They Film People Don't They, Thoughts

Home from the Hill

Is there anything better than discovering a new filmmaker?

This week we watched Home from the Hill (1987), by British documentarian Molly Dineen. I’m not sure why Dineen isn’t very well known around the world, because I really loved the film and it looks like she’s been doing good and interesting work for decades. I was shocked to discover that her most-watched film, Geri, has been marked as seen by only 22 people on Letterboxd. I feel like there’s an untouched gold mine of material just waiting for me to discover it — if I can find her films anywhere, that is.

Home from the Hill follows Hilary Hook, a cartoonishly old-school British gentleman (think the Major from Fawlty Towers) as he moves back to England after a lifetime abroad in “the colonies”. His 1930s-era views clash spectacularly with the reality of modern British urban life, but he remains an incredibly charming and sympathetic character even as he’s pining for the days when he had (African) domestic servants and a wife who waited on his every desire.

I think the film works so well because Dineen embeds herself so deeply into Hook’s life that we get to see moments that another filmmaker would never be able to capture. Dineen had such great access because she was dating Hook’s son (who was often present when they were filming), so she was more like a member of the family hanging around with a camera and sound person, rather than a traditional and scary film crew. This gave her access to the minutia of Hook’s life, small moments like trying to figure out how to use an automatic can opener, or idly staring out of windows — unguarded moments where Hook has to confront his inability to function in British society.

The question of informed consent is interesting in this case — Hook obviously had a high level of direct involvement in this film. In a video interview we watched this week, Dineen herself said that she likes to keep her subjects involved through the entire process of making the film, so they can protest at any time if they feel like they’ve been misrepresented or don’t like how things are turning out. Informed consent is a continually ongoing process for Dineen, which negates a lot of potential problems — I can’t imagine Dineen being sued by any of her subjects, since she keeps them so involved through the process. This also sets up the subject to feel like the filmmaker is on their “side”, which may encourage them to speak more freely or be more welcoming to the filmmaker into their world.

I wonder if the fact that Hook and Dineen were essentially family played into the consent aspect at all — and if Hook would have given the same access to another filmmaker. Did he trust Dineen to treat him more fairly than other people would? Did he know how antiquated his views were, and how he was likely to be perceived by 1980s British audiences (or 21st century audiences)?

Regardless, the film feels like it is as much Hook’s film as it is Dineen’s — his personality drives the entire film, and you definitely get the feeling that he often “performs” for the camera, verbalising his thoughts and commentating his own actions.

Dineen has also made documentaries about a train station, the London Zoo, and British farmers, among many other subjects. These are not inherently interesting topics, but Dineen has a knack for finding compelling characters who can sustain an hour or more of screen time, much like how Frederick Wiseman’s films sound incomprehensibly boring on paper but once you watch them they are absolutely transfixing. I’d love to know how much preparation she puts into identifying and pre-interviewing people to decide whether it’s worth making a film with them, or if she just turns up on the day and tries to build tension and interest in the editing room.

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