Publications
Andrew Spicer, University of the West of England:
The Creative Producer - The Michael Klinger Papers;
• Paper Given
at the University of Stirling Conference, Archives and Auteurs - Filmmakers
and their Archives, 2-4 September 2009
Introduction
This paper is based on documents that were deposited at the University
of the West of England in 2007 by Michael Klinger’s son, Tony. The
Klinger Papers are an archive that consists
of approximately 200 suspension files and numerous screenplays concerning
21 projects on which Klinger worked as producer or executive producer
from the late 1960s to the mid-1980s. They are a very rich source of material,
not available elsewhere, including itemized breakdowns of production costs;
film grosses; copies of financial agreements with investors; distribution
sales and territorial rights; television broadcasting deals; negotiations
with authors and actors over rights and payments; company profit and loss
accounts and promotion and publicity material. Comprehensive material
exists for several films, including Gold
(1974), which I have chosen as a case study. I was awarded a two-year
AHRC Research Grant in July to catalogue and interpret these papers. The
essential elements are: appointment of a full-time Research Assistant
(RA) who will work under my supervision to catalogue the Papers; place
selected documents online; conduct interviews with me of several creative
personnel who worked closely with Klinger; co-author articles and a monograph
on Klinger; organise a mid-point symposium that will debate the role of
the producer in British cinema. This last element forms part of a wider
project, which includes my work on Sydney Box
and the monograph published in Manchester University Press’s ‘British
Film Makers’ series, whose (modest!) aim
is to re-write British film history from the perspective of the ‘producer-artist’,
a formulation I’ll come back to in conclusion. The project will
commence in January after the RA has been appointed.
The Producer
Although Michael Klinger was the most successful independent producer
in the 1970s, he has become one of the legions of the lost in British
cinema. This occlusion, is symptomatic of the neglect of the producer’s
role within British cinema studies (and within Film Studies in general
- see Spicer, 2004), which, in Alexander Walker’s
deft formulation, ‘has to be resisted if films are to make sense
as an industry that can sometimes create art’ (Walker, 1986, p.
17). The producer is conventionally characterised as conservative, philistine
and anti-creative, as summarised by Ben Hecht’s
outburst: ‘The producer is a sort of bank guard. His objective is
to see that nothing is put on the screen that people are going to dislike.
This means practically 99 per cent of literature, thinking, probings of
all problems.’ (Quoted in Bernstein, 2000, p. 394). In contradistinction
to other creative personnel in the film industry - actors, set designers,
screenwriters, directors, cinematographers - the producer does not possess
a set of specific craft skills but rather what Leo Rosten defines as ‘the
ability to recognize ability, the knack of assigning the right creative
persons to the right creative spots. He should have knowledge of audience
tastes, a story sense, a businessman’s approach to costs and the
mechanics of picture making. He should be able to manage, placate, and
drive a variety of gifted, impulsive, and egocentric people’ (Rosten,
1941, pp. 238-39). Above all - and this, I suggest is his or her real
importance for analysis - the producer is involved in the whole production
process, as Michael Balcon characterizes the role: ‘[t]he one person
who can apprehend a film as an entity and be able to judge its progress
and development from the point of view of the audience who will eventually
view it’; a mediator between commerce and creativity, having ‘a
dual capacity as the creative man and the trustee of the moneybags’
(Balcon, 1945, p. 5). However, this role as mediator and anticipator of
audience taste does not have to be conservative, as Sydney Box argued:
‘A film producer has two responsibilities: to the public and to
his backers. If he is an imaginative and courageous producer, the two
may coincide. The ideal producer, it seems to me, must always look ahead
and try not merely to acquiesce in box-office trends but to lead public
opinion and gauge future audience requirements’ (Box, 1948).
With these general formulations in mind, I’d like to review Klinger’s
career briefly before turning to my case study to exemplify and concretise
some of the key issues.
