysterical shout from the women during the sequence when a vibrator was set in motion.25

Clearly, Penry felt the film screening in Portsmouth with its “healthy laughter” was more indicative of a typical regional audience and he concludes his report with the personal judgement that “sex instructional films made with integrity can be passed for viewing under a Board certificate.”26 Although this was not a typical way for the BBFC to approach their film submissions, Trevelyan’s instinct to allow local councils to make the decision had proved useful. Once the film had been seen and enjoyed by local audiences then its rehabilitation with viewers was assured and the BBFC could avoid controversy. This method of testing the viewers and involving local councils was to prove an alternative course of action for the Board in the early years of the decade and one which was only applied to certain films. However, not all films met with the approval of local councils and there was still hardened dislike of sex education films in some quarters, particularly in rural locales. Love Variations (1970) was a British-made sex education film which was screened privately for the BBFC President Lord Harlech and John Trevelyan by Oppidian Film Productions in early 1970. Following this screening, Trevelyan advised producer David Hamilton-Grant on the best way to present the film to possible audiences, but informed him that they were unable to grant the film a certificate. Hamilton-Grant’s reply on the film file is illuminating and he writes: 24

Ibid. Ibid. 26 Ibid. 25

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25

Although I made this film as a commercial project, I am more interested in its educational value. Therefore, when the film does receive its first showing to the general public, and I am resolved that this can, must and will happen, the advertising that will be associated with this picture, will adhere to the lines suggested in the brochure already in your possession.27

In his correspondence Hamilton-Grant mentions the test screenings which were set up to gather responses to the film from members of the Press, the Church and the British Medical Association and he reports optimistically to the BBFC that: It was generally felt that the film was enlightening, of great interest and in no way shocked anybody present. The majority of people who have seen the film felt that they could recommend it to their friends and family.28

As part of the release strategy for the film, Hamilton-Grant requested a signed letter from Trevelyan and Lord Harlech, which expressed “joint approval of the manner and the integrity with which this film has been made” which he would be able to support his application to local authorities.29 Trevelyan’s response to this plea was considered yet compassionate. In a private memo to Lord Harlech, he noted: I do not know whether you are prepared to do this or not, but perhaps you will consider it… as an alternative I could sign the letter in my official capacity and leave you out of it. I enclose a draft of the sort of letter than might be sent to him if we decided to send him one.30

This suggestion to help champion the film was accompanied by a further suggestion to waive the usual fee charged by the BBFC. Trevelyan’s explained the reason for this generosity, “I have a feeling that this small company has probably not got much money in hand and applications to Local Authorities will involve certain expenses.”31 Trevelyan reminds Lord Harlech that they already seen the film twice and that it should simply be entered in the BBFC records as a rejected film rather than it being formally submitted, viewed by an examining team, and then rejected and charged a fee. 27

David Hamilton-Grant to John Trevelyan, letter dated 1 April 1970, BBFC file for Love Variations. 28 Ibid. 29 Ibid. 30 John Trevelyan to Lord Harlech, letter dated 3 April 1970. Ibid. 31 Ibid.

26

Chapter One

The letter which Trevelyan proposed sending to the Local Authorities on behalf of Love Variations outlines his approach to this film and reveals the complexity of censorship in this period, when common sense often came into conflict with a conservative agenda. The letter reads: After careful consideration we have decided we cannot issue a certificate for the public exhibition of this film… your film is one of complete sincerity and integrity… at the same time we have reason to believe that that there are a good many people who … would feel that this kind of film should not be exhibited in cinemas which are essentially places of public entertainment. We think it is likely also that this view will be held by at least a number of Licensing Authorities and for this reason we believe that the decision on whether this film is to be exhibited in cinemas should be one for individual Licensing Authorities and not for the Board.32

Expressing support for the filmmaker and praising the integrity of the film, while simultaneously passing the responsibility of its exhibition to local authorities, was a master stroke and avoided many of the problems encountered with The Language of Love. Working with the filmmaker, testing the notions of acceptability for these kinds of films and ensuring that the local authorities did not directly challenge the decision of the BBFC are all characteristic of Trevelyan’s method of working. The generosity with which he waived the examination fee and the sincere help he provided to the production company demonstrate what he was prepared to do to in order to ensure that the film was publicly screened. This is Trevelyan at his best; the liberal campaigner who was also an astute politician who realised that doing battle with the local authorities would bring nothing but bad publicity. The BBFC’s awareness of the power of press is evident in key cases from the late 1960s. Antonioni’s Blow Up (1967) reveals how the Board was acutely aware of the possible public repercussions of making an unpopular or unrealistic classification decision. The BBFC report for the film labels it “uneven”, “peculiar” and “extremely disappointing” and identified a problematic scene within the film noting: The President was a bit dubious about the scene in which David Hemmings’ frolics with two girls who end up nude…there is nothing very erotic about the incident, but we have not previously had a man behaving this way with either one or two naked women.’33 32 33

John Trevelyan to David Hamilton-Grant, letter dated 9 April 1970. Ibid. BBFC file for Blow Up.

Power, Patronage and Policy

27

Clearly the examiners were concerned about the impact of this particular scene, as the content and visuals went beyond what they had previously allowed. However, it was eventually decided to pass the film uncut, in order to avoid, as one examiner noted, “a certain elitist hullabaloo.”34 Such a pragmatic attitude indicates that the BBFC examiners were aware of the damaging effects of negative publicity, particularly in the case of films which fell outside the parameters of the mainstream. The BBFC was reluctant to become embroiled in a row with the liberal press and the intelligentsia over a film by a famous and renowned director in the artistic or avant-garde category. Despite the “gentleman’s agreement” not to talk about what was cut and what was not, specific films and their problems with the censor often attracted the attentions of the press and this kind of clash was adored by both left and right wing publications. Trevelyan’s relationship with the press was as careful and thoughtful as his dealings with the local councils. He often gave statements to the press about specific films in order to help focus the debate and to defend the Board’s individual decisions. In 1971, Ralph Nelson’s Soldier Blue (1971) was attracting a great deal of negative press attention for its graphic and violent depiction of the clashes between the American army and Native Americans. Trevelyan was quoted in The Daily Mirror stating: The film is bloody and brutal, but it is brilliant too. The violence depicted is not there for sensationalism or for gains at the box office. I am quite sure of that. The story of the massacre is a true one. What was portrayed at the time as a heroic incident was in fact one of the most shameful episodes in American history. This is the point the film has to make and it could not be done in a tame way. Certain cuts had to be made but it is nevertheless a fine film.35

The controversy surrounding specific films was often exacerbated by the press, who saw in censorship a contentious topic which combined the essential elements of moral censoriousness with salacious detail. Yet the activities of the press as a whole were far less damaging to the BBFC than the highly organised moral campaigns of pressure groups such as the National Viewers and Listeners Association and The Festival of Light. The actions of these particular groups became crucially important during

34

Ibid. John Trevelyan quoted in Daily Mirror, 2 April 1971.

35

28

Chapter One

the tenure of Stephen Murphy in 1971 and 1972 and will be examined in later chapters. This examination of the working practices of John Trevelyan throughout the 1960s and early 1970s reveals the machinations of this wily politician. In joining forces with the ITA and working towards parity in film and television material, Trevelyan ensured that debates became about content and what was permissible rather than about the role of the censorship bodies themselves. Involving local government in the censorship process allowed the BBFC to work in collaboration with councils without alienating or offending local communities. More than any other Secretary of the BBFC, Trevelyan knew how important public relations were to the Board and this informed his approach to the censorship of film material. But how did this apparent harmony at the end of the 1960s develop into the conflict which characterised the early years of the 1970s? Was it the decisions of the BBFC itself or the uncertain nature of a society in transition which led to increased scrutiny of the Board? I want to now consider exactly how Trevelyan’s methods of working affected the decisions he made as head of the Board and look at a range of examples to examine changes in permission and notions of acceptability in the early 1970s.

CHAPTER TWO GETTING IT RIGHT AND WRONG

The BBFC was under pressure in the late 1960s and early 1970s as debates about permission came to the forefront of public consciousness following the abolition of British theatre censorship in 1968. The BBFC had to make the correct censorship decisions for film in the face of increased media attention and focus. While a great many films in the early years of the 1970s were contentious, most have been eclipsed by specific and well-documented cases. Archive material which pertains to more “typical” 1970s texts, many of which have been consistently overlooked in favour of increased focus on the cause celebres reveals a great deal about how the BBFC and Trevelyan in particular dealt with a range of issues. Such material shows how the Board operated under Trevelyan’s leadership and how critical his personal relationships were with directors and producers. Trevelyan, perhaps more than any other BBFC secretary, understood the precarious position of the Board and trod a careful path of collusion with the film industry and collaboration with the so-called permissive society. This was particularly important in the early 1970s when the function and composition of nonelected organisations began to be publicly and vigorously questioned. It fell to Trevelyan to steer the BBCF through these difficult years and his decisions in this period reflect the diversity of his methods. By turns, humouring and ignoring his critics, what is most evident from his approach is his willingness to compromise, provided that the compromise was on his own terms. The career of Trevelyan and his time in office must be evaluated through the decisions he was called upon to make and the background against which he had to make them. In a transcript of a speech delivered to Television and Screenwriters Guild in 1961, Trevelyan drew attention to the contradictions inherent with systems of censorship. In the speech which calls upon “most reasonable people” he observes:

30

Chapter Two It is true that most people in the film industry are decent people with social responsibility… but there are some who are not and there is plenty of evidence that pornography is profitable and that dirt produces dividends.1

It is for this reason and for the protection of children from the extremes of content present in X rated films, that Trevelyan advocated continued censorship of films. He concludes his remarks with the observation that: Few people who value freedom would accept unnecessary restrictions of any kind, but most reasonable people are willing to accept restrictions that they believe are in the interests of the community and especially of their own families.2

Here, seven years before theatre censorship was formally abolished, Trevelyan is putting forward his case for the continued censorship of film. His arguments appeal to “sensible people” and the rhetoric he uses draws upon the principle of freedom of expression, before pointing out why this is untenable for film censorship. Such clever rhetoric, in which he bemoans the necessity of film censorship and attributes this to a lack of social responsibility on the part of specific sections of the film industry, positioned the BBFC, not as the guardians of public morality, but rather as the reasonable protectors of the public. Such documents reveal an astute politician, whose approach enabled the BBFC to present itself as a fair and liberal organisation, acting as a buffer between the extremes of material produced by the film industry and the audience. Issues which were not deemed socially or culturally acceptable at specific historical moments can suggest a great deal about the conscious and subconscious fears of a society. They can also reveal the attitude and approach of those who are in a position to judge them. One of the most contentious issues during the early 1970s was depictions of sexuality. In the case of Villain (1970), a gangster film with a homosexual central protagonist, John Trevelyan wrote to the producer of the proposed film suggesting: It would be wise to get rid entirely of the homosexual relationship between Dakin and Lissner… As you know, homosexuality is not a popular theme with the mainstream cinema audiences in this country and from a 1

John Trevelyan speech to TV and Screenwriters guild, undated circa 1961, 2. Accessed from file Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume I, held within the ITA archive at the University of Bournemouth. 2 Ibid. 3

Getting it Right and Wrong

31

censorship angle it introduces an element that we would be happier not to have in a picture of this kind. Here again there is a possibility of stimulation; I have in mind these horrible cases that we occasionally get where naked young men are found dead, tied up and mutilated.3

However, despite Trevelyan’s concerns and advice the homosexual relationship remained in the film. His suggestions were politely ignored and the resulting film passed unscathed through the BBFC as its visual and spoken content included nothing explicit which merited the attention of the censor. A film which did run into trouble because of similar thematic issues of homosexual desire was the lavish and sensuous adaptation of DH Lawrence’s Women in Love (1969). The file for this film reveals deep concern about the visual content of Ken Russell’s opulent film, particularly the graphic love scenes between Gudrun and Gerald and the infamous naked wrestling scene. Trevelyan commented on this particular sequence: In this scene we get an important development of the homosexual relationship between Gerald and Birkin. It they were just indulging in horseplay as two friends, there would not be problems, but we have already clear indications that there are homosexual feelings between them and this kind of scene could be troublesome if not handled discreetly.4

Russell argued strenuously for the retention of this scene and negotiated carefully with Trevelyan, eventually conceding: I gather that there is one full-length shot of Gerald which gives offence. The only way out of this, if the continuity of the scene and what is more important, the dignity of the scene it to be maintained, is to darken the shot and this I would be quite prepared to do.5

In addressing these issues together Russell and Trevelyan ensured that the scene remained in the film. The power and eroticism of this scene and its inclusion in the film is a testament to both Russell’s skill as a filmmaker and the adaptability of Trevelyan. Such collaboration refutes the idea that the BBFC cut without sensitivity and also demonstrates how a film could avoid cuts if it was visually accomplished, aesthetically pleasing and culturally valuable. Trevelyan’s contribution in smoothing 3

John Trevelyan to Anglo-EMI, letter dated 17 April 1970, BBFC file for Villain. BBFC file for Women in Love. 5 Ken Russell to John Trevelyan, letter 27 June 1969, BBFC file for Women in Love. 4

32

Chapter Two

the film’s passage through the censorship process was commented upon by Larry Kramer from Brandywine Productions who wrote gratefully to the BBFC secretary noting, “that you always understand and sympathised [sic] with our creative intentions has been a constant source of encouragement for both of us.”6 This effective collaboration and creative sympathy between Trevelyan and Russell also enabled The Music Lovers (1970), submitted the following year, to be passed uncut on Trevelyan’s authority despite strenuous objections from other examiners. Objections to this film were detailed and extensive, with the examiners considering: The two scenes in which Nina attempts to ‘rape’ our hero, go a good deal beyond the sort of love-making which we saw in Women in Love which was savage and unpleasant enough…we do not think there is any possible artistic or film excuse for the disgusting scene in which Nina squats on a grating and lunatics fondle her. 7

Despite these detailed objections, which call into question the intentions of the filmmaker, Trevelyan overrode the decision of his examiners, and noted briefly on the file, “Discussed with the President. He said that we should not ask for any cut in the film unless it was essential for ‘political’ reasons. I do not consider it essential and having seen the film agree to pass it ‘X’.”8 The reference here to “political reasons” is intriguing. Were Trevelyan and President of the Board, Lord Harlech referring to the internal politics of the BBFC, or a more politic decision to keep fiery Ken Russell placated and to avoid more bad press? It is difficult to say, but what is perhaps more interesting is the comparison which can be drawn between the treatment of both Women in Love and The Music Lovers and that meted out to another film which also threatened to be highly controversial; the adaptation of the stage play, The Killing of Sister George (1968) by Robert Aldrich. This film featured lesbian love affairs as part of its central narrative and this subject matter posed huge problems for the BBFC and for Trevelyan in particular. Homosexual overtones were one thing, but lesbian love scenes quite another. The notes on the file for The Killing of 6

Larry Kramer to John Trevelyan, letter dated 8 July 1969. BBFC file for Women in Love. 7 BBFC file for The Music Lovers. 8 Ibid.

Getting it Right and Wrong

33

Sister George, succinctly pinpoint the problem observing unequivocally, “lesbian love scene must be entirely removed.”9 In a letter to the Greater London Council who wanted to show The Killing of Sister George un-certificated and uncut, Trevelyan confirmed that he had demanded the deletion of the contentious and explicit lesbian love scene. Trevelyan justified his autocratic behaviour by claiming “it appears that such censorship action was anticipated since the music stops as the scene starts and through the scene kiss there is no dialogue.”10 In Trevelyan’s view, and therefore the view of the BBFC, the material was simply not permissible and could therefore not be shown. Trevelyan wrote to the production company and confirmed “huge fuss about this film … very worried about orgasm.”11 Trevelyan’s high-handed behaviour in removing the offending scene contrasts sharply with the sympathetic treatment given to the homoerotic sequences in Ken Russell’s Women in Love and also to the homosexual relationship in Villain. In his autobiography, Trevelyan refers to The Killing of Sister George as containing “a most explicit lesbian love scene” whereas the wrestling scene from Women in Love was “remarkably brilliant.”12 It was only after The Killing of Sister George grossed over £50,000 and had been seen by 400,000 people that Trevelyan reluctantly allowed the disputed scene to be reinserted.13 These films are all different, yet their varying treatment does suggest that cultural value judgements were being applied and that Trevelyan was making decisions based upon what he thought an audience would accept as well as demonstrating his own personal prejudices. It seems quite clear that lesbian behaviour was not viewed or treated in the same way as male homosexuality by the BBFC as a whole, as file notes from the Hammer horror The Vampire Lovers (1970) corroborate. What is astonishing in this file is the level of disgust and incredulity expressed over this film’s content. One examiner exclaims:

9

BBFC file for The Killing of Sister George. John Trevelyan to Greater London Council, letter dated 24 February, 1969, BBFC file on Killing of Sister George. 11 John Trevelyan to Cinerama, letter dated 24 February 1969. Ibid. 12 John Trevelyan, What the Censor Saw (London: Michael Joseph Ltd, 1973) 117. 13 BBFC file for The Killing of Sister George. 10

34

Chapter Two The very overt emphasis on lesbianism here goes far beyond anything we have allowed, except the uncut version of Sister George. We are very concerned with the combination of nudity into horror. There are some very sick things here - Carmilla bares Emma’s breasts, lowers her face, breast and her head towards and down her body (off/screen). We see a close up of Emma’s face with a very strange sensual expression. We do not think we can possibly accept this sequence. We do feel that this film without considerable cuts will set a very bad precedent. It has a very horrible atmosphere in parts.14

Again, the issue of contention seems to be Emma’s face with “a very strange sensual expression” – ergo the female orgasm. The female orgasm would seem to be an issue of great controversy for the BBFC at this time, and it was clearly felt that showing such material went beyond the boundaries of acceptability. The double standards adopted by the BBFC in dealing with male and female sexual pleasure is commented upon retrospectively by the 1984 video release forms for The Vampire Lovers in which the examiner observes wryly: The relationship of Vampire to victim - given that it is based on biting, sucking and blood – how much more symbolic can one get – is full of passion and sex…. were the Vampire a man, we would take decidedly more in the way of kissing and caressing.15

The second examiner’s comments are also revealing: Not a realistic depicture of homosexuality … it is all shrouded in filmic conventions which, if they are not so hackneyed as to prevent any realism whatsover, alert the viewer more to the fear of the Vampire due to the perils of her sexuality.16

Perhaps this was the problem; the depiction of the female as a sexual predator devoted to erotic pleasure and taking this pleasure with other women, not with men. In 1970 it was this distinction which rendered the BBFC and John Trevelyan acutely uncomfortable. The treatment of The Vampire Lovers may not simply have been due to controversial content; the film was also sensationalist horror rather than a literary adaptation. Exploitation films had a difficult time with the BBFC, 14

BBFC file for The Vampire Lovers. Ibid. 16 Ibid. 15

Getting it Right and Wrong

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as producers and directors could not argue that the films were made with honourable artistic intentions. At the start of the 1970s, explicit horror and sex began to be presented together on film in new ways and the BBFC faced such submissions with trepidation. Despite excellent relations between Hammer and Trevelyan, there were still problems with some of the studio’s films of the early 1970s including Countess Dracula (1971). When asked for his comments on the script for Countess Dracula, Trevelyan helpfully, and rather condescendingly, obliged: In dealing with this kind of material, we have always been careful about the association of sex with horror. We also have to be careful to avoid films going over the borderline between horror and disgust, and I think there are some scenes in your film which go over this line. This is nasty stuff and should be shot with great care. It could be revolting.17

Trevelyan was obviously concerned about the content of the film on an audience, but his comments also reveal his supreme confidence in his own judgements. The second examiner who read through the script also felt: It might be appropriate to rub it in that sex and violence have their limits … particularly when they are mixed up with horror. I find the ‘washing with blood’ scenes particularly revolting and I think the makers may well defeat their own ends if they are not reasonably discreet about this element in the story. It is one thing to be made to shudder with fright and another to be made to vomit in a public place.18

Despite reservations about the film, Trevelyan finally agreed that it would not be cut, conceding that it was acceptable in the changing times and used his longstanding relationship with Hammer as an opportunity to offer director Peter Sasdy a few words of caution: You had a good press on your last film and you will want to keep your growing reputation. I have found from long experience that the public do not seem to like real nastiness in films so I can only advise you to be careful about it. 19

This friendly albeit unsolicited advice demonstrates the strong working relationship many producers and directors had with the BBFC and with 17

John Trevelyan to Peter Sasdy, letter dated 3 July 1970, BBFC file for Countess Dracula. 18 BBFC file for Countess Dracula. 19 John Trevelyan to Peter Sasdy, letter dated 3 July 1970. Ibid.

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Trevelyan in particular. Yet another popular misconception about the BBFC is that forcing cuts on reluctant producers and directors led to strained relations between the Board and the industry. This again, is inaccurate. There were occasional spates between the BBFC and individual directors, but generally the relationship between the censor and studios was often an efficient working relationship which had a personal as well as a professional level. Trevelyan in particular collaborated easily with key industry players, including some of the more autocratic directors. The file for The Go-Between (1971) reveals letters between Trevelyan and Joseph Losey discussing their recent meetings and quibbling familiarly over who should have paid for dinner.20 According to Trevelyan’s memoirs, positive working relationships with individuals within the industry were of the utmost importance. This attitude is perfectly summed up in a personal letter to Robert Frazer of the Independent Television Authority where Trevelyan tellingly noted, “personal contacts of this kind are always useful.”21 Reliance on these personal contacts is precisely how Trevelyan conducted business at the BBFC but this approach was not always enthusiastically supported by the rest of the Board. The tensions caused by Trevelyan’s promises and use of patronage occasionally spill over from the pages of the archive files. Often the decisions of the examiners were directly overruled by Trevelyan. This is particularly evident with films from the low budget genres of sex and horror, both of which were very much in evidence in the early years of the decade. Many of the films submitted in these years had sexual elements to them and were often a huge headache for the BBFC in terms of what could be shown and said on screen, as already highlighted by The Vampire Lovers. Even films which could not be taken seriously in terms of plot or narrative had to be considered alongside more serious fare, yet the frequent outrage of the examiners is often not matched by the more measured response of Trevelyan. Responding to the submission of Zeta One (1970), a futuristic sexploitation farce submitted by Tony Tenser from low budget operation Tigon, both examiners who viewed the film called for it to be denied a certificate. One claimed “we think that it is pornographic and should be refused a certificate” while the other declared 20

BBFC file for The Go-Between. John Trevelyan letter to Robert Frazer, 3 February 1961, Accessed from file Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume I, held within the ITA archive at the University of Bournemouth.

21

Getting it Right and Wrong

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“I feel very strongly that this must be thrown out, if not there will be no end to this sort of dirty pornography.”22 Instead of simply acquiescing to the demands of his examiners, Trevelyan instead wrote to Tenser himself. In this letter he explained: Our examiners saw your film Zeta One and have expressed to me considerable doubts about its acceptability. For this reason I shall want to see the whole film again on a date when I can be present myself.23

After further conversations with Tenser, a series of minor cuts were suggested by Trevelyan, which mainly addressed the graphic nudity in the film, which then allowed it to be passed with an X certificate. Such an approach suggests that Trevelyan was perhaps more concerned with finding the correct classification for a piece of submitted material rather than simply supporting the stance adopted by his examiners. Again the treatment of this film with its graphic sexual content can be contrasted with the lesbian scenes which caused him such offence in The Killing of Sister George. Trevelyan’s tolerance to sexually explicit material appears only to have extended to conventional sexual partnerships. What his examiners felt about his overruling on particular cases is not recorded yet these instances were not infrequent. The stylish art-deco inspired horror film, The Abominable Dr Phibes (1971), starring Vincent Price was submitted to the Board in mid-1971 as Trevelyan was preparing to leave the BBFC. After viewing the film the examiners recommended a few small cuts to the film’s more graphic moments, suggesting “remove shots of rats eating pieces of a man’s body” and “remove both shots of locusts on Nurse Allen’s skeleton face.”24 This verdict was summarily overturned by Trevelyan who judged “saw this film myself and enjoyed it. It is the best spoof of a horror film that I have ever seen…I don’t think we need worry about the first cut.”25 Again a personal decision by the General Secretary overruled his examiner’s decisions. However, the personal objections of the BBFC examiners were not always unfounded, nor were they always ignored. One of the films which 22

BBFC file for Zeta One. John Trevelyan to Tony Tenser, letter dated 10 Decmeber 1969, BBFC file for Zeta One. 24 BBFC file for The Abominable Dr Phibes. 25 Ibid. 23

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caused the Board the greatest problems in this period was Witchfinder General (1968) directed by Michael Reeves. 26In response to the initial submission of the script, one female examiner declared, “personally I should not grieve if this script dropped dead in its tracks” while another wrote to Producer Tony Tenser that “It could fairly be described as a study in sadism in which every detail of cruelty and suffering is lovingly dwelt on.”27 The internal report analysing the script is vitriolic in its criticisms of the production company behind the film. Part of the report rages: In the last week I have seen two films submitted by Tenser from his Tigon company. Now I get this perfectly beastly script from the same stable. This ape Tenser will continue to be a time-wasting nuisance until this Board puts him in his place.28

Such an attack on Tony Tenser demonstrates not only the lack of impartiality of this examiner, but also reveals the low regard in which Tenser was held at the Board, mainly due to his associations with pornography. The BBFC is making quality judgements based upon the reputation and integrity of an individual and the product most typically associated with that individual. The irony in this case is that Witchfinder General was not a typical Tigon production but was still treated as such by the BBFC. After looking at the final submitted script, the examiner observed “the sooner Tenser stops trying it on the better. This sort of behaviour does waste so much of our time. Tenser knows to within a couple of frames what we will pass.”29 The frustrations of the examiner are evident and it is clear that the film, its producer and production company were all held in contempt by the Board. Unfortunately Witchfinder General also suffered from Trevelyan making a rare mistake. In a 1968 memo, Trevelyan confidently asserts, “Saw an early assembly with Michael Reeves. I do not think this film is likely to give us much trouble.”30 Yet, despite these assurances, the film was to cause a great deal of trouble and by April 1968 Trevelyan was writing to Reeves: 26

This case has been covered in detail in Benjamin Halligan Michael Reeves, British Film Makers Series (Manchester: MUP, 2003).

27 BBFC to Tony Tenser, letter dated 9 August, 1967, BBFC file for Witchfinder General. 28 BBFC file on Witchfinder General . 29 Ibid. 30 Ibid.

