Cath
come home (Derek Paget)
ÔCathy Come HomeÕ and ÔAccuracyÕ in
British Television Drama
When, back in 1971, the original Theatre
Quarterly devoted one of its earliest issues (TQ6,
1972) to television drama, the strongest reactions
were to remarks by Tony Garnett concerning the recently
developed form already being dubbed documentary drama.
Subsequent issues featured both an attack on the form
from Paul Ableman, and a vigorous defence from its
leading practitioner, Jeremy Sandford, author of the
seminal Cathy Come Home (1966). As this article
bears witness, the debate still rages, and here its
leading historian, Derek Paget Ñ author of True
Stories: Documentary Drama on Radio, Stage, and Television (Manchester
University Press, 1990) Ñ explores some of the ways
in which myth has contributed as much as analysis to
the argument. He goes back to contemporary documentation
to explore the nature of the BBCÕs own sometimes timorous
attitude to the creature it had spawned, its context
within the developing aesthetics and technology of
television drama, the reactions of politicians and
local government agencies Ñ and the way in which repeat
transmissions were (and were not) hedged about with
paranoia.
IN The New Priesthood, Joan Bakewell
and Nicholas Garnham remark: ÔThe feeling is strong that
television drama is in retreat from the place it once
held in the exchange of contemporary ideas." 1 Odd
to think this was written in 1970, when such sentiments
are now so commonplace. Ineluctable change in the culture
of the broadcasting industry has generated widespread
pessimism about television dramaÕs future potential to
permit the nation (even if such a thing can be said to
exist any longer) publicly to debate important issues
with itself.
Cathy Come Home (1966) has often
been held up as a model of what can be achieved. In 1967
T. C. Worsley described Jeremy SandfordÕs play as Ôa
kind of landmark in televisionÕ, and as recently as 1997
former Channel 4 Head of Drama Peter Ansorge declared: ÔCathy .
. . changed the face of television drama.Õ2 Its
cultural importance is as great for British television,
perhaps, as the 1977 Alex Haley series Roots is
for American. Both dramas Ôbased on factÕ represented
popular cultural acknowledgements of continuing social
cruxes (the inability of British society to deal with
its Ôhouseless poorÕ, as the Victorians called them;
the problem of race in American society). And both have
been subject to doubt and denial, their documentary provenance
complicating their reception histories. In both cultures,
too, there has been widespread suspicion generally about
documentary forms in drama. 3
The purpose of this article is to consider
doubts cast on Cathy Come Home by an influential
book Ñ Irene ShubikÕs 1975 Play for Today: the Evolution
of Television Drama. But I want also to argue more
generally that it is not so much Ôthe factsÕ as their contestation which
gives this veteran piece of television drama such a purchase
on continuing social and cultural discourse. Hence the
scare quotes around ÔaccuracyÕ in my title, for debate
over whether Cathy Come Home is (or, more accurately,
was) true to the facts on the UKÕs homelessness problem
of the 1960s is more about the fight for ideas in the
public sphere than anything else. As Carl Plantinga has
argued recently, the address of the documentary play
to its audience is one of Ôassertive analogyÕ to events
in the real world. Television tends to make many highly
public assertions. In rhetorical terms, assertion invites
refutation; such was the case with Cathy Come Home.4
The initial impact of Cathy Come Home can
be gauged from the fact that the Sunday Times television
critic Maurice Wiggin recognized that conventional reviewing
methods were unequal to the circumstances of the first
transmission, on 16 November 1966. His review, ÔThe Grace
to Feel a Pang of PityÕ (20 November 1966), took the
form of a quasi-morality play in which two characters ÑÔBetter
SelfÕ and ÔWorse SelfÕ Ñ debated the content, form, and
implications of Cathy.
ÔBetter SelfÕ (the Wigginian superego)
was stung by the teleplayÕs accusatory address. ÔB.S.Õ responded
with ringing eloquence:
ÔAnything that jerks the smug oblivious
multitude into passionate awareness of the horrors that
lie below the bland surface of the affluent society must
be welcomed and applauded.Õ WigginÕs intellectually sceptical ÔWorse
SelfÕ responded acidly to this voice of social conscience Ñ Ôa
nice string of emotive adjectivesÕ Ñ but then raised
questions of enduring importance:
All right, if you think
the end justifies the means. Though IÕm not sure what
the end is, unless you and all the other affected parties
are going to rush out to dig foundations. Or vote Communist.
A Moral Play for New Times
These remarks have a subtext:
can a television drama, however ÔeffectiveÕ in terms
of real-time response, produce socially significant affects through
its effects? Does the informative power of documentary
enhance or throw into doubt the affective drama? The
scepticism of WigginÕs ÔWorse SellÕ has dogged the history
not only of one of British televisionÕs most famous plays
but also of the mixed form in general.
ÔBetter SelfÕ pleads (in direct
quotation of one of the filmÕs closing captions): ÔYou
canÕt deny it was based on facts. All the terrible things
that happened to Cathy and Reg in the play actually happened
in Britain in the last eighteen months.Õ ÔW. S.Õ agrees Ñ ÔYet
and that is ghastly Ñ but then points to an apparent
Achilles heel:
But, in fact, they happened
to several couples. In the play, as you call it, they
were all hung on to Cathy and Reg, with a cumulative
relentlessness not even life could match, in order to
produce an effect and secure a response.
This sense that the factual
(documentary) lily was being impossibly gilded in the
(dramatic) work, and that this somehow devalues the film
as a social statement, is part of a cloud of doubt which
to this day hangs over mixed-form television drama.
Jeremy Sandford turned to
documentary drama having failed to get the subject of
homelessness onto the screen by documentary means:
I tried to quintessentialize
[the subject) dramatically. Cathy is Everywoman, Everymother,
a woman who just thinks that children are GodÕs gift
coming up against state machinery, which result in
the decimation of her family. Her natural instincts
and desires are destroyed by the institutionalized
violence of a state.
Today, he defends his creation
from the ÔWorse SelfÕ view, claiming that CathyÕs was
a Ôfar from untypical worst case scenarioÕ and that her
story was reinforced by the facts as he found them.5
His playÕs dramatic structure
mirrors the inexorability of Everyman, and this,
as he observes, is not the conventional structure of
modern television drama: ÔThere is no narrative graph
of highs and lows in Cathy Come Home Ñ the kind
of thing script editors always look for these days Ñ it
is downward all the way.Õ The film actually divides
quite symmetrically into three ÔactsÕ which en-act CathyÕs
decline, fall, and descent into social hell.6
Just as it was the rhetorical
purpose of Everyman to be a memento mori, convincing
its audience of the rightness of Christian faith in the
face of death, so it was the left-inclining rhetorical
purpose of Cathy Conic Home to remind a society
of its moral responsibility to less fortunate citizens.