Klinger’s Career
Rotund, cigar-chomping and ebullient - Sheridan
Morley described him as resembling “nothing
so much as a flamboyant character actor doing impressions of Louis B.
Meyer” (1)
- Michael Klinger might seem a caricature of the producer, but this image
belied a quicksilver intelligence, photographic memory and a cultivated
mind.
Born in 1920, the son of Polish Jewish immigrants who had settled in London’s
East End, Klinger’s entry into the film industry came via his ownership
of two Soho strip clubs, the Nell Gwynn
and the Gargoyle - that
were used for promotional events such as the Miss Cinema competition and
by film impresarios such as James Carreras
- and through an alliance with a fellow Jewish East Ender Tony
Tenser, who worked for a film distribution company,
Miracle Films. In October 1960, they set up Compton Films which owned
the Compton Cinema Club
- that showed, to anyone over twenty-one, nudist and other uncertificated,
often foreign, films - and Compton Film Distributors
which started out with a modest slate of salacious imported films (e.g.
Tower of Lust) and a
series of imaginative publicity stunts. However, finding it difficult
to obtain sufficient films, Klinger and Tenser started making their own
low-budget films, beginning with Naked as Nature
Intended (November 1961) directed by George
Harrison Marks and starring his girlfriend Pamela
Green (Hamilton, 2005: 10-14).
On the strength of a modest success, Tenser and Klinger formed a new company,
Tekli, to make several
films - including The Yellow Teddybears
(1963) and The Pleasure Girls
(1965) - that combined salaciousness with an attempt at examining serious
sexual issues, an assortment of different genres - comedy, period horror
and sci-fi - and two ‘shockumentaries’ - London
in the Raw (1964) and Primitive
London (1965).
Klinger and Tenser were highly ambitious, but culturally divergent. Characteristically,
when Roman Polanski
arrived in London and approached the pair to obtain finance having failed
elsewhere, it was Klinger who had seen Knife in
the Water (1962) and therefore gave him the
opportunity, and the creative freedom, to make Repulsion
(1965) and the even more outré Cul-de-sac
(1966). Although Repulsion
in particular had been financially successful, and both films won awards
at the Berlin Film Festival that conferred welcome prestige on Tekli,
Tenser, always happier to stay with proven box-office material, sex films
and period horror, saw Polanski as at best a distraction and at worse
a liability. These differences led to the break-up of the partnership
in October 1966.
Klinger set up a new company, Avton Films
and continued to promote young, talented but unproven directors who were
capable of making fresh and challenging features: Peter
Collinson’s absurdist/surrealist thriller
The Penthouse (1967);
Alastair Reid’s
Baby Love (1968), another
film that focused on a sexually precocious young female, but with an ambitious
narrative style that included flashbacks and nightmare sequences; and
Mike Hodges’s
ambitious and brutal thriller Get Carter
(1971). Although Get Carter
is now routinely discussed as Hodges’ directorial triumph, it was
Klinger who had bought the rights to Ted Lewis’s
novel Jack’s Return Home
because he sensed its potential to imbue the British crime thriller with
the realism and violence of its American counterparts and who had succeeded
in raising the finance through MGM-British all before Hodges became involved.
Part of Klinger’s success was his ability to tap into various markets.
In the 1970s he continued to make low-budget sexploitation films with
the “Confessions of”
series (Window Cleaner/Pop Performer/Driving Instructor/Holiday
Camp, 1974-78) for which he acted as executive
producer and whose modest costs could be recouped (in fact they made substantial
profits) (2) even from a rapidly shrinking
domestic market and partly compensate for an industry that now lacked
a stable production base, was almost completely casualised, and where
there was a chronic lack of continuous production. Klinger continued to
produce more recherché and challenging crime thrillers, including
Reid’s neglected Something to Hide
(1972), Collinson’s Tomorrow Never Comes
(1978) and Claude Chabrol’s
Les liens de sang (Blood
Relatives, 1978). However, Klinger’s main
energies went into the production of big-budget action-adventure films
- Gold (1974) and Shout
at the Devil (1976) - aimed at the international
market.