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I would like to express regret that I underestimated the impact of this film when I saw an early assembly or rough cut. I now know the film well and I believe that I am justified in saying that the impact was immensely heightened by colour, sound effects and music. The picture in its final form was very much stronger than I had anticipated and it will have the effect of making me more cautious in future in making preliminary judgements on films of violence.31

Trevelyan had to shift position once the film was submitted and request significant cuts. Even the involvement of the BBFC throughout the filmmaking process could not guarantee that a film would not face censorship difficulties. It also demonstrates that experienced and knowledgeable as Trevelyan was, he was not infallible and occasionally made unwise decisions which called his credibility into question. Reeves was fiercely resistant to the requested cuts and pleaded: Destroy the film and you render its denouement of complete despair meaningless, do that and you might as well ban the whole thing. Whatever its demerits… it’s an honest film and the audiences I have tried it on have all emerged from it well-shaken and with the overall point of the movie embedded in their not always too sensitive brains.32

The BBFC refused to compromise and the film was duly cut before it was classified. In this instance, Trevelyan upheld his examiners’ initial objections and refused to bow to the pressures of the young director. The contrast between his dealings with Ken Russell and Michael Reeves is marked, yet as well as demonstrating his own personal response to specific material, it also reveals his pragmatic approach. The material in Russell’s film could be adapted to make it acceptable; the content of Reeves’ could not. Crucially, Russell also appreciated that Trevelyan was committed to the sensitive editing of his film and so worked with him in order to achieve the cuts. After Reeves refused to make the cuts required, Trevelyan worked with the production company and producer Tony Tenser to achieve the desired result, ruthlessly ignoring the artistic objections of the film’s director. Machiavellian and pragmatic, John Trevelyan was committed to safeguarding the future of the BBFC by ensuring that its decisions fitted in with prevailing notions of acceptability and permission yet did not 31

John Trevelyan to Michael Reeves, letter dated 29 April, 1968, BBFC file on Witchfinder General. 32 Michael Reeves to John Trevelyan, letter dated 7 April 1968, Ibid.

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compromise the artistic integrity of filmmakers. His working methods emphasised collaboration and negotiation and he recognised the importance of solidarity within the film industry and with bodies such as the ITA who faced similar issues with contentious material. He was well aware of the need to make the Board’s decisions as acceptable to the general public as possible and worked hard to maintain cordial relationships with local councils, filmmakers and the press. Nonetheless, despite his pragmatism, Trevelyan did make and enforce judgements based upon his own definitions of quality, pleasure and cultural value. He looked favourably on literary adaptations and work by acclaimed directors such as Joseph Losey or Ken Russell or producers such as Betty Box. His easy working relationships with established industry figures emerged over years of close collaboration and he rated the work of such individuals very highly. His dealings with producers and directors had a personal dimension as well as being fuelled by the need to make the correct classification decision at the correct time. Perhaps Trevelyan’s greatest failing was his inability to recognise his own personal prejudices. His dislike of lesbianism on film and his harsh treatment of The Killing of Sister George reveal the unevenness of his approach and the problems which it posed for any successor. In the early years of the 1970s, the Board could not have asked for a Secretary better suited to an uncertain and changing culture of permission. Yet his methods of working which relied so much on common sense and skilful use of personal contacts could not be guaranteed to work successfully for whoever took over his role. I want to now turn to the crossover period between Murphy and Trevelyan and how policy at the BBFC was affected by the change of leadership.

CHAPTER THREE A POISONED CHALICE

It is no coincidence that the change of leadership at the BBFC occurred shortly before what Guy Phelps terms “the censorship crisis” in 1971 and 1972.1 Stephen Murphy brought his own approach to the Board, but how did the change of leadership affect the day to day decisions of the BBFC? There are a small number of BBFC files from the early 1970s, which were commented upon by both Murphy and Trevelyan. Although many of these films are unexceptional within the wider scope of the decade, they are rendered important by the light they shed on the personal likes and dislikes and different approaches of both men. Some of the most high profile and contentious films of the late 1960s and early 1970s came from Andy Warhol’s Factory. Despite Trevelyan’s well-publicised defence of Warhol and Morrisey’s Flesh (1968), and his overt championing of the rights of similar films, the BBFC examiners objected strongly to Trash (1972) when it was submitted to the Board in early 1971. By February, Trevelyan was writing to the distributors of the film to inform them that due to the film’s graphic drug taking, it was highly unlikely that a certificate could be issued.2 However, the film was seized upon by some unlikely champions. At the behest of the distributors, prominent individuals including Lord Raglan and Sir John Stevas as well as Michael Schofield, a member of the Government’s advice committee on drug dependence, wrote to the BBFC assuring the Board that in their opinion, the film could do no harm but in fact “social good.”3 The fate of Trash hung in the balance as Stephen Murphy took up his new position in the summer of 1971. Murphy wrote to the film’s distributors in late July that he was very uneasy about the film and commented that “there is something of a rash of drug films coming up … 1

Guy Phelps, Film Censorship, (London: Victor Gallancz Ltd, 1975), 69. BBFC file on Trash 3 Ibid. 2

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we are very unhappy about creating an impression that drugs are an important part of the scene.”4 Despite his newness to the role, this statement was tactless at best and provocative at worst, and indicated the brusqueness of approach which would characterise Murphy’s relations with the film industry and the press. It is clear from the BBFC’s files that films were never considered in isolation and that prevailing social and cultural conditions were always acknowledged. However to call attention to the fact that Trash was being denied a certificate partly because of reasons beyond the content of the film, was highly inflammatory. The rejection of Trash led to its resubmission in August 1971, but the BBFC examiners still maintained that it contained “a number of revolting displays” and that “we cannot visualise this sort of stuff acceptable for an audience including girls and women.”5 Without a certificate, Trash was screened at film clubs in London, where it met with critical approval from this select audience. One independent filmmaker suggested in a letter to The Times that the BBFC’s refusal to certificate the film was slightly ridiculous as it was unlikely that anyone would go to the see the film and be surprised by its content. Such a film, he argued, would be seen only by film enthusiasts and those well aware of the type of content to be found in Warhol’s films.6 Despite such common sense denouncements of their decision, the BBFC still refused to certificate the film arguing that London audiences were not typical and that, “the approbation of a highly sophisticated cosmopolitan city should not be taken as a passport to audiences in the whole of the UK.”7 There is a distinction being made between what was deemed suitable for London audiences and for regional audiences, but there is also a secondary issue. The BBFC file documents how the examiners firmly believed that this particular film was being given preferential treatment because of its support from the avant-garde intelligentsia. Part of the examiner’s report for the film firmly declares, “the progressives must not have their way.”8 Such bald statements suggest that at this point in time, the BBFC examining team was reluctant to allow arguments about quality and art trump those of permission and acceptability. Further evidence of the film’s progressive and avant-garde credentials can be found in its 4

Ibid. Ibid. 6 Donald Factor ‘Letters to the Editor’ The Times, 24 December 1971, 11. 7 BBFC file on Trash. 8 Ibid. 5

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inclusion at the London Film Festival, where it was screened without a certificate in November 1971, despite opposition from the prominent GLC Tory Councillor, Frank Smith.9 The Times reported that at the time of its showing at the festival, the film had not been granted a certificate by the BBFC and that it was turned down by Stephen Murphy, a slight inaccuracy considering Murphy had inherited the problematic film from his predecessor.10 The BBFC files reveal that although the Board did refuse to certificate the film throughout 1971, Murphy took the decision to gauge the public’s opinion when the film was shown at the London Film Festival. This was an approach that Murphy would later use to great effect with other problematic films and indicates his willingness to test the judgements of the BBFC against the response of the general public. Such an approach was also been used by John Trevelyan and The Times documented his meeting with prominent film critics Dilys Powell and David Robinson in early 1971 to discuss Trash.11 Both BBFC Secretaries tested out responses to the film, yet targeted different groups; Trevelyan preferred to rely on his industry and press contacts, while Murphy consulted members of the public. These approaches to the same problem are indicative of the different operational style of the two men. Trevelyan’s meeting with two prominent film critics attracted positive press attention and highlighted how the BBFC were tackling a difficult problem in a thoughtful and open way. The Times dubbed the earnest discussion of Trash between Trevelyan and the film critics “ingeniously informal.”12 By contrast Murphy’s later work with consumer groups was not reported in the press at all, and has only been revealed by a careful examination of the archive file. Trevelyan’s keen awareness of the role played by the press is evident here, while Murphy’s behind the scenes operations were at least as successful, but did the BBFC no favours from a PR perspective. Ultimately, neither of these approaches directly benefitted Trash in 1971. It was only after a further round of research, co-ordinated by Professor James Halloran from the Centre of Mass Communication at the University of Leicester, which is

9

‘New Attempts to Stifle Trash’, The Times, 16 November, 1971, 14. Ibid. 11 ‘Censor forms Trash disposal unit’, The Times, 29 March 1971, 12. 12 Ibid., 10

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referred to but is not present in the film file, that the film was finally awarded a certificate in November 1972.13 Trash is an interesting case study for a number of reasons, but its principal importance here is that it sheds light on the approaches of Murphy and Trevelyan to the same very public case. What Trash also documents is the relationship between the head of the Board and the team of examiners, and that although the head of the BBFC was publicly perceived to be the person who made the final decision the strong views of the examiners could and did effectively prevent a film being certificated. Trash is perhaps an atypical example, for arguments about quality, importance, authorship and style can all be applied to the film, yet what about other films which reached the BBFC during this period of transition, notably those from more “typical” 1970s genres, such as horror or sexcomedy? How did Trevelyan and Murphy respond to these films? Did they both request the same cuts and were their standards the same? One film which is particularly illuminating is Burke and Hare made in 1971 by Armitage Productions and directed by Vernon Sewell. Before this film’s submission to the BBFC in 1971, in November 1970 the draft script was submitted for comments. In his letter to the production company, Trevelyan noted that: It is not a straight remake of the Burke and Hare story but rather imports extra material which essentially produces a combination of sex and violence. As you know this is always troublesome to us since we believe that it has its dangers, so I must warn you that if you include it, we shall probably have to cut your film quite considerably.14

What is significant here is that most of the specifically problematic areas within the script were highlighted by the BBFC examiners, whereas Trevelyan himself had more general concerns about the film, particularly its quality and overall tone, observing: My first reaction was one of surprise that you would want to make another Burke and Hare picture, since it is not all that long since we had quite a good one. Being rather familiar with the subject, I was interested to see

13 14

BBFC file on Trash. BBFC file on Burke and Hare

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what variations could be put into it and I found brothels and sexual perversion which frankly are not to my taste.15

Trevelyan’s main objection is that the film will be a remake and does not look to be a particularly good one. Once again this demonstrates that for Trevelyan, the material submitted was always bound up with notions of quality and taste which were determined by his own personal preferences and predilections. Paradoxically, Trevelyan’s comments on the script are not borne out by his reaction to the film itself. When the film was finally submitted to the BBFC in the summer of 1971, despite objections from the examiners whose report details a long list of required cuts, Trevelyan independently agreed with the production team that only two cuts were required. This is a typical example of the way in which Trevelyan worked, often overruling the decisions of his examiners, yet these were unusual times at the BBFC with Trevelyan due to retire from the Board at the end of the month and Murphy poised to take control. In a memo to Murphy dated 28 June 1971, Trevelyan outlines the current position of this film and what he has so far agreed with the production company: As you will see from these notes, [the examiners] asked for a long list of cuts in this film. I am asking the company to make two cuts now and have told them that the next step will be for you to see the film so that we can decide jointly what should be done.16

Here Trevelyan calmly overrides the decisions of his examiners and appears to suggest to his successor that this is a typical way of working. A file note from Trevelyan on the examiner’s report, specifically notes his decision to override the desired cut of the girl riding the man in the brothel as it is “very amusing.”17 So much for the film not being to the Secretary’s taste. In his efforts to ensure a smooth transition on this film, Trevelyan assumed that his successor would have the same response to the film as he did. Unfortunately this was not the case and as Murphy revealed in a letter to the production company, he had serious concerns about specific

15

John Trevelyan to Guido Coen, letter dated 3 November 1970. BBFC file on Burke and Hare. 16 Ibid. 17 Ibid.

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episodes in the film which featured flagellation, a threesome, a fight with a glass bottle and the recounting of a dirty story.18 Tellingly, in a private internal memo, Murphy revealed to the other examiners that with Burke and Hare, “we seem to be in the usual problem that John recommended only two cuts where we would like more.”19 Despite suffering from the promises already made by Trevelyan, Murphy did eventually override objections to the “silly dirty story” at the start of the film, agreeing with the production company it could stay on the grounds that it was “harmless.”20 On the other proposed cuts however, Murphy remained firm and ensured that the scene with the flagellation was cut entirely and the threesome and the violent scene with the glass bottle were substantially reduced. Looking at this film as an example, it is clear to see that the transition between General Secretaries was not smooth or problem free. Yet the compromise and collaboration which was such a feature of the BBFC in Trevelyan’s time can be seen in this and a number of other films which were passed under Murphy. Producers and directors responded to this continued negotiation in a positive way, with the producer of Burke and Hare, John Phillips writing to Murphy enthusiastically, “I am delighted we have been able to resolve our problems in such an amicable fashion and I know that we are going to get on famously in the future.”21 Clearly, for some, Murphy’s adoption of some of Trevelyan’s methods of working meant business as usual. I have drawn attention to the different approaches of Murphy and Trevelyan to the same films. However, this material is scanty and their recorded opinions on the same material meagre. Before comparing the approach and attitude of the two men further, I want to briefly consider the way in which Trevelyan’s own personal dislikes had come to shape 1970s BBFC policy. Personal opinions and objections can be tentatively mapped by a scrutiny of the individual decisions he was called upon to make in the early years of the decade, which were his last at the BBFC.

18

Ibid. Ibid. 20 Ibid. 21 Butchers Film Distributors to Stephen Murphy, letter dated 13 August 1971, BBFC file for Burke and Hare. 19

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One of Trevelyan’s most frequent concerns was over the presentation of material which seemed too realistic and which could be easily imitated. He objected to the graphic violence of Performance (1970), notably the beating and the forcible shaving of Chas, as well as the realistic courtroom scenes in 10 Rillington Place (1971) where the actual trial transcripts of Timothy Evans and John Christie formed part of the dialogue.22 Popular horror also occasionally incurred his personal displeasure; he supported his examiners in their request for the removal of a scene showing a woman’s intestines in Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde (1971), labelling it, “clearly disgusting” as well as cutting a close-up of an eye shot through with pins in Hands of the Ripper (1971).23 Perhaps the most interesting of Trevelyan’s specific objections is that which is revealed in the file for Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb (1971). Here Trevelyan supported his examiners in their objections to two scenes within the film and wrote personally to Michael Carreras stating: Our examiners have told me that, while the film is basically acceptable for the X category, they much disliked two scenes which show attendants in a mental hospital indulging in sadistic bullying of a patient, while other patients are bellowing from behind closed doors. I have never liked films which use incidents in mental hospitals for commercial exploitation and before passing the film, I would like to see these two scenes myself.24

Clearly Trevelyan considered this material to be unacceptable and exploitative and it was substantially trimmed before the film was certificated.25 Such specific objections shed light on Trevelyan’s character and background, but the chief censor’s consistency suffered from his own methods of working. He supported his examiners in their concerns over the subjects dealt with in The Wife Swappers (1970) yet overruled them in their objections to the moral tone of Cool it Carol (1970) and A Nice Girl Like Me (1969).26 While refusing to accept graphic nudity in Up Pompeii (1971) and insisting on a trim to the telephone antics of Britt Ekland in Get 22

BBFC files on Performance and 10 Rillington Place BBFC files on Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde and Hands of the Ripper. 24 BBFC file on Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb 25 Concerns about depictions of the mentally ill remained part of unofficial Board policy after Trevelyan’s retirement. Evidence of this policy can be found in the BBFC files for Asylum, Family Life and One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest. 26 BBFC files on The Wife Swappers, Cool it Carol and A Nice Girl Like Me. 23

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Carter (1971), Trevelyan frequently allowed the Carry On films to push the boundaries of permission in terms of nudity and dialogue.27 The Carry On films are one of the most important series of British films and their varied progress through the censorship process deserves particular attention. As a long running series which consistently drew on the same formula of suggestive lines, double entendres and saucy visuals, it is interesting to see how the films fared in a changing social and cultural landscape. Trevelyan had a close personal relationship with both Peter Rogers and Gerald Thomas evidenced from their discussions on the files for Carry On Camping (1969) and Carry On at your Convenience (1971).28 Often jokes were cut from the Carry On films with the agreement that similar lines would remain. The file for Carry On Camping is a good example of how this negotiation worked in practice. Following objections from some of his examiners to parts of the film, Trevelyan viewed the film himself and met with Gerald Thomas to confirm the proposed cuts to the film. A follow-up note on the file from the BBFC Secretary blandly states “discussed the film with Mr Thomas and went through the cuts required with him.”29 This amicable business was concluded a few days later when Thomas wrote to Trevelyan confirming that cuts had been made to both visuals and dialogue as per his suggestions, but the specifics of which remain tantalisingly unclear. Yet times were changing and one of the decade’s early films, Carry On Henry (1971) caused the BBFC a considerable headache. One of the examiners bemoaned in December 1970 that, “this is a difficult film to reduce to the A category as practically every joke has a sexual meaning… the visuals merely counterpoint the sex jokes.”30 Evidently, the usual problems of innuendo were present but there was also the issue of nudity; Carry On films were pushing boundaries in order to compete with more visually explicit films. The cuts requested for Carry On Henry included the removal of the scene where Sid James as King Henry sees Barbara Windsor naked, as well as the more mundane rejection of dialogue lines such as “You are a hard man... I like them hard!”31

27

BBFC files for Get Carter and Up Pompeii. BBFC files for Carry On Camping and Carry On at Your Convenience. 29 BBFC file for Carry On Camping. 30 BBFC file on Carry On Henry 31 Ibid. 28

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However, despite the impressive list of cuts requested for Carry On Henry in an illuminating letter, John Trevelyan wrote to Gerald Thomas in January 1971 informing him: I am sending you a note of the points that have been put to me in relation to the A category. Please do not think that we shall want to make all the cuts mentioned - they are at this stage for discussion between us.32

Unlike his examiners who detailed why the film could not fit into the A category, Trevelyan was perfectly willing to negotiate and saw the submission of the film for categorisation as the first stage of a process. Intriguingly the agreements which were made regarding the cuts in Carry On Henry were reached in a phone call between Thomas and Trevelyan and are only referred to in a brief letter from Thomas which stated, “further to our meeting yesterday – confirm cuts made.”33 It is clear to see that Trevelyan’s established ways of working benefited the Carry On films and his personal objections to specific content did not adversely affect the series. The fact that the films were comedies and the sexual content was kept to a minimal, unlike the risqué grittiness of Get Carter or the sleazy and explicit narrative of Cool it Carol, allowed Trevelyan to make allowances. This tried and tested working relationship was challenged when Trevelyan retired and Stephen Murphy took the reins. The first Carry On film to cross Murphy’s desk was Carry on Matron (1972) which was submitted in December 1971. The usual objections were raised by the examiners to some of the innuendo-laden lines in the film, yet Thomas and Murphy were able to amicably agree on all the cuts except one. This was a line spoken over a visual of a naked girl in the bath which Thomas argued was, “a master scene and would be impossible to remove without adversely affecting the continuity of scenes either side.”34 A month later and Stephen Murphy was writing firmly back to Thomas: The examiners tell me that Reel 8 has not, in fact, been cut as we would have hoped. As you will know, we do try to keep nudity to an absolute 32

John Trevelyan to Gerald Thomas, letter dated 1 January 1971, BBFC file for Carry On Henry. 33 BBFC file for Carry On Henry. 34 Gerald Thomas to Stephen Murphy, letter dated 20 December 1971, BBFC file for Carry On Matron.

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Chapter Three minimum in ‘A’ pictures. Can you help us a little more on the reel? I will willingly look at it again, I am sorry I didn’t see it on resubmission, but as you may appreciate, I have been a little preoccupied. 35

Murphy is clearly adopting the same approach as Trevelyan had in 1970 and 1971; smutty lines could remain but nudity was not to be included in the A category. Carry On Matron encountered further problems with the submission of the trailer, when a whole raft of language, plus a different sequence of another naked girl in a bath were all seen to be unsuitable for the U certificate desired by the company. These issues were finally resolved with the removal of the word “cock” from the dialogue; all other cuts being waived by Murphy and the production company agreed to present the girl in the bath with “no nipples showing.”36 Times were changing and Murphy’s adherence to Trevelyan’s established yet informally enforced policy of refusing to accept nudity within A certificate films was crumbling. There was also the contradictory approach adopted to frontal and rear female nudity by the Board with Murphy waiving a suggested cut to the trailer from Carry On Abroad (1972), which included a shot of a naked woman in a shower, as she was shown from behind.37 Rear nude shots were clearly allowable in this instance, even in the A certificated trailer. By 1975, the BBFC examiners were advocating a cut to Carry On Behind (1975), requesting that shots showing a topless dancer be removed from the film. Murphy stepped in to overrule the cut, noting pragmatically on the file: I know this is a step forward, and I would have preferred to have the opportunity for discussion with the examiners before going ahead. However, time presses. In my view, this sort of material is now so firmly established in The Sun and The Mirror that we have no longer any justification for keeping it out of ‘A’.38

What is evident here is how Murphy believed in adapting to the changing social mores and expectations of contemporary society. He did not believing in preventing something being seen on film when it could easily be seen somewhere else, an approach which was laudable but which would cause problems in the near future. 35

Stephen Murphy to Gerald Thomas, letter dated 30 December 1971. Ibid. BBFC file for Carry On Matron. 37 BBFC file on Carry On Abroad 38 BBFC file for Carry On Behind 36

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It is easy to see in Murphy’s decisions, a continuation of the same liberal policy adopted by Trevelyan with an emphasis on personal relationships with key individuals. But the files also show that Murphy was keen to find his own way of working at the BBFC. His initial dealings with Gerald Thomas appear hesitant and uncertain, when compared to the firmness which characterises his later correspondence for the files of Carry On Girls (1973) and Carry On Dick (1974) and his assured handling of Carry On Behind.39 The Carry On material reveals just how Trevelyan actively negotiated what was permissible, whereas Murphy was more inclined to request more cuts and support the views of his examining team, provided they fitted in with broader patterns of permission. Murphy’s approach to censorship had been fostered by his years at the ITA working with television material. It is interesting to consider whether there was parity between what Murphy would allow on television and what he would permit as part of a film, or whether his approach to problematic content shifted as he acknowledged the differences between these mediums. Did his approach to film material develop from his background in television censorship or was it simply easier to allow his popular predecessor’s established policy to continue unchallenged?

39

BBFC files for Carry On Girls, Carry On Dick and Carry On Behind

PART II: THE MURPHY YEARS (1971-1975)

CHAPTER FOUR AN UNEASY INHERITANCE

From 1965 to 1971 Stephen Murphy had worked at the Independent Television Authority (ITA) as Senior Programmes Officer offering advice and feedback to programme makers and the general public on the content of programmes.1 This position made him, on paper at least, an ideal person to step into Trevelyan’s shoes when he retired in 1971. However Murphy’s role at the ITA was behind the scenes and he was unprepared for the full glare of publicity which would accompany his every decision at the BBFC. The ITA papers indicate that Murphy drew heavily on his own personal views to shape his approach to censorship and the bluntness and honestly which would become such a feature of his work at the BBFC is also evident. In an interview with The Times in early 1971, the reporter noted: Britain’s new film censor, Mr Stephen Murphy, who will take over from Mr John Trevelyan on July 1st, made it clear yesterday that he holds no brief for cleaning up the screen …‘cheerful’ is a description that comes readily to mind for a man who has, since 1965, been protector of our sensibilities concerning commercial television.2

This resounding endorsement was to prove slightly pre-emptive. Although Murphy was well versed in the processes of censoring material for broadcast on television, he was an outsider to the film industry. In a Sight and Sound article from Autumn 1971, which drew attention to Murphy’s willingness to follow Trevelyan’s policies, author David Wilson noted, “fears have been voiced that Murphy’s background in the more cautious area of television may inhibit his approach.”3 As well as 1

The Independent Television Authority was renamed the Independent Broadcasting Authority in 1972 but for clarity is referred to as the ITA throughout this and all subsequent chapters. 2 Chris Dunkley, ‘Too much violence new censor says’ The Times, 19 March 1971. 3 David Wilson, ‘Waiting for Murphy’ Sight and Sound 40:4 (Autumn 1971), 189.

