Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy ii Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy Architecture, Innovation, Labour, Politics, 1930–60 Sarah Street, Tim Bergfelder, Richard Farmer, Sue Harris, Eleanor Halsall, Morgan Lefeuvre, Carla Mereu Keating and Catherine O’Rawe THE BRITISH FILM INSTITUTE Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP, UK Bloomsbury Publishing Inc, 1359 Broadway, New York, NY 10018, USA Bloomsbury Publishing Ireland, 29 Earlsfort Terrace, Dublin 2, D02 AY28, Ireland BLOOMSBURY is a trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published in Great Britain 2026 by Bloomsbury on behalf of the British Film Institute 21 Stephen Street, London W1T 1LN www.bf.org.uk The BFI is the lead organisation for flm in the UK and the distributor of Lottery funds for flm. Our mission is to ensure that flm is central to our cultural life, in particular by supporting and nurturing the next generation of flmmakers and audiences. We serve a public role which covers the cultural, creative and economic aspects of flm in the UK. Copyright © Sarah Street, Tim Bergfelder, Richard Farmer, Sue Harris, Eleanor Halsall, Morgan Lefeuvre, Carla Mereu Keating, Catherine O’Rawe, 2026 Sarah Street, Tim Bergfelder, Richard Farmer, Sue Harris, Eleanor Halsall, Morgan Lefeuvre, Carla Mereu Keating and Catherine O’Rawe have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identifed as authors of this work. For legal purposes the Acknowledgements on pp. xv–xix constitute an extension of this copyright page. Cover design: Louise Dugdale Cover image: Sueddeutsche Zeitung Photo/Alamy This work is published open access subject to a Creative Commons Attribution- NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International licence (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0, https:// creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/). You may re-use, distribute, and reproduce this work in any medium for non-commercial purposes, provided you give attribution to the copyright holder and the publisher and provide a link to the Creative Commons licence. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be: i) reproduced or transmitted in any form, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by means of any information storage or retrieval system without prior permission in writing from the publishers; or ii) used or reproduced in any way for the training, development or operation of artifcial intelligence (AI) technologies, including generative AI technologies. The rights holders expressly reserve this publication from the text and data mining exception as per Article 4(3) of the Digital Single Market Directive (EU) 2019/790 Bloomsbury Publishing Plc does not have any control over, or responsibility for, any third-party websites referred to or in this book. All internet addresses given in this book were correct at the time of going to press. The author and publisher regret any inconvenience caused if addresses have changed or sites have ceased to exist, but can accept no responsibility for any such changes. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress. ISBN: HB: 978-1-8390-2534-1 ePDF: 978-1-8390-2536-5 eBook: 978-1-8390-2535-8 Typeset by Integra Software Services Pvt. Ltd. For product safety related questions contact productsafety@bloomsbury.com. To fnd out more about our authors and books visit www.bloomsbury.com and sign up for our newsletters. http://www.bfi.org.uk https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/ http://www.bloomsbury.com www.bloomsbury.com mailto:productsafety@bloomsbury.com https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0 www.bfi.org.uk Contents List of Figures vi Abbreviations xx A Note on Film References xxiv Authors xxv List of Tables xiv Acknowledgements xv Introduction 1 Part 1 1 British studios, 1930–60 19 2 French studios, 1930–60 55 3 German studios, 1930–60 87 4 Italian studios, 1930–60 129 Part 2 5 Geographical locations, physical environments and infrastructures 169 6 Film studio architecture and design 215 7 Negotiating new technologies 263 8 Transnational collaborations between flm studios 309 9 Labour in the flm studios 357 10 Time and leisure in the studios 407 11 Media representations of flm studios 455 List of Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy 499 Bibliography 504 Index 521 Figures 1.1 Gainsborough Studios, Islington, 1920s. Mary Evans Picture Library 20 1.2 Aerial shot of British International Pictures, Elstree, 1928. Alamy 21 1.3 British Instructional Films studio at Welwyn during construction in 1928. © Historic England. Britain from Above 24 1.4 Motion Picture Almanac studios map, 1937–8. Quigley Publishing: 1057, Public domain 27 1.5 Denham Studios under construction, 1935–6. Alamy 29 1.6 Bomb damage at Teddington studios, 1944. Alamy 35 1.7 Afer closure, the contents of Denham were auctioned of. Alamy 41 1.8 A closed and deserted Denham, 1952. Alamy 42 1.9 Mancunian Studios, Manchester c.1965. Photo: Malcolm Carr 44 1.10 Pinewood Studios 1958. Alamy 48 2.1 Façade of the Cinéromans studios in Joinville-le-Pont at the end of the 1920s. © Fondation Pathé 56 2.2 Advertisement for the Pathé-Natan group published in Le Tout- Cinéma 1931. Public domain 58 2.3 Aerial view of the Paramount studios in Saint-Maurice in 1931. © DR, Collection La Cinémathèque française 59 2.4 Shooting of La Kermesse héroïque at the Tobis studios in Épinay-sur-Seine in 1935. © DR, Collection La Cinémathèque française 63 2.5 Advertisement for the François 1er studios published in La Cinématographie française on 16 November 1935. Public domain 65 2.6 Façade of the Billancourt studios, occupied by Continental Films between autumn 1940 and spring 1944. © DR, Collection La Cinémathèque française 71 2.7 Jean-Paul Le Chanois’ professional identity card. © Musée de la résistance nationale – Champigny-sur-Marne 72 2.8 Jean Marais taking part in the demonstration on 4 January 1948 in defence of French cinema. © Ciné-archives 79 3.1 Original factory building at Babelsberg, 2021. Photograph by Eleanor Halsall 91 Figures vii 3.2 Geiselgasteig, undated image. Alamy 93 3.3 Ufa’s Tonkreuz studio. Alamy 98 3.4 Aerial view of Babelsberg, 1933. Alamy 100 3.5 Main gate at the Tobis studio Johannisthal, 1942. Alamy 101 3.6 Berliner Synchron Dubbing Studio, 2009. Public domain 103 3.7 Bendestorf Film Museum, 2022. Photograph Eleanor Halsall 114 3.8 Göttingen studio in the 1950s. Städtisches Museum Göttingen 115 3.9 Former AFIFA studios in Wiesbaden, undated. Stadtarchiv Wiesbaden. © Stadtarchiv Wiesbaden 118 3.10 Te original administration building at Johannisthal, 2021. Photo: Eleanor Halsall 119 4.1 Pisorno under construction. Archivio Storico della Città di Torino, Archives of Gazzetta del Popolo, sezione VII, b. 1113/0B, no. 010 134 4.2 Cinecittà promotional material, 1940. ARCHIVIO GBB/Archivi Alinari (codice GBB-F-003626-0000) 135 4.3 Mussolini visits Cinecittà during its early stages of construction. Istituto LUCE/Gestione Archivi Alinari, Firenze (codice ARL-S-000004-0046) 136 4.4 Prisoners of war at Cinecittà (c.1943). Archivio Storico della Città di Torino, Archives of Gazzetta del Popolo, sezione VII, b. 1113/3A, no. 001 140 4.5 Scalera studio in Giudecca (Venice), stage 2 interior before refurbishment. Archivio Comunale di Venezia, Protocollo n. 22015/1943 – X/7/7 142 4.6 Scalera studio in Giudecca (Venice), stage 2 exterior. Archivio Comunale di Venezia, Protocollo n. 22015/1943 – X/7/7 143 4.7 Map of the Biennale pavilions used for Cinevillaggio. Archivio Storico della Biennale di Venezia, ASAC 144 4.8 Wardrobe attendants at Cinecittà during flming of Ben Hur. Archivio Storico della Città di Torino, Archives of Gazzetta del Popolo, sezione VII, b. 1113/0A, no. 030 149 4.9 Planimetry of the De Paolis studio. Archivio Storico Intesa Sanpaolo, ASI-IMI-Serie Mutui, pr. ERP 3616 Angelo De Paolis Stabilimenti Cinematografci 150 4.10 Aerial photograph of De Laurentiis’ flm studio Dinocittà. Alamy 152 Figures viii 5.1 Wheat felds surrounding Pisorno, c. late 1930s, early 1940s. Archivio Centrale dello Stato, Segreteria Particolare del Duce, Carteggio Ordinario 1922–43, b. 1236, f. 509752; Forzano, maestro Giovacchino 174 5.2 Aerial view of Göttingen studio, 1950s (undated). Städtisches Museum Göttingen 179 5.3 Lif of the Francœur Studios in the early 1930s. © Fondation Pathé 180 5.4 Te backlot at the Pathé studios in