In the rush to write ‘comprehensive’ histories of film, somuch has been obscured or dismissed. This isperhaps understandable given that no history, nomatter how ambitious, could possibly include every filmthat has ever been made or viewed. But what wouldhappen if previously marginal works were finallybrought out onto the centre stage? What would theytell us that we have forgotten?

Amateur film, for example, once so popular an activity,is conspicuous by its absence from conventional filmhistories. The sparse writing that does exist onamateur filmmaking popularly evokes ideas of artisticand financial freedom and often suggests a verypersonal, even indulgent vision.1 But a look atScottish Screen’s extensive archives presents a lessclear-cut picture of this particular strand of cinema.Contrary to writings on amateur film that have tendedto focus exclusively on the avant-garde and homemovies, there is a middle ground and a subsequentlost history of ‘hobbyist’ filmmaking. Surely we havean obligation, as inheritors of this material, to writethese works into the history of Scottish film.

Amateur film festivals provided a platform for thesehobbyist filmmakers (as part of amateur film societies)to exhibit their work to a general audience, andScotland was no exception. Every year from 1933 to1986 a selection of shorts were shown at the CosmoCinema, Glasgow (now the GFT), as part of theinternationally famous Scottish Amateur Film Festival.Each film was entered into one of five categories:fiction, non-fiction, colour, Scottish and novice.Judgements were made about their aesthetic qualityby a panel from the professional industry: famouspanel members included Michael Powell, AlfredHitchcock and Forsyth Hardy.2 These films are farricher than condescending attitudes towards ‘amateur’activity would suggest. After all, to be called an‘amateur’ says nothing about your ability, only yourplace in the market economy.

From our present day vantage point these filmsfascinate for reasons altogether different from theirobvious artistic merit. For example, in 1940 a youngprofessional photographer from the town of Wick, inthe far north of Scotland, submitted a non-fiction filmdocumenting the industrial processes which took placeafter fishing vessels returned to shore. AlexJohnston’s remarkably sophisticated (from a formalpoint of view), Around Wick Harbour, drew on anddeveloped work in John Gierson’s 1929 film Drifters.Johnston’s film enacts a basic narrative of industrialcapitalism common to documentary films of this era asit documents the transportation, gutting and auctioningof herring at the height of the international trade. Thisindustrial practice was common on the east coast of

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‘Worth Remembering’Why Around Wick Harbour 1974/75 is important

Ryan Shand

Scotland during the 1930s and was fictionalised byNeil Gunn in The Silver Darlings. While the study ofnon-fiction films such as these might seem toreproduce discourses of ‘authenticity’ and ‘factuality’that have long been dominant in the study of Scottishprofessional filmmaking,3 it could be argued that theyin fact reveal trends long dormant in writings onnational cinemas. The discourse of the ‘local’ runsthough Johnston’s film and opens the work up to theviewer in a way that is unusual in professional film.The title is revealing in itself: Around Wick Harbour.The spectator is invited on a visual journey around thisparticular work place in a way that would beinappropriate in a similar film made for a massaudience. The geographical specificity of the work issignificant, and is likely to have prompted twofilmmakers to remake this film using the same 16mmcamera almost 40 years later, but the questionremains: why?

Around Wick Harbour 1974/75 was made for noobvious artistic intent. It was not entered into theScottish Amateur Film Festival and the filmmakers hadno intention of doing so. The original was 11 minuteslong, while the remake is around three times thatlength. It fails to impress on either artistic or formalgrounds, yet it is graded as ‘Historical Value 1’ (thehighest grading) in the Scottish Screen archivecatalogue. Why is this film so important? A look at thefilmmakers behind the camera is revealing.

The Wick Society was formed in the 1970s, its initialobjective to save the Thomas Telford designedbuildings on the lower Pultneytown side of the townfrom demolition by the council. They wereunsuccessful, yet continued into other areas of localinterest, such as the Wick Heritage Centre. A non-profit organisation run by volunteers, the centreacquired many items of historic value such as clothingand furniture and made exhibits out of periodrecreations. In short, its mission became one ofrecording a vanishing local culture.