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expressed concerns about the differences between the industries, the article also acknowledges that the backlash against the so-called permissive society had already begun and that it would be a difficult time for whoever took charge of the BBFC.4 Murphy had extensive experience from his work at the ITA, but did this help or hinder him during his time at the BBFC, and did the two organisations approach censorship in different ways? An ITA memo, written in 1971 clearly identifies the Authority’s position. It states: The reason why a censorship body exists in television is not simply that a second opinion may be valuable …It is rather that, when a medium (unlike the press or the theatre) uses a scarce resource to which few people can have access, and reaches outlets to which many millions of people have the easiest possible access, there must be clear and well-defined responsibility for what that medium does.5

Here the ITA is acknowledging that its role is less about problematic content and more about the massive influence of this content within the all-pervasive medium of television. It is interesting that the ITA draws a firm line between indirect media and the directness of television, as this is something the BBFC was never able to fully get to grips with. No mention is made of the BBFC anywhere in the document yet it is difficult not to draw comparisons between the two organisations. The ITA memo references its statutory authority noting that, “an organisation such as the ITA can be answerable to the public and to Parliament in a way that a thousand creators of programmes cannot.”6 Unlike the BBFC, the ITA had Parliament-endorsed powers which enabled it to make decisions about what could be shown to the general public and which also made it fully accountable. The memo reveals how the organisation saw itself as an intermediary, working to offset the whims of the programme makers on the one hand and the sensibilities of the general public on the other. There is a clear overlap here with the way in which the BBFC operated, yet there is one key difference. The ITA memo stresses how it rarely intervened once the product was finished, observing:

4

Ibid. ITA memo ‘The ITA and Censorship’ dated 25 May 1971, 2. Accessed from file Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume II, January 68 – September 81, held within the ITA archive at the University of Bournemouth. 6 Ibid. 5

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The Authority is not merely at the end of a production line, pronouncing that a final artefact is or is not right for the public. Nor is it in the simple but absurd position of the makers of the Hay’s Code declaring in advance what types of incident will or will not offend.7

Unlike the BBFC which frequently assessed the impact of the finished product - often drawing attention to the way in which sound and visuals increased the impact of the film – the ITA worked with programme makers at a much earlier stage. However, as the BBFC’s files have shown, the Board was also heavily involved with filmmakers and production companies long before films were submitted in their final form. Both organisations worked to achieve the same aims in similar ways and at early stages of the production process, yet relations between the BBFC, the wider film industry and the general public were often pushed to breaking point, a direct contrast to the smoother working relationships of the ITA. One important difference in the way the two organisations operated was that the ITA could allow content to be broadcast but restrict it to a specific time thereby effectively reducing the chances of controversial content being seen by children. In restricting content in this way, the ITA was able to delegate the responsibility for deciding what could be seen in the home to families and parents. The BBFC did not have this freedom and instead its decisions had to anticipate what was suitable for the average 14 or 18 year old, with these decisions then being applied nationally and in the public space of the cinema auditorium, rather than in the private space of the home. An ITA letter to a viewer in 1976 clarifies that as well as operating within the confines of the Broadcasting Act, the Authority also drew on its own Family Viewing Policy and Code on Violence.8 Both of these were part of internal policy, and they allowed the ITA to address the varied needs of the audience and limit what was shown before the 9pm watershed. But how did Murphy personally interpret the policy of the ITA and how did he apply it when working at the BBFC? In March 1968, Murphy wrote in response to a letter of complaint about material on television that:

7

Ibid. Michael Gillies letter to a viewer dated 6 September 1976. Accessed from file Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume II, January 68 – September 81, held within the ITA archive at the University of Bournemouth. 8

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Chapter Four The impact of a television programme is conditioned at least as much by the circumstances in which it is viewed as by the programme itself. This factor is much more important in television than in the cinema where, the mere fact of being members of a single audience, in relatively unfamiliar surroundings, does seem to condition people’s reactions. If you saw as many viewers’ letters as I do, you would know that the same programme can arouse a wide variety of reaction – often unpredictable reactions - in different homes.9

The direct tone of the letter is very similar to the letters written by Murphy in his years at the BBFC, including the thoughtful consideration of the larger questions. He is not simply supplying the disgruntled viewer with a glib answer, but calling attention to the bigger issues. Such a response demonstrates his awareness of the various questions posed by issues of censorship and the importance of the viewing experience on individual spectators, as well as the responses of those individual viewers. Such an enlightened attitude should have stood him in good stead at the BBFC. Under Trevelyan’s leadership the Board drew on the importance of individual responses to material, with the examiners frequently writing in the first person to emphasise their own reactions, (The Devils being an excellent case in point), yet the Board as an organisation could only make broad judgements and could not cater to the needs of individuals. This contradiction lies at the basis of all debates about censorship; how can the audience be protected when the audience consists of thousands of individuals with differing opinions, prejudices and tastes? And who should make the decisions to protect this heterogeneous group from things which some, none or all of them may find offensive, harmful or damaging? The fact that Murphy, like Trevelyan, understood this problem so well and was comfortable discussing these issues, makes it even more perplexing that he struggled so much at the BBFC. Murphy’s role at the ITA involved dealing with an industry which he knew well and the Authority itself had a clearly defined view of how it should operate, which made his job far easier. As an ITA memo of 1971 eloquently put it: 9

Stephen Murphy letter to a viewer dated 22 March 1968 regarding material on TV. Accessed from file Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume II, January 68 – September 81, held within the ITA archive at the University of Bournemouth.

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Inevitably, somewhere between the committed creator of programmes to the millions of diverse viewers stands the Authority; it tries to balance assertion and protest; it respects the original thinker’s right sometimes to shock his public and the public’s right not to be overmuch assaulted by shock.10

As another organisation which was an interface between programme or film makers and the general public, the BBFC often drew attention to the fact that it had to make decisions which were in line with current public tastes and standards. The ITA had to work in a similar way, but its role was further complicated by the immediacy of the television medium. This was an issue which affected all broadcasters, and the BBC addressed it in a pamphlet published in the late 1960s. Here the organisation called attention to the viewing experience and the way in which the television occupied a central space within the home, observing “there is in broadcasting, the constant and inextinguishable awareness that the audience consists of family groups, quite commonly seeing a programme as a family group in their own homes.”11 Unlike the cinema, the television was ever-present and children could, in theory, have unrestricted access to the material which was broadcast. As well as being presented in the home, television content also has an immediacy which makes it very different from film material. One issue which the ITA files identify as heavily problematic was the politically inflammatory situation in Northern Ireland. A letter to a viewer who had queried the type of content which would not be shown on television offers an interesting insight into the decisions the ITA made in this period. It confirms that: Our current affairs and documentary output over the last five years has faced certain difficulties in its coverage of Northern Ireland. In 1970 one edition of Thames’ This Week was not shown in Ulster although it was transmitted throughout the rest of the United Kingdom; the reason was fear that its content might incite violence.12 10

ITA memo ‘The ITA and Censorship’ dated 25 May 1971, 2. Accessed from file Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume II, January 68 – September 81, held within the ITA archive at the University of Bournemouth. 11 Control of subject matter in BBC Programmes (London: BBC London Publishing. undated circa 1967), 7. 12 Letter from Michael Gillies, Programme Administrative Officer, 6 September 1976, ITA files, Volume 2 Jan 1968-Sept 1981, Censorship and Banning: Drama Internal policy.

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The letter continues to list a number of other examples of content which were all restricted including an edition of Granada’s World in Action which addressed attitudes in Ireland to the Provisional IRA and an ATV documentary about Michael Collins which was withdrawn from broadcast because it did not meet the required level of impartiality demanded by the Authority.13 Issues of political sensitivity were not something which worried the BBFC; the Board was more concerned about general cultural and social anxieties. Contemporary issues which were brought to the screen usually had enough of a delay for them not to be inflammatory by the time of their release. It is interesting that the problems faced by the ITA with regard to the Northern Ireland issues, all featured in non-fiction programmes. This is another crucial difference between the two media; television has always carried with it associations of non-fiction, documentary and truth, whereas film has conventionally been presented as fiction, fantasy and escapism. The lack of political films made in the 1970s which addressed contemporary and relevant issues suggests that television was a much better medium for exploring the burning issues of the day. At the ITA Murphy dealt with programme makers and regional broadcasters; at the BBFC he oversaw the film submissions of an international film industry, supervised a team of examiners, passed judgements on finished products, and perhaps most crucially had to justify these decisions to the press and to the public. As previously shown the BBFC Secretary had a crucial impact upon Board policy and the comments offered by both Trevelyan and Murphy on the same film files reveal the differences and similarities in their approach. Trevelyan’s own idiosyncratic likes and dislikes accounted for BBFC policy by the time of his retirement in August 1971. But what were Murphy’s personal likes and dislikes and did he bring these to bear on BBFC policy when he took office? Possibly as a result of his work at the more rigidly structured ITA, the early decisions Murphy made tended to support the explicitly expressed objections of the BBFC examiners. It is interesting to note that while his comments on the internal film files are more informal than Trevelyan’s, at the same time his letters to production companies (unless personal friends) simply detail the list of cuts which the examining team have identified. 13

Ibid.

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There is an interesting duality here of privately expressed opinions and formal letters to the broader industry. It is also possible to see in this initial approach a reticence and uncertainty; Murphy was dealing with an industry which viewed him as an outsider and whose key players he did not know. This was to change as he established personal contacts and began to adopt an approach based on the Trevelyan model, but in his early days at the Board it is possible to discern his personal objections to specific material. In the file for Diamonds are Forever (1971), his concerns about the violence are evident and he notes thoughtfully, “I am worried by the incidents of violence in the film, which although nowhere near the intensity of some films, are still vulnerable to public criticism and possibly even to imitation.”14 He also objected to the bloody violence in Dirty Harry (1971) and even after the film was classified as an X, he wrote to Columbia suggesting that it would be “politically wise” to reduce the violence further.15 Murphy’s attitude to rape was also very firmly defined and he refused to accept the lengthy scenes in The Four Dimensions of Greta (1972). Interestingly, his objections to this film were not simply to the graphic display but also the way in which rape was discussed and treated within the film. The examination team identified the problematic parts of the film and Murphy wrote to distributors Hemdale to elaborate further in an illuminating letter which reveals a great deal about his own moral code. He writes: We would still like some reduction in reel 4A. It seems to me that our original exception form was badly phrased, but what we were really trying to eliminate was the rather flip attitude towards multiple rape which develops in this episode. We are concerned, therefore, to see some shortening, not in the scene in the office, but the conversation which follows outside the office door. Forgive us, but we really do not think that rape should be taken as lightly as in this scene.16

14

BBFC file for Diamonds are Forever. Stephen Murphy to Columbia, letter dated 16 February 1972, BBFC file for Dirty Harry. 16 Stephen Murphy to Hemdale, letter dated 22 May 1972, BBFC file for Four Dimensions of Greta. 15

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It is not simply the visuals which are causing the problems but the overall tone of the film in its treatment of this particular issue. Murphy also had a similar reaction to the extreme material in Hitchcock’s Frenzy (1972) and recommended the shortening of the murder scene, some reduction of the bad language and considerable reduction of “the first body in the bed” before the film could be considered for the AA certificate.17 Murphy’s primary censorship concerns were about screen violence. In an interview in 1971 before becoming BBFC Secretary, he explained his specific concerns: There is too much violence and I am concerned not so much with the variety we see in Westerns but with violence in domestic situations – actions involving razors, knives, broken bottles – where the viewer and children in particular, are not carried into a fantasy world but actually find it extremely easy to identify with the scene and the surroundings.18

Murphy would have been very familiar with the ITA’s Code of Violence which formed the basis of internal policy. However there is nothing within the BBFC files to suggest that he wanted to introduce something similar at the Board. His anxiety about the way violent behaviour was presented on screen, with little attention paid to social responsibility, coloured Murphy’s reactions to a wide range of material including Day of The Jackal (1973) about which he expressed tentative concerns over the script, writing to the director and producer in 1972: I would like to think that we could aim at an AA category, which would mean that we would ask you to be reasonable discreet with the love scene, but in particular not to have too much blood in the actual killings. I would hope that the tension of the plot would carry the film rather than actual violence …we are taking a very tough line with the sort of killing that is suggested by the script at this point.19

Eventually Murphy’s concerns over the violence and torture in this particular scene were waived and the film was passed as an AA without cuts. However Murphy’s unease was echoed many years later in the video forms for the film where the examiner writing in 1987, pinpointed the 17

BBFC file for Frenzy. Chris Dunkley, ‘Too much violence new censor says’ The Times, 19 March 1971, 2. 19 Stephen Murphy to John Woolf, letter dated 24 May 1972, BBFC file for Day of the Jackal. 18

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same scene and stated flatly, “will not now allow this scene within the PG category”.20 The video examiner also observed that the film features a “combination of sex and violence” and wonders why this was not objected too more strongly at the time.21 Murphy’s anxieties about this kind of violence grew during his years at the BBFC and culminated in an epic and public row with director Michael Winner over his film Scorpio (1973). This film was awarded an X certificate by the BBFC after the examining team objected to a scene in which a man is doused in petrol and then threatened with lighted matches. Winner was furious with this decision and wrote to the BBFC appealing to them to change their categorisation of his film, complaining vigorously, “to use the word violence in relation to Scorpio seems a total misnomer.”22 Supported by BBFC President Lord Harlech, who believed the film to be, “dangerous material for young teenagers”, Murphy wrote to Winner to explain the Board’s concerns: I quite agree that Scorpio is a very restrained film and we are really stuck over just this single scene. I am sorry I just think it is too socially dangerous. We are always worried and frightened by easily imitable scenes of violence, particularly those involving materials which it is so easy to get hold of.23

Winner failed to be reassured by this argument and used the press to publicly rail against the BBFC and against Murphy in particular. Doing so effectively broke the “gentleman’s agreement” which Trevelyan had alluded to in his letter to Bob Frazer when he claimed that filmmakers and the BBFC did not speak about contentious sequences in specific films. As well as the mainstream press, Winner also vilified Murphy in the industry press, complaining in CinemaTV Today: I find both in the attitude of Mr Murphy, and in the end result, a fear of the Festival of Light and other would-be-censors... pictures which are made with one audience in mind and seemingly to adhere to old standards,

20

Ibid. Ibid. 22 Michael Winner to Stephen Murphy, letter dated 10 March 1973, BBFC file for Scorpio. 23 Stephen Murphy to Michael Winner, letter dated 19 March 1973. Ibid. 21

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Chapter Four suddenly find themselves in severe categories, with the audience for which they were intended denied access.24

Here Winner is seizing upon the category decisions given to seemingly innocuous films including Scorpio and ignoring the careful reasoning of the BBFC about imitable violence, in favour of accusations of poorjudgement and allegiance to right wing pressure groups. He also goes on to claim: Having started by passing some admirable films without cuts, there is no doubt in my mind that Mr Murphy has gone into a panicky and tragic retreat. In this I believe he is grossly over-influenced by the vociferous minority who make it almost a profession to attack films which go against their limited view, or indeed any population, should be permitted to see. 25

As well as these stinging public attacks within a film industry publication, Winner also contacted the national press. The BBFC file on Scorpio contains a note from one of the examiners which records how he was contacted by a journalist from The Sun wanting a BBFC response to Winner’s published comments. The memo notes how Winner claimed Murphy had become “paranoid” and had been “routed by the Festival of Light” and that he was undoubtedly the wrong man for the job of BBFC General Secretary.26 The memo records how the examiner informed the journalist that although he was not a spokesman for the Board, Winner’s comments were “a load of rubbish” as well as being possibly defamatory.27 Murphy refused to respond publicly to Winner’s comments and stood by the X certificate awarded to Scorpio. Yet the controversy continued as Winner submitted the film independently to local councils-something he was fully entitled to do-asking them to make up their own minds about the certification. Confusion reigned; some passed it A, others AA, while some upheld the X and others rejected the film altogether. Some councils contacted the BBFC for advice and were informed by Murphy: In general, the film falls into the AA category. It is a good deal tougher and contains rather more violence than we could accept for the A certificate. But we were concerned with one particular sequence in which a man is 24

Michael Winner ‘Disenchantment with the Censor’ CinemaTV Today, 11 August 1973, 3. 25 Ibid. 26 BBFC file for Scorpio. 27 Ibid.

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drenched with petrol and information is extracted from him under threat of lighted matches. This seems to us to be an idea that should not be presented to adolescents in this way. 28

Many councils disagreed, in particular the Greater London Council who certificated the film A, thereby making it available to children with a warning to adults that some of the material might not be suitable. In the wake of this national confusion, Winner asked the BBFC to review the film with a view to changing its classification in September 1973. Perhaps stung by Winner’s accusations of paranoia, Murphy flatly refused stubbornly replying “my inclination is to leave the situation as it is, certainly for the time being.”29 However, the BBFC could only hold out against the absurdities of local council censorship for so long and by the start of October, Murphy wrote to all local councils confirming that the BBFC had revised the certificate for Scorpio and certificated it, albeit reluctantly, as an AA. The conflict with Winner was not an isolated one and the two men would clash again over Death Wish in 1974. Murphy’s personal feelings about violence were clear but less clear-cut were his responses to films addressing issues of sex and morality. He expressed reservations about Cabaret (1972), allocating the film an X certificate and justifying this decision with the claim that, “there is a good deal in Cabaret that one would want 16 or 17 year olds to see, but the whole tone of the film was adult, in particular the degeneracy of Berlin in 1931.”30 Passing the film as an uncut X may have been suitable in 1972, yet by 1986 when the film was reviewed for video release, both examiners felt that the film was a natural 15, with one describing it as “very tame and innocent … compared with the average rock video of 1986.”31 This may have been the case but back in 1972 Murphy was clearly concerned about the tone of the film as well as its veiled references to homosexuality and abortion. From the evidence offered by the archive, it is clear to see that Murphy, just as much as Trevelyan, based his decisions upon his own personal standards and moral code. Trevelyan and Murphy shared many of the same basic concerns; both were worried about violence which could be 28

Stephen Murphy to local councils, various dates, Ibid. Stephen Murphy to Michael Winner, letter dated, 6 September 1973. Ibid. 30 BBFC file for Cabaret. 31 Ibid. 29

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imitated, and the need to ensure material was socially responsible. Murphy insisted on representations of rape being handled sensitively, while Trevelyan challenged depictions of mental illness which he felt were inappropriate. The combination of personal response and informal Board policy ensured that the BBFC were able to make their decisions based upon what they felt was currently acceptable, but how could such an approach respond to some of the most extreme cinematic material of the decade?

CHAPTER FIVE THE CENSORSHIP CRISIS

Guy Phelps identifies the winter of 1971/1972 as a time of crisis for the BBFC.1 While it was certainly the case that the classification decisions of the BBFC were being questioned by local councils, creating a two tier system of censorship and undermining the credibility of the Board, to call this a “censorship crisis” is not entirely accurate. Censorship was a hotly contested topic at this time, but in the early years of the decade, the Murphy-led Board was merely continuing the same tradition of liberal classification established by John Trevelyan. Although Murphy was acutely aware of the debate raging in the press about his suitability for the job - ‘I’m just a failure. (This I gather is a majority view!)’ he quipped in a letter to James Carreras - he fought to remain aloof from the battle for the nation’s moral welfare.2 In this period of purported “crisis” established film critics and reviewers took issue with the Board over its categorisation of specific films. The BBFC was roundly condemned by a range of individuals and organisations who failed to recognise the approach the Board was taking as it attempted to negotiate the mood of increased permissiveness with the need to protect the vulnerable and the easily influenced. The BBFC’s approach to Straw Dog (1971), The Devils (1971), A Clockwork Orange (1971) and Last Tango in Paris (1972) can be pieced together from what remains of the archive material. Much of the material relating to Straw Dogs is missing, but what remains offers a valuable insight into how the Board evaluated films with extreme content and how different its response was from the media’s response. Evening Standard critic Alexander Walker, who would later defend Last Tango in Paris, termed Peckinpah’s Straw Dogs “vicious and degrading” while Fergus 1

Guy Phelps, Film Censorship, (London: Victor Gallancz Ltd, 1975), 69. Stephen Murphy to James Carreras, 3 January 1972 taken from BBFC file for Vampire Circus.

2

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Cashin writing in The Sun labelled it “a mindlessly revolting pornography of violence.”3 This extreme reaction was completely at odds with the view of the BBFC examiners who noted, “we were all agreed upon the massive impact of this film and we were equally agreed that it is tremendously enjoyable for the most part and compulsive viewing.”4 Though the BBFC appreciated the quality of the film, the Board did have concerns about the rape scene and it was duly cut. Press reports that the film was released uncut were simply untrue. However, the cuts made to the rape scene in Straw Dogs only served to make the problems worse as the scene now appeared to show an entirely different sexual act taking place. A note on the file reveals that the BBFC were aware of this new problem and decided to adopt a pragmatic approach to the inevitable backlash, with Stephen Murphy privately acknowledging, “I fear there is nothing we can do about it, save a show of righteous indignation when accused.”5 In response to a letter of complaint about the ‘bestiality’ in the film, Murphy outlined the Board’s position and offered a careful explanation of how he and his examiners approached the film: There are none of the ‘blood shots’ – blood spurting, bodies twitching etc that one finds in exploitative films. We at the Board will do all we can to stop filmmakers exploiting violence, but when a serious filmmaker makes a serious film about violence, I think we would be failing in our public duty if we prevented people from seeing it – however unpopular our decision may be.6

Murphy is clearly making distinctions between serious films which tackled serious issues, and those which sought to exploit to achieve cheap thrills. The Board’s stance was clear: if a film’s violence was factual or made with honourable intent, then it could be permitted, within reason, whereas exploitative, thrill-seeking sensationalism such as some of the more extreme material in Doctor Jekyll and Sister Hyde (1971) or Twins of Evil (1971) was not permitted.7 Unfortunately, this careful distinction about violence in film made little difference to the press.

3

Alexander Walker, Evening Standard, 25 November 1971 and Fergus Cashin, The Sun, 7 January 1972. 4 BBFC file for Straw Dogs. 5 Ibid. 6 Stephen Murphy to a viewer, letter dated 7 December 1971. Ibid. 7 BBFC files for Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde and Twins of Evil.

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It was the print media which whipped up a frenzy around this particular clutch of films and brought them to the general attention of the public. In a Sight and Sound article from 1973, Phelps warned of the negative influence of the media and how this led to local councils choosing to view films based upon partial information or disinformation, provided by either pressure groups or the press.8 Phelps claimed that the approach to controversial films taken by the press was often misleading and inaccurate and that this attitude fuelled a debate about film censorship which was “founded on hysteria and ignorance [and] is hardly conducive to the establishing of a more satisfactory system.”9 Phelps condemned this approach of the tabloid press, and located it within a wider field of journalism where “permissiveness, immorality, acts of deviance or aggression are exposed in minute, titillating detail”10 By contrast, in Parliament, the broadsheets and in academic circles, the importance of a system of censorship were being openly debated, with the actions of the BBFC being defended as well as condemned. Even as successive governments periodically rejected calls in the House of Commons to initiate a review of film censorship or to investigate the work of the BBFC, other powerful interest groups began to push forward an agenda of their own. This agenda was not simply to bemoan the falling standards in society, but rather to campaign for legislative action and changes to the obscenity laws. Pressure groups such as the Festival of Light and the National Viewers and Listeners Association (NVALA) were keen contributors to the censorship crisis and their importance and influence on local councils cannot be underestimated. In 1972, the Greater London Council (GLC) began to inspect all films passed by the BBFC which it perceived to be controversial, and alter categories accordingly. Enid Wistrich, the Chairman of the Film Viewing Board at the GLC between 1973 and 1975, claimed that the GLC relied on the decisions of the BBFC “99% of the time” but such public questioning of its authority was severely damaging to the credibility of the Board.11 Following the GLC’s lead, other local councils began to review controversial films thus creating a system by which a film could be banned in one area but shown in another. Still more damaging than this absurdity 8

G. Phelps, ‘Censorship and the Press’, Sight and Sound 42: 3 (1973), 138. Ibid, 140. 10 Ibid, 138. 11 Enid Wistrich, ‘I don’t mind the sex, it’s the violence’: Film Censorship Explored (London: Marion Boyars Publishers, 1978), 26 and 108. 9

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was that judgements about what the public could see were being taken at grass roots level by those poorly qualified to make such decisions. In Portsmouth the Fire Services and Public Control committee began to independently inspect all films denied a BBFC certificate. Every Wednesday afternoon, at a different cinema in the city, the committee would view such films as Danish Blue (1968), Hands off Gretel and Without a Stitch (1968) to decide if they could be screened to the general public.12 Unfortunately although the records of the screenings exist in the city archives, no personal responses to the films have been recorded and the files merely note whether the film would be granted an exhibition license or not. As well as watching the extremes of sexploitation which were submitted for classification, local councils also began to consider a number of high profile texts. One of the most famous films which caused local authorities to flex their censorship muscles was Ken Russell’s The Devils. This film was to cause massive problems for the BBFC and for the wider film industry as the press, local authorities and pressure groups all focused their attentions on this provocative text. The Devils arrived at the BBFC in a rough cut version in January 1971. Both the BBFC and the production studio Warner Bros demanded substantial cuts and Russell complied with some (although not all) of these requests and resubmitted the film in April. Further negotiations between Russell and Trevelyan followed and the film was finally certificated as an X by Trevelyan who termed the film “brilliant” and promptly retired from the Board effectively handing his successor a veritable poisoned chalice.13 As Aldgate and Robertson identify, the problems faced by this film were exacerbated by timing. 14 Social and political conditions prompted by the election of Edward Heath’s Conservative administration were set firmly against the liberalisation of the arts, and additionally, in the three months since the film’s initial submission to the BBFC and the ensuing squabbles with the production company, opponents of the film had mobilised.

12

Hands off Gretel was not certificated. Minutes of Fire Services and Public Control Committee meetings 1971 -1974, books CCM1/54 and CCM1/55, Portsmouth City Archives. 13 Extensive notes on The Devils can be found within James Robertson, The Hidden Cinema: British Film Censorship in Action 1913 -1975. (London: Routledge, 1993 2nd Edition) 14 Anthony Aldgate and James C Robertson, Censorship in the Theatre and the Cinema (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2005), 176-178.

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Chief amongst the opponents of the film was the Festival of Light which wrote to all local authorities urging them to ban the film. In the midst of the press and public outrage which surrounded its release, Stephen Murphy bravely remained firm and defended the film his predecessor had passed, writing to an outraged viewer, “the Board did not think this was suitable for anyone but adults, but we continue in our view that it is deeply thought-provoking. [The] film has much to say that is relevant to the world today.”15 Trevelyan himself also defended Russell’s film commenting, “it raises the question of whether artistic integrity justifies total freedom.”16 One of the principal problems with The Devils was that the controversy surrounding the film preceded its release; this gave pressure groups and the media the opportunity to persuade local councils to deny the film an exhibition license. The film was subsequently banned outright in Glasgow, Blackpool, Tunbridge Wells, Cambridge, Sevenoaks, Plymouth and Nottingham, while other councils struggled to satisfy those who wanted to see the film and those who called for it to be destroyed. The Devils was a film which divided audiences and critics, and although the BBFC mounted a public defence of the film, not all at the Board were happy with Russell’s extreme denouncement of religion. One of the BBFC examiners labelled it “a nauseating piece of filmmaking” while another considered that the film, “is out to shock for the sake of being shocking…of being outrageous for the sheer box office hell of it all.”17 One of the female examiners declared herself “perturbed” and wrote: We would all be very grateful if the picture could be left to the local authorities since we cannot see much possibility of it being toned down sufficiently for us all to feel happy about it, or for the Board’s general standards in regard to sex and brutality not to be at risk in consequence of passing the film.18

Tellingly the examiners felt the film could best be judged by local audiences and hoped that operating in this way would remove the pressure 15

Stephen Murphy to a viewer, letter dated 17 April 1972, BBFC file for The Devils. 16 BBFC file for The Devils. 17 Ibid. 18 Ibid.