Given the parlous state of the British film industry, such a strategy
may seem odd or even reckless. However, the selection of the action-adventure
film was based on Klinger’s estimation of public taste - particularly
the popularity of the Bond films - and his conviction, in the context
of a dwindling domestic market, that international productions that could
hope for worldwide sales were the route to survival for the British film
industry. Indeed, he repeatedly attacked the insularity, parochialism
and timorousness of the British film industry in the trade press (3).
Klinger also saw an opportunity, with the withdrawal of large companies
(notably Rank) from
production, for ambitious (and, one might add, courageous) independent
producers to fill a production vacuum. His problem was that he could no
longer rely, as he had done for Get Carter
and Pulp (1972), on American
finance. As Alexander Walker
has shown, it was largely American money that had sustained the British
film industry in the 1960s and the withdrawal of Hollywood studios from
the industry in the 1970s was swift, unceremonious and catastrophic. The
production history of both Klinger’s action-adventure films would
reward extended analysis - Shout
was ‘one of the biggest independently financed films in British
cinema history’(4) - but for brevity’s
sake I will focus on Gold,
a more manageable focus than Klinger’s negotiations with Wilbur
Smith outlined in my abstract, but it does encompass
that relationship.
Gold: genesis and production context
Klinger on location with Gold; the man to
his left is Peter Hunt, the director; courtesy of Tony Klinger
|
Gold is primarily
a disaster movie - a very successful genre in the 1970s - beginning and
ending with tense sequences depicting underground disasters in a South
African gold mine. Its hero, the mine’s General Manager Rod Slater
(Roger Moore), is
a contemporary, classless self-made man of action, whose virility derives
from his dangerous, exacting work and who shares with James Bond - particularly
through the casting of Moore who had just had starred in Live
and Let Die (1973) - a refined hedonism and
compulsive womanising.
Gold: Roger Moore as
Rod Slater; courtesy of Tony Klinger |
Slater falls in love with Terry Steyner (Susannah
York), the wife of his devious bisexual boss
Manfred Steyner (Bradford Dillman),
and the daughter of the mine owner Hurry Hirschfield (Ray
Milland). Unbeknown to Hirschfield, Steyner
works secretly for a shadowy international cartel (another Bondian ingredient)
led by Farrell (John Gielgud).
By masterminding an operation to tunnel through to a supposed new vein
of gold which will breach the sides of a vast underground lake, Slater
becomes an unwitting pawn in the cartel’s scheme to flood the whole
of South Africa’s central mining complex and thus force up the price
of gold. Lured away by Terry, another unwitting pawn, for an amorous weekend
at Hirschfield’s country retreat, Slater returns in the nick of
time and, together with the strongest black miner, Big King (Simon
Sabela) saves the mine from disaster. Sabela,
the ‘noble savage’ sacrificing his life to save the mine -
Alexander Walker saw
him as a latter-day Bosambo
from Sanders of the River
(1935) - is one of several residual elements of the Empire film in Gold
which repeatedly emphasises its exotic African location, including the
aerial shots of big game, and its perfunctory depiction of black tribal
dancing as an erotic spectacle for the white couple.