Sandford believes that punitive categorization of the
poor in British society has its roots in the Victorian
and earlier capitalist distinctions between those who
were ÔdeservingÕ and ÔundeservingÕ:
Labelling people as feckless
nÕer-do-wells -MayhewÕs ÔThose Who Will Not WorkÕ Ñ is
a very easy way for any society to shrug off responsibility
for its poorer members.7
For Loach and Garnett, too,
the purpose of the film was to oppose such reductive
bourgeois categorizations. In 1966, Garnett thus told
an interviewer:
There are those who, for
various reasons, want to preserve the social, cultural,
and political status quo. But there are always people Ñ and
they exist in the arts as much as elsewhere Ñ who want
to question, who want change, who want things to be
discussed. I know which group I am in.
For Ken Loach, meanwhile,
the film is Ômore like a report on homelessness in which
various things which happened to homeless families were
condensed into a narrativeÕ. He had Ôthe intention of
saying to people who were watching on television that
this is actually happening in your name, and we really
have to stop and deal with it.Õ
Cathy Come Home must
be seen first and foremost as a social utterance at
a pivotal time of change, which (to paraphrase Plantinga)
asserts the analogous circumstances of its fictional
couple to real social conditions Ñ in order to change
those conditions. This oppositional voice demanding change,
appealing and accusing, is recognizably the voice of
WigginÕs socially concerned ÔBetter SelfÕ writ large.
As the radical 1960s offered challenges to the previous
certainties of a society reconfiguring in the post-war
period, this voice of social conscience had a strong
left-wing inflection.
Assessing the Resonance
Cathy Come HomeÕs effects,
or lack of them, are easy to assert, difficult to prove
(as is always the case with the arts). No one can doubt
the continued presence of the poor and the homeless,
however much one claims our society is Ôpost-industriallyÕ or Ôpostmodern-lyÕ eclectic,
various, and diverse. All concerned in the making of Cathy
Come Home would probably agree with Brecht that the
breeder of povertyÑcapitalism itselfÑ is still an animal
energetically reproducing itself.9 All, in
their very different ways, are still pushing against
the seemingly gravitational pull of New Model (multinational,
third-phase) Capitalism. All look back in sadness at
the thought that, famous as it is, their workÕs social
effects were limited. In 1993, Loach thus called Cathy Ôan "Oh
dear" programmeÕ; in 1994, he talked of Ôhaving
our heads pattedÕ over it. He has bemoaned the fact that
it had become acceptable to the political Right.Õ
But this television play did
resonate in wider contemporary social debates: indeed,
it fired them. In Birmingham on Monday 28 November 1966,
to take a local example, a public discussion took place
as a direct consequence of Cathy Come HomeÕs transmission
just twelve days before. Sandford and Loach discussed
homelessness with Birmingham City councillors, who were
incensed that their city had appeared in such an unfavourable
light in the film." Policy in respect of the conditions
in the cityÕs hostels for the homeless changed almost
immediately; the in-human separation of man and wife Ñ which
so ironically flew in the face of post-war societyÕs
alleged commitment to what have become known as Ôfamily
valuesÕ Ñ ceased in Birmingham.
The film also had its effects
on the Labour Government of 1966. Earlier on the same
day, 28 November, a special screening of the film was
arranged for the Minister of Housing and Local Government,
Anthony Greenwood, his Parliamentary Private Secretary,
Wayland Young, and three permanent officials at the Ministry
of Housing. Afterwards, Tony Garnett wrote a memo to
his bosses at the BBC (1 December 1966) noting: ÔWe were
not challenged at any point either on our intentions
in making the film or our facts.Õ 12
The politicians were unhappy
about the tone of the final statistical captions, and
said so; but they made no direct attempt to challenge
or remove them. Subsequently, Greenwood praised the play
in speeches outside the House of Commons, and discussed
it on Late Night Line-Lip after its third transmission
in 1968. Attempts were made by GreenwoodÕs ministry to
address some of the issues raised by the film during
the following two years. The Labour Government embarked
on an ambitious building programme, and produced a White
Paper urging councils to end separation of parents and
children of the kind seen at the end of Cathy. Finally,
of course, there was the foundation of the housing charity
organization Shelter Ñ an event Sandford today calls Ôa
wonderful case of synchronicityÕ.13
But, as Martin Banham pointed
out in 1980, the social power of SandfordÕs work went
beyond its television transmissions. Sandford exploited
the cultural space created by his television dramas in
two ways Ñthrough other, associated, writings; and through
activism. As Banham remarks: ÔThe novel of Cathy Come
Home, with its appendixes, is a necessary companion
to the play.Õ This was also true of Edna, the Inebriate
Woman, and of other work, notably his writing about
gypsies." 14
Secondly, Sandford promoted
causes he believed in through print and television journalism,
lecture tours, media discussions, and various campaigns
(often in collaboration with charitable groups like Shelter
and the Cyrenians, and through the gypsy organizations
with whom he still works). He tried consistently to open
up the factual base of his work to an extended audience
and to provoke informed public discussion. In this regard, Cathy
Come Home the drama is the visible part of a research
iceberg, and the factual mass below the surface (which
gave the drama its weight) was often explored outside
the realm of television.
The degree of social turbulence
around and beyond the transmission of a television play
cannot and should not be discounted. Continuing ripples
lie behind the re-tellings of CathyÕs story which occurs
not simply in repeat transmissions (though the frequency
of these is remarkable enough) and in film/television
courses in the academy, but also in the presence in the
culture of Ôwhat might be termed ÔCathy as Reference
PointÕ. 15
Newspaper leader-writers long
beyond the initial furore have thus invoked the figure
of Cathy to draw attention to the ongoing shame of homelessness.
Shelter itself has not only used the film for promotional
purposes throughout its history but has also frequently
used it in advertisements (especially stills of Carol
WhiteÕs troubled face in role as Cathy). Those who were
(and are still) affected by it find SandfordÕs play Ôtrue
in the way of beliefÕ, as philosophers would say are
prepared, in engaging with the drama, to trust the facts
(and to have the one reinforce the other) because they
believe social justice continues to be less than perfect.
So the analogies asserted
in Cathy Come Home enable a Ôbearing witnessÕ to
occur in reception. This is by far the majority experience
of watching the film, as was borne out in the BBCÕs own
audience research at first and second transmission.16 But
assertions also provoke denial. This is an inevitable
byproduct of the rhetorical strategy, which successfully
combines the force of the document with the feeling of
the drama. Belief and doubt go together in a philosophical
binary stretching back to Everyman and beyond.
In Denial
Doubts about the play in its
own time were generated from three main sources, the
first and most obvious being political and cultural conservatism.
Opposed to the ideas of Loach, Garnett, and Sandford;
the Right thus developed the arguments of WigginÕs ÔWorse
SelfÕ.17 They found Cathy Come Home Ônot
true in the way of beliefÕ, and made counter-assertions:
if the things which ÔhappenedÕ in the play really happened
at all, then they did not happen to one couple as depicted;
if ÔlicenceÕ was taken with plot construction, licence
may be presumed to have been taken elsewhere. In a drama
of such evident darkness and light, this group questioned
the absence of shades of grey in the figures of authority
depicted.