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from the Board to make a decision which could not hope to please everyone. Robertson has undertaken detailed work on the specific problems associated with this film, yet for my purposes, I want to consider how the Board’s attitude towards the film was mirrored in their approach to other extreme texts.19 Can the BBFC’s expressed desire for local councils to take a hand in the censorship process be found in the files pertaining to other contentious films? Much of the material for A Clockwork Orange, Last Tango in Paris and Straw Dogs is missing from the BBFC archive files so we have little record of the Board’s views and responses to the public backlash. Yet we do know that such material exists. In the National Archives, A Clockwork Orange is one of a number of contentious 1970s films to have its own file, full of letters, reports and memos.20 One of the most important documents in this file is a copy of a letter sent by Stephen Murphy to Leeds County Council in March 1973.21 This letter was forwarded to MP, Donald Karberry, by Duncan Goodwin, one of the Leeds councillors. Goodwin raged to Karberry about Murphy’s letter declaring: The committee are against the showing of the film in Leeds. Three socialists are the only members who voted for the showing of the film. By what quirk of fate is it that the Secretary of the BBFC turns out to be himself anti-censorship? In my view this should be a job entrusted not to a trendy academic but to a man qualified by achievement to be wholly impartial. 22

Murphy wrote unsolicited to Leeds Council having been made aware that they intended to screen the film before awarding it a license. Within the letter he puts forward his own views, not just about A Clockwork Orange but on the nature of censorship itself and condemns the campaigns mounted by “extreme puritan groups” to restrict the showing of such films. The letter reads: 19

James Robertson, The Hidden Cinema: British Film Censorship in Action 1913 1975. (London: Routledge, 1993 2nd Edition) 20 TNA file, HO 300/130. 21 TNA file, HO 300/130, letter from Stephen Murphy to the Town Clerk’s Office, Leeds dated 5 March 1973. 22 TNA file, HO 300/130, letter from Duncan Goodwin, Leeds Local Authority member to Sir Donald Karberry, MP dated 12 March 1973.

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It is a brilliant and disturbing film concerned, as your committee will see, with an almost theological argument about free will… The film is thus an intellectual argument though the story itself is sometimes savage, sometime funny. It has been argued that not everyone will see it in these terms. This is true, but it has never been held to be a justification for censorship. If it were, then Hamlet would be the first victim.23

Murphy’s interpretation of the film was firmly rejected by Goodwin who scrawling on the document when Murphy suggests that the film offers a theological argument, “powerful stuff for a 16 year old mugger!”24 Goodwin is far more focused upon the violence contained with the film and the impact this may have on audiences. Murphy does address this issue of violence and the media observing: The other problem that has been raised is that of the so-called ‘Clockwork Orange’ gangs or muggings. It is very difficult to know how to argue convincingly that this is a function of press reporting and nothing more. As something of a student of both the history and the sociology of the mass media this is the sort of accusation that has been made dozens of times in the past about plays, films, radio and television programmes and never has the accusation in the end been justified.25

Drawing on his background in television, Murphy is well placed to make these kind of observations, yet the recipient of the letter is clearly unconvinced, annotating the letter with exclamation marks and writing “Propaganda!” on later pages. The letter from Murphy is frank, thoughtful and direct, yet could also be construed as brusque, bullish and pompous. Duncan Goodwin, and perhaps the rest of Leeds Council, clearly resented Murphy’s interjection into their personal decision-making process. An anonymous Government memo contained within the archive file and dated 19 March 1973 records a private response from the author to Murphy’s letter which bemoans his lack of tact and labels his actions “very injudicious.”26 The memo states how the Board’s decisions are not normally made public and that to do so often leaves “untold hostages to fortune” while at the same time admitting that 23 TNA file, HO 300/130, letter from Stephen Murphy to the Town Clerk’s Office, Leeds dated 5 March 1973. 24 Ibid. 25 Ibid. 26 TNA file, HO 300/130, internal memo dated 19 March 1973.

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“there seem to be some decisions where a judicious statement by the Board might well put a different complexion on public discussions and controversy.”27 Despite acknowledging the awkwardness of the BBFC’s current position the memo observes, “the mischief on this occasion lies less in the fact that Murphy wrote at all, than in the nature of what he wrote.”28 The report disputes Murphy’s reading of the film and labels his attack on the opponents of the film “gratuitous” while also suggesting that his remarks undermine the position and function of the BBFC. The author observes, “it is only a step from Mr Murphy’s comment to saying that blue films should be publicly shown because they give an opportunity for a public debate on the question of censorship.”29 While this is an absurd exaggeration, the anxiety of the Government official is evident here. It was clearly felt within Government circles that Murphy and the BBFC were calling too much attention to themselves and that the debates that Murphy wanted to see about the nature and form of film censorship were totally out of pace with what the Government wanted. The BBFC was intended to be independent of both the Government and the film industry, yet, as the archive material indicates, the Government were acutely aware of the precarious state of the Board and took steps to intervene. Donald Karberry forwarded the offending letter, along with the letter from Duncan Goodwin to the home secretary Robert Carr. Carr subsequently wrote to Lord Harlech, President of the BBFC and Murphy’s boss, noting: I feel bound to say that Murphy’s letter went a great deal beyond the defensive exposition and sought in terms to bring the Board’s influence to bear to sway the decision of the licensing authority … I think the Board lays itself open to justifiable criticism if it is seen to interfere with what, in the end, should be a local decision.30

Carr then invited both Murphy and Harlech to: An informal talk about the problem of censorship in general and how some of the present problems might be eased, either by a closer understanding 27

Ibid. Ibid. 29 Ibid. 30 TNA file, HO 300/130, letter from Robert Carr to Lord Harlech undated. 28

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between the Board and the cinema licensing authorities, or by a clearer public conception of how the Board interprets its responsibilities.31

The overriding purpose and function of the BBFC was that it was independent of Government, yet here was the home secretary summoning the Secretary and President of the BBFC to discuss how the Board should “interpret its responsibilities.” Such involvement in the way the Board operated undermined the position of the BBFC and suggests a far larger censorship crisis than simply a handful of local authorities in conflict with the Board. Due to the absence of material in the BBFC files, we can only speculate how Stephen Murphy and Lord Harlech responded to this governmental summons. The National Archive file does, however, contain a report of the visit. The meeting which took place on 18 May 1973 was between Murphy, Lord Harlech, and government representatives Mr Witney and Mr Graham-Harrison. Following the meeting GrahamHarrison recorded that: Mr Murphy displayed a somewhat ambivalent attitude towards the pressures that the Festival of Light and other organisations were bringing to bear on local authorities. At the same time he evidently considered that the Board’s credibility and authority was affected when an authority refused to allow the showing of a film which the Board had passed, and he could not altogether conceal his resentment at this.32

The BBFC and the Government responded to the activities of pressure groups in very different ways. The Government listened to the objections of these groups, hosting meetings with them and giving them a forum in which to address their grievances.33 The BBFC, led by Murphy, took very little notice and engaged with them as little as possible. As the report goes on to state: It is this attitude that accounts for the letter which Mr Murphy sent to the Leeds Authority about the showing of A Clockwork Orange. Nevertheless he now admits that it was an error of judgement to have descended into the

31

Ibid. TNA file, HO 300/130, internal memo dated 21 May 1973. 33 This is borne out by the meetings held by Government representatives with The Viewers and Listeners Association and The Festival of Light. Records of these meetings contained in documents TNA HO 300/166. 32

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Here, Murphy admitted to an “error of judgement” for allowing his own views and the views of the BBFC to inform discussions about a particular film. But this again raises huge issues about the independence of the Board. The Government is clearly intervening to ensure that a similar situation with does not occur again. Perhaps the most telling part of the report is in the final paragraph which observes: We formed the impression that Mr Murphy was somewhat oppressed by the responsibilities and isolation of his position. The term BBFC is a misnomer – the Board in fact consists only of Lord Harlech, Mr Murphy and a number of scrutineers.35

The Government opinion of Murphy is plain and made plainer by the earlier memo written in response to the original letter to Leeds in which the government official (either Witney or Graham-Harrison) writes: Mr Murphy’s letter lends weight to a criticism recently expressed to me by the Secretary of the Cinematographers Exhibitors Association to the effect that the trade were unhappy about the extent to which Mr Murphy was prepared to make public comments about the Board’s activities. Mr Camplin was disposed to think that the President himself [Lord Harlech] was not free from criticism on the grounds that he is too closely associated in the public mind with the avant-garde.36

Taken together, these two government documents detail an astonishing personal attack on both Murphy and Lord Harlech on the grounds of their liberalism. Murphy was seen to be overwhelmed by his position and unable to write to local counsellors without patronising them, while Lord Harlech was too closely associated with avant-garde intelligentsia to uphold judgements made by his Board. Herein lies the censorship crisis; not in 1971 and 1972 as Phelps suggested but rather in 1973 when the Heath Government began to involve itself in film censorship, actively questioning the decisions made by the Board and querying the appointment of those in power. Following this intervention by the Government it is possible to detect a shift in Murphy’s 34

TNA file, HO 300/130, internal memo dated 21 May 1973. Ibid. 36 TNA file, HO 300/130, internal memo dated 19 March 1973. 35

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relationship with local authorities; in the years which followed he was much more circumspect in his dealings with individual councils and only offered advice when formally requested to do so. It is difficult to speculate how a different response could have resolved the problems raised by A Clockwork Orange, Straw Dogs or The Devils. The involvement of pressure groups and the constant scrutiny of the tabloid press called attention to the idiosyncratic and often unworkable system of film censorship, while offering little in the way of resolution. Although his tenure at the Board was not long, Murphy did not resign in 1973, even when publicly called upon to do so. He remained in post until 1975 and in the years following the censorship crisis helped the BBFC move beyond spats with local councils to implement an approach which undoubtedly helped the Board move forward during a troublesome decade.

CHAPTER SIX WEATHERING THE STORM

Stephen Murphy’s first few years at the BBFC had been far from straightforward. High profile, contentious films which polarised popular opinion had forced him to make public declarations about the Board’s decisions at a time when he was perhaps ill-equipped to speak for the organisation. In addition to dealing with a range of controversial texts, Murphy was also faced with the problem of working with film directors and producers who viewed him as an interloper from the world of television. Although Murphy’s relationships with local councils continued to improve, the years 1973 and 1974 saw the eruption of some public disputes with prominent members of the film industry. As well as the public squabble with Michael Winner over Scorpio (1973), the BBFC files also reveal that Murphy clashed with another powerful player within the film industry, producer Michael Klinger. The reason for Murphy’s conflicts with prominent members of the film industry was partly due to his refusal to compromise on issues of violence, even in high profile films. Back in 1972, he had refused to certificate The Godfather (1972) until some of the violence had been trimmed. He was insistent upon the removal of the “kicks administered to Sonny when he lies dead on the ground” arguing: It is in line with the Board’s consistent policy that while we accept that violence is an essential part of a film like The Godfather, we would like to stop at the point at which we become vulnerable to the accusation that it is over-prolonged for any dramatic purpose it may serve.1

1 Stephen Murphy to Paramount, letter dated 10 July 1972, BBFC file for The Godfather

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Murphy’s message to the film industry was clear; he was not about to compromise on material which he felt was inappropriate or unsuitable. The issue of imitable violence was a key one for Murphy, as was the impact of violent images and behaviour upon young audiences. It was this issue which fuelled the long running debate about Peter Hunt’s Gold (1974) produced by Michael Klinger. Although enjoying the film and commending its production, Murphy refused to comply with the company’s request for the A certificate, objecting to the overall “feel” of the picture. He noted: The suggested relationships are a good deal more adult and complex than in the simple sort of story film which usually gets an A…it’s a more adult piece than say the Bonds. Gold is good enough to have some smell of reality about it.2

Murphy felt that it was this “reality” which would have a significant impact upon children. He suggested that the material would be more than young children were “emotionally equipped to handle.”3 He cited a key scene where an injured man has his leg amputated (although this takes place off screen) and firmly refuted the idea that comparable images could be seen on television. Drawing on his experience within television, he stated: It is simply not true to say that this sort of material is shown on television every night. Both BBC and ITN are very careful to exclude this sort of material from early evening news bulletins i.e. the time band covered by our A certificate.4

Murphy also raised issues of language and the cumulative effect of a number of bedroom scenes within the film. Klinger’s response was to challenge Murphy’s views on what children found frightening or disturbing and to agree to Murphy’s suggestion of some commissioned audience research, specifically aimed at children. It is hard to establish from the file whether the proposed research was actually carried out, but this was a typical Murphy response to a difference of opinion.

2

Stephen Murphy to Michael Klinger, letter dated 8 April 1974, BBFC file for Gold 3 Ibid. 4 Ibid.

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Following further BBFC pressure Klinger and Hunt worked to reduce the amount of contentious material within the film, particularly cutting down the language, removing a few of the “Jesus Christs” and replacing the term “bastard” with “blasted” or “blighter.”5 The violence and explicit bloodiness was also reduced and with these concessions, Murphy and the BBFC were prepared to allow the film to be classified A and therefore suitable for children under the age of 14. .

Concerns for children and for the vulnerable had been the cornerstone of BBFC policy for many years and Murphy was firmly committed to ensuring that there was parity between what was broadcast on the television and what was screened in cinemas. However, awareness of the ways sex and violence were being combined on screen and how such combinations could be degrading to and exploitative of women was an emerging BBFC concern. Murphy believed that restricting depictions of violence against women should be censorship policy within both television and film. This straightforward concern is complicated by Murphy’s contradictory approach to low-budget sex comedy, bawdy vulgarity and increasingly graphic horror - much of which used sex and violence to titillate and exploit. Murphy’s concerns about the exploitation of women can be found in a range of files but are often absent from the files of sexcomedy or low budget horror films; he appeared not to take seriously representations within films of this kind. Murphy objected to comical films which approached adult material in a way which he considered overtly vulgar. He objected to the Frankie Howerd vehicle, Up the Chastity Belt (1971) and considered it to be far stronger than the “earthy tradition of straightforward vulgarity” which characterised On the Buses (1971) or Carry on Henry (1971).6 This may appear contradictory when compared to Murphy’s more relaxed approach to similarly vulgar (and much more explicit) texts such as Confessions of a Window Cleaner.7 The difference here is audience; Murphy was happy for the Confessions films to be sexually explicit as they were designed for the X category and over 18s, whereas Up the Chastity Belt was intended for 5

BBFC file for Gold. Stephen Murphy to Anglo-EMI, letter dated 5 October 1971, BBFC file for Up the Chastity Belt 7 The way in which the BBFC dealt with low budget sex comedies has been addressed extensively in Sian Barber, ‘Blue is the pervading shade: Re-examining British Film Censorship in the 1970s’ Journal of British Cinema and Television 6:3 (2009) 349 - 369. 6

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the A category. What was suitable for one category was definitely not suitable for another, although it seems difficult to reconcile the straightforward A given to On the Buses with the more lengthy and protracted classification process to certificate Up the Chastity Belt.8 However, upon closer examination, this can perhaps be easily explained; On the Buses was passed by Trevelyan in his final days at the Board, whereas Up The Chastity Belt was one of the first submissions Murphy had to deal with. Films from low budget genres were treated differently to “quality” films which pushed the boundaries of sexual permission. For example, the BBFC examiners admitted that the graphic sex scene in Nic Roeg’s Don’t Look Now (1973) was “well in advance of anything that the Board has yet passed” but the quality and originality of the film was praised and it was allowed to be passed X without cuts.9 Recognition of quality film material and the extra license often granted to such films was nothing new at the BBFC, but it is important to note that Murphy was just as firmly committed to this policy as Trevelyan had been. The issue of quality was central to BBFC policy in the 1970s and became particularly problematic when the Board were called upon to certificate films from low-budget which possessed little perceived cultural value. The 1970s saw a massive increase in British-made horror films and along with Hammer studios, low budget operations Tigon and Amicus were also making films to please fans of this genre and were constantly pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable. Unlike Trevelyan who viewed such material as poor quality, titillating and exploitative, Murphy simply saw these films as rather ridiculous entertainment. In the Amicus produced, The Beast Must Die (1974), the BBFC examiners considered the company’s desire for an X to be laughable. They felt, “this really isn’t an X… it’s a good scary story for 14 year olds… obviously they want the X to make it appear a stronger horror than it is, but do we risk credibility?”10 After further material had been inserted into the film to make it more shocking Murphy agreed to the X certificate, commenting to his examiners that the additional content did, “justify our awarding of the X certificate, without troubling our consciences or looking publicly inconsistent.”11

8

BBFC file for On the Buses details the easy classification of this film. BBFC file for Don’t Look Now 10 BBFC file for The Beast Must Die 11 Ibid. 9

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Failing to take seriously films such as Pete Walker’s 1974 shockhorror Frightmare effectively relegated this low-budget, low-brow product to the harmless margins. This again is understandable, particularly when considering the BBFC’s frequent judgements based on “quality” and cultural value, yet is problematic when the similarities between extreme horror and a more serious film like Scorpio are identified. The problematic scene within Scorpio which Murphy objected to so strenuously could perhaps be compared with the scene in Frightmare where a murderous mother and daughter attack a hapless male victim with a set of power tools. Ridiculous though this second film may be it is interesting to note that the horror genre protects the material from being cut. The file for Frightmare records a series of tiny BBFC-requested cuts, including the demand that Walker removed the scene with “blood gushing in mouth” and the rather laconic request for “A’s killing reduced to 2 blows.”12 This seeming inconsistency of the Board’s approach to similar material can once again be explained by category and audience. Winner saw Scoprio as a film which could be seen by teenagers and children, whereas Frightmare was only ever going to be awarded the X category. Unlike the historical trappings which had for so long protected the horror film from appearing to represent reality, all of Walker’s films from the 1970s are set in the present. This makes it more surprising that the poisoned communion wafers in House of Mortal Sin (1975) the attempted murder in a sauna in Die Screaming Marianne (1971) and the sadistic floggings and whipping which take place in the private prison in The House of Whipcord (1974) were not taken more seriously, especially as women were almost entirely presented as the victims within these films. All these films contained easily imitable violence, yet none of these episodes were queried due to the genre to which they belonged and the audience for which they were intended. All of these films were classified X, but apart from a few small trims none of them were heavily cut. Die Screaming Marianne was even resubmitted to the board in 1971, a year after is classification as an X as producer John Hogarth wondered if they could get an AA for it instead.13 The request was denied, but indicates the rapidly changing social climate and the way in which these types of films were becoming absorbed into mainstream film culture.

12 13

BBFC file for Frightmare BBFC file for Die Screaming Marianne.

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As someone who had worked for many years in television, Murphy knew the power and importance of popular genres for audiences. Although he had found the violence in Vampire Circus laughable in 1971, it is possible to discern a shift in his attitudes towards horror in the period following the so-called censorship crisis. When reviewing The Satanic Rites of Dracula in 1973, the BBFC requested a substantial list of cuts, notably asking for a particular reduction in a scene depicting the stabbing of a blood-stained naked girl as part of a witchcraft ceremony. Even Murphy acknowledged in an internal memo that this was a rather abrupt about-face for the Board noting: It does appear to me that we have been a little harsh with a film in this genre. I accept that I was present at the second viewing and can only assume that seeing only excerpts I took a biased view of the film… despite the re-edit of reels 1 and 2 we still have a problem with the blood on the girl’s breasts as we do with Jane’s breast in reel 5.14

In the end a compromise was reached and the scene in question was trimmed by the studio so that “no blood is seen on the breast” of the unfortunate victim.15 Such carefully considered responses from the BBFC to scenes of this kind, within this type of horror film are interesting. While society as a whole was becoming more accepting of the content permitted at X certificate level, there was an increased awareness at the BBFC of how women were being presented on film, as well as the ever-present concerns about the dangerous associations of sex and violence. The video report forms from 1985 for The Satanic Rites of Dracula deal with this issue much more explicitly noting: The film carried a number of cuts, all of which appear to have been retained in the video except for one, which shows a wooden stake being driven in just below the naked breast of a chained vampire, plus blood spurts. This needs to go, being too specific an image of violence done to women. 16

This “violence done to women” was enough to ensure the Hammer film an 18 rating rather than the 15 more usually accorded to vintage horror in the 1980s.17 Sexual violence was not the only problem for the 14

BBFC file for Satanic Rites of Dracula Ibid. 16 Ibid. 17 The examiners video report from the BBFC file for Dracula AD1972 debates this question of whether all old Hammer horror films fit best into the new 15 or 18 15

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horror genre in the 1970s, occasionally the material was perceived to be simply distasteful, such as the “men spitting blood” in The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires (1974) which the BBFC firmly requested the company reduce.18 In 1970, the BBFC had requested the reduction of an attempted rape in Groupie Girl (1970) and although the company eventually shortened the sequence, they claimed that the scene in question was a “struggle” not an attempted rape.19 In the same year one of the examiners commented on the film Lock Up Your Daughters (1970) calling it “a bestselling farce of one seduction after another, one attempted rape after another attempted rape.”20 Such expressed attitudes contrast markedly with the BBFCs response to scenes of rape later in the decade. In The House of Mortal Sin (1976) the production company was specifically instructed to remove shots of “frightened and suffering women” from the trailer.21 Clearly times were changing, but the Board’s forward-thinking approach often strained professional working relationships. Issues about the representation of women as well as explicit violence and an absence of morality affected the certification of Michael Winner’s Death Wish in 1974. Winner submitted his film in September 1974 and in a letter which accompanied the proposed advertising material for the film he strongly suggested to Stephen Murphy: As you know, the picture has had great critical and public acclaim in America where it has been granted an R certificate. I am hopeful, and I believe, realistically so, that we can have this receive a certificate in this country without any to do. 22

Unfortunately, the film was anything but straightforward for the BBFC and Murphy pointed out in an internal memo that as it stood, the rape categories for video. This question is also raised in relation to non-Hammer films such as And Now The Screaming Starts. 18 BBFC film file for Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires 19 BBFC file for Groupie Girl 20 BBFC file for Lock Up your Daughters. Another analogous case would be My Lover, My Son (1970) where scenes of domestic violence were trimmed in 1970 and explicitly cited as unacceptable in 1984. 21 National Screen Service to BBFC, letter dated 27 January 1976 confirmed cuts had been made, BBFC file for House of Mortal Sin 22 Michael Winner to Stephen Murphy, letter dated 27 August 1974, BBFC file for Death Wish.

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scene and the language made it “unacceptable” for certification. In a letter to the production company, Murphy elaborated, noting: We accept that without a strong rape scene at the beginning, the whole motivation of the film is weakened, nevertheless, I think that as it stands, the rape sequence is likely to be very offensive to some British audiences, not only on account of its visual content, but on account of the language used.23

Unhappy with this response, Winner accused the BBFC of “savaging” the film and Murphy of instigating a much tougher stance on film censorship than had hitherto existed in Britain. Whilst Winner’s irritation as a filmmaker is easy to understand the files demonstrate that Murphy – as he had done with Scorpio - took pains to explain what the BBFC’s particular objections were to Death Wish. He informed the irate director that in his experience the British public was extremely sensitive to the topic of rape and that in its visuals and language the scene went far beyond anything which the BBFC had allowed to be shown in Britain. Defending the views of the Board and referring specifically to the film’s use of the word “cunt”, Murphy pointed out “you may find it illogical that a society can accept 8 or 9 shootings and still object to a word of dialogue. But it does.”24 Winner was not amused by these pronouncements and the disagreement continued for the next few months. What is particularly interesting about this example is that the issue of contention is once again the problematic representation of rape. As already shown, Murphy was highly sensitive to this issue, and his views were far ahead of those expressed by other public figures about the way rape was represented and discussed both on television and within film. The video reports for Death Wish from 1987, further illuminate how attitudes to rape continued to develop in the decade which followed. One male video examiner referred to the rape scene as “reprehensible” whilst the female examiner noted that it was: Way beyond the current standards of sexual violence to women that we are currently using at the Board, and it may well have been the case that this film was stretching the limits on what we thought acceptable even in 1974…it seems to be a horribly manipulative and exploitative scene.25

23

Stephen Murphy to CIC, letter dated 9 September 1974. Ibid. Stephen Murphy to Michael Winner, letter dated 16 September 1974. Ibid. 25 BBFC file for Death Wish. 24

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The examiner went on to term the film “immensely degrading to women” a view which chief censor James Ferman appeared to support when he refused to grant the film a video certificate under the Video Recordings Act. Death Wish remained unclassified for video until Ferman’s retirement, after which it was passed by Robin Duval in 1999. With hindsight it is easy to appreciate Murphy’s concerns about the graphic and degrading rape scene, yet it is clear from the exchange of letters that Winner considered Murphy to be exercising his own personal judgement rather than expressing the views of the Board. This may have been the case but Murphy was a firm believer in meeting the expectations of the audience. From his television work, Murphy knew that the best way to find out what the audience wanted was to ask them. As a censor he was much happier discussing aspects of censorship with the general public than in dealing with the egos, foibles and idiosyncrasies of film industry insiders and local councils. It was also the case that Winner was not quite as in touch with audience standards as he considered himself to be; he requested and was refused an X certificate for his remake of The Big Sleep (1978) which the BBFC examiners found to be “soporific” and awarded it an AA category as it contained “nothing strong enough to warrant the adult category.” 26 When Murphy left the BBFC in 1975, he had just began to gain the support of the wider film industry, due to a careful policy of working with filmmakers to test our their possibly contentious material on their target audiences. This was a policy which he had used with Trash back in 1971 and would use again with Stardust (1974). Stardust is a particularly important example as the film appealed to teenage fans of David Essex, yet contained sex, violence, drugs and extreme language.27 The problem for the BBFC, the production team and the financiers of the project was how to balance the film’s themes and content with the need to reach the teenage audience. As the work on Stardust demonstrated, test screenings and audience feedback was a positive and proactive way forward for the BBFC, but this process of lengthy consultation could not take place for every single film. The most obviously contentious films were the ones which were best suited to audience research and response, yet often films 26

BBFC file for The Big Sleep The David Essex vehicle Stardust (1974) is an interesting case study of the BBFC collaborating within the production team and the financiers. This material has been discussed at length within Sian Barber, ‘Blue is the pervading shade: Reexamining British Film Censorship in the 1970s’, op.cit.