Champigny-sur-Marne near Joinville, in the early 1930s. © Fondation Pathé 181 5.5 Tempelhof studio aerial shot 1935. AKG Images 182 5.6 Aerial view Worton Hall/Isleworth studio, with message to planes visible on roof. © Historic England. Britain from Above 183 5.7 Orenstein & Koppel factory. Image: Benno Orenstein, 1913 184 5.8 Planimetry of industrial flm zone c.1949, Archivio Centrale dello Stato, Fondo Antonio Valente, rotolo 309 186 5.9 When erected, Cinecittà was situated on the outskirts of Rome (1936–7). Alinari archive, LLA-S-000632-0006 187 5.10 Te Fisheries Estate at Denham, 1921. Te house was kept when the studio was built. © Historic England. Britain from Above 188 5.11 A new train route was built to connect Tirrenia and its studio and Pisa. Alamy 191 5.12 Back door of the Francœur Studios on rue Cyrano de Bergerac. © Fondation Pathé 193 5.13 Te bike shelter at Joinville studios. © Fondation Pathé 195 5.14 Bavaria Filmplatz tram stop, 2023. Photo: Tim Bergfelder 196 5.15 Te 457 bus arrives at Pinewood in Full Screen Ahead (1957). Fair use 197 5.16 Te BIP fre brigade at the remains of the British and Dominions studio, 1936. Borehamwood Library, Hertfordshire Libraries 202 6.1 Gainsborough Studios sectional diagram, Bioscope, 12 December 1928: 102. Alamy 216 6.2 Babelsberg – the Great Hall, Ufa. Alamy 219 6.3 Aerial view of the Victorine studios in Nice, 1928. © DR, Collection La Cinémathèque française 222 6.4 Gaumont-British studios, Shepherd’s Bush, London. Alamy 224 6.5 Tempelhof, Studio 2, in 2021. Photo: Eleanor Halsall 226 6.6 ‘Le applicazioni del Vetrofex nella nuova Città Cinematografca di Roma’, Cinema, no. 20, 25 April 1937: 339 228 Figures ix 6.7 Denham Studios exterior from A Day at Denham (1939). Fair use 232 6.8 Denham Studios Art Deco interior, Te Architects’ Journal, 3 December 1936: 774. Public domain 233 6.9 Tonkreuz, designed by Otto Kohtz. Alamy 235 6.10 Pisorno’s main entrance. © Touring Club Italiano, Alinari Archives 238 6.11 Inauguration of the Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografa, 1940. Alamy 239 6.12 Aerial view of the Cinéromans studios in Joinville in the late 1920s. © Fondation Pathé 242 6.13 Alexander Korda and his technical crew flming Rive gauche in front of the Paramount Studios villa in the rue des Réservoirs, March 1931. © Paramount France 242 6.14 Cinecittà’s early model, Architettura, no. 4 (1943): 107. Biblioteca di Archaeologia e Storia dell’Arte, Ministry of Culture, Rome 244 6.15 Hans Poelzig unbuilt ‘doughnut’ design. Architekturmuseum der TU Berlin. Public domain 247 6.16 Design by Otto Bauer for the Cité du cinéma in Mougins, L’Architecture d’aujourd’hui, no. 4, April 1938: 80. Public domain 250 7.1 Te Pathé delegation received by Robert Florey at Paramount’s Astoria studios on 8 June 1929. © Fondation Pathé 267 7.2 Lilian Harvey requests silence. Alamy 270 7.3 Sound engineer in his cabin at the Tobis studios in Épinay, in the early 1930s. © DR, Collection La Cinémathèque française 271 7.4 Cinefonico’s planimetry and music scoring room, Architettura, no. 4 (1943): 110. Biblioteca di Archeologia e Storia dell’Arte, Ministry of Culture, Rome 273 7.5 Te former Geyer printing laboratories in Berlin, 2023. Photo: Tim Bergfelder 278 7.6 Jack Cardif and Geofrey Unsworth with Technicolor camera, 1945. Alamy 281 7.7 How back projection worked, illustrative diagram, 1934. Alamy 286 7.8 Sunlight Switchboard, Elstree, 1940s. Alamy 287 7.9 Te duel in the snow, War and Peace (1956). Fair use 288 7.10 Otto Baecker and Konstantin Irmen-Tschet suspended on a crane in the studio at Babelsberg, 1930. Alamy 289 7.11 Mobile platform for vertical dollies built at the Billancourt studios for Le jour se leve (1939). Photo: Raymond Voinquel © GP-RMN 290 Figures x 7.12 Plaster fgurines used to represent the audience in a theatre model in the Neuilly studios. © DR, Collection La Cinémathèque française 291 7.13 Interior of miniature building at Cinecittà, 1956. Bettmann/Getty 292 7.14 Te Duomo of Milan reproduced with detail at Cinecittà. Archivi Alinari 293 7.15 Hein Heckroth and design for Te Red Shoes, 1947. Alamy 293 7.16 Cramped conditions of the studio at Heiligengeistfeld, c. 1952. Alamy 295 8.1 Erich Pommer. Alamy 311 8.2 Die Nacht gehört uns (1929). Alamy 312 8.3 Marlene Dietrich in the Paramount studios courtyard in 1931. © Paramount France 314 8.4 Willy Fritsch and Dita Parlo in Melodie des Herzens (1929). Alamy 316 8.5 Letter from Paul Azaïs to Marcel Pagnol sent from the Pension Imperial in Berlin. Fonds de dotation Marcel Pagnol 317 8.6 Marta Eggerth in Casta Diva (1935). Bridgeman images 319 8.7 Alexander Korda with Marlene Dietrich and Jacques Feyder at Denham, 1937. Alamy 322 8.8 Xenophobic humour in We’ll Smile Again (1942), with Denham rebranded as New World Films Studios. Fair use 323 8.9 Preparatory meeting of the cast and crew of the flm L’Aventure est au coin de la rue (1943). © DR, Collection La Cinémathèque française 324 8.10 Pagewood Studios, Sydney, 1937. Royal Australian Historical Society 327 8.11 Mario Zampi on set, unknown location, 1930s. Giuliano Zampi 328 8.12 Imperio Argentina in Andalusische Nächte (1938). Alamy 332 8.13 Orson Welles shooting Othello at Scalera studios. Bridgeman images 341 8.14 Extras for Ben Hur at Cinecittà (1958). Bridgeman images 342 8.15 French director René Clair and Italian producer Salvo D’Angelo in Rome in 1951. © Sam Levin/RMN-GP 344 8.16 Greer Garson during the production of Te Miniver Story (1950) at MGM-British. Alamy 346 9.1 Reception and maintenance teams at Paramount Studios in Saint-Maurice (c.1931). © DR, Collection La Cinémathèque française 360 9.2 Editor at work, Germany 1938. Alamy 362 Figures xi 9.3 Women checking positive stock in the development and printing department of the Istituto LUCE, Cinespettacolo, no. 8–9, 1949: 18. Fair use 363 9.4 Director Jacqueline Audry on the set of Les Malheurs de Sophie (Sophie’s Misfortune, 1945) in the Victorine studios in 1945. © Sam Lévin/RMN-GP 364 9.5 Director Maria Teresa Ricci Bartoloni, on the set of La principessa del sogno (Te Princess of Dreams, 1942) 365 9.6 British set designer Roger K. Furse and art director Carmen Dillon on set of Hamlet in 1947. Alamy 366 9.7 Women at work on the set of Divieto di sosta (No Waiting, 1941). Archivio Storico Città di Torino, Archives of Gazzetta del Popolo, box 5559 368 9.8 Workbook for a Garderobiere (female dresser). Bundesarchiv, R109-I/2799 376 9.9 Dressing room for male extras at Ufa Babelsberg, 1933. Alamy 381 9.10 Workers on strike in the Billancourt studios in June 1936. © DR, Collection La Cinémathèque française 382 9.11 Te flm sector on strike in Piazza del Popolo in Rome, Cinema, no. 10, 1949: 296 385 9.12 Bendestorf Studio sign reminding of the dangers of working at height, 2022. Photo: Eleanor Halsall 386 9.13 Elstree fre, Te Daily Mirror, 10 February 1936: 14. Public domain 387 9.14 Fire at Denham Studios, 1936. Mauritius 388 9.15 Fame is the Spur (1947), camera crane shot. Alamy 390 9.16 Sacha Guitry’s crew trying to warm up around a brazier in the Buttes-Chaumont studios during the flming of Le Fabuleux destin de Désirée Clary (Mlle Desiree, 1942). Ciné-Mondial, 6 February 1941. Public domain 391 10.1 Elizabeth Taylor and Robert Taylor, tea break on set of Ivanhoe (1952). Alamy 413 10.2 Sophia Loren and John Wayne eating American-style on the set of Legends of the Lost (1957). Bridgeman Images 415 10.3 Otto Kohtz. Design for canteen at Ufa-Stadt. Architekturmuseum der TU Berlin, Inv. Nr. 9680 417 10.4 Bar of the Cinecittà restaurant, 1930s. Bridgeman Images 418 10.5 Cines restaurant menu as shown in Stella del cinema (1931). Fair use 422 Figures xii 10.6 Extras waiting in the courtyard of the Saint-Maurice studios during the flming of Madame Sans-Gêne (1941). © Roger Parry/ RMN-GP 423 10.7 Winter journeys with Kraf durch Freude (Strength Trough Joy), Alamy 427 10.8 A New Journey for ‘Healthy Youth build a new Germany’. FDJ poster from 1946. Alamy 428 10.9 Denham Sports and Social Club notice board. Alamy 432 10.10 British and Dominions football team, 1934. Kinematograph Weekly, 19 April 1934: 20. Public domain 433 10.11 Mosaic on the wall of the DEFA day care centre at Johannisthal, 2021. Photo: Eleanor Halsall 435 10.12 Marcel Pagnol and Josette Day picking potatoes and tomatoes in the courtyard of the Marseille studio. © Marcel de Renzis, La Collection-CCIAMP 436 10.13 Prince Sidi Hassan (future King of