Gold: On-screen rugged
action: Big King (Simon Sabela) and Rod Slater (Roger Moore) try
to save the mine from flooding; courtesy of Tony Klinger |
Even with the action-adventure genre, Klinger was looking to produce a
series of films all derived from the bestselling novels of Wilbur
Smith. Klinger acquired the rights to Shout
at the Devil (1968) and Gold
Mine (1970), buying the latter even before publication,
judging that Smith’s brand of modern exotic action-adventure was
ideal cinematic material (5). He continued,
throughout the 1970s, to try to produce further films based on Smith’s
novels - succeeding with Shout
but failing with Eagle in the Sky
(1974), The Eye of the Tiger
(1975) and The Sunbird
(1972). In May 1970, while Get Carter
was still in production, Klinger was in active discussion with Smith over
a screenplay based on Gold Mine.(6)
Klinger was anxious to build on the cordial relationship he had developed
with Get Carter’s
financiers, MGM-British that had made the only Smith adaptation so far
- Dark of the Sun, released
in Britain as The Mercenaries
in 1968. MGM-British bought out Klinger’s option on Gold
Mine and engaged him as Gold’s
producer on similar terms to those he had negotiated for Get
Carter, thus affording him what he believed
would be a free hand in scripting and casting (7).
However, although Klinger engaged Smith to complete the adaptation of
his own novel, MGM-British brought in an experienced scriptwriter, Stanley
Price, to rewrite. A clearly exasperated Klinger
complained that he had ‘no knowledge whatsoever of your deal with
Stanley Price other than the overall figure I understand you have agreed
to pay him is £5,000 (8)’.
However, as part of the sudden withdrawal of American finance noted above,
MGM-British withdrew its interest in August 1973 (9).
Klinger purchased the rights to the Price screenplay and, as an accomplished
script editor, made some changes himself (10).
However, while he might have been free of interference, with MGM’s
withdrawal, Klinger lost his major source of production finance and also
his distribution guarantees in the all-important American market. To overcome
these problems took a huge effort, particularly as Klinger was unable
to raise the necessary finance in Britain, where the dearth of production
finance was acknowledged officially to be chronic (11).
Klinger himself had drawn attention to this on a number of occasions,
lamenting: ‘I try - and fail - to get British money every time …
It is the hardest place in the world to raise money for films. As a result,
we are letting ourselves be used as a workshop.(12)’
Emphasising that Gold
would be shot entirely on location, Klinger turned to South African businessmen
not used to backing films but whom he persuaded would see a handsome return
on their investment (13). Although this
deal ensured that Gold
could be made (for around $2,000,000, a figure quoted in several reviews),
it was always a precarious arrangement that generated considerable mutual
mistrust. In particular, there was a protracted wrangle over who was responsible
for paying the overages when the film went over budget as the mine-disaster
sequences proved to be more costly to shoot than was anticipated and involved
an expensive studio recreation at Pinewood. Klinger’s South African
financiers expected to see a return on their investment based on the original
estimates that they had agreed and not the final costs (14).
Because the scope and scale of Gold
was extraordinarily ambitious for an independent British producer, its
production required adroit budgeting, careful casting and strict overall
control. Convinced that Roger Moore
was ideal for the lead and could guarantee international sales, Klinger
had negotiated with Moore even before he attained superstardom as Bond.
As the lynchpin, Moore was offered a lucrative deal: a fee of $200,000
plus five per cent of Gold’s
gross (15). Although Klinger could use
Moore’s star power positively - to raise finance and persuade other
star names (John Gielgud,
Ray Milland and Susannah
York), to take prominent parts - it could also
work negatively. Klinger judged that the director of Duel
(1971), Steven Spielberg,
was ideal for an action picture, and another talented young film-maker
whom he wanted to promote. However, Moore was unwilling to entrust the
direction of a major film, at what he judged to be a critical point in
his career, to someone aged only 27 and vetoed Klinger’s choice
(16). Klinger then decided to opt for
the experienced Peter Hunt
who had edited several Bond films before directing On
Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969) and
assembled a crew of other Bond regulars along with his others he had already
worked with, including art director Alex Vetchinsky
and director of photography Ousama Rawi.
Klinger also hired the highly experienced composer Elmer
Bernstein to score the film and placed his own
son Tony in charge of the second unit direction.