27

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were problematic for a range of reasons rather than simply depictions of discussions of sex, drugs or violence. As well as drawing on feedback from audiences, the BBFC was also testing out its policy against the other principal medium which was so influential in the decade, television. As someone who had worked in television for many years, Stephen Murphy was keenly aware that both television and film were media which changed rapidly and that material had to be allowed to be seen - in both formats - which kept up with the times. When television material crossed over into film, as it frequently did in the 1970s, Murphy was perhaps the best person to ensure that such material was correctly classified for its intended audience. As well as responding to a slew of TV spin offs in the early years of the 1970s, including film versions of Steptoe and Son (1972) and Love Thy Neighbour (1973), Murphy had to also contend with material which had a dedicated television following.28 Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) was the first full length feature film from the anarchic Python team and the fact it had its roots in their popular and particular branch of television comedy made the film complicated for the BBFC. Murphy understood that audiences for television and film were different and that the viewing spaces for each medium made a fundamental difference to the way in which the material was received. However the Python team did not and a letter from producer Mark Forstater reveals their uncertainty about their material within the cinema: We seem to be fairly clear now about what we would have to do to get an AA rating for Monty Python and the Holy Grail. We have spoken with a few distributors, who have suggested that an A rating would probably make quite a difference to the box office returns. Can you give me some idea of the further changes that you would require for an A rating?29

This indicates it was not just the difficulty of translating television comedy to film comedy, but that the production team had no real idea of how to make sure that they reached their target audience in the cinema. The BBFC was on hand to offer advice, but the main issue for the Board was the language. The production team eventually decided to aim for the A rather than the AA certificate in order to reach the widest audience 28

BBFC files for Steptoe and Son and Love Thy Neighbour. Mark Forstater to BBFC, letter dated 3 April, 1974, BBFC file for Monty Python and the Holy Grail

29

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possible, and so were willing to lose some of the language including the frequent uses of “shit” and “Jesus Christ.” Even with these cuts, a number of issues of language remained over which Murphy remained firm. In a letter to the Board, the film’s executive producer John Goldstone points out the similarity between the material which the Board felt was contentious and material which can be seen on television. He wrote to Murphy: We appreciate your concern to protect the innocent; I do think it is important for this film to be judged within the context of the Monty Python myth. Python has become a national institution and has developed a brand of humour which is subversive, sadistic and irreverent and is what the public expect from their various forms of expression on TV, film, records and books. I would also point out that in fact the transmission time of the series have varied from 8.30pm to 10.30pm which I would have thought makes it available to 11 year olds upwards and discussing with the Pythons the contents of their sketches they tell me they have done things far bloodier and more violent on television than anything in this film.30

Finally in March 1975, following further trims to a few shots of “gushing blood” and the substitution of two of the “Jesus Christs” with alternative exclamations, the film was given the A certificate, allowing it to be seen by a wide range of Python fans. The arguments put forward about the timings of the television programmes and the use of language on television played a crucial part in convincing Murphy that the film should be seen and enjoyed by members of an age group who were fans of the television comedy. As well as being newcomers to the world of filmmaking the Pythons were also strangers to the world of film censorship and the give and take required in order to get a film classified by the BBFC. Following this lengthy and involved process, the company wrote to the BBFC observing, “I am glad that we have been able to come to a satisfactory conclusion and thank you for your continual help through the making of this film.”31 Once again it is possible to see how Murphy’s collaborative ways of working which foregrounded the importance of the audience and how they viewed contentious material were starting to impact positively upon BBFC policy. However, in 1975, Murphy announced his resignation from the Board after only four years in office. Upon hearing the news, the Secretary 30

John Goldstone to Stephen Murphy, letter dated 19 February 1975. Ibid. John Goldstone to Stephen Murphy, letter dated 4 March 1975. Ibid.

31

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of the Cinematograph Exhibiters Association commented, “It is a matter of great sadness that he has decided he does not want to do it any longer. He had a very sticky passage with the trade and the media in the first year or so.”32 Similarly, the President of the Kinematograph Renters Society observed, “in these permissive days censorship is not the black and white subject it used to be, Stephen Murphy has been very sensible and intelligent, modern in outlook, understanding and tolerant.”33 The film industry was finally rallying to the aid of the beleaguered censor but not soon enough to convince Murphy to remain in post. Murphy’s chief failing was his inability to make the Board’s (and indeed his own) decisions acceptable to the wider public. He consistently underestimated the power of pressure groups and local authorities and refused to involve them in the censorship process. His desire to address the wider issues of censorship and engage in a public debate about what he saw as the real issues were frustrated by the prevailing social and culture climate and the need for the BBFC to mediate between the liberal left and the reactionary right. Following his departure from the BBFC, Murphy returned to his work in television and remained at the ITA for many years, with his signature appearing on documents as late as 1984. Although his tenure at the BBFC was brief, Murphy had succeeded in moving the BBFC forward from the grace and favour years of John Trevelyan. He prepared the ground for increased collaboration with the film industry and indicated how the Board could work effectively with audiences to test the limits of classification. But even with the fraught and contentious early years of the decade behind them, the later 1970s saw the BBFC face a host of new challenges, not least renewed Government scrutiny, new legal complications and the appointment of a new Secretary, James Ferman.

32

Neville Hodgkinson ‘Film censor retiring to ‘let in a fresh mind’ The Times, 4 January 1975 33 Ibid.

PART III: THE FERMAN YEARS (1975-1980)

CHAPTER SEVEN POLICY SHIFTS

In 1975 the American-born and Cambridge-educated, James Ferman became the new Secretary of the BBFC. A former television director, whose work in the 1960s had predominantly addressed “social concerns”, Ferman’s appointment was to prove a good choice. A firm film enthusiast, Ferman was also a pragmatist and believed that part of his role was to rehabilitate the BBFC and win back the support of local authorities and the press. In his early days at the Board Ferman called publicly for a demystification of the censorship practices of the BBFC, but as the archive files reveal, in many ways Ferman continued to work in exactly the same way as his predecessors. For example, the script for The Likely Lads (1976) was submitted for his review and suggestions in November 1975 and Ferman was keen to offer his comments to producer Aida Young, in the same way as Murphy had advised Young on scripts for films such as Steptoe and Son (1973). For The Likely Lads, Ferman noted cautiously, “it certainly seems OK for AA category. Indeed with a couple of dialogue cuts and discretion in shooting the sexy episodes it could well be an A.”1 Although typical of BBFC policy, Ferman’s approach was to offer the company a choice of category, usually one category without any cuts at all and a lower category which would require cuts. This process was not simply applied to films in the higher categories but to all films. At The Earth’s Core (1976) was an adventure film intended for the whole family, yet the BBFC identified some moments which made it unsuitable for the U, specifically the scenes in which the creatures eat their victims and certain episodes when characters “spit blood.”2 After further discussions with the Board the production company eventually decide to retain these 1

James Ferman to Aida Young, letter dated 6 November 1975, BBFC file for The Likely Lads 2 BBFC file for At The Earth’s Core

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sequences and accept an uncut A category rather then remove material for the U. At a film industry seminar in 1979, Ferman clarified how his approach to category classification worked in practice, stating: We try, as far as possible, to let classification look after the problem of taste nowadays, and when a film is marginal between two categories, we feel it right normally to give the company the choice of the category they prefer.3

Such an approach proved popular with filmmakers who could make the decision to cut or not cut based upon the certificate they desired and they audience they were keen to attract. It also appeared to remove the thorny issues of ‘taste’ from the BBFC’s remit. Ferman’s comments on The Likely Lads were gratefully received and Young replied to Ferman informing him of the company’s desire for an A certificate. The fact that the BBFC and the company were working together to get the film the desired certificate was nothing new, yet Ferman’s advice at the script stage clarified what could not be included for specific categories before the film was even made, allowing the filmmakers to proceed fully aware of the content, language and visuals to be avoided. Such an approach also moved the BBFC one step closer to a formalised policy although suggests that Ferman was using his own firm guidelines to determine what could and what could not be included within each category. As the file later reveals, The Likely Lads did run into trouble once it was completed and a number of lines were recommended for removal, with the BBFC examiners considering language like “bugger”, “shit” and “bollocks” unsuitable for the A category.4 Young eventually agreed to a few of the cuts suggested but following the intervention of Ferman, most of the contested language remained in the final A certificated film. Language in A and AA category films emerged as highly contentious issue during Ferman’s tenure. Introduced in 1970, the new category system determined that the A category was advisory, with parents able to accompany their children to screenings, while AA was restricted to those 14 and over, while the X was for over 18s. The difficulty faced by the BBFC was that if they restricted films which were otherwise 3

Transcript of talk given by James Ferman, ‘Censorship Today’ at an industry seminar sponsored by the Association of Independent Cinemas (AIC), 1979, 2. 4 BBFC file for The Likely Lads

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unexceptionable but with occasional strong language, to those over the age of 14, they were denying many films the most appropriate certificate. The examiner’s report for The Man Who Would Be King (1975), addresses this issue, noting: We have given the film an A category although some of the barrack room language is rather strong… there is a line of dialogue which includes the lines “now the women will cut his bollocks off.” We felt, however that this was a film that all age groups will enjoy and it would be wrong to restrict it to the over 14s.5

In this instance it was felt that the film was most appropriate to the A category, yet the file reveals that the script had already been trimmed of a great many of its expletives, particularly the recurring use of “bugger”, to make it acceptable within this category.6 As well as language, the general suitability of material within the A category was being hotly debated. One film whose content was deemed to be completely unsuitable for the A category was Shout at the Devil (1976) which was seen by Ferman and one of the BBFC examiners in rough cut in February 1976. Despite the company’s desire for the A certificate, the film file records the BBFC response to the film which noted: The film is unsympathetic almost from the beginning when the “heroes” gun down about half a dozen elephants for their ivory (though we are assured in a final caption that no animals were injured) Native soldiers and villagers are expended cheaply throughout the film and this casual killing itself makes an A dubious.7

One of the specifically cited episodes which the BBFC found particularly offensive was a scene in which a baby is killed by savages. After viewing this scene, the BBFC examiner noted drily, “hurling babies into flames before the eyes of their screaming mothers is just not A material.”8 Outlining similar objections to those that Murphy had identified within Gold, Ferman wrote to producer Michael Klinger to explain the Board’s concerns over the film and informed him:

5

BBFC file for The Man Who Would Be King. Ibid. 7 BBFC file for Shout at the Devil. 8 Ibid. 6

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Chapter Seven The film presents some problems for the A certificate, particularly since we know that children are especially disturbed by human (as opposed to animal e.g. Jaws) savagery, and this film includes a very great quantity of interpersonal brutality. It seems to me that because of the investment and the stars, you may be aiming for an audience which is not strictly appropriate to the storyline and I realise that this could be a problem. Certainly the appallingly sadistic murder of a baby before its mother’s eyes would be an image of considerable terror for young children. 9

Ferman also informed Klinger that the film’s theme of violent revenge was not something which the Board would normally sanction outside the X classification, again echoing the position adopted by Murphy in relation to Death Wish in 1974. Unhappy with this response, Klinger nevertheless accepted that the film would need to be cut in order for it to receive the A certificate and the file records that after a further few weeks of wrangling the film was finally deemed suitable for the lower classification. The issue of what was permissible within A and AA category films is just as important as what was deemed suitable for the X category within the debate about censorship. Understanding the category distinctions applied by the Board highlights the way in which they were making decisions, and crucially what informed these decisions. When Ken Russell’s Tommy (1975) was submitted, the Board considered all aspects of the film before agreeing on a certificate. One examiner wrote about the film: We felt this film had a lot to offer the 14-18 year old audience who would be sufficiently attracted to the music. We felt that the violence used a sufficiently fantasised world to rid it of the terror for this age group and that with the context of the film did not merit the film excluding under 18s.10

With Tommy it was not the case that the film posed problems of language, but rather that it included a range of problematic content and visuals including the Acid Queen sequence, the sadistic bullying of Tommy by Uncle Ernie, Ann-Margret writhing in beans and chocolate and the possible blasphemy of the scene in the church replete with false idols.11 Initially the BBFC suggested an A category for the film with substantial cuts, but eventually it was passed AA uncut, thereby making the film 9

James Ferman to Michael Klinger, letter dated 19 February 1976. Ibid. BBFC file for Tommy. 11 Ibid. 10

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available to those over the age of 14 in all its chaotic glory. The BBFC was happy with its decision not to cut this film (as was Russell) and Tommy retained its teenager-appropriate category when it came to be classified for its video release, largely down to the enthusiastic and thoughtful response of the examiner, who wrote in 1985: I last saw the film on TV in the company of a 17 year old, whose eyes bulged with incredulity and whose comments were of enthusiastic amazement that such a concatenation of images could be created. It would be a shame to deny this film to the adolescents.12

Another film which was seen to have appeal for younger audiences despite its adult themes was Horace Ove’s Pressure (1976). The BBFC examiners recognised the importance of the film for teenagers, and one considered, “the film seems to discuss with some sympathy and attempt at balance, the simple black politics of despair” while the other felt it was made with “considerable sincerity.”13 Once again the intentions of the filmmaker allowed the film to be certificated AA despite its inclusion of extreme language. Although Pressure was a crucially important film within the canon of black British cinema, the BBFC avoided considering the implications of such a film and simply felt that “it raises the sorts of questions black teenagers must be discussing and hence should be available for a teenage audience.”14 For the BBFC, the focus was clearly upon the intentions of the director and the importance of the film for audiences, rather than any wider political or cultural ramifications. The BBFC file for Pressure does reveal the Board’s anxieties about language and the appeal of such material for audiences, but the final classification of the film also indicates their dogged commitment to certificating a film which they felt had something to say. Determining what language and content were suitable for the teenage audience became more and more problematic as the decade progressed. Joseph Losey’s The Romantic Englishwoman (1975) was rated AA by the Board in April 1975, yet attracted angry complaints; one viewer labelled the film “filth” and complained that its content was not suitable for anything other than the X category.15 In a measured and conciliatory letter, 12

Ibid. BBFC file for Pressure 14 Ibid. 15 James Ferman to a viewer, letter dated 12 November 1975, BBFC file for The Romantic Englishwoman 13

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Ferman defends the Board’s judgement and firmly states, “we do not feel that this film in any way represented filth, although it was a very sophisticated treatment of infidelity, both emotional and physical in a contemporary setting.”16 In later years, the Board would restrict such films to higher catgeories because they offered nothing to younger audiences, yet in the mid-1970s Ferman raised a different defence. He did not resort to the age-old BBFC arguments of notions of quality filmmaking but instead drew attention to the way in which the material handles the issues involved. However, less than a month later when called upon to defend the graphic content of Ken Russell’s controversial Lisztomania (1975) Ferman argued that although the film was “rude and crude in every sense”, it did not go beyond what was permissible.17 In response to a further letter of complaint about the film from a member of the public, the BBFC Secretary firmly outlined his position: My own view of the film as aesthetic goods have no place in the censorship discussion, since we at the Board have no right to impose our own personal tastes on the nation at large. Suffice to say that Liszt will continue to give pleasure and sustenance to generations of music lovers long after Mr Russell’s efforts have been forgotten.18

Ferman’s views expressed here differ significantly from the arguments about quality and artistic integrity marshalled by Trevelyan and Murphy in defence of The Devils (1971) and A Clockwork Orange (1971). In Ferman’s view, the fact that the film stayed within the bounds of what was acceptable was enough to ensure its certification. Here Ferman is alluding to a substantial shift in policy which moves the BBFC away from the defence of “artistic quality” which they had applied for so long. But is this as straightforward as it first appears, or is Ferman simply telling the public what they want to hear, while simultaneously quietly continuing with established BBFC policy? A quick glance at the BBFC files reveals that, like Trevelyan and Murphy before him, Ferman was keen to appreciate artistry, quality and integrity within filmmaking and was not above using these arguments for classification decisions. His championing of the work of Derek Jarman is 16

Ibid. BBFC file for Lisztomania 18 James Ferman to a viewer, letter dated 10 December 1975, Ibid. 17

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particularly interesting and the files record that he was the only member of the Board to advocate the passing of the explosive and challenging Jubilee without cuts in 1977 with a file note recording, “there was a good deal of argument about cuts, with JF for passing uncut, [two examiners] for cuts, [one examiner] unhappy about the carving of love and [one examiner] with reservations about that and the polythene sheet episode.”19 This file note reveals the differing objections of the BBFC examining team to aspects of the film but more surprisingly documents Ferman’s wish for the film to be passed uncut. This preference would fit well with Ferman’s previously expressed desire “to treat works of art and entertainment with respect” and his enthusiasm for Jarman’s earlier work, yet sits uneasily with his declarations of objectivity.20 Jubilee is without doubt a provocative film full of moments of anarchic violence, including the suffocation of a young man by his girlfriend with a plastic sheet, the manufacture and use of Molotov cocktails, the murder of a policeman and the carving of words by the protagonists into each other’s skin with knives and glass. The film is a perfect example where the expressed desire of the BBFC not to cut films of artistic and visual quality conflicts with broader standards of permission, issues of imitable violence and notions of acceptability. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ferman chose to uphold the policies of his predecessors as well as attempting to limit material which he personally felt could be harmful. He occasionally called attention to key episodes in individual films which were problematic but often marshalled established and familiar arguments about artistic discretion and quality filmmaking to avoid cutting high profile and important works. In 1976 when local authorities in Norwich and Cardiff expressed concerns about The Omen (1976), which had aroused a great deal of comment and controversy in America, Ferman replied personally to their queries. This was a very different approach from Murphy’s blanket and unsolicited opinions on A Clockwork Orange which caused so much trouble in Leeds in 1972. However the tone of Ferman’s letter on The Omen is similar to Murphy’s letter, particularly when Ferman uses his own experience and opinions as part of his judgement on the film. He suggests, “it seems to me that 19

BBFC file for Jubilee Transcript of talk given by James Ferman, ‘Censorship Today’ at an industry seminar sponsored by the AIC, 1979, 2. For a further discussion of Jarman’s Sebastiane (1976) see Sian Barber ‘Blue is the pervading shade: Re-examining British Film Censorship in the 1970s’, op.cit. 20

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although this is one of a series of films about [possession, this is] one of the more reputable ones. Very well made and far more of a thriller than an exploitation piece about the occult.”21 Once again the suggestion that the film is well made is used as a primary reason as to why it can be certificated. Ferman is making a clear distinction between this film and others which were perhaps thought to be exploitative and low quality. Despite his statements to the contrary, it is evident that this issue of quality was as relevant for Ferman as it was to either Trevelyan or Murphy. Another film which Ferman felt was of sufficient quality to outweigh any censorship issues was David Lynch’s The Elephant Man (1980) starring John Hurt and Anthony Hopkins. Ferman was not alone in his appreciation of the film; one of the examiners considered it, “a beautiful film … deeply moving with superb performances by the cast.”22 However both examiners felt that some of the film’s content made it problematic for the A category, citing specific scenes which could prove frightening for younger children. The report notes thoughtfully: Although it is filled with humanity, smaller children would no doubt try to see it as a type of horror film. In particular the nightmarish quality of the opening scene where Merrick’s pregnant mother is terrified by hoards of fantasy elephants, plus the sequence where the porter brings his cronies into the room… is strong fare for younger, unaccompanied children.23

The two experienced BBFC examiners considered that the film was a natural AA, one of them commenting that “the entertainment level of the film for young audiences is virtually nil” yet Ferman disagreed. According to the file, Ferman considered that the film should be passed with an A certificate as it could function as “a moral parable for kids as in Beauty and the Beast.”24 He insisted that a second group of examiners view the film to offer a second opinion. The records of the second examiners are unfortunately not present in the file, but ultimately the film was certificated AA in line with the judgements of the first team of examiners. This is an interesting and unusual example of an occasion when the views of the examiners overrule the opinions of the Secretary.

21

BBFC file for The Omen BBFC file for The Elephant Man 23 Ibid. 24 Ibid. 22

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Ferman’s recognition of the importance of artistic quality and directorial intent is evident from treatment of a range of films, but none more so than with The Long Good Friday (1979). This explosive and violent gangster film was submitted for certification in 1979 and Ferman publicly declared that he would not cut a single frame from such a high quality British film. However, the BBFC files reveal that the examiners were concerned about the violence, the political narrative and the language. One examiner commented, “an extremely well made British thriller with an exciting and different story. In a lesser film these [scenes of violence] might well have been cut. But within the context of this excellent film, they are acceptable.”25 The second examiner agrees about the quality of the film and the purity of the director’s intentions but also sounds a note of caution: We should be aware that we are passing here material we would certainly have cut, even at ‘X’, from a film made with less skill and directional flair, and we could also be laying ourselves open to accusations of xenophobic prejudice since comparable material would be cut from films originating in Hong Kong, Italy or perhaps the USA.26

These comments, along with Ferman’s stated intention not to cut any part of the film, demonstrate that the BBFC was fully aware that it was granting this film extra licence on the grounds of its quality and provenance. Despite his protestations to the contrary when defending Lisztomania, Ferman is relying very much on the judgements of his Board and his own feelings; here again the issue of personal taste emerges. Despite his personal responses to specific films, Ferman was very firmly a pragmatist. He believed in making a classification decision and then rendering that decision acceptable to the wider public. As part of his desire to demystify the work of the BBFC, Ferman introduced monthly bulletins which outlined the reasons behind classification decisions. This was a clever move and simultaneously addressed accusations of secrecy at the Board as well as informing those local councils who subscribed to the new bulletin about specific censorship decisions. Both of these changes were excellent PR moves as they drew attention to the regime change at the Board and the increased openness which Ferman was bringing to the organisation. Ferman also made moves to mend fences with government,

25 26

BBFC file for The Long Good Friday. Ibid.

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not only at local level but national level too. A letter from the Home Office thanks Ferman for the copy of the monthly report and notes: This seems to us a very useful development… Greater communication between the Board and Licensing authorities on the problems involved in censoring films and on the considerations affecting particular films must be all to the good, provided that authorities do not feel they being lectured or preached at, a criticism which I hasten to say I do not feel your experimental report incurs.27

Author and academic Guy Phelps also received a copy of the first report and his response was slightly more muted, observing: No doubt it will create as many problems as it will resolve but they should be more constructive ones. There is the whole problem of how far to offer a critique of a film… the occasional excursions into appreciative comment (e.g. regarding Barry Lyndon) ring rather oddly. Stephen you may remember was fiercely and rather unfairly attacked for waxing too eloquent over Kubrick’s previous films.28

This warning was duly noted and the bulletins usually restricted themselves, as much as possible, to an account of the classification process rather than offering an analysis or interpretation of the film itself. Ultimately, the issuing of monthly bulletins worked better than even Ferman had expected with the initial eager anticipation being replaced by indifference by the end of the decade. In 1980, Ferman was able to declare in the July bulletin that regular reports of BBFC activity would cease, partly due to workload pressures but also partly due to the small circulation for the completed bulletins.29 Ferman acknowledged the success of the bulletins and declared: Discussions with local government representatives have confirmed that their purpose has to a large extent been served and that councils have already acquired a fuller understanding of both the work of the Board and the purpose of film censorship in Britain.30

27

Letter from JC Dovey at the Home Office to James Ferman, 20 Jan 1976 from file JF/13 of the Ferman papers accessed from the BFI Special Collections. 28 Letter from Guy Phelps to James Ferman, 6 Feb 1976 from file JF/13 of the Ferman papers accessed from the BFI Special Collections. 29 BBFC Monthly Bulletin July 1980. 30 Ibid.

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Clearly the bulletins had served their purpose. Evidently, issues of censorship had ceased to be a matter of interest for local councils, most of whom were now abiding by the decisions of the BBFC. The clever implementation of this policy ensured that Ferman avoided the clashes with local councils which had plagued Stephen Murphy; though it is interesting to speculate how the BBFC would have fared had it circulated public documents justifying their classification of films such as Straw Dogs and Last Tango in Paris. Although the circumstances of 1976 were different to those of 1972, Ferman demonstrated a much deeper understanding of the anxieties and concerns of local councils than Murphy did. By keeping them informed of the censorship process – much in the way that John Trevelyan did with the sex education films of the early 1970s – Ferman ensured that the classification of films was presented as a process which involved both local councils and interested members of the general public not just the BBFC. Under Ferman the BBFC began to shift position. Film reports from the Association of Independent Cinemas (AIC) were introduced, their function being to examine each film with a view to its box office potential and audience appeal. Again, this was simply formalising a process which already existed at the BBFC. Both Murphy and Trevelyan had acknowledged that financial considerations often motivated a company’s desire for a specific category. Back in 1970 Columbia Pictures had objected to the X awarded to their romp Lock Up Your Daughters (1970) explaining to John Trevelyan that they would prefer an AA classification as this would be “a helpful way to create more revenue for the film which unfortunately still has a long way to go before recovery!”31 The AIC reports assessed the impact a film was likely to have on the market and how well it was likely to perform. Such reports would have been extremely useful for distributors and independent cinemas who could use these reports to help them decide forthcoming programmes. Many of the changes enacted at the Board in this period came about due to Ferman’s sensitive handling of difficult issues. Like all other Secretaries of the BBFC, Ferman also had his own personal prejudices which informed his approach to film censorship. As well as the concerns already identified about language and content, Ferman was clearly concerned

31 BBFC file for Stardust. Columbia to John Trevelyan, letter dated 20 October 1970, BBFC file for Lock Up Your Daughters.

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about children being influenced by film material. In a speech in 1979, he clarified his personal position and declared: If we don’t want our children to grow up believing that society exists only to be ripped off and that other people are fair game for any form of victimisation a shrewd operator can devise, then I believe we should offer pre-teen children better models for social behaviour.32

Ferman’s desire for better models of behaviour extended into the way violence was depicted in U certificated films. In an interview in 1982, he stated: Imitable techniques, criminal and violent, we will not pass for children on the whole – we don’t like heroes behaving badly in kid’s films in ways that are likely to be copied. If a hero won a fight by doing something disgraceful, on the whole we wouldn’t pass that for pre-teen children.33

As well as indicating his own personal ideology, Ferman’s comments illustrate how such views had become Board policy. The line on imitable techniques is a direct continuation of the policy established by Trevelyan and enthusiastically supported by Murphy, but Ferman took this further through his expressed desire to limit depictions in children’s films of characters lacking in moral fibre. On Ferman’s watch, the remake of the adventure story, The 39 Steps (1978), was denied a U and instead was passed in the A category due to the number of killings and some of the language within the film.34 Making this riotous remake unavailable to those unaccompanied by an adult appears rather hardline but fits in well with Ferman’s notions of imitable behaviour and good role models. As well as models of behaviour, Ferman also objected to certain imagery. His flat refusals to countenance chain-sticks or nunchucks in film are evident not only in the martial arts films which were major box office players in the 1970s, but also in films which used chain-sticks for comical purposes. The Pink Panther Strikes Again (1976) fell foul of this policy when it featured an episode where Clouseau fights his Japanese manservant using karate and a chain-stick. The file records firmly “Board policy is that chain sticks are not allowed in any category film and we 32 Transcript of talk given by James Ferman, ‘Censorship Today’ at an industry seminar sponsored by the AIC, 1979, 2. 33 James Ferman quoted in Beverley Brown, ‘A Curious Arrangement’ Screen 23:5 (1982), 14. 34 BBFC file for The 39 Steps.