Morocco), aged 4, visits the Joinville studios in the company of two directors of the Pathé- Natan company. © Fondation Pathé 441 10.14 Princess Elizabeth meets Chips Raferty on visit to Ealing studio, 1946. Alamy 442 10.15 Esther Asséo, winner of the Cinémonde competition, welcomed in the Joinville studios in December 1932. © Fondation Pathé 443 10.16 Screenshot from We, the Women, showing the girls eating lunch on the sound stage. Fair use 444 11.1 Te reveal in Dora Nelson (1935). Fair use 458 11.2 Die große Sehnsucht (1930). Fair use 462 11.3 Inside the studio, Britannia of Billingsgate (1933). Fair use 464 11.4 Denham, augmented by a matte, in I Know Where I’m Going! (1945). Fair use 465 11.5 Architectural drawing of carpenters’ shop at Teddington. Richmond Local Studies Archive, PLA00855 466 11.6 Te iconic entrance of Cinecittà in Viale della Speranza (1953). Fair use 467 11.7 Regulation of entry to Titanus studio in Siamo donne (1953). Fair use 468 11.8 Scrawls on the wall outside the soundstage in Bellissima (1951). Fair use 469 Figures xiii 11.9 Te ghostly backlot of Cinecittà in La signora senza camelie (1953). Fair use 470 11.10 Te flm set in Le silence est d’or (1947). © Sam Lévin/RMN-GP 473 11.11 Cover of Zwischenfall im Fernsehsender (Te Incident in the TV Studio, 1953). Photo: Eleanor Halsall 479 11.12 Illustration from Woman of the Night, Pour Vous, 6 December 1934. Public domain 483 11.13 Cover of Ins Zauberreich des Films (Into the Magical Kingdom of Film, 1930). Photo: Eleanor Halsall 486 11.14 Cover of Der Junge mit der grossen Klappe (Te Boy with the Large Clapperboard, 1949). Photo: Eleanor Halsall 487 11.15 Listing for Hold Tat! in Radio Times (5 January 1934: 57). © Radio Times 488 11.16 A feature in L’Écran français, 1951, on the shooting of the flm Agence matrimoniale. L’Écran français no. 326, 10–16 October 1951. Public domain 492 Tables 1.1 Statistics of British Production/Studios 29 3.1 Sound Film Production in Germany, 1926–32 102 4.1 Growth in Italian Film Production, 1937–42 138 6.1 Major German Studios and Architects 218 6.2 Major British Studios and Architects 230 6.3 Major Italian Studios and Architects/Engineers 237 6.4 Major French Studios and Architects 241 9.1 Studio Employment in the British Film Industry 359 9.2 Employment by Gender in British Studios, BFPA Figures 367 9.3 Pay Scales for Italian Studio Workers 1959 (Men) 369 9.4 Pay Scales for Italian Studio Workers 1959 (Women) 370 9.5 New Pay Scales Annexed to Incom Contractual Agreement, 1959 371 9.6 Contractual Details for Drei wunderschöne Tage 379 Acknowledgements Tis project received funding from the European Research Council (ERC) under the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme (grant agreement No. 832346-STUDIOTEC). As a team we have worked closely together throughout its duration, at times through difcult circumstances including the challenging years of the Covid-19 pandemic when our joint enterprise, blog writing for the STUDIOTEC website and regular online contact helped to sustain our morale. We have since enjoyed visiting archives in person, meeting as a team, presenting conference papers and sharing our research broadly with those interested in flm studios. We would like to thank our STUDIOTEC team members for their excellent contributions to other project outputs: Andrew Calway and Amy Stone (University of Bristol) and Fraser Sturt (University of Southampton). Below we list the many archives, institutions and people who have helped us and provided invaluable support for our research into the fascinating and varied histories of the studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy. Archives and Institutions Britain BBC Written Archive Centre, Caversham Bill Douglas Cinema Museum, Exeter Te Bodleian Library, Oxford Te British Film Institute, London Te British Library, London Buckinghamshire Archives, Aylesbury Cambridge University Library, Cambridge East Sussex and Brighton and Hove Record Ofce, Brighton and Hove Elmbridge Museum, Esher London Metropolitan Archive Met Ofce National Meteorological Archive, Exeter Acknowledgements xvi Te National Archives, Kew, London Parliamentary Archive, Westminster Te Prudential Group Archives, London RIBA Library, London Richmond Local Studies Library, London Surrey History Centre, Woking Transport for London Corporate Archives, London University of the Arts, London France Archives de la Cinémathèque française (Paris) Archives de la Cinémathèque Suisse (Lausanne) Archives départementales des Alpes maritimes (Nice) Archives départementales des Bouches-du-Rhône (Marseille) Archives départementales de Seine-Saint-Denis (Bobigny) Archives départementales du Val-de-Marne (Marne-la-Vallée) Archives diplomatiques (Nantes) Archives Françaises du Film (Bois d’Arcy) Archives municipales de Boulogne Billancourt Archives municipales d’Épinay-sur-Seine Archives municipales de Marseille Archives municipales de Neuilly-sur-Seine Archives de Paris Archives nationales (Paris) Bibliothèque La Contemporaine (Nanterre) Bibliothèque Nationale de France (Paris) Fondation Jérôme-Seydoux-Pathé (Paris) Fonds de dotation Marcel Pagnol (Allauch) Iconothèque de la Cinémathèque française (Paris) Mediathèque du Patrimoine et de la Photographie (Charenton-le-Pont) Germany Bavaria Film GmbH (Christian Franckenstein, Stefan Bryxi) Bayerisches Hauptstaatsarchiv Munich Bendestorf Film Museum (Sven Simonsen) Acknowledgements xvii Bundesarchiv Berlin-Lichterfelde (Adelheid Hefberger) CineGraph – Hamburgisches Centrum für Filmforschung Deutsche Kinemathek Berlin Deutsches Filminstitut und Filmmuseum Frankfurt Filminstitut Hannover Filmmuseum Potsdam (Ralf Forster) Friedrich-Wilhelm Murnau Stifung (Marcel Heinlein) Landesarchiv Berlin Nationalbibliothek Frankfurt (Christoph Schöbel) National Film Museum Amsterdam (Nita Smits) Staatsarchiv Hamburg Staatsbibliothek Berlin Staatsbibliothek München Stadtarchiv München (Bettina Pfotenhauer) Stadtarchiv Wiesbaden (Sebastian Adelson) Studio Babelsberg Ufa-Fabrik Berlin Italy Archivio ANICA (Rome) Archivio Centrale dello Stato (Rome) Archivio Comunale (Venice) Archivio Siciliano del Cinema (Palermo) Archivio Storico Capitolino (Rome) Archivio Storico della Biennale di Venezia Archivio Storico della Città di Torino Archivio Storico Diplomatico, Ministero degli Afari Esteri e della Cooperazione Internazionale (Rome) Archivio Storico Intesa Sanpaolo, Patrimonio Archivistico IMI (Acilia, Rome) Archivio Storico Intesa Sanpaolo, Patrimonio Banca Commerciale Italiana (Milan) Associazione Italiana per le Ricerche di Storia del Cinema (AIRSC) Biblioteca Luigi Chiarini, Fondazione Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografa Biblioteca Renzo Renzi, Cineteca di Bologna Acknowledgements xviii Cineteca Lucana (Oppido Lucano) Fondazione Museo Nazionale del Cinema (Turin) Istituto LUCE – Cinecittà studios Margaret Herrick Library, Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences (Los Angeles) Società Umanitaria Cineteca Sarda (Cagliari) Ufcio Anagrafe del Comune di Lugo People Britain Melanie Bell (University of Leeds), Howard Berry (Te Elstree Project), Charlotte Crofs (University of the West of England), John Ellis (Royal Holloway, University of London), Brian R. Jacobson (California Institute of Technology), Lucy Mazdon (Birkbeck, University of London), Kristian Moen (University of Bristol), Angela Piccini (University of Plymouth), Lizzie Tynne (University of Sussex), the staf of Twickenham Film Studio. France Alexandre Alajbegovic (Fonds de dotation Marcel Pagnol), Joël Daire (Cinémathèque française), Nicolas Pagnol (Fonds de dotation Marcel Pagnol), Stéphanie Salmon (Fondation Pathé). Germany Rolf Aurich (Berlin), Ivo Blom (Amsterdam), Hans-Michael Bock (Hamburg), Wolfgang Dittrich-Windhüfel (Freiburg), Jeanpaul Goergen (Berlin), Adelheid Hefberger (Berlin), Torsten Hoppe (Hannover), David Kleingers (Frankfurt), Rainer Matsutani (Heidelberg), Wolfgang May (Berlin), Harry Mehner (Berlin), Dietrich Neumann (Brown University, Rhode Island), Sigrid Niemer (Berlin), Daniel Otto (Berlin), Volker Reißmann (Hamburg), Peter Stettner (Hannover), Philipp Stiasny (Berlin), Michael Töteberg (Hamburg), Elizabeth Ward (Berlin), Michael Wedel (Potsdam), Eike Wolf (Babelsberg), Erika Wottrich (Hamburg). Acknowledgements xix Italy Luigi Cabras (Cagliari), Michela Campagnolo (Venice), Matilde Capasso (Rome), Lucia Cardone (Sassari), Mariapia Comand (Udine), Giancarlo