The ODD ANGLE

Auckland Star, Volume LXXIII, Issue 122, 26 May 1942, Page 4

The ODD ANGLE

(By MacCLURE) • FILM CENSORSHIP As Feeble tacked up the gaycoloured pennants his soldier and airman grandsons had brought him, I talked with our little parson cobber about this demand on the part of our "unco guid" for the stricter censorship of the films. For a parson I found him very broadminded on the subject. You can always tell whether a man is broadminded or not. If he agrees wholeheartedly with you on all points under discussion he is—if he doesn't, you can take it for granted that, first, his education is incomplete and, secondly, that the man is narrow-minded. Besides, I wouldn't mind betting you that sort of man is a Fifth Columnist, or at least a defeatist and is definitely sabotaging the nation's war effort. I know lots of 'em. It's not that they cannot see things your way— they just won't. They're prejudiced, ignorant—they, want, what's the word?, ah, "liquidating." There's no room for disunity or disharmony in this world. "Off with their heads ' —that should always be your motto when you get stuck into an argument with people like that. Now our little parson man is, as I said, different. He realises that the attitude of certain of his colleagues of the cloth is nothing less than unwarranted interfering with one of our most popular institutions—"the pictures"—and, like myself, he's agin their interference. "It's wholly and solely a matter for the parents to decide, as you say, Mac," he agreed. "Of course, mind you, some of 'em are a bit hot," he added. "Still, there are parents who'd sooner their kiddies learnt the facts of life from your Betty Crables than have it imparted to them in a Sunday school." "Yep—and them Betty Grables of our film world wouldn't make bad teachers either," Feeble said as he climbed down from the stepladder.

• PULPIT POLITICS "I can't say I agree with those who are so insistent on a stricter ' censorship of our films—not even with my brother parsons," our little i cobber explained. "Take Feeble's ; grandsons, for instance. They have seen practically every film that has come here during the past dozen years—you'd hardly say the pictures had demoralised or degraded them, now, would you?" Well, hardly. They seem to have struggled along from film to film as they grewup from "trolley" days to bigger things with army and air force markings on them. So far none of them have figured in any appeals against service—not even on conscientious grounds—and "the pictures" have neither affected their morals nor their ability to pass service examinations. I will admit, though, had Feeble sent 'em to Sunday school they would have had a much better knowledge of the wars of the Bible and the wickcdness of the nations of Bible times. At church, too—had they taken kindly to it—they could have learnt a lot about social justice. Christian economics, and suchlike political themes—all according, of course, to the church to which they went. As it is, they're going out into the big world "polluted" (I think that's the word the critics love) with the ideas "the pictures" put into their big brave hearts. Well, knowing the kids, I think they can overcome all that—better even than the so-called religious lads in our defaulters' camps at that. • THE PART THEY PLAY Personally. I think this criticism of our official film censor has gone far enough. My own experience is that it is the folks who don't go to "the pictures" who have so much to say. To my mind, considering what a big part they play in our lives, the films do not get a fraction of the credit they deserve—nor the men responsible for their appearance here. Apart altogether from the position the industry occupies in our commercial world, and looked at only from the point of mere entertainment, one needs only to look back two or three decades to see what they have meant to us and what a big world they have made for us within a few yards, oft-times, of our own homes. One could scarcely imagine a world without picture shows. True enough, Hollywood has sent us tripe at times—clean forgetting we have a radio in the home— but there have been many masterpieces as well. Looking back to those happier days when John Bunny and Flora Finch cheered us up, and later, to when the capers of Fatty Arbuckle and Harold Lloyd and that host of other stars of yesterday who sent us home with big smiles all over our dials, one must, in defiance of these critics of the pictures, admit that they have influenced our daily lives—for the better. True, men like Rudolph Valentino cramped our style and made it ; harder for the young men of yesterday to click with the girls of those days but, my, oh my, what glorious dreams the same Rudolph gave some : of the spinsters (and married ladies, too, for that matter) in our midst. ; At any rate, neither the W.E.A. nor the Y.M.C.A. ever had such a hold on the masses as the much-criticised films, and it would need a complete change in Sunday school curriculum ' to swing the modern kid over in his ! allegiance.