Such sceptical, sometimes
angry voices could be heard in 1966 in the meeting at
Birmingham:
The opening speaker, Alderman Dr. Louis Glass, Conservative
Housing Management Committee chairman, attacked Mr. Jeremy
Sandford, the playÕs author, and Mr. Kenneth Loach, the director,
both later speakers, for Ôsneaking into a Birmingham hostel
to get information for their play.Õ ... [He] said the play
had smacked in the face every agency dealing with the homeless. 18
Glass used two classic rhetorical
tactics: firstly (as above), he cast doubt on the programme-makersÕ integrity
at the level of the facts, claiming that they used underhand
methods (denied by Sandford). This argument asks, ÔHow
can you possibly trust these people when you know what
they get up to?Õ Secondly, he claimed that improvements
were in hand anyway (to demonstrate the essential redundancy
of any mere drama lying to produce social change). This
argument says, ÔLeave these things to the experts - trust
us, not the entertainers.Õ The separation of husbands
and wives would, Glass stated, end Ôwithin two yearsÕ.
(This could stand, perhaps, as a working definition of Ôa
politicianÕs promiseÕ.)
Such a provocative and challenging
account of a social problem could hardly expect to win
widespread support from those who were, like Alderman
Glass, involved at a local, operational level. Charged
with policies, agencies, and their organization, these
people naturally made a counter-challenge to the filmÕs
case. Many reviewers of the time commented on the unfavourable
light in which social workers are seen in Cathy Come
Home; those speaking for institutions responsible
for such individuals could, perhaps, only refute the
filmÕs strong assertions: Tony Garnett acknowledges:
We were blatantly propagandist
in Cathy Come Home, of course we were! There was a
big attack on everything in the show, but we were used
to that. What the hostile press will always do is try
to find you out on one or two small factual errors,
then say the whole thingÕs rubbish. This happened on
Days of Hope. I think we got one of the First World
War uniforms wrong! 19
So there was a second level
of doubt cast on the film from organizations in society
responsible for dealing with the problems raised in Cathy
Come Home, organizations not inherently right-wing
but committed to the status quo by the very nature
of their vested interests. These organizations included
the Local Government Information Office and the Institute
of Housing Managers, both of which became vocal opponents
of the play, as I discuss below.20
Next, as Julian Petley has
argued, opposition as well as support came from within
the broadcasting institution itself: so the beleaguered
social authorities and the right-wing press which constituted
the filmÕs natural antagonists were supported within
the BBC itself by, for example, Grace Wyndham Goldie,
one of the BBC mandarin class and former Head of BBC
Television Talks and Current Affairs. In two newspaper
articles in early 1967, she attacked the documentary
drama form, worried that what was received as
factual in current affairs was ambiguous in drama. Cathy
Come Home was, in her view, Ôan early example of
a new and dangerous trend in television dramaÕ.21
Institutional Opposition
Sandford remarks: ÔWhen brave
ideas hit an institution, its first instinct is survivalÕ22 To
illustrate this, Petley refers to an unsigned piece included
in the ÔLetters to the EditorÕ section of the Radio
Times (16 January 1969). The articleÕs phrase, Ôkeeping
faith with the viewerÕ, and its suggestion that some
drama writers and producers were mixing fact with fiction
to dangerous levels, replicate the Wyndham Goldie line,
and appear to be from her kind of stratum of management.
Like her, the writers worried away at the possibility
of the Ôconfused viewerÕ, and noted that uncertainty
about its facts was Ôa criticism which was made of Cathy
Come Home... in a recent edition of TalkbackÕ.
Garnett, Loach, and others
replied furiously on 13 February in their own letter
to the editor, noting that attacks on dramatic form are
almost always covert attacks on political content. This
was as true for documentary drama then as it is today.
Senior Granada executive Ian McBride remarked to me recently
talking of the 1980Ñ90 Granada drama-documentaries: ÔNobody
criticized the form when it dealt with shipyards in Gdansk!Õ24 In
1969 Loach et al. warned of a creeping censorship
within the apparently liberal BBC of the 1960s:
For many people who work
in television [the article] is also very disturbing.
Because beneath its bland, sweet reasonableness, which
is the house style of BBC bureaucracy there is a warning
you refuse to take our gentlemanly hints, we shall
censor or ban any of your programmes which deal in
social and political attitudes not acceptable to us.25
Tony Garnett pays tribute
today to Sydney NewmanÕs ability to make creative space
for his programme-makers despite the pressure from higher
up the executive chain. Newman was Ôan astute political
animalÕ, he says, bridge between [programme makers] and
the hierarchyÕ.26 In the contemporary period
it is dear that the BBC encouraged innovative creative
workers on board on the on hand, but policed their activities
carefully or the other.
BBC mandarins were keen to
win hearts and minds at this difficult time of liberalization,
but held the line when necessary The test case was not
the documentary drama Cathy Come Home, but the
quasi-documentary The War Game, which was banned
in 1965 and remained untransmitted until 1985. The institutionÕs
layers of self-protection may be gauged from director
Peter WatkinsÕs claim that the BBC showed his film clandestinely
to its work-force to try to ensure a common public front
following the decision to ban. Because the BBC hierarchy
needed its staff to agree that the film was dangerous,
he alleges, they arranged closed-doors screenings. The
film was sent to BBC establishments around the country
(with the ludicrous coven-name of ÔThe Bicycle FilmÕ)
so that the employees could understand their bossesÕ decision. 27
This story resonates interestingly
with SandfordÕs and GarnettÕs claims about selling Cathy
Come Home within the BBC as Ôa knockabout family
comedyÕ. Sandford has said that he and Garnett agreed
initially Ôto keep the subject of the play a secret and
for the moment to give it a different titleÕ.28 This
is borne out by BBC memos. A month before transmission,
Garnett was describing Cathy to Gerald Savory
Head of Plays and Drama, as Ôa love storyÕ (BBC memo,
26 October 1966). Garnett says today: ÔI only let them
[the executives] see it after the Radio Times deadline.
If it was going to be banned, I wanted it to be a public
banning.Õ In his memo of 22 August 1966 he had thus temporized
with Michael Peacock, Controller of BBC 1: ÔIf the Controller
insists, he may see a rough-cut version of Cathy Come
Home, but I would prefer to go on working at it with
my Director until it is finished.Õ Loach/GarnettÕs passion
for film rather than tape aided and abetted this strategic
prevarication.29
In the BBC, there were supporters
and opponents, friends and enemies of groundbreaking
work and of those making it. John McGrath calls the informal
meetings held in the BBC canteen and bar Ôthe real training
groundÕ of the period. Every large organization has this Ôcanteen
cultureÕ, and there was also opposition to the radical
BBC group there. Not everyone felt the same about revolutionizing
society; the 1960s was, in McGrathÕs view, Ôan Age of
Backwardness rather than a Golden AgeÕ. Cathy Come
Home was made in such a climate Ñ Ôdespite the powers
that be rather than because of themÕ, according to Sandford. 30
Academic Doubts
In academic writing, the politics
of Cathy Come Home politics have been challenged
more for insufficient radicalism than the reverse, but
some of the debate about form has transferred from the
wider culture. Between 1970 and 1985 questions about
the progressivenessÕ of television drama, rooted mainly
in Marxist cultural theory, emanated from the periodical Screen, and
were part of the paradigm-defining debates of academic
Media Studies. In the early 1970s, Theatre Quarterly ran
a series of articles on television drama, exploring its
capacity for provoking political debate and social change.
