Review by Jennie Macfie
A Pilgrimage 2009
Various locations around the Highlands, 3-9 August 2009
CARRYING on the work of their Cinema of Dreams at the Ballerina Ballroom in Nairn last year, Tilda Swinton and Mark Cousins have found a new way of re-igniting an audience’s passion for cinema without fast food and CGI.
Tilda Swinton in Julia
Why on earth aren’t Swinton and Cousins in charge of Homecoming Scotland 2009? In one week they and a motley band of followers have rolled a wave of happiness and true delight across the Highlands, using – and on occasions actually pulling – the 30 tonne Screen Machine, almost unrecognisable under brightly coloured garlands, scarves and tinsel. Magic, pure and simple.
Showing films from around the world, A Pilgrimage nevertheless conjured the spirit of Scotland and ceilidh culture. Compare and contrast the “golf/whisky/Rabbie Burns” concept being promulgated in the official Homecoming celebration; a concept which was memorably described last year by the director of the Scottish Storytelling Centre as ‘incoherent rubbish’.
In truth, it often feels about as genuinely Scottish as the phalanxes of tartan dollies and Nessie monsters which lie in wait for the unwary visitor. If Joanna Lumley is now considered a goddess by the Gurkhas, Ms Swinton should forthwith be crowned Queen of the Highlands.
Each night’s showing was introduced with a selection of inspiring tunes, anything from Aretha Franklin and Patti Smith to Take That and David Bowie, to accompany and inspire a dancing singalong clapathon around the cinema seats, led by Pied Pipers Swinton and Cousins.
In Fort Augustus the audience re-acquainted themselves with the genius of Powell and Pressburger’s A Canterbury Tale, a film made at the end of WW2 linking back to Chaucer’s 14th century poem. With the trademark clarity of their cinematography and their theme of spiritual discovery amidst ruin and strife, this still felt relevant today.
The pleasure in seeing an old film on the big screen was repeated the next night in Dores with the extraordinary Night of the Hunter. No matter how many times one views this gem, it always sets the heart pounding. The pilgrimage in this case is a flight of the innocents threatened by laconically fiendish Robert Mitchum in a performance to rank in any villainous Hall of Fame, until they reach sanctuary, rescued by the luminous spirituality of Lilian Gish, one of the greatest actresses in the history of cinema.
This, the only film Charles Laughton ever directed, was preceded by a little jewel of a documentary by Edinburgh-based Matt Hulse, who used both film and video to record a walk along the South Downs Way to commemorate his grandfather’s life. Accompanied by his girlfriend Lucy and their dog Tippy, the themes of spirituality and pilgrimage were brought right up to date and of course – never act with children or animals – Tippy stole the show by a nose from the warmly likeable Lucy.
Other showings later in the week included Peter Watkins’ Culloden, actually screened at Culloden battlefield, which, as Swinton reminded us, is a sacred site. A party of followers set out to walk there on their own pilgrimage from Dores in a gesture from the heart which was typical of this memorable, inspiring, utterly exhilarating project. Whatever they come up with next, clear your diary.
PS A large bouquet to the unflappable Matt Lloyd whose unobtrusive, self-effacing efficiency ensured a smooth pilgrimage for all.
© Jennie Macfie, 2009
