Someone gave me the DVD of Overlord at Christmas and I thought it might be interesting for those who browse through these reviews to hear from someone who had a very very very small part in the making of this film, but who was in a position to observe some of the work that went into it. I was a young and inexperienced assistant editor at the time and I was present for much of the editing and completion of the film. We were mainly based in Stuart Cooper's house in Notting Hill- then not so fashionable, and moved later to Twickenham studios. I remember a roving showbiz correspondent putting his head round the door there and asking who was in the film, anyone he'd heard of? I couldn't help him and he withdrew in disgust.
Quite rightly, John Alcott is honourably mentioned in reviews and Stuart's commentary for the look of the film and the accomplished matching of old and new. I would also mention Jonathan Gili's contribution, then an editor, who later went on to direct and produce many great and quirky documentaries for the BBC. Jonathan worked with Stuart to construct the rhythm and the blend of the archive and 'live action'. His poetic timing and intrinsic wit added immeasurably to building the motor of the picture, making it purr where it could easily have stuttered. He also shared a sense of perfectionism with Stuart. Paul Glass's score, conjured out of penury of time and money, added a depth and resonance way beyond the means at the production's disposal, and I would draw attention to it. Lastly, but certainly not least, I would mention Alan Bell the sound editor. I will never forget the awe I felt when I stumbled into the dubbing theatre at Twickenham Studios and heard for the first time the all tracks run through of the scenes where bombers are unleashed over darkened cities. Up to then, the archive footage, with which I had become familiar, had been splendid, poignant and distant. Alan's delicacy and imagination combined with the music to turn it into a terrible elegy; for sound editors the brutal and spectacular is sometimes easier, and the more delicate and mysterious more difficult, but Alan managed both. Remember, this was a time before stereo was commonplace and the word digital did not impress. Jonathan is now dead, so is Alan; John Alcott too; and Paul Glass must be pretty senior now.
Overlord was made on a shoestring; I seem to remember that a 2CV was used as a camera car for tracking shots, despite John Alcott's cachet. The formality of the mis en scene can be explained partially by this fact. Faute de mieux, it faithfully -and conveniently- echoes the shooting styles of films of the 40s. But in essence the predictable dialogue and selection of scenes of Tom's life were created to mirror the structure of the Overlord and Bayeux tapestries, if I recall correctly. Not startlingly individual, but about ordinary men in extraordinary times. Where Stuart and Christopher Hudson elaborate this is in the dream and premonition scenes and this is a nod to 'film art'- perhaps the new tapestry format! Stuart, I believe, struggled hard, persuading, inspiring and cajoling, to turn the film into something far more ambitious than planned. And the fact that he did so is to his credit.
Quite rightly, John Alcott is honourably mentioned in reviews and Stuart's commentary for the look of the film and the accomplished matching of old and new. I would also mention Jonathan Gili's contribution, then an editor, who later went on to direct and produce many great and quirky documentaries for the BBC. Jonathan worked with Stuart to construct the rhythm and the blend of the archive and 'live action'. His poetic timing and intrinsic wit added immeasurably to building the motor of the picture, making it purr where it could easily have stuttered. He also shared a sense of perfectionism with Stuart. Paul Glass's score, conjured out of penury of time and money, added a depth and resonance way beyond the means at the production's disposal, and I would draw attention to it. Lastly, but certainly not least, I would mention Alan Bell the sound editor. I will never forget the awe I felt when I stumbled into the dubbing theatre at Twickenham Studios and heard for the first time the all tracks run through of the scenes where bombers are unleashed over darkened cities. Up to then, the archive footage, with which I had become familiar, had been splendid, poignant and distant. Alan's delicacy and imagination combined with the music to turn it into a terrible elegy; for sound editors the brutal and spectacular is sometimes easier, and the more delicate and mysterious more difficult, but Alan managed both. Remember, this was a time before stereo was commonplace and the word digital did not impress. Jonathan is now dead, so is Alan; John Alcott too; and Paul Glass must be pretty senior now.
Overlord was made on a shoestring; I seem to remember that a 2CV was used as a camera car for tracking shots, despite John Alcott's cachet. The formality of the mis en scene can be explained partially by this fact. Faute de mieux, it faithfully -and conveniently- echoes the shooting styles of films of the 40s. But in essence the predictable dialogue and selection of scenes of Tom's life were created to mirror the structure of the Overlord and Bayeux tapestries, if I recall correctly. Not startlingly individual, but about ordinary men in extraordinary times. Where Stuart and Christopher Hudson elaborate this is in the dream and premonition scenes and this is a nod to 'film art'- perhaps the new tapestry format! Stuart, I believe, struggled hard, persuading, inspiring and cajoling, to turn the film into something far more ambitious than planned. And the fact that he did so is to his credit.