Concetti (Rome), Nadia De Conciliis (Rome), Anna Rita Conte (Rome), Francesco Di Chiara (Ferrara), Daniela Garbuglia Massidda (Rome), Mauro Genovese (Turin), Barbara Goretti (Rome), Judith Kranitz (Venice), Kristine Krueger (Los Angeles), Rossella Laria (Milan), Gaetano Martino (Oppido Lucano), Sabina Massetti (Rome), Massimiliano Montanari (Lugo), Leonardo Musci (Rome), Paolo Noto (Bologna), Francesca Ortolano (Turin), Mino Pieralisi (Palermo), Francesca and Giuliano Zampi (London). Abbreviations AA/PA Auswärtiges Amt Politisches Archiv ABPC Associated British Picture Corporation ACI Alleanza Cinematografca Italiana ACS Archivio Centrale dello Stato di Roma ACT Association of Cine Technicians AD Archives Départementales AdP Archives de Paris AGF Arbeitsgemeinschaf Film AM Archives Municipales AMPAS Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences AN Archives Nationales ANICA Associazione Nazionale Industrie Cinematografche e Afni AOG Gesetz zur Ordnung der nationalen Arbeit ASC Archivio Storico Capitolino ASI Archivio Storico Intesa San Paolo ATC Associazione dei Tecnici del Colore ATIC Associazione Tecnica ltaliana per la Cinematografa e la Televisione B&D British and Dominions BArch Bundesarchiv BDM Bund Deutscher Mädel BIP British International Pictures Abbreviations xxi BoT Board of Trade BRD Bundesrepublik Deutschland CCC Central Cinema Company CCG Control Commission for Germany CF Cinémathèque Française CLCF Comité de Libération du Cinéma Français CO Carteggio Ordinario COIC Comité d’Organisation de l’Industrie Cinématographique CR Carteggio Riservato CS Cinémathèque Suisse CSC Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografa CST Commission Supérieure Technique D&P Denham and Pinewood Studios Ltd DAF Deutsche Arbeitsfront DDR Deutsche Demokratische Republik DEFA Deutsche Film Aktiengesellschaf DGB Deutsche Gewerkschafsbund DGC Direzione Generale per la Cinematografa DK Deutsche Kinemathek ECA Economic Cooperation Administration EFA Europäische Film-Allianz GmbH ENAC Ente nazionale per la cinematografa ENIC Ente Nazionale Industrie Cinematografche ERP European Recovery Program ETU Electrical Trades Union FDGB Freie Deutsche Gewerkschafsbund Abbreviations xxii FILS Federazione Italiana Lavoratori dello Spettacolo FJSP Fondation Jérôme Seydoux-Pathé FNS Fédération Nationale du Spectacle FNSAFF Fédération nationale des syndicats d’artisans français du flm FULS Federazione Unitaria Lavoratori dello Spettacolo G-B Gaumont-British GFFA Gaumont-Franco-Film-Aubert HJ Hitler Jugend HST Hamburger Staatsarchiv IE Ispettorato Edilizio IFU International Film Union ILO International Labour Ofce IMI Istituto Mobiliare Italiano KdF Kraf durch Freude MHL Margaret Herrick Library MLV multi-language version MNC Museo Nazionale del Cinema NATKE National Association of Teatrical and Kine Employees NDR Norddeutscher Rundfunk NS National Socialist NSBO Nationalsozialistische Betriebszellenorganisation NSDAP Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei OFAU Oriental Film Artistes’ Union OFS Organizzazione Filmistica Siciliana OND Opera Nazionale Dopolavoro PAGU Projektions-Aktiengesellschaf Union Abbreviations xxiii PCM Presidenza del Consiglio dei Ministri RAI Radio Audizioni Italiane (later, Radiotelevisione italiana) RSI Italian Social Republic RTF Radio Télévision Française SASP Società Anonima Stefano Pittaluga SGTIF Syndicat Général des Travailleurs de l’Industrie du Film SMAD Soviet Military Administration SPD Segreteria Particolare del Duce SPIO Spitzenorganisation der Filmwirtschaf STO Service du Travail Obligatoire SWR Südwest Rundfunk TNA Te National Archives UCI Unione Cinematografca Italiana Ufa Universum-Film Aktiengesellschaf UFI Ufa-Film GmbH (1942–5) UNRRA United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration       A Note on Film References 1. Te standard citing for flms with a foreign language title is the original title in italics, followed by a non-italicised English title in brackets; e.g La Route est belle (Te Road is Fine, 1929). Te English title can be either the ofcial release title or a literal translation.  2. English titles are omitted where the original title refers to a name or a place that does not need a translation, or where the original name is commonly used in English; e.g:  La strada; Das Boot.  3. Co-productions and MLVs (multi-language versions) are cited with the respective titles in italics divided by a forward dash; e.g. Casta Diva/ Te Divine Spark (1935); Der Kongreß tanzt/Congress Dances/Le congres s’amuse (1931); Imbarco a Mezzanotte/Stranger on the Prowl (1952). Usually, the language of the country where the flm (or the majority of it) was shot is cited frst. 4. Remakes of the same flm are listed separately: Tredici uomini e un cannone (1936); Dreizehn Mann und eine Kanone (1938); Tirteen Men and a Gun (1938).       Authors Sarah Street is Professor of Film at the University of Bristol, UK. Her publications include Colour Films in Britain: Te Negotiation of Innovation 1900–1955 (2012) and Deborah Kerr (2018). She was the Principal Investigator on the ERC Advanced Grant STUDIOTEC (2019–25), collaborating with this book’s co-authors. Tim Bergfelder is Professor of Film at the University of Southampton, UK. His publications include Stars and Stardom in Brazilian Cinema (2018) and Te German Cinema Book (2020). Richard Farmer is Lecturer in Film and Media at University College London, UK. His publications include Te Food Companions: Cinema and Consumption in Wartime Britain, 1939–45 (2011) and Cinema and Cinema-going in Wartime Britain, 1939–45: Te Utility Dream Palace (2016). Eleanor Halsall is a Visiting Academic at the University of Southampton, UK. She has previously contributed to Te German Cinema Book (2020) and Die Kamera im Fokus (2024). Sue Harris is Professor Emerita of Film Studies at Queen Mary University of London, UK. Her publications include Bertrand Blier (2001) and An American in Paris (2015). Morgan Lefeuvre is an independent flm historian and lectures at the University of Lausanne, Switzerland.  Her publications include Les Manufactures de nos rêves, les studios de cinéma français dans les années 1930 (2021). She recently undertook a research project on Marcel Pagnol. Carla Mereu Keating is Honorary Senior Research Associate at the University of Bristol, UK. She is the author of Te Politics of Dubbing (2016). Catherine O’Rawe is Professor of Italian Film and Culture at the University of Bristol, UK. Her publications include  Stars and Masculinities in Italian Cinema (2014) and Te Non-Professional Actor: Italian Neorealist Cinema and Beyond (2024). xxvi Introduction Sarah Street Film studios have always been integral to flm production, from the glasshouses of silent cinema to today’s global operations which are fast incorporating virtual production methods. Even when flms are primarily shot on location, studio facilities are still required. Establishing a controlled physical environment has the advantages of reducing the inherent risks involved in flm production. While flm studios are architectural spaces designed to support the interconnected functions of pre-production, production and post-production, this book demonstrates that they are this, and much more. We investigate flm studios across four major European production sites: Britain, France, Germany and Italy. While existing scholarship on studios mostly concentrates on Hollywood’s famous studio system organized around major companies that are household names, our focus is on the variety of Europe’s many diferent studio complexes in key decades of their sound-era operation from 1930 to 1960. Our research is rooted in perspectives that challenge the idea that illusory screen worlds are created in ‘invisible’ physical environments by those whose work also tends to be efaced. Animated by materialist historiographies and methods, the book’s methodology is underpinned by the idea of tectonics as a metaphorical way into understanding the studios’ multiple, stratifed, shifing experiences as architectural spaces, diverse working and social environments, and locations for innovation. A tectonic approach emphasizes how studios can be thought of as containing multiple zones of collaborative activities, adaptable materials, and spaces that shif from production to production. It drives the methodology’s emphasis of comparing structures over time, and also the themes selected for Chapters 5–11. While studios