Central here was an exchange between Paul Able-man and
Sandford himself.31
Ableman, it is sometimes forgotten,
compared two contemporary programmes and characterized
them as ÔTwo Kinds of TruthÕ (his articleÕs sub-title).
Here, Edna, the inebriate Woman, SandfordÕs second
major documentary drama, was compared with Geoffrey SchwartzÕs
long-forgotten Sheila, the Transvestite, which
Ableman labelled Ôan authentic documentaryÕ. He argued
that the documentary drama form as practised by Sandford
and his collaborators was deeply suspicious in respect
of facts and information, deeply low-brow in respect
of art. His most telling jibe was that its values were
those of Ôa huge commercialÕ, and were (therefore) ÔinartisticÕ.
AblemanÕs use of words like ÔforgeryÕ and ÔcounterfeitÕ suggest
a suspicion of the filmÕs authenticity amounting to doubt.
Taking the line that provocation is better than art in
a time of crisis, Sandford countered: ÔDramatized documentary
can be a more powerful social medium than the play or
the documentary Ñ or, at any rate, thatÕs my experience
of it.Õ
What emerged ultimately from
the Theatre Quarterly debate was qualified assent
for the documentary drama as a form, because it was capable
of Ôexposing social evils and indicating paths of rectificationÕ (Ableman),
of ÔcrusadingÕ (Sandford).32 Within the later Screen debate,
qualification was defined around John CaughieÕs appreciation
of the radical possibilities of form offered by John
McGrathÕs 1974 ÔPlay for TodayÕ treatment of his stage
play, The Cheviot, the Stag, and the Black, Black
Oil. But behind any qualified assent lurked potentially
disabling doubts about the status of the fad in the ad,
the kinds of act by which facts came alive, and the ethical
legitimacy of the documentary drama.
Irene Shubik on ÔCathyÕ
Doubts were reinforced by
a book written by a former BBC producer, Irene Shubik,
who could have had little idea of the effects it would
have on the academic community as the arguments about
documentary drama developed over a period of twenty years.
What Shubik says about Cathy Come Home in her
1975 book runs like a thread through academic acccounts,
my own included.
The book became important
because it represented an early insight into the professional,
industrial world of television prodution. It remains
an invaluable resource, with its comprehensive list of ÔWednesday
PlaysÕ and ÔPlays for TodayÕ (p. 60Ñ74) and its authoritative
account of the work of a producer in a formative period
of British television history. Written by a producer
with an impressive record, the book is not about Cathy
Come Home at all, nor is it an academic book; it
is a memoir of a career at its mid-point. 33
In 1971 Shubik had produced
SandfordÕs second documentary drama, Edna, the Inebriate
Woman. The making of this film left a legacy of disagreement
between its writer and producer which was exacerbated
by her published remarks about SandfordÕs earlier play.
She refers to Cathy Come Home and its makers on
several occasions in her book. She is aware of the playÕs
relatively untroubled historical provenance in the work
of radio ÔFeaturesÕ and the BBC Television Ôdramatized
documentaryÕ of the 1950s:
The technique of productionÉ.
Was innovatory in that actors were sometimes rehearsed
and then set down in outside locations and filmed in
true-life backgrounds against ordinary people.35
She acknowledges Cathy
Come Home as a ÔfamousÕ play (p. 124) Ñ one which
had been Ôfilmed with enormous success by Ken Loach
and Tony GamettÕ (p. 129) - and she mentions approvingly
its large audience figures (p. 180). But she also remarks
(p. 79) that the social focus of plays like Up the
Junction and Cathy Come Home led to a Ôschizoid
positionÕ:
On the one hand, as originally
intended by Sydney [Newman, ÔThe Wednesday PlayÕ] was
to have a mass audience appeal. At the same time the
critics were evaluating it on criteria more suitable
to Sunday nights at the Royal Court Theatre... . On
the other hand, the audience, if they did get such
a play, howled that they wanted a good old-fashioned
story with a beginning, middle, and end in which people
didnÕt live in permanent squalor, swearing at each
other and fornicating.
And she links this double-bind
specifically to Cathy:
In the aftermath of Cathy
Come Home, almost every play that was not centred on
a social problem was greeted with the question ÔWhere
have the great days of social conscience gone?Õ and
every play which was in that genre was compared unfavourably
with it.
The difficulty of being a
very active producer on a series which was distorted
(as one can infer from this remark) by one-off hits like Cathy is
worth noting. While Shubik produced 25 ÔWednesday PlaysÕ between
1967 and 1970, Tony Garnett produced 11 in a comparable
period (1966Ñ1969). ÔGarnettÕ, she remarks (p. 76), Ôhad
managed to get himself into that most enviable position
of any producer; that of doing only a very few productions
a year.Õ Not only that, he had managed to work more or
less exclusively on film, an expensive option not universally
available to other BBC producers and one which caused
her problems on Edna. 36
Doubts about the Form
Shubik is equivocal, too,
about the documentary drama form. While acknowledging
that her own biggest successes had been with Ôthe straightforward
documentary-type subjectÕ (p. 179), she notes aesthetic
limitations in the form: ÔThe bulk of television writing
is inevitably dramatized journalismÕ (p. 89). The majority
of television writers are described as Ôhalf observers,
half creatorsÕ (p.105). Singling out David Mercer, Clive
Exton, and David Rudkin as writers with Ôspecial visionÕ,
she proceeds to argue:
Had any of these three
authors written Cathy, Come Home, or Edna, the Inebriate
Woman, for instance, their portrayal of the inner mental
torture of Cathy and Edna might well have made audiences
so uncomfortable as to have forced them to turn off.
As Martin Banham has pointed
out, these comments Ômake assumptions about dramatic
formÕ which probably tell us more about ShubikÕs preferences
in drama than about anything else.37
Her description of SandfordÕs
research methods as ÔemotionalÕ and ÔimpressionisticÕ (p.
99, 125Ñ6) has rankled with him ever since he first became
aware of it. Even his marvelously vivid picture of Dickensian
low-life in modem timesÕ (p. 125) Ñ meant, Shubik says,
as a compliment Ñ was received badly, especially when
his research methods are compared directly with Tony
ParkerÕs, which are variously characterized as ÔmeticulousÕ (p.
99), ÔimpartialÕ (p. 125), and ÔpainstakingÕ (p. 126).
Her own preferences are for ÔstructureÕ and ÔnaturalnessÕ in
drama, which she links to Tony ParkerÕs A Life is
Forever of 1972 (p. 102Ñ3):
Parker had, to my mind,
shown a great step forward as a playwright in his own
right rather than a documentary journalist. The invented
dialogue was far more natural than in any of the previous
plays and the situations seemed to arise more naturally
from character, as opposed to being contrived by the
author for expository or didactic reasons.