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insisted that it be removed.”35 Ferman even went so far to recall the Bruce Lee vehicle Enter the Dragon (1974) in 1978 and request the removal of all chain-sticks from the film, a cut which amounted to 3 minutes and 25 seconds.36 A note on the file justified this autocratic behaviour with the claim that the removal of all shots of this weapon was due to a “recent spread of chain sticks among youths in the London area.”37 As well as chain-sticks, Ferman also objected to guns and was keen to avoid imagery with glamorised weapons. The newly introduced BBFC monthly bulletin praised the The Man Who Fell to Earth (1976) as an “ambitious and multi-layered film” but drew attention to a scene where a gun is used. The bulletin stated, “we suggested a slight reduction in the imagery of the gun in the sexual context and indicated a few shots in earlier sex scenes which we felt might be considered indecent.”38 The film file further reveals that the production company British Lion was instructed by the BBFC to clarify that in the scene in question, Bowie’s character is firing blank cartridges from the gun. The company was keen to co-operate, assuring the Board that: We have had David Bowie post synch his line about blank cartridges. I have specifically instructed our dubbing department to ensure that there is absolute clarity with this line so that nobody might misunderstand and believe that he is using anything but blanks in the revolver.39

Such careful attention to this prickly detail ensured that Nic Roeg’s carefully crafted sci-fi masterpiece could be passed without cuts. The spy and adventure film, Riddle of the Sands (1979) was also passed without cuts in the U category despite featuring the death of the villain Dollman by close gunshot. One of the BBFC observed, “the violence was handled with rare and admirable reticence, the shooting of Dollman indicated only by a splatter of blood on a picture.”40 Yet even this mild treatment had to be approved by Ferman himself. As the second examiner’s report notes “no problems for the U category expect for a blood splurge into a wall when 35

BBFC file for The Pink Panther Strikes Again. BBFC file for Enter the Dragon. 37 Ibid. 38 Notes on Man Who Fell to Earth taken from BBFC Monthly Bulletin February 1976. 39 British Lion to James Ferman, letter dated 13 February 1976, BBFC file for Man who fell to Earth. 40 BBFC file for Riddle of the Sands 36

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Dollman is shot. After discussion the Secretary considered this acceptable for the U.”41 The evidence suggests that Ferman, like Murphy and Trevelyan, brought his own range of idiosyncrasies to the BBFC. But he also astutely steered the organisation through a time of great change working assiduously to meet new challenges. The introduction of the monthly bulletins helped appease local councils and keeping local authorities informed in this way meant that contentious issues and troublesome films were dealt with carefully as part of the censorship process rather than sensationalised by the tabloid press. Ferman’s methods of working were different to both Murphy’s and Trevelyan’s, yet he drew on the best of their approaches and fashioned a third way which helped to establish the BBFC on a firmer footing in the later 1970s. Difficult times were shortly to come for the BBFC, with the launch of the Government’s investigation into film censorship in 1977 which formally questioned the existence of a Board of Film Censors and directed attention to the anomalous position of the organisation in a modern society.

41

Ibid.

CHAPTER EIGHT TO DEPRAVE AND CORRUPT

The shifts in BBFC policy and the changes brought about at the Board under James Ferman indicate an altered role for the organisation in the second half of the decade. However the two most significant events for the Board were motivated by external forces. Both of these events were to have major implications for the BBFC and both occurred on Ferman’s watch. The first was the extension of the Obscene Publications Act (OPA) to include film in 1977 and the second was the formation of the Government-commissioned Williams Committee to investigate obscenity and film censorship. As an unelected, self-policing, industry-funded organisation, the BBFC was independent of Government involvement and interference and yet at the same time beholden to members of the general public who were directly affected by its decisions. Any decision which proved unpopular with the public brought unwanted attention to the Board and frequently led to increased scrutiny of their activities. As well as public disapproval and negative publicity, the Board could also be subject to legal proceedings. As shown in chapter one, a private prosecution was mounted against the Swedish sex education film, The Language of Love, early in the decade. As the case dragged slowly through the courts, the judge, Lord Denning, highlighted the legal implications of the BBFC’s position when he observed, “the British Board of Film Censors is not a legal entity. It has no existence known to the law. It is but a name given to the activities of a few persons.”1 Herein lay the problem with the BBFC as an organisation; it had no statutory authority and its decisions could be challenged at will. Yet while the BBFC had little legal authority, its decisions and actions were determined by existing legislation which addressed film content and 1 Lord Denning cited in Report of the Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship: Cmnd 7772. HMSO, 1979, 27.

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broadly accepted by the film industry. As the 1970s progressed, legislation began to significantly impact the way the board operated; some of this legislation had a negative effect on the workings of the BBFC while other legislation produced surprisingly positive outcomes. The Animals Act which prevented animals being mistreated on film was passed in 1937 yet it was only in the 1970s that it began to be strictly enforced. A second significant piece of legislation was added to the statute book in 1978; the Protection of Children Act (PCA). This made it a criminal offence to distribute, show or possess indecent photographs of children under the age of sixteen. The legislation prevented children under the age of 16 being present in images of indecent behaviour and nudity. Unlike the OPA which crucially allowed for a defence of the material based upon its context, the PCA refused to accept either defence of context or that of artistic and cultural quality, both of which the BBFC had been applying to a range of submitted material for years. Films which encountered problems with this legislation included Louis Malle’s Pretty Baby (1978). The narrative of Pretty Baby, its thematic considerations and brothel setting make it an unsurprising victim of the PCA, but other films also encountered legal trouble, including those from unexpected genres. The British-made horror film, Killer’s Moon (1978), was submitted to the BBFC in rough cut on 20 July 1978. The first examiner’s report initially focuses on the nature of the film itself and draws attention to the quality of the material and the obviously low production values, observing: If it were not so inept in both direction and acting this could have been a film to put Texas Chainsaw in the shade. As it is, it becomes ludicrous and completely lacks impact. To be fair, we saw a cutting copy and although we do not envisage any cuts for the X category, we wish to see the tailcutting scene and the first rape with full sound added. 2

The second considered it to be an “awful, cheap horror movie… seeing the film in rough cut it was difficult to tell whether the horror would be more competent with the final soundtrack. Most of the gore is straightforward grand-guignol.”3 The expected judgements on quality are here, but there is also evidence of an increased awareness of legislation, with the second part of the examiners report’s noting pointedly: 2 3

BBFC file for Killer’s Moon. Ibid.

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I am somewhat worried about the tail cutting [of a cat] in close up, as I feel that there are certain things that one does not see even in a horror film and the amputation of part of an animal’s body is one of them. The Secretary and [the other examiner] however, feel it is acceptable in this film. We are also requesting confirmation from the company that no animals were illtreated in the making of this film. 4

As well as concern for the animals in the film, the examiners were also wary about a rape scene. This sequence was rendered particularly problematic as the female actors involved all play schoolgirls, look unsettlingly youthful and wear school uniforms throughout the film. The rape is carried out by a man who is mentally disturbed, and this is directly referenced in the BBFC report with an examiner observing, “both examiners were concerned about the first rape by the lunatic on a schoolgirl. If she is screaming and he is burbling, we will probably want cuts.”5 Although producer Alan Birkinshaw confirmed that the girl was over 16 when the film was shot, the young actress, Jane Lester, was invited to the BBFC offices along with her birth certificate, so that official proof of her age could be added to the film file.6 Once this was done, the film could be certificated X and would no longer be at risk of being classified “pornography” or legally challenged for appearing to corrupt a minor. The film’s production company were also called upon to formally confirm that no deliberate acts of cruelty to an animal took place during the making of the film. Once again Birkinshaw wrote to the BBFC offering a detailed explanation about the use of animals in the film, assuring the Board: No animals were harmed or ill treated whatsoever. Hannah, the three legged dog was accompanied at all times by her handler and both she and the cat were used to people – the dog being a pub dog and the cat being a studio cat. The cat had no tail and the scene where its tail is cut is merely a knife cutting a piece of rag.7

In the same year, The First Great Train Robbery (1979) was also challenged for its use of animals and a lengthy ratting sequence was

4

Ibid. Ibid. 6 Copies of these documents still exist on the BBFC file for Killer’s Moon. 7 Alan Birkinshaw to BBFC, letter dated 11 August 1978, BBFC file for Killer’s Moon. 5

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significantly cut from the film at the direct request of the Board.8 Earlier in the decade, the BBFC had queried the use of horses in the Battle of Omdurman scenes in Young Winston (1972) but had accepted the informal assurances of director Carl Foreman that all the horses were specially trained and that none had been injured during shooting.9 Young Winston was a very different kind of film to Killers Moon, but it is interesting to note how times had changed and by 1978 formal declarations about the treatment of animals were required. The active enforcement of the Animals Act in the later 1970s indicates a new level of awareness at the Board that legislation like this could not be ignored but instead could actually be used to protect the organisation. Killer’s Moon was released in 1978, only a few years after the furore surrounding The Exorcist in 1974, but the Board’s responses to these two films were completely different. For The Exorcist, Stephen Murphy consulted with church leaders and clinical psychologists to see if the film could be considered blasphemous or psychologically damaging to audiences. On the basis of their reports, Murphy concluded, “The Exorcist is more of a social phenomenon than a problem in censorship” drawing attention to the way in which the film had been vilified in the press and using the professional verdicts from the psychologists to assuage the anxieties of local councils.10 For all this careful consideration of the possible impact of the film on audiences, Murphy did not take any legal advice to protect the BBFC. In his responses to concerned parents, council leaders and religious groups, he makes no reference to existing legislation which could have helped protect the Board from the inevitable negative publicity and also from the risk of embarrassing private prosecutions. Here, the BBFC was not demonstrating any awareness of protective legislation, nor using the admittedly archaic blasphemy or obscenity laws to protect itself. Yet by 1978, the Board considered the rights of animals and children from their very first viewing of all films and ensured that all films fully complied with all legislative requirements. Even under the careful leadership of John Trevelyan, legislation was not considered by the Board in the same amount of detail as it was under Ferman. The 8

BBFC file for The First Great Train Robbery. BBFC file for Young Winston. 10 Stephen Murphy to Chester District Council, letter dated 17 June 1974, BBFC file for The Exorcist. 9

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controversial Soldier Blue (1971) which had shocked audiences with its graphic violence was passed with some cuts by the BBFC in 1971, but the files make no reference to the use of horses within the film’s extensive battle sequences.11 However by 1983, when the film was reviewed for video classification, the treatment of animals was highlighted by one of the examining team at the initial viewing. Also flagged up was a highly graphic rape which had been allowed to remain in the film in 1971, but was entirely cut from the film for its video release.12 These examples demonstrate how the BBFC was becoming far more aware of the legal frameworks of censorship under Ferman’s leadership. The files also reveal that issues which had appeared unproblematic in earlier periods would no longer be permitted in the late 1970s. The BBFC could no longer make its decisions based solely upon quality and directorial intent. Significantly, films from the second half of the decade show clear evidence of legal, ethical and moral scrutiny as well as a clear sense of self preservation, suggesting how the BBFC was bringing its decisions into line with the practices of common law. One of the films where this new attitude of legal scrutiny is most apparent is Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979). The film’s purportedly controversial content was well-documented in the press, but what is perhaps less well known is the legal advice which the BBFC took over this film. A detailed enquiry from the Board to its legal representatives raised the difficult issue of possible blasphemy. The BBFC wondered whether the film could be considered blasphemous and if the Board could be prosecuted for certificating it. The lengthy reply received addresses their concerns and states: No scene, in our opinion, contains any attack on the Christian religion or on Christ or on religious observations nor are these matters derided. It does not, in our view, offensively abuse sacred subjects or ridicule or vilify them; although it does treat in a humorous, not to say hilarious manner of certain biblical stories and characters.13

As well as addressing the content of the film, the solicitors also outlined the existing legal framework of the blasphemy laws: 11

BBFC file for Soldier Blue. Ibid. 13 BBFC Solicitors to BBFC, letter dated 11 July 1979, BBFC file for Life of Brian. 12

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As the courts have emphasised, a blasphemous libel is only established if the jury finds it to be so. We can not feel that any jury properly directed would convict Life of Brian of such an offence. Two consequences therefore follow – firstly, we think it puts up a considerable disincentive for even a fanatical group to institute a prosecution; secondly, it follows from our opinion that Life of Brian is not illegal.14

This legal advice demonstrates not only that the BBFC was proceeding cautiously with film releases likely to cause offence, but that it was also taking this advice and using it to frame their responses to the press and to local councils. It is significant that Life of Brian arrived at the Board in 1979. By this time, film had been under the jurisdiction of the Obscene Publications Act for two years and this established legal framework had strengthened the position of the organisation. Despite the controversy the film aroused, no legal challenge was ever mounted against the certification of Life of Brian. Ferman considers this issue at length in an internal memo, where he notes: An examination of local decisions on the Monty Python film show that almost none of the councils with regular experience of viewing films found it necessary to alter the Board’s AA certificate. Furthermore, most of the committees who altered the certificate to X or banned the film completely had not seen any film during the past 2 years.15

Ferman’s work with local councils would seem to have paid off, with only those unfamiliar with the practices of censorship actively questioning Board decisions. Improved relations with local councils were partly down to Ferman’s bulletin initiative but also had a great deal to do with the altered nature of film censorship. Writing in 1982, Screen critic Beverly Brown claimed that: The BBFC’s survival of the 1970s can be attributed to the emergence of a very coherent policy, combining its claims to filmic and legal expertise through a canny use of the terms of the Obscene Publications Act, finally extended to film in December 1977.16 14

Ibid. Memo from James Ferman undated, circa 1980 from file JF/50 of the Ferman papers accessed from the BFI Special Collections.

15

16

Beverley Brown, ‘A Curious Arrangement’ Screen 23:5 (1982), 5.

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Certainly the extension of the existing OPA to include film was a major change for the BBFC, but as shown, this alone does not fully account for the new legislative focus of the Board. The OPA was extended in 1977 following prolonged campaigning by Ferman, who considered that safeguarding the BBFC from private prosecutions was one of the most important parts of his job. Ferman felt that extending the OPA to cover films would remove the threat of private prosecutions being brought against films which had been passed by the BBFC. Under the OPA, prosecutions for obscenity could be brought only by the Director of Public Prosecutions. Ferman saw this as a victory for the BBFC as film was removed from, “the old common-law tests and brought solely under the ‘deprave and corrupt’ test of the OPA.”17 In an interview Ferman pointed out that removing the common law test of indecency would help address the absurdity of a system which had operated on opaque principles. He observed: Under this test one frame of extreme genital nudity or an indecent act portrayed in a film, however the context might justify it, could make the film indecent in the sense of offending the propriety of the average man.18

Bypassing these outdated concepts allowed the BBFC to classify material secure in the knowledge that as long as the Board abided by the dictates of the OPA and its “deprave and corrupt” terminology, it could not be prosecuted. Even if a formal suit was brought against it as an organisation, such a case could no longer be brought by an individual, a local council or a pressure group. The position of the BBFC was strengthened and allowed it to continue to request removal of material which could be classified as obscene under the broader definitions of the legislation. This allowed the BBFC to look again at films like the famous soft-porn Emmanuelle, which had been classified in 1975. When viewed again, Ferman took exception to the final scene at the end of the film where Emmanuelle is raped and enjoys the experience. Under the license granted by the OPA and fitting in with the changing attitudes to women and sexual violence, the BBFC requested that this scene be cut from the film. In a 1979 bulletin, the BBFC explained its decision stating unequivocally, “Board policy now accepts that the exploitation of rape as

17 18

James Ferman quoted in Beverley Brown, ‘A Curious Arrangement’ Ibid. 10. Ibid. 11.

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an erotic spectacle could fall foul of the ‘deprave and corrupt’ test. Particularly if presented as desirable and even beneficial for the victim.”19 Ferman later claimed that the OPA “provided a vocabulary for framing an overall policy argument” and this would prove crucial in the BBFC’s submissions to the Williams Committee.20 Thanks to the OPA, the private prosecutions which had plagued the BBFC were now a thing of the past, but the Board was still keen to address its legally ambiguous status. Ferman saw working with the Williams Committee as the way to achieve this. Commissioned by the Labour government, the Williams Committee met for the first time in 1977 with a brief to investigate film censorship and obscenity. One of the committee members, lawyer A.W.B Simpson, later suggested that “no single incident provoked the appointment of the Williams Committee… it was set up as part of the general process, always continuing and, one fears, never completed, of tidying up and rationalising the law.”21 This rationalisation process was to take two years and to provide mixed results, not least because the mood in 1977 was very different to the mood of 1979 when the Committee delivered its report to the newly-elected Thatcher government. Ferman greeted the appointment of the Williams Committee with enthusiasm and would later reflect that this period was crucial to the development of the BBFC. In a 1979 industry seminar, Ferman described the situation when he arrived at the BBFC in 1975 as “a time when the cinema was going through a brief period of control by the criminal law.”22 He recounted how: Exhibitors and distributors had been hauled before the courts, the police were beginning to interest themselves in the sort of entertainments put on in the licensed cinema and censorship was a highly controversial and contentious subject in Britain.23

19

BBFC Bulletin No 1, 1979 James Ferman quoted in Beverley Brown, ‘A Curious Arrangement’ Ibid. 9. 21 A.W.B Simpson, Pornography and Politics (London: Waterlow Publishers Ltd, 1983), 17. 22 Transcript of talk given by James Ferman, ‘Censorship Today’ at an industry seminar sponsored by the AIC, 1979, 12. 23 Ibid. 12. 20

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The official report of the Williams Committee reflected on the current system of film censorship and noted pointedly: Parliament has never legislated for the censorship of films; it is purely a matter of accident that the film censorship system was able to find some statutory support when it first struggled into existence... Its having been taken for granted for so long obscures the fact that it is undeniably odd. It is its constitution rather than its operation which is odd.24

The Committee concluded that the modern role occupied by the BBFC was “anomalous” but did concede that “the practice of film censorship has been undertaken over many years without reference to formal consultative arrangements and with remarkably little controversy.”25 Without question, the Williams Committee recognised the complexity of the work undertaken by the BBFC and acknowledged it in their lengthy report. A.W.B Simpson, writing in 1983, remembered that: The committee spent a great deal of time studying the workings of the existing system of film censorship and in viewing and discussing both with the Secretary of the Board and other witnesses, the problems presented by films, particularly commercially produced films of an extremely violent character.26

However it was not simply the activities of the BBFC that were being scrutinised. Rather it was the position of the organisation within the law. The Committee’s conclusions stated firmly: The present system for the censorship of films has by and large served us well. We are sure that most people wish a system to continue on broadly similar lines. But we found a widespread feeling that the time had come to remove the anomalies inherent in the system and to establish censorship on a more rational and deliberate footing. This is what our proposals seek to do.27

The Committee members saw their investigation as an opportunity to formalise the position of the BBFC and also to address the power of regional councils, many of whom were still heavily involved in the 24 Report of the Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship: Cmnd 7772. HMSO, 1979, 22. 25 Ibid. 34. 26 A.W.B Simpson, Pornography and Politics op.cit. 37. 27 Report of the Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship op.cit, 158.

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censorship process at a local level. The report proposed the introduction of a new statutory body “which will have the necessary powers to replace those now wielded by local authorities” and suggested that the BBFC would be best placed to act as an appeals body rather than as a classification organisation itself. 28 The report and its recommendations were duly presented to the new Thatcher government in 1979, yet few of the suggested reforms materialised. Four years later, Simpson was writing that the BBFC: Has not been formally changed into a government agency but increasingly close co-operation with the Home Office and Director, together with an indirect increase in its powers by the Act of 1981 [Indecent Displays Act], can go some way along that route and this is apparently happening.29

More significantly the Board was shortly to receive its first statutory powers via the Video Recordings Act of 1984, a piece of legislation which Kate Egan terms, “perhaps the most stringent form of regulation imposed on the media in a Western country.”30 The introduction of separate powers to legislate for videos further complicated the BBFC’s position in relation to films. Despite the findings and recommendations of the Williams Committee, no appeals board was launched and local councils continued to exert their influence on film exhibition at local levels notably with Monty Python’s Life of Brian in 1980. In 1979 Ferman justified the Board’s continuing existence and made explicit reference to the way in which the BBFC operated within the legal system. He claimed, “we always try to be aware of where the law is and where Magistrate’s courts and juries are drawing the line.”31 It is clear that Ferman saw this legal awareness as part of the work of the Board, and in his submission to the Williams Committee a few years earlier had emphasised this, pointing out firmly: Examiners are expected to be aware also of judicial decisions and changes in the law relating to films. In order to keep in touch with the state of public opinion, examiners are encouraged to speak as frequently as

28

Ibid. 151. A.W.B Simpson, Pornography and Politics op.cit, 88. 30 Kate Egan, Trash or Treasure?: Censorship and the Changing Meanings of the Video Nasties (Manchester: MUP, 2007), 1 31 James Ferman quoted in Beverley Brown, ‘A Curious Arrangement’ op.cit 9. 29

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possible to youth and community groups as well as at schools, colleges and universities.32

To his 1979 audience, Ferman explained that, as he saw it, the BBFC did not operate within a legal framework but they did apply the law. He suggested that one of the BBFC’s most crucial roles was to set national standards and that it was acceptable for local authorities to diverge from these standards if they desired to do so. 33 Such a bold and provocative statement was immediately countered by a further comment by Ferman which noted that since the publication of the Williams report, few councils had actively been challenging the classification decisions of the Board. Here Ferman is cleverly positioning the BBFC as a reasonable and forward thinking organisation who had no need to quibble with local authorities, while simultaneously informing his audience that very few authorities now questioned the BBFC’s decisions anyway. The Williams Committee was set up to investigate the anomalies created by a piecemeal system of censorship and the operation of the Board of Film Censors. Yet, the findings of its extensive investigation were not acted upon and the BBFC continued to act as informal and unelected arbiters of taste, deciding what could and could not be permitted within the cinema. Perhaps the new Thatcher Government was uninterested in the findings of a Labour initiative, or perhaps it was fully aware of the complications and expense which would be attached to the setting up of a formal and statutory censorship body. Perhaps there were also fears that altering the existing system - which even the Williams Committee had judged to work fairly well - would be opening up a debate about state censorship, freedom of expression, artistic integrity and personal and institutional control which the new Government was keen to avoid. Although not acted-upon, the findings of the Committee are significant as they indicate the level of debate and discussion taking place in Britain in 1977-1979 around the problematic issue of film censorship. Of course, not all were satisfied with the work of the Committee and the National Viewers and Listeners Association was quick to highlight its displeasure by issuing a statement which declared:

32

BBFC submission to the Williams Committee, TNA File HO 265 / 2 Transcript of talk given by James Ferman, ‘Censorship Today’ at an industry seminar sponsored by the AIC, 1979, 13. 33

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Chapter Eight We believe the report to be hard and calculating and lacking in compassion and understanding of the effect of pornography upon people and upon relationships… the only way of resolving the vexed question of what is and what is not obscene is for the government to introduce legislation which specifically defined those sexual acts, the depiction and description of which are illegal.34

Despite such challenges to its findings, the Williams Committee recognised the value of the BBFC and in doing so, helped to safeguard its future. But this did not mean that the BBFC’s legal problems were over. Although private legal prosecutions were now a thing of the past, the issues posed by new technology emerged to dog the organisation in the final years of the decade. Just as film and television censorship had been crucial issues in the 1960s, the late 1970s and the early 1980s were characterised by the Board coming to terms with the spread and impact of home video technology. Also at this time and specifically in the final years of the decade, Ferman formalised his own working practices at the Board and began to instigate further changes which would carry the BBFC into the next decade.

34

NVALA pamphlet ‘NVALA response to the Home Office consultation document on the report of the Williams Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship’ (circa 1980), 6.