Thus although Klinger may have been frustrated by not getting Spielberg,
he has assembled a talented crew, experienced in action-adventure film-making,
many of whom he knew well, and over whom he was able to exercise close
supervision. Klinger was a ‘hands-on’ producer, present throughout
the shooting in South Africa as well as the restaging of some of the underground
sequences at Pinewood. In particular, he arranged the viewing of the daily
rushes to check for quality. His presence became very necessary because
the craft union, the Association of Cinema and Television Technicians
(ACTT), disapproved of its members working in the apartheid state of South
Africa and threatened not to handle the film in post-production and discipline
the crew (Mitchell, 1997, p. 83). Klinger robustly defended his choice
of location as the only appropriate one and argued that he should be supported
for creating work in a time of crisis within the industry. He also appointed
a QC to act for the technicians once they returned to England (17).
Reluctantly, under pressure from some of its own members, the union agreed
not to hinder the production (18).
Gold - Distribution
In addition to struggling to raise production finance, Klinger had immense
difficulties as an independent in obtaining a distribution agreement,
crucial to Gold’s
financial viability. He first approached British
Lion in November 1973 as potential UK distributors,
describing Gold as a
‘British Quota [that] has Poseidon Adventure
possibilities’(19), a reference
to the most successful of the early disaster movies. British
Lion’s Chief Executive Michael
Deeley declined, arguing that the drastic reduction
in the British ‘cinema market’ coupled with rising costs for
releasing a picture meant that ‘there is only a limited chance of
making a profit out of a straight UK deal’(20).
Deeley’s response reveals much about the domestic market at this
point. The Rank Organisation
also declined, as did Nat Cohen
at Anglo-EMI, but a deal was struck with Hemdale,
a relatively new organisation, founded in 1968 by David
Hemmings and John
Daly. Although Hemmings had left the company
in 1970, Hemdale had
established itself as an up-and-coming production/distribution company
and was ambitious to increase its share of the market. Knowing the pressures
on independent producers, Hemdale
was able to drive a hard bargain, offering Klinger a guarantee of only
£100,000 from the UK market, not the £200,000 he had been
seeking (21).
Negotiating an American distribution deal was equally tortuous. Klinger
hired Irvin Shapiro
of Films Around the World Inc.
in order to tout Gold
around the Majors. Paramount
expressed an interest and its President, Frank
Yablans, commented somewhat equivocally: ‘the
characters tend to be two-dimensional and the story is not original’
but ‘the mine sequences could work out to be very exciting visually’(22).
In the end, Paramount
passed on Gold and
it was the lower-ranking Allied Artists
(AA) that finally offered to finance the film. Klinger, disappointed by
Shapiro’s failure to conclude a deal, had negotiated the arrangement
himself at Cannes.
Gold and its makers
- left to right: John Hogarth (executive for Hemdale, distributors);
Paul Kijzer
(sales agent for Avton Films); Michael Klinger (producer and head
of Avton Films); Peter Hunt, standing
(director); John Daly (co-founder of Hemdale and chief executive;
courtesy of Tony Klinger |
Conclusion
Much more could be said about Gold
- its exhibition, uneven critical reception, visual style, characterization
and narrative and its relationship with other British action-adventure
films - in all of which Klinger was intimately involved - but for brevity’s
sake I have limited myself to its production history and what this demonstrates
about the acute difficulties producers faced in the 1970s British film
industry, an era of acute audience decline and chronic fragmentation where
distributors ruled the roost and producers had to be nimble-footed to
survive let alone prosper. But I want to conclude by returning to the
importance of the producer’s role in general terms.