ofen recede from visibility to make way for the illusion of cinema, they are emphatically material sites embedded within the histories of technology and architecture, quasi-utopian designs on efcient labour, Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy 2 and moments of political and economic crisis and transformation. Departing from the common identifcation of studios with production companies and their outputs, we conceptualize studios as structures shaped by planners, engineers, and designers focused on the creation of screen worlds within bespoke or more standardized architectural and technological environments. Behind a studio’s exterior structures and public image, a complex network of functional spaces enabled workers, processes, and technologies to harness creativity. Our research brings the heritage of European studios into visibility. We focus on the key decades 1930 to 1960 when studios were subject to profound change, including re-structuring following the introduction of sound; conforming to the imperatives of political regimes, and negotiating major economic challenges following the Second World War. Today many of these historic structures no longer exist or have been adapted as new homes or theme parks; their changed functionality conceals the complexity of their pasts that are in danger of being entirely forgotten. We recover the many diferent architectural models that existed, mapping transnational fows of labour and expertise. We chart a flm studio’s multiple activities and the spectral, rarely acknowledged histories of alternate uses of their premises, including as refugee and prisoner of war camps or as locations for industrial research and development. A comparative approach ensures that responses to both common and nationally specifc challenges in the four diferent countries are scrutinized. While the flm histories of the individual countries are relatively well known, actively comparing them through studios is a new departure. Film studios as physical environments and architectural spaces have not featured as the subject of extensive analysis compared with flm movements, directors and the genres of popular cinema. While Hollywood has been widely studied, structures operating outside its famous system are rarely acknowledged.1 Te term ‘studio system’ generally refers to Hollywood flmmaking, particularly during the period 1914–60 when production, distribution and exhibition were dominated by an oligopoly of a few powerful companies which derived most of their power from owning cinemas so that production could be fnanced out of box-ofce profts. Te major companies competed at the production level, but there was little or no competition regarding distribution or exhibition because they had carved up areas of geographic concentration, producing an overall system which thrived on innovation tempered by standardization, a great degree of stylistic symmetry, mass production and consumption. Tey also established subsidiaries in Europe to maximize overseas profts and support ‘runaway’ productions. To what extent Europe’s studios were organized around 3 Introduction a similar logic is a key question posed by this book. Our research evidences the considerable diversity which existed in the range of examples we examined, and it is certainly the case that there were diferent approaches to studio design and location, as well as a greater reliance on a rental economy for studio space than existed in Hollywood. Te literature on European studios is dominated by a particular model of popular, well-illustrated books that concentrate on linear developments, listing key flms, directors and associated stylistic movements. In the British context these concentrate on individual studios or general surveys, with the exception of investigative works such as by Treadgall on Shepperton and Street on Pinewood.2 Te situation is similar in the case of Germany, with studies of individual company trajectories, principally Ufa (and its East German successor Deutsche Film Aktiengesellschaf, DEFA) and its facilities at Potsdam Babelsberg.3 Te distribution and hierarchy of studios across both East and West Germany in the post-war period has not been documented in a comprehensive way. Apart from a very detailed, archival-based study of French studios in the 1930s by Morgan Lefeuvre, and Sarah Street’s book on Pinewood Studios, there are no sustained, academic histories of studios in the 1940s and 1950s.4 A number of shorter accounts reference particular French studios and their local geographies.5 Publications on Cinecittà Studios in Italy tend towards richly illustrated accounts of flms, genres, and nostalgia for the ‘golden age’ of Italian cinema, with the exception of Sara Martin’s study of its architect Gino Peressutti.6 However, work on the Titanus studios in Italy has been more detailed, due to the rich nature of available documentation.7 In relation to the more global arena of studio activity, Goldsmith and O’Regan’s analysis focuses on ‘the contemporary enthusiasm in various parts of the world to build, renovate, or re-develop large-scale studios capable of hosting high-budget, ofen special-efects-driven English-language feature flms’.8 Teir consideration of foundational, historical contexts, however, serves only as background for analysing the contemporary scene in the early twenty- frst century. Jacobson’s edited collection In the Studio covers a broader scope of countries, periods and contexts which have been infuential in our research.9 In terms of methodology, we also draw inspiration from Jacobson’s earlier pioneering scholarship on early flm studios in the United States before ‘the system’ became institutionalized, and on those in France.10 Tis is suggestive of the rich benefts of conceptualizing studios as multi-functional architectural spaces which framed, facilitated and enacted imaginative responses to the environment and technological change. Jacobson argues that studio architecture 4 Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy is ‘the always present but rarely visible frame that lies just beyond the visual feld’, while also noting that it has played ‘a key, but rarely acknowledged, role in the history of flmmaking’.11 Rather than seeing studios as more or less static constructions, our approach further highlights the signifcance of structural changes and how these contributed to the successes, failures, risks and disasters that had profound impacts upon technologies, labour and creativity. Seeing far beyond a studio’s company logo thus opens the doors to the factories and spaces of the imagination which constituted European cinema at a time when it was a highly signifcant industry and the most popular mass entertainment. Te book’s 1930–60 time frame represents the high-point of intensive, studio- based European flm production during which key issues were confronted within the four major production sites. Tese include the impact of technological change such as the coming of sound cinema in the early 1930s; changing fows in transnational labour and collaboration, particularly during the Fascist period; and the relationship between studios of diferent sizes and locations. By 1960 studios were typically evolving into more devolved structures, following three decades as relatively self-contained production environments. Although the larger studios such as Pinewood in the UK, Billancourt and Joinville in France, facilities at Potsdam-Bablesberg in Germany or Cinecittà in Italy were dominant enterprises, the book uncovers the range of models that existed from 1930 to 1960, including smaller structures that catered more towards artisanal modes of production. By comparing the similarities and diferences between architectures, personnel, methods, infrastructures and technologies, we examine the organization of creative labour and technologies within national and transnational contexts. Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy were closely related to ideas of nation. Prevalent contemporary discourses about studios recognized their fundamental importance to a nation’s flmmaking capacity, especially when impacted by economic recession or political crises. Te desire for a strong flm industry was shared to a greater or lesser degree by all four countries’ governments. As the overview Chapters 1–4 demonstrate, Germany and Italy’s fascist regimes sought to control flm production through studio ownership, censorship and other totalitarian policies which had a profound impact on studios. While in Britain and France state intervention was less dominant, during the Second World War flm gained strategic importance as a vital organ of propaganda. During the Nazi occupation of northern France from 1940 to 1944 the German-owned company Continental Films produced many flms which were closely monitored by German censorship. Films were thus deeply 5 Introduction embedded within national identities, economic development and cultural policies, and studios were at the heart of their creation. European flm industries reacted to Hollywood’s aggressive flm export drive but there was considerable variance in their approaches to establishing national and transnational alternatives. In the extreme, fascism enabled Germany and Italy’s flm industries to be independent while fostering or enforcing collaborations between their studios. Te German occupation of France, in addition, had an impact on French studios during wartime. Hollywood remained a constant competitor in Britain which infuenced studio organization and equipment supply. In many respects Hollywood was seen as a successful model to be emulated while seeking to contain the scope of its international ambitions. Our source material includes archival documentation, the press, trade publications, architectural plans, as well as available oral histories. Te extent of existing archival documentation however varies from country to country, and we have had to consult a plethora of interrelated sources to obtain a detailed understanding of how the studios functioned. Photographs and flms have also been a crucial aspect of our research for investigating what existing visual records reveal about locating studios more precisely within local geographic contexts. Aerial photographs in particular show studios in relation to surrounding local geographies as well as how they changed between diferent decades. When studio plans are no longer available, aerial images also reveal a complex layout and structure. Photographs of studio interiors enable us to see how they were organized, especially for studios which no longer exist or are now used for other purposes. Tey also provide a crucial means of documenting and understanding many technologies and processes which may now be obsolete or have changed signifcantly. Photographs bring to life, as it were, the working lives of the people who worked in the studios as distinct communities which constituted a flm studio’s culture. Contemporary sources demonstrate the extent to which studios were ofen of great interest to reporters, including those commenting on studios in diferent countries. As our thematic chapters show, there were similarities and diferences between these, sometimes with considerable consequences for productivity and how flms were made. Te diversity of sources we have used has required a range of methodological approaches to be deployed, from flm historical analysis to architectural theory and use of GPS data. Part of our work has also involved re-creating studios (Denham, Joinville, Tonkreuz Babelsberg, and Cinecittà) using VR and 3D imaging technologies, and these have informed our understanding of the studios’ comparative spatial confgurations and uses 6 Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy over time. Tey have also enabled us to acquire greater phenomenological understandings of the spaces, how workers moved through them and their sheer complexity.12 To fully capture the comparative experience of the studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy, the book’s structure is divided into two parts. Part 1 (Chapters 1–4) provides historical overviews of developments in each of the four countries through surveys of how the studios generally operated, while highlighting their respective national specifcities. Each chapter sets out the main chronological developments that afected studios, referring to their locations, structural organization and how they were impacted by common factors such as adjusting to sound cinema in the 1930s; the tumultuous impact of the Second World War; post-war recovery and realignment to 1960. Te accounts of the four countries indicate other interesting similarities and diferences. In terms of the structure, shape and geographic spread of studios, for example, these were mostly in place by 1930 in both Britain and France. Two major new facilities – Denham and Pinewood  – opened in Britain in 1936, but these bolstered the basic structure of many diferent studios concentrated to the west of London. No major new studios were opened in France during the 1930s; existing larger and smaller studios constituted the production infrastructure. A studio rental culture was evident in Britain and France, whereas in Italy and Germany from the 1930s monopoly by the state concentrated power and control in the major studios. Cinecittà, the Italian fascist regime’s fagship studio in Rome, was opened in 1937, and Babelsberg outside Berlin became the major location of production in Germany. In the post-war period studio infrastructure in Germany was decentralized with the East–West political division, and new studios were created in regions outside Berlin where the flm industry had formerly been primarily concentrated. Berlin’s major studios survived but there were limits on their capacity to monopolize flm production. In Italy new studios also developed outside the capital in the post-war period but studios in Rome were nevertheless renovated and reconstructed. Of all the structures and systems, Britain’s was most infuenced by Hollywood, in part due to the common language which afer the coming of sound cinema was accentuated even more than it had been in the silent era. Hollywood showed an interest in Europe’s studios; trade publications ofen reported on conditions there, not least to assess the export market and local competition. British studios relied quite heavily on American equipment, and Hollywood was encouraged to invest in making flms in British studios. Wider transnational collaboration was evident, to lesser and greater 7 Introduction degrees, between the countries, particularly France and Italy, and also between Germany and France. Part 1 provides context for Part 2 (Chapters 5–11) which is organized around thematic areas within which all four countries are referenced and compared. Te frst named author for each of these chapters led on organizing the material relating to the theme in question. Te themes refect signifcant areas which highlight the studios as: buildings specifcally located within particular physical environments and infrastructures; architectural designs; engines of technology and innovation; environments conducive to transnational collaboration; communities of labour; social spaces within which workers organized a range of leisure activities; and as photogenic sites which were documented in flms, newsreels and fction  – media which refect how studios were the subject of public fascination. Te following remarks are intended to serve as a contextual introduction to the themes of Chapters 5–11, explaining our logic in using them as a means of taking readers, as it were, inside the studios to examine why they were built in particular regions, what they looked like internally and externally, and how they functioned as workspaces but also as spaces where leisure and other activities could take place. Te book’s themes have enabled active comparisons between the four countries to be mobilized, by applying our layered, tectonic approach to studio development in terms of location, space, place, time, identity and community. Tey have stimulated us to expand our understandings of the studios, drawing on knowledge and concepts in related disciplines, such as architecture, geographical science, social history, technological and labour history. By approaching studios as sites of multiple experience involving human and non-human ‘actors’, we have aimed to bring to the fore their diferent and complex ontologies. Although the fctional worlds created by flmmakers on backlots and sound stages could exist beyond the bounds of conventional time and space, the studios within which they were created could not. Understanding the importance of the spatial siting of flm studios in the four countries, for example, has enabled us to explore the ways in which the physical infrastructure of and activities associated with flm production were shaped by, and interacted with, specifc places. Rather than existing apart from their immediate local environments, studios were in a constant process of negotiation with macro-level factors such as the climate, which had an infuence on architecture, equipment and working practices, to more localized considerations such as proximity to transport infrastructure. Te process, though, was essentially dialogical, and studios could shape their surroundings and vice versa. 