Living here day by day, you think it's the centre of the world. You believe nothing will ever change. Then you leave: a year, two years. When you come back, everything's changed. The thread's broken. What you came to find isn't there. What was yours is gone. You have to go away for a long time... many years... before you can come back and find your people. The land where you were born….
Alfredo from ‘Cinema Paradiso’
Having wandered to the northwest of England and then the south over the past couple of weeks, this meander brings us back to the northeast and the wonderful Northumbrian town of Hexham, which I've mentioned in a couple of pieces in the past.
I wasn't there this time for the farmer's market, tempting country pubs, historical buildings or magnificent abbey but for the Tyne Valley Film Festival. It's much less grand than any of the 'Big Three' of Venice, Cannes and Berlin and in no way as prestigious as the Sundance or Toronto, for this is a community festival showing a wide range of film classics. It's not just in the town of Hexham, either. There were showings in, for example, the nearby Northumbrian towns of Haltwhistle, Wylam and Allendale and even in the Tyneside Cinema in Newcastle, some twenty miles from Hexham. After all, it is the Tyne Valley festival.
Venues varied, too. Some showings were in cinemas, but also called upon were village halls and a train booking hall (aptly showing the 'Best of British Transport Films'). Another venue was the 'Sill National Landscape Discovery Centre', where again, there was an apt showing of 'Nature Matters' that took viewers on a journey through the archives of Yorkshire and Northeast Film, exploring different environmental stories of Northumberland.
Other films included 'The Old Oak', 'Blade Runner 2049' (not a patch on a favourite of mine, 'Blade Runner'), 'Brazil', 'The Taste of Things', 'Worlds End' and the powerful documentary 'Tish'. It was an eclectic mix across the fortnight of the festival of thirty-six different films shown in fourteen different venues.
One screen classic and another dear favourite of mine was 'Cinema Paradiso'. Written and directed by Giuseppe Tornatore, the film stands as a timeless masterpiece with its poignant portrayal of cinema's transformative power. The director and actors won many awards at festivals worldwide, including Cannes, and the film won the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar in 1989.
For those who may not have seen the film, its setting is a small Sicilian village, and a chronicle of the life of Salvatore ‘Toto' di Vita, a young boy who finds solace and inspiration in the local cinema, 'Cinema Paradiso'. Through Toto's journey in life, the film explores themes of friendship, love, loss, and the enduring magic of cinema. And the magic of the film left its mark on me from my first viewing of it well over thirty years ago. I have lost count of how many times I have seen it since then. Now that I have returned to live in the northeast of England after nearly five decades away, the quotation at the beginning of this piece resonates deeply with me.
Through heartfelt writing, acting and direction combined with evocative cinematography and a stirring musical score by the inimitable Ennio and Andrea Morricone, 'Cinema Paradiso' invites viewers to immerse themselves in the magic of that sacred space where dreams come to life on the silver screen. A place that allows us to escape the mundane realities of everyday life and reminds us of the profound impact that films can have on our hearts and imaginations.
Central to the narrative of 'Cinema Paradiso' is the enduring bond between Toto and Alfredo, the wise and enigmatic projectionist, which transcends age, class, and circumstance. Their friendship is a source of strength and inspiration for Toto as he navigates the trials and tribulations of adolescence, young adulthood and romance, particularly his love for Elena, the daughter of a wealthy businessman. Through these interconnected relationships, 'Cinema Paradiso' explores the complexities of human connection and the profound impact that love and friendship can have on our lives.
As Toto grows from a wide-eyed boy into a young man, 'Cinema Paradiso' becomes a poignant reflection on the passage of time and the bittersweet nature of nostalgia. Through flashbacks, Toto reminisces about his formative years spent in the company of Alfredo, who becomes a mentor and father figure to him. These memories, tinged with joy and sorrow, evoke a longing for a bygone era and simpler life. As we watch the film, it serves as a reminder of the power of memory to shape our identities and illuminate our path forward.
One item on my truly short bucket list (at 67, one must be practicable about such things) is to watch 'Cinema Paradiso' projected on the wall of a building on a warm evening in an Italian village (if you've seen the film, you'll know why). The closest I've come to that aspiration so far is watching the film out of doors in the magnificent Kew Gardens with the stately Kew Palace as a backdrop.
As well as the film screenings, the Film Festival offered the 'Archive Film Trail' around eight venues in Hexham, from cafes to estate agents, pubs and even the grandiose Hexham Abbey, each showing a short piece of archive film in keeping with the role of that venue.
On show in the booking office of Hexham railway station was a time-lapse film of the journey from Gateshead to Hexham, originally made by a student in 1985 for the 150th anniversary celebration of the opening of the section of the railway line from Blaydon, my hometown, to Hexham. This section was the first of what became the first trans-Pennine line linking Carlisle in the west of England with Newcastle in the east. The section of the line between Blaydon and Hexham is exceptionally scenic as it hugs the south side of the River Tyne.
'The Tanner' pub was showing a film with an eye-catching title at first sight - 'The Romance of Leather'. No, it was not that sort of film but one that recognised the importance of leather working to Hexham since the town's earliest days; the leather industry there increased through the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and Hexham became renowned for its gloves known as 'Hexham Tans'. Leather working then went into steep decline, but a slight resurgence is now ongoing.
The Hexham Arts Centre showed a film that would have anyone involved in health and safety going into paroxysms of anxiety, given it was of the Tar Bar’l, a traditional New Year's Eve celebration in the picturesque Northumbrian town of Allendale when whiskey barrels cut in half and full of burning tar are carried on the heads of men as they parade through the narrow streets, crowded with spectators, of the small town.