The particularities of the British film industry led John
Caughie to conclude: ‘The importance of
the producer-artist seems to be a specific feature of British cinema,
an effect of the need continually to start again in the organization of
independence (Caughie, 1986: 200).’ A ‘producer-artist’,
of course, is not the same entity as the auteur director whose artistry
may be recognized through a signature visual style or consistent thematic
preoccupations that can be elucidated through the detailed textual interpretation
of his or her films. As with most producers, Klinger’s oeuvre was
diverse and heterogeneous and would elude such an analysis. On the contrary,
understanding a producer’s art, as Vincent Porter argues, lies in
appreciating his or her ability to manipulate creatively the complex and
interlocking relationship between four key factors: an understanding of
public taste - of what subjects and genres could attract a broad audience;
the ability to obtain adequate production finance; the understanding of
who to use in the key creative roles and on what terms; and the effectiveness
of her or his overall control of the production process (Porter, 1983:
179-80). It is inescapably collaborative. The problem in appreciating
the ‘art’ of commercial feature film-making is that it is,
for the most part, invisible. The critical challenge is to render that
art visible by a detailed examination of the production process, understood
as encompassing not only the shooting of the film, but also its genesis
(as an idea, a script or even a hunch), and also its distribution, marketing
and exhibition. This requires considerable efforts of excavation, of archival
documentation, as well as analysis. However, without that effort, and
without appreciating the cultural and economic significance of the ‘producer-artist’,
we are not going to understand the 1970s, or the history of the British
film industry in general.
Appendix: Michael Klinger: Filmography
Naked as Nature Intended
(1961) pc. Markten/Compass, dis. Compton
That Kind of Girl (1963)
pc. Tekli, dis. Compton
The Yellow Teddybears
(1963) pc. Tekli, dis. Compton
London in the Raw (1964)
pc. Trotwood Productions, dis. Compton
Saturday Night Out (1964)
pc. Compton-Tekli, dis. Compton
The Black Torment (1964)
pc. Compton-Tekli, dis. Compton
Repulsion (1965) pc.
Tekli, dis. Compton
Primitive London (1965)
pc. Trotwood Productions, dis. Cinépix Film Properties
A Study in Terror (1965)
pc. Compton-Tekli, dis. Compton
The Pleasure Girls (1965)
pc. Tekli, dis. Compton
Cul-de-Sac (1966) pc.
Compton-Tekli, dis. Compton
Secrets of a Windmill Girl
(1966) pc. Searchlight-Markten, dis. Compton
The London Nobody Knows
(1967) pc. Norcon, dist. London Films
The Projected Man (1966)
pc. MLC, dis. Compton
The Penthouse (1967)
pc. Tahiti, dis. Paramount
La Mujer de mi padre/Muhair
(The Woman of My Father,
1968) pc. Compton Films International, dis. Haven International Pictures
(USA)
Baby Love (1968) pc.
Avton, dis. Avco Embassy
Barcelona Kill (1971)
pc. Avton, dis. Scotia (West Germany)
Get Carter (1971) pc.
MGM-British, dis. MGM-EMI
Pulp (1972) pc. Three
Michaels, dis. United Artists
Something to Hide (1972)
pc. Avton, dis. Avco Embassy
Rachel’s Man (1974)
pc. Longlade, dis. Allied Artists
Gold (1974) pc. Avton,
dis. Hemdale
Confessions of a Window Cleaner
(1974) pc. Swiftdown, dis. Columbia
Confessions of a Pop Performer
(1975) pc. Swiftdown, dis. Columbia
Confessions of a Driving Instructor
(1976) pc. Swiftdown, dis. Columbia
Shout at the Devil (1976)
pc. Tonav Productions, dis. Hemdale
Confessions from a Holiday Camp
(1977) pc. Swiftdown, dis. Columbia
Les liens de sang/Blood Relatives
(1978) pc. Classic Film Industries/ Cinevideo-Filmel, dis. Filmcorp Productions
Tomorrow Never Comes
(1978) pc. Classic Film Industries/Montreal Trust/Neffbourne, dis. Rank
Riding High (1981) pc.
Klinger Productions, dis. Enterprise Pictures
The Assassinator (1988),
pc. Ice International, dis. Cameo Classics
Notes:
‘Klinger the Independent’,
The Times, 20 December 1975.
The Cost of the four ‘Confessions of’
films was only £3,000,000 but the box-office gross was £22,000,000;
Klinger Papers (KP).