One of the Wick Society’s most significantinterventions was the rescuing and preservation of thevast collection of photographs from the Johnstonarchive: a family photography business that as well asspecialising in portraiture, also took many stillphotographs of the local fishing industry. Part of thiscollection included the negative of Around WickHarbour, along with the original 16mm camera thatwas used during its production in 1937. It was in thiscontext that two founding members of the WickSociety, Iain Sutherland and Ian Mackenzie, startedproducing non-fiction films of the area.

It is understandable from a pragmatic point of viewwhy these men choose to make non-fiction films ratherthan the elaborate fantasy films typical of EnricoCocozza and Frank Marshall, both prominent amateurfilmmakers in Glasgow during the 1950s and 60s.Quite simply it is less expensive to find material in thelandscape that surrounds, rather than trying torecreate an imaginary fictional one. But in line with theaims and objectives of a heritage society, non-fiction

film is often seen as having a privileged relationshipwith history: something a consultation of ScottishScreen archival documents and cataloguing policybears out. This historical impulse fed into theirnumerous film projects around Caithness, including amoving image record of the last cooperage in Scotlandjust before it closed its doors for good.

The potential benefits of instead studying this materialfrom a historical and ethnographic perspective aregreat. From a formal point of view the remake ofAround Wick Harbour may be considered overly long,featuring much repetition of subject matter anddigressions from an exclusive focus on the fishingindustry. Parts of the 1970s version, in fact, attempt toremake shot for shot sequences of the original. This isevident in the opening sequence when the cameratracks the fishing boats entering the harbour from thesame positions as the 1937 version. However, the

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historic intentions of the filmmakers become clearerwhen the changes that have taken place in the localindustry over the last 40 years are noted. The catch ismostly white fish instead of herring. There has been avast reduction in the workforce, as can be seen whenthe fishermen unload and gut the fish, before packingthe produce themselves: rather than following a strictdivision of labour that we can see in the 1937 version.During the height of the international trade of herring atthe beginning of the twentieth century, lines upon linesof women were employed to gut herring, a processdone at high speed in the Johnston film. By contrast,the Wick Society film shows that the downgrading ofthe industry had meant that the workforce had becomeexclusively male. The strength of this film as acompanion piece to the 1937 version of Around WickHarbour now becomes obvious. The Wick Societyconsciously re-made the Johnston film so that acompare and contrast model of historical examinationcould be attempted. The film may look formally naïve:when for instance the camera seems to aimlesslyfollow local men walking around the harbour area andchatting in groups. However, these seemingly randomand unmotivated shots actually serve to highlight thechanges that have occurred in this particulargeographic area over time; these artistic ‘flaws’ are itsstrength as visual evidence.

This film attempts to document a town in economicdecline during the downturn in North Sea fishing sincethe 1950s. Instead of a film of fevered industrialactivity, the remake presents an image of relativeinactivity. Men who would have been working hard asfishermen when the industry were in good health, haveexperienced a vast reduction in potential income asthe stocks of the North Sea have so dramaticallydecreased. This is partly as a result of over fishing byan earlier generation: the generation filmed with suchawe and admiration in the first Around Wick Harbour.

The effect this economic downturn was having on thelives of the local fishermen is apparent 20 minutes intoAround Wick Harbour 1974/75. In a sequence with noequivalent in the Johnston version, the film documentsthe events of the local fishermen’s strike during whatcame to be known as the ‘Cod Wars’ of the 1970s. Ahandwritten sign says ‘Fisherman’s Meeting: AllRequested to Attend’, but what actually happened atthis meeting is not shown. Instead, what we see is ascene reminiscent of one of the first films ever shown,Employees Leaving the Lumiere Factory (1885), onlythis time it is fishermen leaving a meeting. This isfilmed by framing the entrance to the hall and lettingthe camera run for two minutes. A steady processionof fishermen of various ages walk into frame. Someacknowledge the camera some do not, before walkingout of shot. Both films are silent, but inter-titles arenever used for explanation. An answer to ourquestions about what we have just seen is provided 40seconds later, when we are shown a number of boatsblocking the entrance to the inner harbour. Thisblockade was motivated by Iceland closing its watersto British boats within a twelve mile radius, and theWick fishermen complained that foreign fish landingswere undercutting local prosperity. Therefore, this