Sandford, by contrast, is Ôstrong
on dialogue and weak on structureÕ (p. 106). These
views are, perhaps, inevitable if one takes the view
that the best drama is character-driven and structured
in terms of plot, but also ÔnaturalÕ (note the repetition
of this word). Shubik denies that she intended this,
but academic writers have seen her privileging ÔimpartialÕ and ÔobjectiveÕ research, ÔnaturalÕ dialogue,
characterization and plot structure. 38
But it is the more direct
accusations about Cathy Come Home which have been
the main focus of academic attention. The first, most
important point is about factual accuracy. It is worth
quoting at length, from page 126 of ShubikÕs book:
After Cathy Come Home was
screened, there were many protests about the inaccuracy
of its statistics about the homeless and its portrait
of the authorities. On its second showing, two million
council members and officials were asked to watch and
see how many mistakes they could find in it. Mr. Laurence
Evans of the Local Government Office said, ÔThis play
is full of blunders and omissions.Õ Another official
complained of factual inaccuracies and another of the
deliberate misrepresentation of officers of a public
authority as ÔgangstersÕ, especially in the scene where
the children are wrenched from Cathy on a station platform.
On its second showing, most of the background comments
giving statistics were, in fact, omitted because of
doubts about accuracy.
Today, she observes that what
she wrote was partly a reflection of her anxiety about Edna:
My only interest in the
inaccuracies was to make sure we did not lay ourselves
open to the same accusation on Edna as had been made
about Cathy. .I was not out to criticize the Cathy
team.39
In the same letter, she says: ÔAs
to the previous history of Cathy, since I had
nothing to do with it I go by what I was told by Kotcheff,
Newman and LukeÕ (also p. 128-9). ÔThere is no doubtÕ she
says (p. 126) Ôthat Cathy would have had much
less impact had a more evenly balanced picture been painted.Õ
ShubikÕs second point concerns
perceived disturbances to the balance of the argument
following from the casting of Carol White as Cathy. She
notes (p. 132) that Ôthere were criticisms that the heroine
of the play was much more glamorous than her real-life
counterpart would ever have beenÕ, and cites a Granta review
which suggested that a Ôfoulmouthed working-class scrubberÕ might
have been both more realistic and less sympathetic. SandfordÕs
reaction today is to make the counter-accusation that
this view reeks of Ôclassist stereotypingÕ. 40
Points about inaccuracy and
balance are used in discussions of Cathy Come Home
by Swallow (1976); Banham (1980); Paget (1990); Corner
(1996); and Petley (1997). 41To deal with
the last point first: Banham establishes that contemporary
reviewers (Give James, for example) did indeed question
Cathy! Carol WhiteÕs good looks. In 1990, I alleged an
element of Ôsixties sexism in casting and performance. 42 Puffing
a blonde Ôdolly birdÕ at the centre of a drama without
real thought about the wider sexual politics was, I suggested,
par for the course in the 1960s.
A pre-transmission piece in
the London Evening News of 8 November 1966 demonstrates
that this was not so far wrong. A photograph of White
at her most glamorous appears under the large-print legend: ÔIf
you have the IN-look youÕre half-way homeÕ, and reviewers
at the time noted WhiteÕs physical resemblance to Julie
Christie. 43 I used ideas about Cathy-the-factual-composite
and Cathy-the-too-attractive to justify a revisionist
view of the film, which claimed that its Ôcultural tourismÕ ultimately
released cultural pressure and mitigated social tension.
Sandford acknowledged in a
letter that Cathy the character was Ôa pre-feminist constructÕ,
but chided me for writing with the political correctness
of hindsight. 44 I looked again at what I
had written, and what struck me was that I had found
the notion originally in a book (ShubikÕs) which cast
general as well as particular doubt on Cathy Come
Home. The force of her apparent scepticism had reinforced
my own epistemological and representational doubts.
Cuts and ÔCathyÕ
But the material about factual
inaccuracy and enforced cuts has been more frequently
discussed. In his influential 1996 book The Art of
Record, for example, John Corner quotes in full ShubikÕs
paragraph on the excision of statistics from Cathy
Come Home, italicizing the key sentence: ÔOn its
second showing, most of the background comments giving
statistics were, in fact, omitted because of doubt [sic] about
accuracy.Õ He uses Shubik to underline the perfectly
valid point that the film as a Ôknowledge deviceÕ was Ôcontroversial
in a number of waysÕ, and that Ôa stronger referential
base than most playsÕ made Cathy Come Home at
once more authoritative and more vulnerable. ÔIts use
of voiced-over data,Õ he writes, Ôinevitably carried
it into the more narrowly contentious area of controversial
current-affairs broadcasting.Õ
Julian Petley also paraphrases
and references Shubik to repeat the charge: ÔMuch of
the statistical material which makes the film so distinctive Éwas
omitted from the repeat, because pedantic and nit-picking
complaints had shaken whatever confidence the BBC had
in its accuracy.Õ This issue of the BBCÕs ÔconfidenceÕ is
crucial, and I believe Petley is correct in the general
thrust of his argument. But what is illustrated here
is the way academic concerns (about the status of a film
within its historical conjuncture; about its re-articulation
in the subsequent debates; and about ÔknowledgeÕ itself)
have developed from a point which is less authoritative
than it perhaps looks Ñ more about the contesting of
facts than the facts themselves.45
Irene Shubik, then, claims
the following: (1) that Laurence Evans Ôof the Local
Government OfficeÕ found Ôblunders and omissionsÕ in
the play; (2) that Ôanother officialÕ also found Ôfactual
inaccuraciesÕ; and (3) that the BBC bowed to accumulated
public pressure after November 1966, cutting material
for the playÕs second transmission in January 1967. Sandford
acknowledges that Evans and other officials challenged
his work, but refutes the assertion that there were changes
before second transmission. Tony Garnett, too, denies
that alterations were made:
There were no changes,
no changes at all Ñ there was no problem on repeat
transmissions. If weÕd changed it, IÕd say so and give
you the reasons why, but IÕve no recollection of changing
anything. I double-checked most of the statistics myself,
because I wasnÕt having my name on anything I couldnÕt
defend. 46
Neither deny that the play
was controversial, and that its accuracy was challenged;
what they unequivocally state is that it was never either
proved to be wrong or altered.
There was certainly newspaper
talk about accuracy, as journalists followed up official
displeasure with Cathy Come Home in the build-up
to the second transmission. Brian DeanÕs story in the Daily
Mail, ÔTwo Million Try to Trap CathyÕ (11 January
1967), is representative of these. He quotes Laurence
Evans almost word for word, as Shubik does, claiming
the play Ôis full of blunders and omissionsÕ. Henry Kay, Ôsecretary
of the Institute of Housing ManagersÕ, is quoted too: ÔWe
have had many complaints about factual inaccuracies since
the play was first shown.Õ
The Guardian also ran
the story, mentioning Evans and Kay, and had a headline Ô2M
Asked to Spot "Boobs" in TV PlayÕ. Shubik echoes
this material in her assertion (p. 126) that others complained
of Ôfactual inaccuracies.., and the deliberate misrepresentation
of officers of a public authorityÕ.