This film was from 1978, but the ritual has a 170-year history at least. While some believe it began as far back as the Middle Ages, no one knows its origins or why forty-five men, called 'guisers' because of their 'disguise' of sporting colourful fancy dress and outlandish face-coverings, carry those blazing whiskey barrels in a dazzling procession through Allendale.
The Tar Bar’l is one of the most spectacular examples of fire festival events still practised in the UK today. To be involved in the procession, each man must have been born in Northumbria's Allen Valleys, and many have inherited their role as a 'guiser' from earlier generations.
The celebration begins in the evening with music and dancing; then, from 11 pm, the crowds gather in the town centre to see the 'guisers' called upon to do their duty. 11:30 pm, sees the lighting of torches and igniting of the barrels. Each 'guiser' then lifts a flaming barrel onto the top of their head, and all fall in behind the band. At midnight, the procession arrives at the Bar’l fire in the town centre, and the 'guisers' pour the flaming contents of their barrels onto the huge ceremonial bonfire, thus igniting it, as everyone shouts, "Be damned to he who throws last".
While things may change, only one woman has taken part in the tradition to date. In the mid-1950s, Miss Vesta Peart carried one of the barrels in recognition of her creating many costumes for the 'guisers'. Many 'guisers' still wear those same costumes today.
Hexham's 'Gateway to the Community' offered a calmer news clip from 1964 in celebration of the 100th anniversary of what was then the local paper, the 'Hexham Courant' As with many such pieces of the time, the interviews seem stilted to the modern more media savvy eye with those interviewed looking distinctly uncomfortable. However, more than this was their voices. There was no hint of a northern accent from the owner, editor and reporter interviewed. All had clipped, cut glass accents reminiscent of Surrey, not Northumberland. No lilting accent nor inclusion of a 'canny', 'why aye' or 'hinny' etc. The Courant is still around but really should change its name because it's now produced in Carlisle rather than Hexham.
Of all the short films I watched on the trail, my favourite, and those who regularly read my meanderings will not be surprised, was a short film showing the local derby of Newcastle United v Sunderland in the Football Association Cup competition of 1913. Given the age of the film, it was in incredibly good condition, and unlike the film clips of games of ten years earlier, this focused on the action rather than the crowd. People were now keen in news theatres to see something of the game and not themselves on film as had been the case at the turn of the century.
NUFC had lifted the Football League title three times and played in five FA Cup finals, winning once, in the first decade of the new century. The press nicknamed them the 'Edwardian masters'. For Sunderland, it was a similar tale. The so-called 'team of all the talents' had been three-times league champions in the late Victorian era - and once more in 1901-1902. They hadn't yet reached an FA Cup final, but soon would.
The short film captured well the atmosphere of the match and the ebb and flow of the game although telling the teams apart was a challenge. These were the days when teams did not have a multiplicity of different strips, supposedly these days to avoid colour clashes, although selling people multiple kits may also be something of a financial motivation.
As the film was monochrome, Newcastle, in their black and white stripes, blue shorts, and black socks, looked remarkably like Sunderland in their red and white striped shirts, black shorts and black socks with a red top. It called to mind the immortal words of 'whispering' Ted Lowe in a TV commentary of a snooker game broadcast when colour TV wasn't all that prevalent..., "and for those of you who are watching in black and white, the pink is next to the green".
Given the local rivalry between the two teams, it was a packed St James' Park, Newcastle United's ground. The ground was yet to become Sir Bobby Robson's "cathedral of football on the hill" as there was little cover other than in the main stand and that for only those at its rear. Most people are standing, and there isn't a replica football shirt in sight. There is, however, a proliferation of flat caps. Obligatory headgear for men of the northeast. I don't think I ever saw my grandfather outside without headwear. Even if he was gardening and even in the heat of the day. It was a flat cap for ordinary wear and a trilby for special occasions.
Above the flat caps hangs the fug of tobacco smoke, and on this particular day, there was a need for caps as during the game, both rain and sleety snow fell. At one pause in the play, a wag runs on and holds an umbrella over the head of the NUFC goalkeeper.
For those who follow the modern game, one interesting feature was the referee's (nattily dressed in a collarless 'grandad' shirt, jacket and what looks like cut-off trousers rather than shorts) position for a corner kick. In the modern age, they stand at the edge of the penalty area, looking in at the players to spot any misdeed. In 1913, the referee knelt by the near post, looking along the line at the corner taker and then following the ball's trajectory. The Ref would undoubtedly be in the thick of the action if a goalmouth melee ensued.
And to return to my early mention of film creating feelings of nostalgia, one thing that struck me watching that one-hundred-and-ten-year-old film was my recollection of St James' Park from my first visit some fifty years later. In the intervening sixty years, it had little changed. There were fewer flat caps on my first visit, but the strong smell of tobacco smoke still permeated the air, that and newly mowed grass. Most spectators stood, with youngsters nearest the pitch so we could see. And should the heavens open, we all got wet or snowed upon. Yet nostalgia tells me it was magical.
I much enjoyed my visit to the Tyne Valley Film Festival, but I will draw a veil on the football game's result and just offer that NUFC came second that March day in 1913 ….
This article is so interesting, Harry. I’m ashamed to say that I have never visited the North East. One day I hope to remedy this, and your meanders have played a large part in understanding what an omission this has been.
Hexham is a lovely town - I had my first proper English Sunday roast in a pub there. Although I imagine a real English Sunday roast should probably be home-cooked. I was SHOCKED at the amount of food we were given! The film festival sounds delightful...