protest was a retaliation to sanctions that threatenedthe fishermen’s livelihood. Fishermen such a IainSutherland’s brother James, took part in this three dayprotest: an event into which the Wick Society’scameras give us a unique insight. This kind of actionis in stark contrast to the internationalism that was afeature of the fishing industry in the area during thethirties, but this is a consequence of an industry indecline.

This sequence would have been explained during IainSutherland’s lectures at the screenings he regularlyorganises. As a local historian and writer, he is in aperfect position to put the events projected on screeninto an appropriate context by providing a runningcommentary. The Wick Society has held numerousscreenings throughout Scotland, ‘from Lerwick toGlasgow’.4 He would act as a mediator between thepast on screen and the contemporary audience whohad come to see the screening in town halls andpublic spaces across the country. Therefore, theremake of Around Wick Harbour becomes the visual‘evidence’ of Wick’s past that is only completed bySutherland’s historical explanations. Around WickHarbour 1974/75 is then best understood as lecturefilm made as part of the more egalitarian side to theheritage movements of the seventies. The film is thus,an aid to personal and community memory.

At the end of the remake, we as spectators arepresented with a 360-degree view of the town from ahigh vantage point, something without narrative orartistic motivation. This may, on first viewing, seemunusual. However, if we consider the idea of the ‘view’aesthetic as has been developed by the film scholarTom Gunning, in relation to early non-fictionfilmmaking, we can better understand the motivationsof a sequence such as this. Gunning notes:

‘The camera literally acts as a tourist, spectator orinvestigator, and the pleasure in the film lies in thissurrogate of looking … In a “view” the world ispresented to the camera, and therefore to thespectator.’5

In this idea of the camera acting a ‘tourist, spectator orinvestigator’ there is a resonance to what is happeningin Wick. Their ‘view’ aesthetic was part of an almostscientific effort towards a comprehensive ‘mapping’ ofthe landscape. The camera captures the changinggeography of the town, including its suburbandevelopments out towards the coast, as its sweepingpan freezes the image in time. This film represents abridge between their present and the retrospectiveviewer of the future, (namely, us).

What was intended as a companion piece to AroundWick Harbour, in fact, through its idiosyncrasies, buildson and develops the latent historic and ethnographicimpulses of the original. Together the two films givefascinating insights into the culture that they emergedout of. And for all their ‘local’ nature, they have quiterightly found their place in the national film archive.

The variety of landscapes (outside of the metropolitan

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centres of Glasgow or Edinburgh) that could bestudied, using amateur film, is considerable. Thesehistories are waiting to be written. For the moment,both versions of Around Wick Harbour provide aunique document of a time and place that would haveotherwise been forgotten, if representations of smallcommunities were merely left in the hands of mediaprofessionals. For this, the Wick Society’s interventioninto its local history is worth remembering.

Endnotes

1. Deren, M. ‘Amateur Versus Professional’ in FilmCulture (New York: vol. 39, Winter 1965).2. McBain, J. ‘And the winner is…A Brief History ofthe Scottish Amateur Film Festival (1933-86)’ inKapstein, N (ed) Jubilee Book: Essays on AmateurFilm (Belgium: Association Europeenne Inedits, 1997).3. See Murray, J. ‘‘Keep your head down and saveyour breath’: ‘Authentic’ Scotlands and British Cinemain The Brave Don’t Cry’ The Drouth (Glasgow;Clydeside Press, Autumn 2002).4. Personal correspondence with Mr Sutherland.5. Gunning, T. ‘Before Documentary: Early NonfictionFilms and the ‘View’ Aesthetic’ in Hertogs, D & DeKlerk, N (ed) Uncharted Territory: Essays on EarlyNonfiction Film (Amsterdam: Strichting NederlandsFilmmuseum, 1997) p.15.

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