‘British Film Industry
Missing Boat by Emphasizing Insular Pix: Klinger’,
Variety, 17 May 1972; ‘Int’l Mkt.
Key To British Production’s Recovery: Klinger’,
Variety, 26 September 1973.
‘Ex-Engineer Klinger
Film Plans Run to 43 Mil. In Two Yrs.’,
Variety, 5 November 1975.
Klinger also acquired the rights to The
Sunbird (1972), Eagle
in the Sky (1974) and The
Eye of the Tiger (1975), but was not able to
produce any of these.
Letter to Michael Klinger from Wilbur Smith’s
solicitors, 13 May 1950; (KP).
Letter from Peter Stone at MGM-British to Klinger,
3 December 1970; KP.
Letter from Klinger to Stone, 6 April 1971; KP.
See the letter from Klinger’s solicitor Raffles
Edelman to Klinger, 7 August 1973; KP.
There is copy of a contract made with Chadwick
Hall for ‘rewriting and polishing’ the screenplay (KP: 17
September 1973), but I have been unable to unearth any information about
this writer.
See Cmnd 6372 - Future
of the British Film Industry: Report of the Prime Minister’s Working
Party [the Terry Report] (London: HMSO, 1976).
Quoted in Garth Pearce, ‘Klinger’s
crusade - put Britain back into its own big picture’,
Daily Express, 21 January 1977.
See the covering letter from Edelmann, 6 August
1974, and the three agreements with Tony Factor, Dennis Bieber (Soco Properties)
and the Ellerine Brothers; KP. The agreements were made with Metropic,
Klinger’s holding company based, for tax reasons, in Vaduz, Liechtenstein.
See the letter from London lawyers Fluxman and
Partners acting on behalf of the South African financiers, 1 April 1977;
KP. The matter dragged on and was the subject of legal proceedings, finally
being referred to arbitration in 1981.
Contract, dated 18 January 1974; KP.
Information obtained from an interview with Tony
Klinger, 11 June 2008.
Hugh Herbert, ‘Will
Gold bite the dust?’, Guardian, 24 November
1973.
Mitchell, 1997: 215.
Letter from Klinger to Michael Deeley at British
Lion, 23 November 1973; KP.
Letter from Deeley to Klinger, 3 December 1973;
KP.
Letter from John Hogarth at Hemdale to Klinger,
16 January 1974; KP.
Letter from Yablans to Shapiro, 6 November 1973;
KP.
References
Bernstein Matthew, Walter Wanger: Hollywood Independent
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2000).
Balcon, Michael, The Producer
(London: BFI Publishing, 1945).
Box, Sydney, ‘Sadism - It Will Only Bring
Us Disrepute’, Kinematograph Weekly, 27
May 1948, p. 18.
Caughie, John, ‘Broadcasting and cinema
1: converging histories’, in Charles Barr
(ed.), All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British
Cinema (London: BFI Publishing, 1986).
Hamilton, John, Beasts in the Cellar: The Exploitation
Career of Tony Tenser (Surrey: FAB Press, 2005).
Mitchell, John, Flickering Shadows: A Lifetime
in Films (Malvern Wells, Worcestershire: Harold
Martin & Redman, 1997).
Porter, Vincent, ‘The Context of Creativity:
Ealing Studios and Hammer Films’, in James
Curran and Vincent Porter (eds), British Cinema
History (London: Weidenfeld and Nicholson, 1983).
Rosten, Leo, Hollywood: The Movie Colony, the
Movie Makers (New York: Harcourt Brace &
Co., 1941)
Spicer, Andrew, ‘The Production Line: Reflections
on the Role of the Film Producer in British Cinema’,
Journal of British Cinema and Television, 1:1 (2004), pp. 33-50.
Walker, Alexander, Hollywood, England: The British
Film Industry in the Sixties London: Harrap,
1986 [1974].
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