One of the most unassuming filmmakers of Britain’s early period (and, with 1960’s astonishing Peeping Tom, its middle period as well), Michael Powell entered the golden age of his career with The Edge of the World. Though he had already made over 20 films by 1937, it represented one of his first successfully realized and self-actualized stabs at what would become one of his chief directorial strengths: the ability to film a very specific and localized environment in a manner that emphasizes its otherworldly fantasias and, paradoxically, remains faithful to the area’s ethnographical features.
To watch the film is to bear witness to Powell’s unique alchemy. Throughout, he infuses a weather-battered island community off the coast of Scotland on the verge of abandonment with off-kilter camera angles, dreamily gauzy cinematography, and a becalmed detachment that lets the characters and scenario do the work for him.
Which isn’t to say that Powell occasionally indulges in a few melodramatic flourishes that he managed to avoid in his masterful collaborations with Emeric Pressburger, including I Know Where I’m Going and Black Narcissus. For instance, he superimposes a montage of mournful reminiscences over a character’s thoughtful close-up on two separate occasions. And for all of the near-documentary-like attitudes that Powell exercises when filming the island’s close-knit community, the screenplay (by Powell and an uncredited John L. Balderston and John Byrd) too often lapses into overly plotty solutions to various conflicts. But in general, The Edge of the World is rife with the sort of miraculously unforced moments of enchantment that one has always come to expect from one of Britain’s most underrated auteurs.
Image/Sound
Milestone’s transfer comes from a BFI restoration that was conducted at the end of the 2000s, and as such it lacks some of the exacting clean-up techniques that have been introduced and honed since. For one, there are instances of image flickering and visible debris. Nonetheless, the disc is a clear upgrade from Image Entertainment’s 2003 DVD, boasting sharper clarity and better contrast despite the limitations of the transfer. The monaural audio also shows its age, particularly in some starkly artificial separations between audio effects and music, but generally the issues of tinniness and hiss endemic to sound films this old are barely perceptible.
Extras
This Blu-ray ports over the extras included on Image’s 2003 DVD, including a commentary track featuring film historian Ian Christie, decorated film editor (and Michael Powell’s widow) Thelma Schoonmaker, and actor Daniel Day-Lewis, the latter reading excerpts from Powell’s memoir about the making of The Edge of the World. The blend of historical detail, film analysis, and the late director’s own memories makes for an informative breakdown of his formative breakthrough. Also included are two short films by Powell, one a piece of wartime propaganda from 1941 (An Airman’s Letter to His Mother) and the other a 1979 documentary (Return to the Edge of the World) in which Powell, John Laurie, and other crew members revisit to the island where the film was shot. Not on the Image disc but present here are a few minutes of unused, silent location footage, as well as some of Powell’s home movies narrated by Schoonmaker.
Overall
The Edge of the World receives a solid high-def transfer, though one hopes that Michael Powell’s first great film might get a more thorough restoration in the future.
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