Evans had written an article
attacking Cathy for the Municipal and Public
Services Journal of 2 December 1966. This drew him,
briefly, to media attention before the second transmission
in newspapers and in the television magazine programmes Twenty-FourHours and The
Frost Programme. Shubik, then, reports what was common
media talk at this time, seeming to quote from newspapers
which are not referenced.47
What is more interesting is
the emphasis on negative rather than positive outcomes
of the dual transmission. The bulk of the reporting on
the play was positive. It was only as time went on that
Sandford became aware of the extent to which his work
had generated opposition:
Later I learned that quite
strong pressure had been put on the BBC to not stand
firm by the film but instead to admit that it was a
fabrication and this sort of thing was not going on
in Britain.
In 1972 a published interview
with Irene Shubik led to Sandford writing to The Guardian to
contradict claims about the writing of Cathy.49 By
the time of the Theatre Quarterly articles in
1973, he was aware enough of the attacks on his play
to present an account of his allegedly impressionistic
research methodology, to defend himself vigorously against
the idea that Carol White was unsuitable casting, and
to protest the purpose behind the composite character.
In the 1976 text of the teleplay,
Sandford publicly thanked Sydney Newman, Kenneth Adam,
and Hugh Greene (respectively the Head of Drama, Director
of Television, and Director-General of the BBC), noting
that: ÔStrong pressure was put on the establishment of
the BBC to recant, to "confess" that the picture
was inaccurate, to apologise.Õ The three senior managers,
he remarks, Ôstood by the filmÕ. 50
Sandford now understood the
extent to which such doubts in the canteen culture and
beyond had threatened to undermine his play. Martin BanhamÕs
research files show him still angrily refuting doubts
at the end of the decade. Researching this article, I
too have found him even now keen to try to prevent the
continuing re-circulation of what he calls a ÔmythÕ about
his playÕs status as a factual intervention in a social
problem.
ShubikÕs claim about second
transmission alterations to Cathy Come Home is
actually an unsupported assertion; it is this which subsequently
disturbed Sandford. Her book is, on the whole, careful
to reference quotation; the very page on which she alleges
changes to the second transmission of Cathy is
otherwise an example of good practice. She references
au article of 6 September 1970 in the Sunday Times about
Sandford (in which the research methodology for Edna is
outlined).
She also quotes and references an interview of 28 August
1967 by Robin Douglas wrote in WomanÕs Own. Yet the
three serious assertions she makes about Cathy further
up on the same page are not referenced. As I have demonstrated,
there was certainly evidence that some agencies had objected
to Cathy Come Home; there is evidence, too, that the
BBC found it difficult to contain this. It is the third allegation,
of enforced cuts, which is the most difficult to substantiate.
ShubikÕs files, fascinating
though they are, reveal nothing about the source of the
information. I believe the answer may lie in one newspaper
report in the BBC Written Archive at Caversham. In a Times review
of the second transmission of the play (12 January 1966),
Robert Wright Cooper noted:
It seemed even more convincing
and disturbing, I found, than it did last November;
the line between play and documentary was now more
dearly defined by the deletion of most of the spoken
background comments [my italics].
This, like the other examples,
is again very close to ShubikÕs words.51 The
review is actually enthusiastic about the play, as was
this criticÕs earlier review of 17 November 1966 (with
its Ôsearing indictment of housing conditionsÕ). It may
have been that Wright Cooper simply noticed the drama
more and the voice-overs less, second time around. What
is certain is that no other reviewer or writer, of this
or any other subsequent transmission, makes any claims
about cuts.
In addition, there are no
significant differences between the script used for filming
(code number ÔBBCI 2116/A369Õ) and the text published
by Marion Boyars. In the absence of further corroboration,
and noting the continued denials of its makers, one can
only conclude that the remarks in ShubikÕs book were
based on this review, on canteen culture doubts about Cathy, and
on her own concerns about Edna the Inebriate Woman.
Managing Dissenting Voices
Harry Whewell, writing in The
Guardian of 25 February 1967 after the publication
of the Pan novelization of Cathy, remarked:
The impact of Mr. Jeremy
SandfordÕs study of homelessness when put out on the
television was little short of phenomenal. And for
all that television is he most ephemeral of mediums,
some echoes of it are still buzzing around. Newspapers
still get letters about it and only this week a Cabinet
Minister was talking about Ôthe Cathies in our midstÕ.
The word Cathy for a homeless young mother shows signs
of passing into the language.
Remembering this period from
the perspective of the fourth transmission of the film
in 1976, Des Wilson, founding director of the housing
charity Shelter, estimated that the transmission of Cathy
Come Home in 1966 and 1967 Ôwas worth £500,000 to
Shelter alone, and that meant it directly helped to house
a lot of homeless familiesÕ. He defined the filmÕs basic
rhetorical address to the audience very effectively as Ôabove
all a scream of painÕ.
The scream continued, and continues, to be heard.52
If pre-transmission newspaper
talk had concentrated on opposition to the play, after
the second transmission intended changes in legislation
and the raising of public consciousness became the focus,
and the Evanses and Kays faded from the scene. The
Guardian of 13 January 1967 even noted that the Local
Government Information OfficeÕs Ôcomment on the play
has grown noticeably milderÕ. At the popular end of the
market, the Daily Express (12 January 1967) declared: ÔLoaded,
but it hurt like mad.Õ The Times of 14 January
1967 ran the sober headline ÔImportance of Cathy above
a piece which reflected on the seriousness of the homelessness
problem.
A leader in The Guardian of
13 January 1967, headlined ÔHousing for the HomelessÕ,
reflected on the film. To cap it all, the Evening
Standard of 12 January 1967 printed a cartoon by
Whitford in which one troubled civil servant said to
another: ÔThe trouble is that the only boobs I could
discover were ours.Õ The newspapers of the period suggest
that while dissenting voices could be heard, they were
decidedly in the minority.
Irene ShubikÕs belief that
alterations were made to Cathy Come Home may also
have been formed through a slippage in time. In interview,
she told me that she was actually not in the country
when Cathy was first transmitted. It seems to
me possible that the third of the filmÕs screenings,
on 13 November 1968, might have been in her mind when
she wrote her book. By this time, she was working with
Sandford, and had been discussing his work at a number
of levels for a year And for this third transmission,
the writer did a piece to camera which Shubik might well
have seen as relating to the issue of factual accuracy.
On 17 October 1968, the Head
of Plays at the BBC, Gerald Savory (ShubikÕs boss too),
wrote to Sandford:
My feeling is that the
statistics are no longer the same as two years ago
and that certain Councils (possibly because of your
play) have put their houses somewhat in order.
Savory suggested there should
be some form of pre-transmission announcement:
The BBC wishes to point
out that the programme you are about to see was first
transmitted two years ago, so that certain statistics
may no longer apply (be accurate). It is also known
that much (a good deal) has been (is being) done by
local councils to alleviate the problems presented
in this play.