CHAPTER NINE NEW CHALLENGES

James Ferman’s leadership of the BBFC was to last for 24 years until his retirement in 1999. During his tenure, massive changes were wrought at the BBFC and the cultural, legal and political landscape of film censorship fundamentally altered. Following the findings of the Williams Committee, Ferman had to ensure the longevity and security of the organisation and deal with a host of new challenges, caused mainly by changing markets and new technology. One of the new problems Ferman had to contend with was the influx of American films including Saturday Night Fever (1977) and Grease (1978) which specifically targeted the teen audience. Innocuous as many of these films may now seem, at the time their language, tone, content and teen appeal made them problematic texts for the BBFC. These films were submitted to the BBFC alongside blockbusters such as Star Wars (1977), Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) and Superman (1978), which posed problems of a different kind.. In the following decade British filmmaking would enter a new phase with acclaimed films such as Chariots of Fire (1981), but the end of the 1970s saw a rash of British sexploitation films. What is striking about the final years of the 1970s is the hugely diverse range of films which the BBFC were called upon to classify. Many of these films were targeting completely different, and highly specific, audiences which posed a range of problems for the organisation. From David Essex’s drug addled and iconic pop star in Stardust (1974) to the gyrations of John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, the Board were concerned about the role models being presented to teenage audiences. In previous years concessions had been made with films such as Tommy to make the films available for teenagers. Although the BBFC recognised that these films would be appreciated by teenage audiences, Tommy was an adult text and very different from the slew of American films which focused upon teenagers as the central protagonists. Back in 1973, the

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BBFC had refused to grant an A certificate to American Graffiti (1973) without expressions such as “horny”, “screw” and “arse” being removed. Faced with this choice, George Lucas declined to cut the film and accepted the higher AA category. 1 By the time the BBFC came to consider Grease in 1978, language was still an issue but the Board appeared to be bowing to the inevitable. Commenting on this film, both BBFC examiners noted the language but agreed that it should be passed as an A, one declaring “it deals with teenage romance with a light touch and is neither explicit nor vulgar in its treatment of male frustration.”2 The second examiner is slightly more cautious and makes direct reference to problematic terms and phrases within the film which he felt positioned the film at the top of the A category including “use my virgin pin”, “right friggin A” and “you gonna flog your log.”3 Within Grease, the high school setting and the thematic preoccupations of love, sex and romance located the film as text for youth audiences. However, the preoccupation with teen protagonists was not restricted solely to romantic comedies or dramas; the horror film also began to focus upon teenagers as suitable objects for films and ones which would guarantee their appeal. The focus on teenagers as the victims in horror films was nothing new, but the late 1970s saw a number of modern American horror films which focused unreservedly on this demographic. The heady combination of horror film conventions with underage sex, drink and drugs proved to be a potent and lucrative pairing. Filmmakers had to ensure that they handled these topics sensitively and avoided explicit material which would confine them to the X category. By the end of the 1970s, there are frequent references in the BBFC files of the need for a new category to sit between the AA and the X to meet the demands of the over 16 audience. One film which was perceived by its examiners to be a perfect example of a text which was too strong for the AA, yet too mild for the X was Carrie (1976). Brian de Palma’s horror tale of a bullied teenage girl who discovers she has telekinetic powers combines teenage angst with religion, sex and violence in a high school setting. One of the examiners noted that, “in the early part of the film, de Palma observes with real sensitivity the fears, humiliation and cruelties of adolescent life and extracts a 1

BBFC file for American Graffiti. BBFC file for Grease. 3 Ibid. 2

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performance of real luminosity from Sissy Spacek.”4 The decision taken to present a realistic portrayal of teenage life was lauded by the BBFC, but the explicitness of a number of scenes made the film problematic for a straightforward AA pass. Although commenting on the “heavy handed symbolism” of the film, the examiners praised the “set piece of death and disaster at the prom” yet drew attention to a number of problematic issues, notably some of the scenes of bullying. Ultimately the examiners felt: The viciousness of the scene where class-mates pelt Carrie with tampons and sanitary towels shouting ‘plug it up’, the crudity of the language and an off-screen fellatio made Carrie a little too strong for AA. It would be a perfect film for a 16 year old category.5

The issue of the 16 and over category was one which surfaces repeatedly within the BBFC files through the final years of the 1970s. During the classification of both Quadrophenia (1979) and Alien (1979), one of the female examiners drew attention to the need for a category for the over 16s, suggesting that both of these films, and many others like them, could fit easily and unproblematically into a new category. In her notes on Alien she considers that if the BBFC raised the AA to 16, this film should be one of the first to slot into the new category.6 Yet in 1979, Alien was still a problem as no such classification existed. The second BBFC examiner for Alien outlined the problems with the sci-fi horror text, observing: The film generates an enormous amount of tension and is really a marginal X/AA. The 2 most horrific scenes are the birth of the creature and the clubbing to death of Ash. The problem is that to make this an AA really opens up the whole field of horror to a similar category.7

The file reveals that the BBFC were asked to consider an AA for the film, but before the film could be examined by other examiners to consider this request, the production company decided to opt for the X. One examiner observed that this choice was “a safe and probably uncontroversial decision that shouldn’t get us into any trouble”8 She would later comment in relation to Quadrophenia:

4

BBFC file for Carrie. Ibid. 6 BBFC file for Alien 7 Ibid. 8 Ibid. 5

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Chapter Nine Had we a category that admitted 16 year olds I hope we could consider this for it despite the violence of both action and language, the brief and unsatisfactory sexual encounters and the reliance on drugs for escapism, particularly since the tragedy to which this last in particular contributes is so clearly defined.9

In this period it was repeatedly suggested by the examiners that many of the youth driven and oriented film texts which were being submitted to them were posing problems as there was too big a gap between the AA and the X certificates. Alien is an interesting case study, for the amount of material on file and the serious consideration given to the film and its possible influence suggest that it was seen as a test case for teen audiences and the possibilities of a new category. The BBFC bulletin from 1979 justified the Alien decision in an unusual way; it does not focus on the classification process but rather considers the implications of the film and its possible impact on audiences. The bulletin observed carefully: It is customary in Britain to assume that fear is bad for younger audiences particularly if evoked through nightmare imagery, but there is little hard evidence for such a judgement. Since the Board would prefer to make such category decisions on the basis of some precise knowledge or audience vulnerabilities, and particularly of the degree to which they may be related to age, we have approached a research body with the suggestion that the question of the harmfulness of fear might provide a fruitful area of study.10

Here the BBFC is testing the waters by gently suggesting that as an organisation, it may be erring on the side of caution by basing its decisionmaking process on outdated and uncertain perceptions of what audiences may find frightening, and that these fears were often impossible to define. It is possible to see the hand of James Ferman in this call for increased research in this area, thus shifting the responsibility away from the BBFC and towards psychologists and researchers. Such a strategy fits in with Ferman’s agenda to divert attention from specific cases handled by the BBFC to address issue of changing standards of permission and acceptability. Although Alien’s producer and director had agreed to the X classification, complaints from teenagers outraged by their inability to see the film prompted them to resubmit it to the BBFC for re-examination the following year. This resubmission so soon after the initial theatrical 9

BBFC file for Quadrophenia BBFC Bulletin Number 2, 1979

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release suggests that the film was deemed by the Board to be sufficiently borderline to merit a reappraisal. Two new examiners viewed the film and offered their own views on its classification. Both examiners felt that the film should under no circumstances be cut and one suggested that although the clever structure ensured maximum shock effect, it was the overall “feel” of the film which made it too strong for younger teenagers. 11 The second examiner expressed concerns about the way in which the film used sexual imagery in a horror context, observing that, “the images are not always explicit but run like a dark undercurrent throughout suggesting a powerful, un-threatening, un-named force.”12 She also noted that some of the more explicit images suggest a “perverse view of the reproductive function” which may be confusing and disturbing to younger teenagers.13 In light of these considerations the film remained in the X category. Although Alien’s classification did not change, the examiners reports shed light on the contemporary debates taking place at the Board around specific issues to do with the audience. One examiner noted that the BBFC general rule of passing horror films as X was not inviolate and should be reappraised and questioned from time to time. It was also suggested that if a category was created for over 16s a great many X rated horror films, including Alien and Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978), could be reclassified for this age group.14 Other films which sit awkwardly between categories and could be added to this list are Friday the 13th (1980) and Carrie. It is interesting that these horror films were confined to the X category yet Annie Hall (1977) with its strong dialogue, drug references and adult themes, all identified by the examiners, was passed AA.15 This would appear to indicate that the BBFC policy on drugs was far more relaxed than the policy on horror or sex, but more pertinently, Annie Hall belongs to a very different genre from the horror films with their exploitative and low culture associations. One BBFC examiner suggested that if any of these films were to be considered as suitable for the AA category then the Board should seek advice from psychologists who are “better informed on the impact of

11

BBFC file for Alien Ibid. 13 Ibid. 14 Ibid. 15 BBFC file for Annie Hall 12

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horror film on youngsters.”16 The examiners were keen to acknowledge that they were not experts in psychology or child behaviour and it was becoming increasingly apparent that the distance between the X and AA certificates was causing problems. This was the case with Franco Rosso’s Babylon (1980) which reached the Board in 1980. Producer Gavrik Losey was keen to have the film certificated as an AA so that it would seen by younger audiences, but the BBFC considered that it should receive the X because it was “potentially inflammatory in its reinforcement of racial stereotypes.”17 The Board’s assessment of the film was echoed by the Commission of Racial Equality and the archive files record how seven representatives from the Commission viewed the film with the BBFC in Soho Square and then participated in a lengthy discussion. Babylon was a clear example of the Board refusing to grant a lower certificate because the material it contained was considered too inflammatory, but the same argument was also applied to Oh Calcutta! in 1972.18 In both of these cases the specific objections were informed just as much by prevailing social and cultural conditions as they were by the text itself. Yet with Babylon, it was the level of violence in the film and the racial stereotypes which the examiners found uncomfortable, but in his letter to Losey, Ferman states “all of us agreed that if the age for the AA certificate were 16 instead of 14, as we have frequently recommended to the industry, the film would be a natural for the 16 year old category.”19 Here again is a reiteration of the arguments about the classification system. The Board is not suggesting that the material within Babylon is so extreme that it takes the film into the X category but rather that the content is too extreme for 14 year olds. The archive files indicate that the BBFC was acutely aware of the vast differences between audiences for AA certificate films and those for X certificate films and the examiners consistently draw attention to a range of film texts which occupy this space between the two classifications. One film from a very different genre which was also potentially seen as suitable for a younger audience was Apocalypse Now (1979). The quality of this film was immediately recognised by the BBFC examiners, who commented, “this is a superbly made film that finally does not satisfy 16

BBFC file for Alien James Ferman to Gavrik Losey, letter dated 2 October 1980, BBFC file for Babylon 18 BBFC file for Oh Calcutta! 19 Ibid. 17

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because of the difficulty in making the philosophical ending when Willard and Kurtz meet, believable in cinematic terms.”20 Despite the quality of the film, the examiners ultimately felt: Because of the strong dialogue and the bloodiness of the last section of the film showing the decapitated heads etc it is X category, but apart from the strong language (I counted at least four fucks and motherfuckers) due to its rather dreamlike quality it is not a strong X. 21

The suitability of this film for a younger audience was an issue which re-emerged with its video classification in 1987, yet at the end of the 1970s, the language alone was enough to restrict the film to the highest possible category. Extreme language in film dramas was a problem, particularly within the war film. Films which dealt with war in a playful or oblique manner such as Charge of the Light Brigade (1968) with its animated sequences and dark humour posed no problems for the BBFC who granted the Woodfall film an A certificate in 1968.22 In the same year, John Trevelyan was approached by Richard Attenborough to offer suggestions on the script of Oh What a Lovely War! (1968). Trevelyan was able to advise that the subject matter and the way in which it was handled made the film suitable for the A certificate, commenting “it is an adult theme, but the material is not likely to be suitable only for people of 16 and upwards.”23 As the 1970s progressed, the changes in permission allowed makers of war films a great deal more freedom to depict the brutalities of war in graphic detail and use more extreme language. In 1977, Attenborough’s A Bridge Too Far (1977) was seen by the BBFC and considered to be a natural A film, but with a few problematic phrases and graphic episodes. One of the BBFC examiners noted, “the bloodshed and violence of war, while realistically portrayed, does not reach a level which would prove offensive to the family audience.”24 But, for a family-friendly film which fitted into the A category the Board would not permit the word “fuck” in 20

BBFC file for Apocalypse Now Ibid. 22 BBFC file for Charge of the Light Brigade 23 Richard Attenborough to John Trevelyan, letter dated 1 April 1968, BBFC file for Oh What A Lovely War! The over 16s which Trevelyan refers to here are the potential audience for X category films. The over 18 X was not created until 1970. 24 Richard Attenborough to James Ferman, letter dated 12 May 1977, BBFC file for A Bridge Too Far 21

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the dialogue. Attenborough saw this as an opportunity to test the boundaries of permission and wrote to Ferman arguing that the film had been given a PG certificate in America and that the film’s anti-war message and single use of the expletive should not restrict it from reaching the largest audience possible.25 Despite these pleas for the A category, the Board remained firm and it was only after alternative words were substituted for the offending phrase that the film was granted its A certificate. A range of other films were also consigned to the X category in the late 1970s due to their language including Sweeney! (1977) and McVicar (1980). The BBFC commented upon McVicar’s “authentic prison dialogue – using fuck/cunt - for the most part used casually and naturally for particular emphasis” while Sweeney! used the word “fucking” throughout and featured an intricate call girl sub-plot and scenes of realistic violence.26 Both of these films, along with The Squeeze (1976), which included scenes of violence and “alcoholic degradation” were restricted to the X category.27 Clearly at this point in the decade, license was not to be given to films which used extreme language and it was this language confined films to the highest category. Even when the Board is actively discussing changes to its policy for the teenage audience, it is clear that some things, such as language in the A category, would not be permitted to change. The comments noted from a range of different files and across a range of different film genres, allude to possible shifts in Board policy, yet there is very little evidence of Ferman’s involvement in these discussions. Certainly a characteristic of all the files from the late 1970s is the relative absence of Ferman’s interventions and the more hands-on involvement of a number of the individual examiners. Overt championing of a category for the over 16s by one of the female examiners is evident from the lengthy comments on a number of the files, while Senior Examiner Ken Penry is also very much to the fore, responding personally to letters of complaint from members of the public. This was a high-profile job which was usually performed by the Secretary of the Board, but in these years Penry’s signature accompanies these official responses. Although Ferman is a shadowy presence in the archive files, he was highly visible in these years on the lecture circuit commenting publicly on the activities of the 25

Ibid. BBFC files for Sweeney! and McVicar 27 BBFC file for The Squeeze 26

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Board and working to secure the organisations future. There is a marked absence of Ferman’s written comments on the debates surrounding the suggested changes to the classification process, but this perhaps is indicative of his preferred methods of working. It is also possible to attribute these changes at the BBFC to the inclusion of film under the auspices of the Obscene Publications Act. The security offered by the OPA perhaps allowed the BBFC examiners to work more confidently knowing that their work could not be so publicly and vigorously challenged as it had been earlier in the decade. While the BBFC was considering how best to deal with films suited to over 16s, the American blockbusters and a surge of war films, it was also dealing with submissions from a genre which had established a foothold in the British film industry. At the end of the decade, British sexploitation was in its death throes, but the films submitted for classification indicate how far taste, permission and notions of acceptability had shifted. While calling for further research into harmful material and perhaps changes to the classification process to benefit the teenage audience, the Board was simultaneously evaluating material which pushed boundaries of taste as well as permission. Interestingly, in the later 1970s, sexually explicit films were often considered by the BBFC to offer nothing to a teenage audience and so were not even considered for lower categories. This was the case with The Stud in 1978 with the examiner noting that: The visual material was well within the X category for sexual material but the theme was unedifying for an AA audience and the language was unnecessarily crude…. a squalid, badly made picture with nothing to recommend to a teenage audience.’28

The second summed up the film’s content as, “shaven of pubic encounters…. several bed scenes, all discreet, fair amount of bare breasts, a swimming pool orgy which is not too orgyesque, a defloration - discreet and quite a lot of language.”29 It was a similar story with The World is Full of Married Men (1979), which was adapted from a Jackie Collins screenplay. Unlike the highschool driven American romantic comedies which dealt with issues 28 29

BBFC file for The Stud. Ibid.

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relevant to adolescents these films focused on the sex lives of adults. Or as the senior examiner described this particular example, “ludicrous melodrama about unsympathetic philandering, self-pitying media/fashion/ pop people.”30 There was nothing in this film for teenage audiences, so the film was classified as an X, not so much on the grounds of its content but on the grounds of its perceived appeal. A similar argument was mobilised around Confessions from the David Galaxy Affair (1979) which was described by a BBFC examiner as “a piece of self –indulgence” and “an unmannerly and vulgar display.”31 The examiner laments the fact that there is little which can be done to prevent the film from being certificated insofar as it does not contravene the OPA, but objects strenuously to the content and tone, much as earlier BBFC examiners had bemoaned the immorality of Cool it Carol (1970) earlier in the decade. Once again the issue of taste emerges when the BBFC comes to classify films of this type. The second report for The World is Full of Married Men considers that the worst parts of the film were the “coarse dialogue” and that the characters were “boring and distasteful at worst and shallow at best.”32 Despite these specific objections, the BBFC grudgingly admitted that the bed scenes in the film were discreet and it was the voyeuristic aspects of a lesbian scene and the subsequent orgy which pushed this film into the X category, rather than the general level of content. Content was also the problem for a whole rash of similar films from these years including Come Play with Me (1976), Let’s Get Laid (1978) and the Adventures of… series. Yet the problems identified within these films were often secondary in the BBFC reports to more general comments about taste and quality. Let’s Get Laid was dubbed “confused and witless” while cult favourite Come Play with Me was judged to be “an inauspicious addition to the plethora of stupid sex comedies now in circulation.”33 Adventures of a Private Eye (1977) was felt to be, “another puerile British contribution of cinema of sex with a snigger” while one examiner noted about Adventures of a Plumber’s Mate (1978): It is sufficiently tasteless to suggest the exclusion of those in their formative years in the hope that they might one day mature to full adult 30

BBFC file for The World is Full of Married Men. BBFC file for Confessions from the David Galaxy Affair. 32 BBFC file for The World is Full of Married Men. 33 BBFC files for Let’s Get Laid and Come Play with Me. 31

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mentality and perhaps, one might hope, shun such puerile and mucky absurdity.34

Attitudes to sexploitation at the BBFC had clearly changed little since the early years of the decade. Yet what is significant in the Ferman years is that these films were seen very much as adult texts and so the BBFC was making its classification decisions based upon the intended audience for these films and not upon the content they contained. Considerations about the audience were very much a part of unwritten BBFC policy in the later 1970s. The arrival of the blockbusters had propelled audiences back into cinemas and films like Jaws and Star Wars proved that they could secure the mass audience in a way that few other films in the 1970s had been able to do. It is important to consider how the BBFC engaged with texts which were designed for the largest possible audiences and were keen to avoid controversy as a means to secure enormous box office receipts. The submission of Jaws to the BBFC in 1975 signalled the start of the blockbuster era and indicated how such texts would be treated by the Board. Prior to the film’s release in Britain in 1976, the BBFC invited child psychologists to view the film with them. In his letter of invitation, Ferman wrote: We would all be most interested to hear your views on the film’s suitability for young unaccompanied children between the ages of 7 and 13. There is no doubt in my mind that the film is suitable for ages of 14 and over, which would be our AA category and I feel fairly confident that most boys of 11 to 13 could cope with fairly well and might feel extremely hard done by should we chose to deprive them of the experience.35

In particular it was the issue of unaccompanied children, who might see the film if it was classified as an A, which disturbed the BBFC. Ferman outlined the Board’s concerns when he noted, “I feel we must be concerned for the more vulnerable among the young audience particularly with images of such terrible power as those in this particular film.”36 The observations of the child psychologists are not present on the BBFC file, but the findings would appear to support Ferman’s initial consideration of 34

BBFC file for Adventures of a Plumbers Mate. James Ferman to a child psychologist, letter dated 17 Sept 1975, BBFC file for Jaws. 36 Ibid. 35

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an A category. However, the A was granted with certain caveats which related to the film’s exhibition rather than to the film itself. Ferman requested that statements of advice for parents, suggesting that they not allow unaccompanied children to see the film, should be displayed outside all cinemas. This peculiar request attempted to address the issue of children seeing the film unaccompanied by an adult; an action which was completely legal under the A category. In attempting to protect themselves from complaints and objections to their decision, the BBFC simply highlighted the inadequacies of the classification process and the problems which could ensure if it began imposing these kinds of caveats on exhibition spaces, over which it had no direct authority. The Kinematograph Renters Society was unhappy with this approach and wrote to the BBFC objecting to the Board’s public justification of the Jaws certificate and advising bluntly, “the practice of your issuing a press statement was damaging to the industry and to the credibility of the certificates granted by the BBFC.”37 Jaws was a difficult case as it was the first of a series of films which aimed for huge audiences but at the same time sought to provide exciting and engaging material.38 Star Wars was less controversial due to its more family-friendly narrative, yet concerns were expressed by the BBFC about the U certificate granted to the film, particularly about the cinematic impact of the film. One examiner considered that: On a large screen with full stereophonic soundtrack, some of the shoot outs could be quite frightening for young audiences and in addition, shots of mutated inhabitants from other planets and the tearing off of an arm, could be more worrying than similar sequences seen on a small TV screen.39

This concern is disputed by the second examiner who suggests that a “TVreared generation” would not be alarmed by the content and would instead “be held enthralled by the ingenuity of the spectacle.”40 Although expressing opposite opinions on the reactions of the audience, both examiners are in agreement about the undeniable impact of the film and its cinematic nature. In the same year, the BBFC was also called upon to 37

Kinematograph Renters Society to James Ferman, letter dated 17 December 1975, Ibid. 38 The file for Jaws contains a large number of letters of complaint about the film, suggesting not all were happy with the A category. 39 BBFC file for Star Wars. 40 Ibid.

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classify Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977). For the examiners concerned this was a far superior film; one report refers fulsomely to the “power of this film” while the other considers it, “astonishing … to see this film is an act of wonder. The climax to the film is a quasi-religious experience both moving and dignified. Disbelief is suspended and wonder becomes the dominant mood.”41 Crucially the BBFC felt that the film’s serious intentions did not make it suitable for the U category. One examiner noted that it was not an “outer-space romp, so a U along the lines of Star Wars would actually be misleading.”42 The other examiner also drew attention to the adult themes of abduction and the subsequent distress of the mother which might frighten younger viewers; for these reasons the film was slotted into the A category. Superman (1978) was also restricted to the A category as the examiners felt that the violence and scenes of “scary panic” as well as the flirtatious dialogue between Lois and Clark made the film unsuitable for the U category.43 In the final years of the 1970s, the BBFC concerns about language and the teen audience are clearly evident and represent a changing attitude towards this age group. It is noticeable in these years that the BBFC were dealing with distinct groups of films - sex films, war films and gritty dramas as well as blockbusters and American teen films. All of these films posed very different challenges from the BBFC and while discussions about taste and quality still persist they are accompanied by careful distinctions and considerations of different audiences. The archive files also reveal an awareness of the changes which the new video technology would require as well as renewed concern over the impact of material on children and adolescents. Under Ferman’s careful leadership the work undertaken by the BBFC in the final years of the decade, placed the Board in a strong position for the start of the new decade. Yet so much had changed during the 1970s period and many of the debates which had informed censorship discussions in the early years of the period were now obsolete. However, the legal position of the BBFC remained as it had at the start of the decade and debates about censorship, taste and permission continued and would all inform discussions and events in the decade which followed.

41

BBFC file for Close Encounters of the Third Kind Ibid. 43 BBFC file for Superman 42

CONCLUSION INTO THE EIGHTIES

As the BBFC stood on the cusp of a new decade, the anxieties of the early 1970s seemed very far away. The lesbianism of The Vampire Lovers (1970), the gory explicitness of Countess Dracula (1971) and the coarse vulgarity of Burke and Hare (1972) appear far less threatening when compared to the material in Carrie (1976), Sweeney! (1977) or The Stud (1978). Yet this study has not simply charted changing attitudes to horror, violence and sex over the course of the decade. The files reveal that the Board grappled with a much wider range of issues including imitable violence, depictions of children, presentations of alcoholism, rape, gang culture, basic morality, social responsibility, drugs and mental illness. The examination of a range of film texts has shed light on these and many other issues of concern and has explored how these concerns directly impacted upon classification decisions and the wider censorship process. The archive has revealed that BBFC discourses around particular films or groups of films in the 1970s were complex, multi-faceted and often contradictory. Distinctions made between quality films and-low-budget fare attest to judgements based on personal preference; expressed concerns about representations of women sit uneasily alongside exploitative comedies like On the Buses (1971); and the relaxation of material for teenage audience juxtaposed with the increased desire to protect juvenile audiences indicate contradictory approaches to childhood. Discussions about taste and quality also continue throughout the decade and are applied indiscriminately to all films encompassing the full range from The Man who Fell to Earth (1976) to The World is full of Married Men (1979). The files have revealed a wealth of new information and have allowed the exploration of film examples which may never previously have been considered in censorship terms. For example the concerns expressed about chain-sticks in The Pink Panther Strikes Again (1976), treatments of animals in Killer’s Moon (1978), depictions of mental illness in Asylum (1972), alcoholism in The Squeeze (1977) and the representation of rape in

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Four Dimensions of Greta (1972). Moving beyond a small and perhaps predictable selection of films has offered a rich seam of material which has helped to illustrate the vagaries of censorship policy and the individual decision-making which was such a feature of the BBFC in this decade. It also indicates that debates about censorship are not simply about extremes of material and the X certificate but rather how a range of category distinctions are applied to a range of different material. It has been fascinating to explore how the work of the BBFC extended beyond simply classifying material or requesting cuts. For example the considered and thoughtful advice given by John Trevelyan to Love Variations (1971), even though it was refused a certificate, and the work undertaken by Stephen Murphy to ensure that The Holy Grail (1975) reached the largest possible audience. This work has uncovered numerous instances of the BBFC working closely with the film industry from script stage onwards, in order to secure the correct categorisation for individual films. Murphy, Trevelyan and Ferman worked with studios and production companies offering advice, brokering compromises and often suggesting a choice of category so that the filmmakers themselves could decide whether to cut or to receive a higher category. Such assistance through the tricky censorship process did not go unremarked upon and the archive files are full of letters from directors and producers who acknowledge the extensive help offered by the BBFC. The cases which did receive press attention were often those contentious (and minority examples) when the BBFC and the director or produce could not agree – Scorpio (1973) being an excellent case in point. The desire of the BBFC was to make sure that films were classified responsibility but at the same time not to savage work which the industry had produced. The image of the scissor wielding censor is wholly inappropriate and in offering a choice of categories, the BBFC frequently allowed work to be classified without it being cut at all, thus supporting Annette’s Kuhn’s suggestion that censorship does not only prohibit and repress but that it can also be “productive in its efforts.”1 Throughout the 1970s the BBFC was accused of being too reactionary and too liberal, for classifying unsuitable material and refusing to certificate other material, for being in thrall to pressure groups or being at 1

Annette Kuhn, Cinema, Censorship and Sexuality 1909-1925 (Routledge: London, 1988), 4

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the beck and call of the film industry. Yet throughout periods of intense scrutiny in the 1970s, the BBFC doggedly continued to classify films. Murphy’s refusal to be bullied over A Clockwork Orange (1971) or The Devils (1971), Trevelyan’s dedication to sex-education films, and Ferman’s championing of Jubilee (1977) and The Elephant Man (1980) all reveal how committed the respective Secretaries were to ensuring that high quality films reached cinemas unscathed by the censorship process to be seen and enjoyed by the public. Yet it is undeniable that the lack of any formal policy left the BBFC open to accusations of favouritism and bias. The archive files reveal the internal discussions which took place around specific films, but it was not until the tenure of James Ferman that the BBFC began to articulate a more defined policy and to justify their decisions publicly. Prior to Ferman’s bulletins, the holistic approach to film censorship was enforced through a series of agreed understandings and established precedents. As Murphy wrote about The Sting in 1973, We have tried very hard to keep the word ‘shit’ out of A certificate films. It occurs twice here. It is my personal opinion that this is one of the few films which we have seen recently that stands the chance of attracting very large audiences. In these rather dreary days when we see so little that has any wit or sparkle, it was a pleasure to watch it.2

Here we have the established precedent of language within the A certificate, but most interesting is that way that the request for the amendment to the film is coupled with a compliment about the quality and pleasurable nature of the film itself. As has been demonstrated, this was precisely the kind of personal comment which would get Murphy into trouble in the decade. The idiosyncrasies and personal foibles of the BBFC examiners and Secretaries are evident within the archive and these undoubtedly informed the inner workings of the Board as well as influencing individual decisions. The importance of personal judgement must not be underestimated, and in particular the contribution of individual examiners who drew on their own value systems and actively applied these to the material submitted. Although the examiners strove to be impartial and objective, individual voices do emerge from the archive files which 2 Stephen Murphy to Alfred Jarrett, letter dated 20 November 1973, BBFC file for The Sting.