8 Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy While it has been important to focus on groups of workers and professionals working within studio complexes, studios also functioned as far-reaching networks involving businesses, accountants, professional societies and individuals working in related employment but with connections to a studio’s wider economy. Although they were securely embedded within specifc locales, studios maintained complex socio-economic relationships with the people and institutions that surrounded them. Also, wider processes of urban growth led to studios being enveloped by the cities on or beyond whose boundaries they were initially built  – for example, the Cines studios in Rome  – whilst the erection of new studios could, in conjunction with other factors, spur the construction of new housing and industrial buildings in places such as Elstree and Borehamwood to the north of London. In Germany, the development of the Babelsberg studios to the south of Berlin formed part of the wider urban and infrastructural changes in the region. Te process was also dynamic, and innovations in the technologies and processes of flmmaking brought about changes to the ways in which studios interacted with the spaces around them, such as how the conversion to sound generated new challenges for studios built near railway lines or airfelds. Jacobson has noted that: ‘As a hidden necessity for illusory forms of cinematic and televisual production, [studios] were ofen present but rarely noticed’.13 Yet within their local geographies, studios were primarily architectural buildings with specifc histories, and with ofen striking external and internal design features. Our aim to open studios’ doors, to study where they were located as well as how they functioned, has involved detailed consideration of their physical infrastructures, as well as how they operated over time. Tis allows us to gain vicarious access to studios, to appreciate something of what it was like to work in them, and to understand their role as symbols of twentieth-century modernity and aspiration. Studios ofen required complex designs to ensure that their functions of pre-production, production and post-production fowed seamlessly by, for example, ensuring the efcient delivery of cumbersome set materials to stages, planning the strategic operation of equipment for creating efects and in the processing laboratories. Assessing the extent to which flmmakers’ working practices were shaped by a studio’s layout in creating spatial relationships between diferent phases of production has been an important driver for our research. In foregrounding the studios’ materiality, and the people who designed and worked in them, the book draws on foor plans, aerial photographs and other images that help us to understand studios as physical structures, as buildings with their own histories and ‘narratives’ within the built environment. Jacobson’s work on early 9 Introduction studios in Hollywood has drawn attention to how some appropriated visually striking architectural styles that cultivated corporate identities.14 As examples of industrial architecture, we have also investigated their association with established architectural styles such as Art Deco and the types of buildings their architects designed prior to studios. While studio structures ofen resembled factories, their architectural styles could be diverse. Some were monumental structures bearing the imprint of well-recognized architectural styles which stood out in the regions where they were situated, such as the innovative modernism of Cinecittà in Italy which is still celebrated today. By taking architecture and design as foundational determinants of studio activity in diferent national contexts, we have aimed to expand the notion of what studios are and have been as various models were generated. Te diferent varieties of studio design ofen aspired towards ‘ideal’ structures in a process of trial and error as architects in the four countries experimented with form, technology and materials. Te changing imperatives for studio design in the 1930s following the rapid arrival of sound, for example, was a common driver of change. Existing studios were reconfgured and reconstructed, and some were newly built for a new sonic landscape that afected their material fabric, structures and equipment in profound and long-lasting ways. To some extent, facing common challenges generated transnational co-operation, knowledge transfer or competition. Our comparative focus, identifying the key experts, labour and infrastructural networks required for construction, sustainability and development, has uncovered how specialists from each country responded to studio developments outside of their immediate environments. In addition, the book refects on the studios’ architectural legacies; how they were ofen re- purposed in periods such as during the Second World War, and in subsequent decades when some were converted to luxury apartments, ofces or theme parks. Former studio buildings ofen celebrate their past flm heritages, such as the site of Gainsborough Studios in London which was converted into housing in 2004. Te premises include a commemorative plaque and large sculpture of Alfred Hitchcock’s head, in celebration of the British studios where he started his career in the 1920s. Although they may no longer function as ‘flm factories’, the buildings nevertheless retain an aura which gestures to their on-going status within cultural heritage, even if their specifcs have somewhat receded from public perception. Once inside the studios, it has been important to understand them as environments designed to promote creative energies within established physical structures, generating hierarchies of labour and diverse working methods that 10 Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy aimed to reduce the risks of flm production. Studios never stood still; they were afected by many external pressures. Tey were, to a greater or lesser degree, in a constant state of having to respond to change, whether it be technological, structural or relating to labour. Time has therefore been a key theme running through the book. As well as being infuenced by place and space, studios were subject to temporal rhythms: constraints, windows of opportunity, beginnings and endings. Troughout the period 1930–60, studios were workshops of invention which experienced the introduction of new sound technologies, colour and the rise of television. Teir spaces also hosted new advancements in lighting and special efects for the creation of realistic and fantastical sets. Our book highlights the emergence of studio flmmaking conventions while also identifying what made each country, and each studio, unique in their negotiation of technological change, including how technologies changed and impacted the studios’ material structures and working practices. But these were subject to multiple contingencies; studios could not always control the rate at which they were required to introduce new equipment and methods, nor who would be involved in the process or the results. Rather than being self-contained workshops, studios then emerge as vectors, drawing upon a wide range of interests from equipment manufacturers and electrical suppliers to make-up companies and paint experts. Analysing how these ‘systems’ functioned and on occasion malfunctioned, challenges the standard view of studios as relatively discrete workplaces, which has led to a greater understanding of their place within regional, national and transnational economies, as well as expanding notions of creative and professional expertise. We argue that technological inventions were transnational, international as well as place-bound, as they travelled across borders and were implemented in the four countries at diferent speeds and temporalities. Te fndings are informed by theories of how technologies develop and are negotiated