Considering the fact that
the play by now two years old, this move was a responsible
one, but an institutional voice hedging its bets might
also be discerned here. The tone certainly contrasts
with a frosty letter from Savory to Sandford (also copied
to Shubik) on 27 November 1970, a year before the transmission
of Edna:
As you probably know, Edna
is proving impossibly expensive and I am unable to
give you any assurances about the future [i.e SandfordÕs
two other plays commissioned by Shubik] until I have
picked up the pieces.
Within this period, SandfordÕs
status within the BBC was slipping, even though Edna was
a great success.
Trimming Tendencies
In his reply to Savory of
26 October 1968, Sandford counters the claim of improvements
in housing conditions: ÔThe statistics have certainly
changed somewhat, but not I am sorry to say entirely
for the good.Õ While he acknowledges that the filmÕs
original journalistic edge had inevitably gone, he preferred
the following:
The BBC wishes to point
out that the programme you are about to see was first
transmitted two years ago, so that some of the statistics
quoted may now be out of date although still basically
correct.
Local Authorities and the
Government have attempted in various ways to alleviate
the problems presented in this play, and in certain
aspects of these there has been improvement.
In other ways, however,
it must be said that the problem has grown even more
acute.
The figure, given in Cathy
of 4,000 children taken into care each year for no
other reason than homelessness has now become 5,000.
The figure of 12,500 inhabitants
of Part II Accommodation (the ÔHomes for the HomelessÕ)
has now become 15,000.
The number of families
on the housing lists has grown in some cases, although
it would be right to say that the waiting lists have
got shorter in other cases. Actual conditions in Part
111 Accommodation have generally got better although
here again there have been exceptions.
ÔI haveÕ, he says, Ôdiscussed
[the enclosed draft] with Tony Garnet [sic] and
also Des Wilson of "Shelter".Õ The announcement
as recorded was spoken by Sandford post-transmission,
and was followed yet again by a studio discussion. Sandford
recalls that what he said was based on this letter; certainly,
it closely resembles his introductory piece in the Radio
Times (7 November 1968).
Cathy had just won
the Italia Prize for the BBC and its third transmission
was in part a celebration; but beneath the decorous earlier
exchange between Savory and Sandford one can detect a
trimming tendency on the part of the institution. By
1968, too, Irene Shubik was wrestling with pre-production
problems.
On another Sandford play,
under a regime (SavoryÕs own) which she has described
to me as Ôinfinitely more repressive than that of Sydney
[Newman]Õ.
If Cathy Come Home is
pre-eminently a social utterance Ôtrue in the way of
beliefÕ, part of its success may be measured in the force
of the counter-utterance provoked. The voice of the antagonist
to the Sandford/ Loach/Garnett protagonist can certainly
be discerned at several levels in the contemporary reception
of Cathy Come Home. However, I can find no evidence
to suggest that the BBC, whatever its internal doubts
about this Ôdocumentary dramaÕ, altered Cathy Come
Home between its first and second transmissions as
suggested by Irene Shubik.
Acknowledgements
I should like to thank Martin
Banham, Tony Garnett, Jeremy Sandford, and Irene Shubik
for interviews and assistance with this article.
Notes and References
1. Joan Bakewell and Nicholas
Garnham, The New Priesthood: British Television Today (London:
Allen Lane, 1970), p. 78.
2. 1. C Worsley, ÔLife
on the WingÕ, Financial Times, 8 March 1967; Peter
Ansorge. From Liverpool to Los Angdes: on Writing
for Theatre, Film, and Television (London: Faber and
Faber, 1997), p. 97.
3. Roots, of course,
has had more problems than Cathy Come Home. A
huge success in its time, it became the subject of a
plagiarism law suit in 1978, and Alex Haley has been
accused of over-reliance on oral testimony by academic
genealogists. See Pascoe Sawyers, ÔBlack and WhiteÕ, The
Guardian, 13 September 1997. See also Note 31 on
the British academic debate about documentary drama.
4. John Tulloch notes the
propensity of television forms to function publicly Ôlike
ancient oral mythÕ; see Television Drama: Agency,
Audience, and Myth (London: Routledge, 1990), p.
64. Carl R. Plantinga develops his idea of Ôassertive
analogyÕ in Rhetoric and Representation in Nonfiction
Film (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997),
p. 22. Like Tulloch, he also writes of the Ôbardic functionÕ of
modern societyÕs technological forms of representation
(p. 191).
5. Interviews with Jeremy
Sandford, 24 November 1995 and 8 September 1998.
6. In the text of Cathy
Come Home (London: Marion Boyars, 1976), ÔAct IÕ is
p. 21Ñ49; ÔAct 2Õ, p. 49Ñ93; ÔACt 3Õ, p. 94Ñ139.
These three ÔadsÕ meant that when the film, was shown
on Channel 4 in 1993, advertising breaks were simple
to place.
7. Interestingly, the director
Ted Kotcheff called Sandford Ôour contemporary MayhewÕ in
a piece written in May 1978 and originally intended for
the published text of Edna, the Inebriate Woman.
8. See Stewart LaneÕs interview
with Garnett, Morning Star, 16 November 1966; and John
Hill, ÔInterview with Ken LoachÕ, in George McKnight,
ed., Agent of Challenge and Defiance: the Films of
Ken Loach (Prowbridge: Flicks Books, 1997), p. 170.
See also Graham Fuller, ed., Loach on Loach (London:
Faber, 1998), p. 25.
9. See the Epilogue
to Bertolt BrechtÕs play The Resistible Rise of Arturo
Lii (1941).
10. See Maureen PileÕs
interview with Loach, Daily Telegraph, 27 March
1993; McKnight, op. cit., p. 172; G. Smith. ÔVoice
in the DarkÕ, Film Comment, No. 2 (March-April
1988), p. 44.
11. The ÔMrs. Alley sectionÕ of Cathy
Come Home (p. 49-68), was filmed in Birmingham.
In some of the ÔwildtrackÕ for these scenes there are
references to Birmingham slum areas, and Birmingham
accents can be dearly heard.
12 All quotations from BBC
documents are from material in the Cathy Come Home files
at the BBC Written Archive, Caversham.
13. See the Evening
Standard report on GreenwoodÕs speech at Enfield,
14 January 1967: Ô[He] said the BBC team did a wonderful
job in informing public opinion.Õ Nearly two years
later, a leader in The Guardian before the third
transmission of the film (ÔStill Homeless in BritainÕ,
13 November 1968), acknowledged the effects of ministerial
circulars of September 1967 and the Seebohm Report
on social services, but concluded that there was much
still to be done.
14. Martin Banham, ÔJeremy
SandfordÕ, in George W. Brandt, ed., British Television
Drama (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980),
p. 194.
15. Cathy has been
transmitted five times in all, on BBCI (three times),
BBC2 (once), and Channel 4.
16. The two ÔBBC Audience
Research ReportsÕ VR/66/629 (6/12/66) and VR/67/27 (1/2/67),
indicate high audience numbers and interest. They show
too Ôthat for every viewer who strenuously objected to
the.... repeat there were 60 whose reactions were enthusiasticÕ (VR/67/27).
17. This group, of course,
only partly corresponds to party political lines.
18. ÔAngry Scenes as Families
Heckle MeetingÕ, Birmingham Post, 29 November
1966.