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indicate their preferences, including; active campaigning for the teenage audience and the introduction of a new certificate, a dislike of extreme language and exploitation, a strenuous rejection of the claims of “artistic quality”, and concerns about films which featured “violence done to women.” Yet we must be cautious. Much of this material is drawn from internal documents and was never intended to be seen by those outside the Board. Personal opinions are clear from the examiners reports but feedback to production companies, directors and producers are written from the point of view of the BBFC as an organisation rather than from individuals. Many of the occasions which brought the board into conflict with local councils, individuals or production companies was often caused by personal opinions being offered. As Stephen Murphy found out with A Clockwork Orange and as James Ferman was informed over his strategy with Jaws (1975), personal opinions and justification for the Board’s decisions were not always met with approval by the general public and the film industry. Stephen Murphy’s disputes with Michael Winner were coloured by accusations of Murphy applying his own standards of taste and acceptability to the work of the Board, thereby influencing Board policy and making it stricter and less accommodating than it had been under John Trevelyan. Such accusations were incredibly damaging as they drew attention to the ad-hoc nature of British film censorship and the anomalous position of the Board. A great deal of this work has drawn attention to the way in which films were viewed in the 1970s and the objections and issues identified in many of the texts here may appear ludicrous now. However, standards of taste and boundaries of permission are not easily defined and do not operate on a gradual, liberalising course. What was perceived to be shocking in the 1970s will not automatically be acceptable in the 1980s or 1990s. Changing social and cultural attitudes to violence, representations of women, racial language, religious imagery and sexual behaviour draw attention to the fact that the meaning of cultural texts are never fixed but rather that they relate intimately to the socio-political discourses in the society which consumes them as well as the society which created them. For example Royal Flash (1975) starring Malcolm McDowell was granted the A certificate in 1975, following the reduction of some of the language and one troublesome scene. But in 1987 the BBFC felt that the “brothel dialogue”, the sexual references, nudity and violence made the

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film “stronger than James Bond” and wholly inappropriate for the PG category. 3 Despite the fact that children could have been watching the film in the cinema for years, they were now prevented by the new 15 category granted to the film on video. Oh Lucky Man! (1973) was rated X in 1973, due in part to the Board’s reluctance to impose any cuts on the Lindsay Anderson film. By the time the film was reappraised for the video market in 1984, the examiners considered “some visuals have been accepted enough by society to enable us to now take them to a lower category.”4 But the film was granted the 15 certificate only after a debate with members of the original examining team, which indicates that perhaps that the film was still considered to be contentious and did not automatically receive the lower certification for video. Following its introduction in 1982, the 15 certificate finally allowed films to be classified to suit the tastes of the teenage audience. At the same time the X was replaced with the 18 certificate and the AA was removed altogether, while the A became PG. The 15 classification did specifically allow a teenage classification, but films from the 1970s which the BBFC reclassified for video in the 1980s contained a number of aberrations. This was mainly due to the way in which the new medium of video was perceived and the different social and cultural climate in which the decisions were made. David Lean’s Ryan’s Daughter (1970) was classified as an AA in 1970 due to a few brief flashes of nudity, yet remained a 15 on video due to the sexual nature of some of the scenes. Here a film which contains nothing which is exploitative or sensationalist remains for older audiences only, because the BBFC considered that the length of the love scene may cause embarrassment to “PG inclined parents.” 5 In giving the film a 15 certificate, it became closely aligned with very different 1970s fare including Oh Lucky Man! and Royal Flash, both of which contain a great deal more adult material. Yet for every film which was still considered problematic for a range of different reasons in the 1980s, there were many others which passed without incident to a much lower category. Little Big Man (1970) was allocated an AA certificate in 1970 which restricted it to over 14s. Despite repeated appeals from Warner Bros. throughout the decade, the BBFC 3

BBFC file for Royal Flash BBFC file for Oh Lucky Man! 5 BBFC file for Ryan’s Daughter 4

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stood firm and refused to alter the category, with one examiner stating, “I do not consider that it can be cut to a U.”6 Yet by 1979, the film was a U without any cuts, a testament to the huge social changes which had taken place within the decade. The complexities of the censorship process and the importance of context were noted carefully by a BBFC examiner writing in 1986 about the classification for video of the 1973 film Jesus Christ Superstar (1973). This film had been passed A without any cuts in 1973, yet in 1986, the examiner sounds a note of caution observing: The fact that that story is a known quantity saves the most harrowing moments from being overwhelming. The list of events – flogging, hanging, crucifixion and vandalism in the temple – would have most censors scrabbling for their 15/18 category – before seeing the film, but the story is of course embedded in our consciousness.7

The examiner points out that despite the fact that the narrative is well known and this to some extent mitigates the content contained within the films, there are certain sequences which are troubling. She notes: Judas hanging himself on the tree, the flogging of Christ (39 blows) and the hauling to and the handing from the cross are images one would wish to beware of putting before very young or vulnerable kids - so PG offers the necessary warning.8

It is possible to see here, not just a text whose graphic imagery is now going to be available in the home, but wider social concerns about the young and vulnerable which were brought to the fore by the furore over the ‘video nasties’ in the early 1980s, particularly in the reference to “young or vulnerable kids.” This work reveals how this organisation sought to meet the changing demands and expectations of audiences and to keep pace with and in some case, directly respond to social change. It has highlighted the contradictions inherent within any debates about censorship; specifically, how can any organisation or collection of individuals, decide what is suitable for a general audience? By the end of the 1970s, along with the wider film 6

BBFC file for Little Big Man. BBFC file for Jesus Chris Superstar 8 Ibid. 7

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industry, the BBFC was acknowledging that the mass audience were no more. The focus on the teenage audience and high school films, sex films which would only appeal to adults and concerns over the impact of the blockbuster on very young children indicate that the Board was thinking carefully about different audiences. Fluctuations in government funding and film industry finance brought about shifts in production while changes in exhibition and distribution targeted different niche markets. In order to make the most appropriate classification decisions, the BBFC had to respond to and acknowledge these new audiences. While this study has focused predominantly on the popular and the mainstream film submissions, there is still a great deal of the BBFC’s work to be considered, for example how did they deal with animated films, documentaries or European art house cinema? Many of these kinds of films would have fallen outside the parameters of the mainstream, but if they were to be exhibited in British cinemas they would still have been submitted to the Board. Due to the paucity of data for the 1970s period, we know very little about audiences. We simply do not know who was seeing the films which the BBFC worked so hard to certificate and if its careful evaluations of content fitted with the expectations and desires of the audience who actually watched them. Although our understanding of audience and film popularity remains opaque, for this period, what we do know is that controversy only increased box office receipts. A high-profile censorship row was no bar to box office success, provided of course that audiences could find a cinema which was showing the film. The Board’s thoughtful consideration of different audiences and the way in which people could respond to cinematic material colours all of its deliberations throughout the 1970s. Unlike sections of the film industry, the BBFC was keenly focused upon the audience; all the Board’s decisions were based upon what audiences would accept and how they could respond to visual material. Although frequently derided by their detractors for their anxieties about imitable violence or explicit sex, frightening sequences and material which could upset, embarrass or confuse, the conscientious and often painstaking work of the BBFC should no longer be overlooked. One of the most striking revelations of the archive material is the BBFC’s increasing legal awareness towards the end of the 1970s and their consideration of material within a carefully constructed legislative framework. As well as improving relations with local councils and

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Conclusion

working carefully with members of the film industry, Ferman’s work on the lecture circuit did much to rehabilitate the reputation of the BBFC in the later years of the decade. In 1984, the BBFC would be renamed the British Board of Film Classification, a change of name which placed firm emphasis upon their classification work and moved further from the quagmire of censorship issues, which all too frequently threatened the organisation. The stability of the BBFC was further enhanced by the alliances which respective Secretaries forged with other stakeholders and organisations. Trevelyan’s friendship and close working relationship with Bob Frazer from the ITA, Ferman’s courting of local councils and Murphy’s work with audiences all demonstrate recognition of the need for the BBFC to reach beyond the traditional parameters of the film industry. The varying success of these strategies underlines the importance of good public relations for an organisation which consistently has to justify its existence and decisions. Yet even such alliances were fallible; Murphy’s alienation from local councils and Ferman’s failure to work effectively with the ITA indicate the complexity of the working relationships demanded of the BBFC. In trying to please a range of paymasters and critics, the BBFC often ended up pleasing none of them. As Kuhn identifies, “film censorship is a process embodying complex and potential contradictory relations of power.”9 Although the BBFC was responsible for classifying films, its work was frequently determined by a much larger and diffuse set of power relationships involving national and local government, the press, pressure groups, the film industry and the general public. The information uncovered about the Government’s involvement in the work of the BBFC in 1973 indicates just how fragile and complex these power relationships were, and how the Board had to tread carefully in order to avoid conflict and confrontation with important and influential stakeholders. This work offers a detailed study of a specific historical period. However many of the same issues identified for the 1970 are still relevant to modern censorship debates and the power relationships identified are still crucial. Many contemporary anxieties relate to problems of technology and the impact of such technology on children. The way in which these

9

Annette Kuhn, Cinema, Censorship and Sexuality (Routledge; London, 1988), 11

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anxieties manifest themselves is telling, with David Buckingham writing in 2001 that: Children are seen here, not as confident adventurers in an age of new challenges and possibilities but as passive victims of media manipulation; and the media not as potential agents of enlightenment or of democratic citizenship, but as causes of moral degeneration and social decline.10

We can see here that although the times have changed the debates have not. In the modern age, the censorship process is complicated by the existence of the internet. Anything is available online and often these ease with which users and viewers can access such material, actively calls into question the function and effectiveness of organisations such as the BBFC. Writing in 2007, Julian Petley drew attention to the way in which new technologies make it almost impossible to restrict access to visual material and how this in turn impacts upon the work of the BBFC. However, Petley also considers that little has changed in the way the BBFC approaches film censorship, noting: While it is generally true that the climate of the 21st Century in the West is more permissive than in the past and that classification now plays a greater role than censorship in the activities of bodies such as the MPAA and BBFC, the limits of what is permissible continue to preoccupy these bodies.11

Instead of Ferman’s monthly bulletins the BBFC now justifies its decisions on its website and draws upon its clearly defined and formal code to justify the decisions it makes. In also produces detailed annual reports. In 2011 the BBFC took the rare decision to deny a certificate to the film, The Human Centipede II. This was an unusual step for the BBFC as the Board have always sought to classify or cut rather than to refuse certification, and as their annual report for 2010 confirms: It is now rare for cinema films to be cut at the adult level because the BBFC operates from the general principle, endorsed by the public, that

10

David Buckingham, “Electronic Child Abuse? Rethinking the media’s effects on children” in Ill-effects: The Media Violence Debate edited by Martin Barker and Julian Petley. London: Routledge 2001, 32 11 Julian Petley and Phillip French, Censoring the Moving Image Manifestos for the 21 Century series (Oxford: Seagull Books, 2007), 51.

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Conclusion adults should be free to make their own viewing choices, provided no legal or harm issues are raised.12

The denial of a certificate to The Human Centipede II resulted in a media furore, and responses to this decision and to descriptions of the film itself reveal how the old arguments about extremes of material versus freedom of choice are alive and well in modern Britain. With The Human Centipede II the Board refused to certificate the film as it contravened their official code with “a strong focus throughout on the link between sexual arousal and sexual violence and a clear association between pain, perversity and sexual pleasure.”13 As well as judging that the film went beyond what was acceptable and permissible, crucially the Board also used the protection of the Obscene Publications Act to categorise the film as extreme material which could possibly cause “potential harm” to viewers under the Video Recordings Act. It was not simply a case that the film was extreme and contained material which could be deemed offensive but that it was judged to be “potentially harmful.” The OPA and VRA can both be directly linked to the 1970s and both pieces of legislation continue to protect the BBFC from the kind of problems which plagued Stephen Murphy with The Devils. Although increasingly aware of legislation in the later 1970s, the archive has revealed an organisation grappling with the complexities of culture in a rapidly changing decade. The Board still carries a legacy from these years as it continues to consider material in terms of what is permissible rather than simply abiding by their defined code. Decisions can still be contentious and the way in which these decisions are frequently reported in the press, often bear a striking resemblance to the outrage and hysteria of previous decades. However, without the struggles of the 1970s - the endless debates about quality, anxieties about influence, increasing legal awareness, avoidance of Government censorship, the extension of the OPA and the battles with local councils - the BBFC would not have emerged as an institution ready to cope with the challenges of the 1980s.

12 Taken from BBFC 2010 Annual report access from http://www.bbfc.co.uk/download/annual-reports/BBFC_AnnualReport_2010.pdf. 6. The BBFC has not denied classification to any other films in the past ten years and in 2010 only rejected a single DVD/Video release. 13 Comments taken from statement made by the BBFC and posted on their website. http://www.bbfc.co.uk/newsreleases/2011/06/bbfc-rejects-the-human-centipede-iifull-sequence/ accessed 3 August 2011.

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In striving to make the correct decisions at the correct time and ensure that these decisions were acceptable to the general public, the BBFC enabled the film industry to push boundaries, to challenge perceptions and, most crucially, to entertain. In his biography, John Trevelyan, quoted Stephen Murphy who claimed that the role of BBFC Secretary was “an impossible job.” Yet James Ferman saw things differently. In a private letter in 1976 he acknowledged: All individual censorship decisions are fallible as are all political decisions and it is well to admit this openly. Nevertheless, because government is difficult is no reason to abdicate the responsibility.’14

Clearly for Ferman the work that the Board did was important and the organisation took its responsibilities seriously. The archive material has shown that the BBFC was heavily committed to ensuring that films in Britain were sympathetically classified often working closely with directors and producers to achieve a mutually satisfactory result. In a decade riven with social and cultural contradictions, the Board worked tirelessly to champion the work of the wider and increasingly globalised film industry, frequently mediating between the desires of directors and producers and the expectations of the audience. Just as the 1970s should no longer be considered a period which is culturally wanting, the BBFC’s work in the 1970s should no longer be considered as repressive, unsympathetic and draconian. A careful reading of the archive has indicated the Board’s much more nuanced approach to a range of material, which reveals a great deal about popular taste and notions of acceptability in a crucial post-war decade.

14 James Ferman letter dated 16 Jan 1976 from file JF/4 of the Ferman papers accessed from the BFI Special Collections.

APPENDIX LIST OF CUT FILMS

Year of decision 1970 1971 1972 1973 1974 1975 1976 1977 1978 1979 1980

Total number of works 730 700 667 732 718 559 622 549 465 483 471

Number cut

% cut

180 142 191 226 243 169 184 154 97 98 76

24.7% 20.3% 28.6% 30.9% 33.8% 30.2% 29.6% 28.1% 20.9% 20.3% 16.1%

Table of cut films taken from http://www.bbfc.org/classification/statistics/

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Books Aldgate, Anthony and James C Robertson, Censorship in the Theatre and the Cinema. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2005. Baillieu, Bill and John Goodchild, The British Film Business. Chichester: John Wiley and Sons, 2002. Barker, Martin and Julian Petley, (eds) Ill-effects: The Media Violence Debate. London: Routledge 2001. Betts, Ernest, The Film Business London: George Allen and Unwin, 1973. Bloch, Marc, The Historian’s Craft (7th Edition) Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1992. Dickinson, Margaret and Sarah Street, Cinema and State: The Film Industry and the British Government 1927–1984 London: BFI Publishing, 1985. Egan, Kate, Trash or Treasure?: Censorship and the Changing Meanings of the Video Nasties Manchester: MUP, 2007 Halligan, Benjamin, Michael Reeves, British Film Makers Series, Manchester: MUP, 2003. Hutchings, Peter, Hammer and Beyond: The British Horror Film Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1993. Kuhn, Annette, Cinema, Censorship and Sexuality, Routledge; London, 1988. Lloyd, Peter, Not for Publication. London: Bow Publishing, March 1968. Mathews, T.D, Censored: What they didn’t allow you to see and why. The Story of Film Censorship in Britain. London: Chatto and Windus Ltd, 1994. Metz, Christian, Film Language: A Semiotics of the Cinema; translated by Michael Taylor. New York: Oxford University Press, 1974. O Higgins, Paul, Censorship in Britain London: The Chaucer Press Ltd, 1972 Perks, Robert and Alistair Thomson (eds), The Oral History Reader London: Routledge, 1998. Petley, Julian and Phillip French, Censoring the Moving Image Manifestos for the 21 Century Series, Oxford: Seagull Books, 2007

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Bibliography

Petley, Julian, Film and Video Censorship in Modern Britain. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2011. Phelps, Guy, Film Censorship. London: Victor Gallancz Ltd, 1975. Robertson, James, The Hidden Cinema: British Film Censorship in Action 1913 -1975. London: Routledge, 1993 2nd Edition. Simpson, A.W.B, Pornography and Politics. London: Waterlow Publishers Ltd, 1983. Thomas, David and David Carlton and Anne Etienne, Theatre Censorship: From Walpole to Wilson Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Trevelyan, John, What the Censor Saw. London: Michael Joseph Ltd, 1973. Wistrich, Enid, ‘I don’t mind the sex, it’s the violence’: Film Censorship Explored London: Marion Boyars Publishers, 1978.

Chapters in Edited Collections Buckingham, David, “Electronic Child Abuse? Rethinking the Media’s effects on children” in Ill-effects: The Media Violence Debate edited by Martin Barker and Julian Petley, 32-47. London: Routledge 2001. Chibnall, Steve “A Heritage of Evil: Pete Walker and the Politics of Gothic Revisionism” in British Horror Cinema edited by Steve Chibnall and Julian Petley 156-171. London: Routledge, 2002. Hunter, I.Q.,“Take an Easy Ride: Sexploitation in the 1970s” in Seventies British Cinema, edited by Robert Shail, 3-13. London: BFI/Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. Hutchings, Peter, “The Problem of British Horror.” in Horror: The Film Reader edited by Mark Jancovich 117-124. London: Routledge, 2002, Smith, Justin, “Glam, Spam and Uncle Sam: funding diversity in British film production of the 1970s.” in Seventies British Cinema edited by Robert Shail, 67-80. London: BFI/Palgrave Macmillan.

Journal Articles Barber, Sian, “Blue is the pervading shade: Re-examining British Film Censorship in the 1970s” Journal of British Cinema and Television, 6:3 (2009) 349-369. Brown, Beverley. “A Curious Arrangement.” Screen. 23:5 (1982): 2-25. Cumberbatch, Guy. “Legislating Mythology: Video Violence and Children” Journal of Mental Health. 3 (1994) 485-494. Hunnings, Neville. “Censorship: On the Way Out?” Sight and Sound 37: 4 (1969) 201-202

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Newson, Elizabeth, ‘Video Violence and the Protection of Children’ Journal of Mental Health (1994) 3, 221-227. Phelps, Guy. “Censorship and the Press.” Sight and Sound, 42:3 (1973): 138. Wilson, David. “Waiting for Murphy.” Sight and Sound. 40:4, (1971): 189-190.

Newspaper Articles Anonymous “Film Violence as Crime Stimulus: Police Commissioner on ‘Bad Effects’” The Times, 17 March, 1958. 16. Accessed via Lexus Nexus on 13 July 2011. Cashin, Fergus, “Review of Straw Dogs”, The Sun, 7 January 1972. Curtis, Polly “David Cameron backs proposals tackling sexualisation of children.” The Guardian, 6 June 2011. Accessed at http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2011/jun/06/david-cameronchildren-sexualisation-commercialisation on 11 June 2011. Dunkley, Chris, “Too much violence new Censor says.” The Times, 19 March, 1971. 2 Factor, Donald, “Letters to the Editor.” The Times, 24 December, 1971. 11. Ferman, James “Do you care what your children watch on video?” Mail on Sunday, March 28, 1993, Sunday, 20. Accessed via Lexus Nexus on 13 July 1011. Ferriman, Annabel, “No Clear Evidence that Screen Violence leads to similar acts by audience” The Times, 8 September, 1977. 8. Hodgkinson, Neville, “Film Censor retiring to ‘let in a fresh mind’” The Times, 4 January 1975, 2. PHS The Times Diary, “New Attempts to Stifle Trash”, The Times,16 November, 1971, 14. PHS ‘The Times Diary, “Censor forms Trash disposal unit”, The Times, 29 March 1971, 12. Walker, Alexander, Review of Straw Dogs”, Evening Standard, 25 November 1971. Winner, Michael, “Disenchantment with the Censor.” CinemaTV Today, 11 August, 1973. 3.

150

Bibliography

Online sources BBFC site http://www.bbfc.org/classification/statistics/ Dictionary of National Biography accessed online at http://www.oxforddnb.com

Government Sources Parliamentary debates (Hansard) House of Commons official report, Volume 720, 1965-1966, 18 November 1965, 92-93. Parliamentary debates (Hansard) House of Commons official report. Volume 776 1969, 23 Jan 1969, 648 -649. Parliamentary debates (Hansard) House of Commons official report, Volume 720, 1965-1966, 18 November 1965, 92-93. Parliamentary debates (Hansard) House of Commons official report. Volume 776 1969, 23 Jan 1969, 648 -649. Report of the Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship: Cmnd 7772. HMSO, 1979 Stephen Brody, Screen Violence and Film Censorship, Home Office Research Study No 40, HMSO, 1977

Archive Sources British Film Institute BBC (corporate author) Control of subject matter in BBC programmes (London: BBC London Publishing. undated circa 1967) NVLA (corporate author) NVLA response to the Home Office consultation document on the report of the Williams Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship (circa 1980, unpublished typescript) Association of Independent Cinemas (corporate author) “Censorship Today” talk given by James Ferman at an industry seminar sponsored by the AIC, (London: AIC, 1979)

James Ferman Papers BFI Special Collections JF/4 – Williams Committee (File 2 of 2) JF/13 – BBFC and Local Authorities JF/50 – BBFC Problem Films Misc (including Life of Brian)

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ITA sources - University of Bournemouth Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume I (undated) Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume II, January 68 – September 81, Censorship and Banning, Drama Internal Policy Volume III (undated)

The National Archives HO 265/85 Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship: Evidence and Papers. Letters from Public HO 265/2 Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship: evidence (BBFC) HO 265/7 Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship: evidence (Portsmouth) HO 265/67 J R Rathbone MP forwarding a letter from his constituent Mr D R G Moore, who complains about the showing of the film `The Life of Brian' HO 300/128 Cinema censorship: Minister's Case; 'A Clockwork Orange'; summary of responsibility for censorship HO 300/129 Cinema censorship: Minister's Case; 'A Clockwork Orange'; personal view of Home Secretary HO 300/130 Cinema censorship: Minister's Case; 'A Clockwork Orange'; precis of the then current system of censorship; Home Office discussion with Secretary of the British Board of Film Censors HO 300/166 Summary of film censorship and opposing views: legislation and local authority responsibilities HO 300/171 Communication with Greater London Council on film censorship: summary of background to legislation on censorship and Home Office position

Portsmouth City Archive Minutes of Fire Services and Public Control Committee meetings 1971 1974, books CCM1/54 and CCM1/55, Portsmouth City Archives.

British Library British Board of Film Censorship Bulletins for 1976 (Reports 1-12), 1977 (Reports 1-12), 1978 (Reports 1-12) and 1979 (Reports 1-3) Accessed at the British Library

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Bibliography

British Board of Film Classification Archive files accessed at the BBFC: 10 Rillington Place The 39 Steps A Bridge Too Far A Clockwork Orange A Nice Girl like Me The Abominable Dr Phibes Adventures of a taxi driver Adventures of a Plumbers Mate Adventures of a PrivateEeye Agatha Alien American Graffiti And Now the Screaming Starts Annie Hall Apocalypse Now Asylum At the Earth’s Core Babylon Barry Lyndon Bawdy Adventures of Tom Jones The Beast in the Cellar The Beast Must Die The Bed-sitting Room The Big Sleep Blazing Saddles Blind Terror Blood on Satan’s Claw Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb Blow Up Burke and Hare Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid Cabaret Carrie Carry on Abroad Carry on Camping Carry on Dick Carry on Emmanuelle Carry on England Carry on Matron

Censoring the 1970s

Carry on at Your Convenience Carry on Henry Carry on Girls Carry on Behind Charge of the Light Brigade Close Encounters Come Play with Me Conduct Unbecoming Confessions from a Holiday Camp Confessions of a Pop performer Confessions of a Window Cleaner Confessions from the David Galaxy Affair Cool it Carol Countess Dracula Dad’s Army Day of the Jackal Death Line Death on the Nile Death Wish Demons of the Mind The Devils Diamonds are Forever Die Screaming Marianne Dirty Harry Don’t Look Now Dracula AD1972 Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde Dr Phibes Rides Again The Duellists The Elephant Man Emmanuelle Enter the Dragon Entertaining Mr Sloane Eskimo Nell The Exorcist The Europeans Family Life Four Dimensions of Greta The First Great Train Robbery Frenzy Friday the 13th

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154

Bibliography

Frightmare Get Carter The Go-Between The Godfather Gold Grease Groupie Girl Hands of the Ripper House of Mortal Sin House of Whipcord If… I, Monster Jaws Jesus Christ Superstar Jubilee Killers Moon The Killing of Sister George Klute Lady Caroline Lamb Language of Love Last Tango in Paris Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires Let’s Get Laid Life of Brian The Likely Lads Lisztomania Little Big Man Live and Let Die Lock up your Daughters The Long Good Friday Love Variations Love thy Neighbour Mahler The Man who fell to Earth The Man who would be King McVicar The Medusa Touch Moonraker Monty Python and the Holy Grail The Music Lovers My Lover, My Son

Censoring the 1970s

Naughty! A Nice Girl Like Me Nine Ages of Nakedness The Oblong Box Lucky Man! Oh Calcutta! Oh What a Lovely War! The Omen One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest On the Buses Outer Touch People that Time Forgot Percy Performance The Pink Panther Strikes Again The Poseidon Adventure Pressure Quadrophenia Quatermass Conclusion Revenge of the Pink Panther Riddle of the Sands Rocky The Rocky Horror Picture Show The Romantic Englishwoman Royal Flash Ryan’s Daughter Satanic Rites of Dracula Scorpio Scum Sebastianne Shaft Shout at the Devil Sleuth Soldier Blue The Spy who Loved Me Stardust Star Wars Steptoe and Son The Sting Straw Dogs The Stud

155

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Bibliography

Superman Sweeney! Tales from the Crypt The Squeeze Take a Girl Like You That’ll be the Day Three into Two wont go Tommy Tora! Tora! Tora! A Touch of Love The Towering Inferno Trash Twins of Evil Up Pompeii Up the Chastity Belt Valentino Vampire Circus The Vampire Lovers Villain The Virgin Soldiers Warlords of Atlantis The Wicker Man The Wife Swappers Witchfinder General Women in Love The World is Full of Married Men Young Winston Zardoz Zeta One