19. Interview with Tony
Garnett, 7 November 1996.
20. Individual social workers
were prepared to speak up outside their institutions
in meetings, in letters to newspapers, and, of course,
on ÔwildtrackÕ in the film itself. There was at least
one such dissenting individual at the Birmingham meeting, Ôa
young home teacherÕ (unnamed but photographed), who described Ôconditions
in some of the homes she visitsÕ. In the 1960 radio programme Homeless
Families, Sandford had interviewed other dissenting
social workers, some of whose views are heard on ÔwildtrackÕ in Cathy
Come Home.
21. See Julian Petley, ÔFactual
Fictions and Fictional Fallacies: Ken LoachÕs Documentary
DramasÕ, in McKnight, op. cit. p. 28Ñ59. Grace Wyndham
GoldieÕs articles were both in the Sunday Telegraph: 13
February 1966 (ÔWhy They Made The War GameÕ), and
8 January 1967 (ÔStop Mixing Fact and FictionÕ). My quotation
comes from the later article.
22. Jeremy Sandford, lecture
delivered at University College, Worcester, 30 April
1996.
23. See Petley, op. cit.,
p. 38. Talkback was a BBC viewersÕ discussion
programme (1967Ñ71).
24. Interview with Ian
McBride, 15 March 1994.
25. Petley, op.cit., P.
39. Other co-signatories of the letter were Jim Allen,
Roy Battersby, Clive Goodwin, James MacTaggart, Roger
Smith, and Kenneth Trodd.
26. Phone conversation
of 12 June 1998, in which Garnett commented on an early
draft of this paper.
27. Peter Watkins, ÔThe
Future of TelevisionÕ, lecture at University of Bristol,
15 February 1996.
28. See Alan Rosenthal,
The New Documentary in Action: a Casebook in Film Making
(Berkeley; London: University of California Press, 1971),
p. 174.
29. Interview, 7 November
1996. One requisition slip at Caversham shows that Loach
used the 16 mm sound synch Eclair film camera which had
been the founding hardware for US Ôdirect cinemaÕ in
the early 1960s. Another requisition is for the tape
recorder used subsequently by Sandford for ÔwildtrackÕ.
30. John McGrath spoke
at the conference, ÔOn the Boundary: Turning Points in
TV Drama 1965-2000Õ, at the University of Reading, 4
April 1998. The Sandford quotation comes from his Worcester
lecture (see Note 22).
31. The articles in Theatre
Quarterly were: Roger Hudson, ÔTelevision in Britain:
Description and DissentÕ, II, No. 6 (1972), p. 18Ñ25;
Paul Ableman, ÔEdna and Sheila: Two Kinds of TruthÕ,
II, No.7(1972), p. 45-8; and Jeremy Sandford, ÔEdna
and Cathy: Just Huge CommercialsÕ, ill, No.10(1973),
P. 79-85. For the debate about Ôprogressive dramaÕ and
documentary forms, see Andrew Goodwin and Paul
Kerr, BFI Dossier 19: Drama-Documentary (London:
British Film Institute, 1983). See also John CaughieÕs
seminal article ÔProgressive Television and Documentary
DramaÕ, Screen, XXI, No. 3, p. 9-33. For further
discussion, see my No Other Way to Tel? it: Dramadoc/Docudrama
on Television (Manchester; New York: Manchester
University Press, 1998).
32. Ableman, op. cit.,
P. 45~ 47; Sandford, 1973, op. cit., p. 80.
33. Irene Shubik produced
nearly 50 plays for ÔThe Wednesday PlayÕ and ÔPlay for
TodayÕ. She later originated both Rumpole of the Bailey and Jewel
in the Crown.
34. See p.30,37,64,76ÑSO,
89,99, 106, 124Ñ38 (this is Chapter 10, actually
about Edna, the inebriate Woman), 140,180.
35. On the provenance of this
methodology, see Arthur Swinson, Writing for Television
(London: Black, 1955); and Caryl Doncaster, ÔThe
Story DocumentaryÕ, in Paul Rotha, ed.. Television
in the Making (London: Focal Press, 1956).
36. Like most producers,
she was never a BBC staff member, but worked on short-term
contracts. Tony Garnett recalled that his first BBC contract
was for nine months (phone conversation, 12 June
1998).
37. Banham, op. cit., p.
202.
38. In a phone conversation
of 11 June 1998, she maintained that her intention had
been to celebrate difference rather than to denigrate.
39. In a letter, undated
but received the day after our phone conversation of
11 June 1998.
40. Interview, 28 September
1998.
41. Norman Swallow, ÔTelevision:
the Integrity of Fact and FictionÕ. This originally appeared
in Sight and Sound, XL, No.3 (Summer 1976), but
his argument was re-circulated in Goodwin and Kerr, op.
cit., P. 57-61; Banham, op. cit., p. 194-216; Derek Paget, True
Stories? Documentary Drama on Radio, Screen, and Stage (Manchester
University Press, 1990), p. 91-6; John Corner, The
Art of Record: a Critical Introduction to Documentary (Manchester
University Press, 1996), P. 90-107; Julian Petley, op.
cit., p. 30Ñ2.
42. See Banham. op. cit.,
p. 197; Paget, op. cit., p.96.
43. ChristieÕs first starring
role, in Billy Liar, was in 1963.
44. Letter. 7 June
1994.
45. Corner op. cit., p.
106; Petley op. cit., p.30. John Corner tells me he has
revised his use of Shubik in the reprinted Art of
Record.
46. Interview, 7 November
1996. Garnett acknowledges one alteration to the original
film, the result of a missing release form. The scene
in which Cathy is rebuffed by prospective landladies
had one cut made (see text. p. 63-4). Such problems were
not unusual when television was adapting to what were
essentially Ôdirect cinemaÕ film techniques. Irene Shubik
told me that something similar happened on Edna the
Inebriate Woman.
47. Stewart Lane, Morning
Star, 14 January 1%7.
48. Alan Rosenthal, The
Documentary Conscience: a Casebook in Film Making (Berkeley;
London, 1980), p. 161.
49. See Zibba Mays, The
Guardian, 2 March 1972. SandfordÕs letter was published
on 10 May 1972.
50. Sandford, op. cit.,
P. 17.
51. In those days, Times reviews
were anonymously written by ÔOur Television CriticÕ,
but the reviewer was Robert Wright Cooper (1904-92) who
took the role for the final period (1966-69) of his 45
years as a Times journalist. Irene Shubik said
to me: ÔIÕm absolutely certain that was said in a number
of papersÕ, but I can find no other evidence. She used
press cuttings and other material in BBC files when writing
her book and I have checked these at Caversham.
I have also looked more widely, at Colindale Newspaper
Library and in her files at the BFI. These files, donated
in 1985, consist of 39 box files of which only three
relate to the arguments of this article (Boxes 3, 30,
and 37 Ñ on SandfordÕs plays, her book, and general
press cuttings).
52. See ÔCathyÕs Message
Still Comes HomeÕ, Evening Standard, 12 August
1976.
Download
this article 
|