across time and space, ofen in a non-linear manner and ofen subject to political infuences or even coercion. Change was not always linear, or indeed progressive. By considering the agencies behind the application of new technologies, a clearer understanding of studios in diferent time periods thus emerges as integral to understanding the shifing dynamics of industrial, socio-economic and cultural–artistic transformation. Te extent of transnational collaboration between the four countries is one of the book’s central themes. Our comparative focus has involved tracing relations between diferent national flm studios, while noting the degree to which studios were imbricated within a collaborative culture that resisted 11 Introduction conventional national boundaries. We have been particularly struck by the extent of collaboration, more so than has previously been appreciated. Some instances are well known, such as how the advent of sound in the late 1920s facilitated a boom in transnational production initiatives in European studios, initially focusing on the practice of multi-language versions (or MLVs). Although Britain had originated this practice, in France and Germany MLVs became most prolifc, leading to close collaborations that continued throughout the decade. Alongside pan-European developments, bilateral synergies, such as between Italy and France, or between Germany and Austria, were also common. Rather than using historical events and economic trends as contextual background, our book emphasizes how they impacted on the diferent studios’ operations materially. We have uncovered new perspectives on how transnational exchange was unwittingly prompted during tumultuous events, including Hitler’s rise to power in 1933 and the exodus of Jewish flm personnel, which accelerated the movement of flmmakers across European borders. Tis in turn forged new or strengthened collaborations, such as between Axis allies Italy and Germany. Meanwhile, the crisis and bankruptcy of production companies such as Pathé or Gaumont forced many French professionals to work in British or Italian studios. Te outbreak of the Second World War created both voluntary and coerced mobility of flm personnel across diferent countries. Mobilized workers in Allied and occupied countries, for example, were recruited to work in German studios, while prisoners of war were kept in camps adjacent to the production facilities and used for menial tasks. In Italy, Cinecittà was used to house POWs from 1943 and later in the war as a Displaced Persons camp until 1947, with some of the inhabitants being employed as extras in flms produced there. Similarly, the Geiselgasteig studios near Munich provided displaced refugees with a temporary home in the immediate post-war years. In this way the histories of the studios as adaptable structures take on multiple signifcance, as they interacted with historical developments; this has emerged as a recurring, ofen disturbing theme. Te general tendency of the inner workings of studios to be absent from the historical record has also obscured recognition of their signifcant workforce in national, labour and women’s histories. Studios employed many people, including producers, directors, cinematographers, editors, set and costume designers, make-up artists, administrators, canteen staf, carpenters etc. With our aim to bring this large, diverse workforce into fuller visibility and with greater recognition of expertise, the book shows how studios employed a variety of professions and skillsets, their working conditions and trade union 12 Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy activity. Across the four countries we show how this large, diverse workforce was subject to diferent sets of internal regulations, wage structures, benefts, conventions, political allegiances and legislation. Te book scrutinizes prevalent issues, including the extent of transnational collaboration and opportunities for émigré artists to work in diferent European studios before and afer the Second World War. Within the studios there were ofen disparities in labour status such as between substantive and precarious work, as well as discrepancies in pay, benefts and social standing. A central theme we have tracked is the development of opportunities for women, as well as the transnational mobility of workers and changing attitudes towards them. Film studios are ofen seen primarily as technical facilities for flm production. But they were also spaces of learning, work, training, leisure, sociability and welfare for thousands of flm workers. While studios were symbols of corporate identities to outsiders, for employees there was another, perhaps more domestic perspective. Within this theme we show how the management of time in the daily lives of studio workers was experienced. As already noted, time was of crucial importance in the lives of the studios and their workers. Time management is a major issue in flm production, fuctuating between periods of overactivity and periods of calm or even complete shutdown. Looking closely at working time in the studios including duration, night work, extra hours, this clearly acted as a central topic in the claims of studio workers, particularly during trade union campaigns for reducing working hours. But studios were not just places of work: in the four countries we have also uncovered documentation on how studio spaces were used during periods of relaxation and socialization for artists, technicians and workers; how the various spaces and services dedicated to the well-being of employees functioned, including dressing rooms, foyer, restaurant, bar and sports facilities. By ofering their employees a wide range of services, leisure and sports activities, the studios sought to improve their working and living conditions, but also in some cases to control them, to reinforce their loyalty and sense of belonging. In many instances the places and modes of sociability reveal the importance of social and professional hierarchies within the studios, such as the restaurants which at Denham, as in Cinecittà, Joinville and Babelsberg, were divided into diferent spaces to accommodate separately workers and extras, junior technicians, stars, directors and department heads, with diferent menus and prices. Even so, in researching the studios as social communities we have gained a greater sense of them as people working collectively within a highly specifc production environment but also with common interests in spending 13 Introduction their leisure time together. In this way we hope to communicate an empathetic proximity to the historical world of the studios and the people who worked and socialized in them. Te cultural currency of the studio as a site of public fascination is a major theme of the book, extending to how studios featured in flms, magazine articles, radio broadcasts and novels such as detective thrillers. Studios were spaces of aspiration and desire, and this was associated with their physical reality and symbolic associations. Te ways in which studios documented their own histories, such as through documentary flms, which promoted their status as creative workshops and monumental architectural structures, is testament to their role in national cultures. While these constitute crucial evidence of what functioning studios looked like and, to some extent, how they were designed, the flms also record what contemporaries thought of studios as a source of national pride in their ambitions to compete with Hollywood. In addition to studio-produced documentaries, many newsreels featured footage of studios which, as in Germany and Italy during the 1930s, ofen overlapped with regime propaganda. Fiction flms featured narratives about studios, with some using flm studios as sets. As well as providing valuable sources for the studio layouts in particular periods, these fctional representations show the position the flm studios occupied in the cultural imaginary. Access to hallowed studio spaces was indeed a rare experience for flm fans, unless you were the lucky winner of a competition in a fan magazine and the prize was to visit the studios. Although studios were generally closed to the public, they regularly welcomed outside visitors and became privileged spaces for receptions and social events attended by numerous personalities from the political, economic and cultural worlds. Trough these numerous events, studios became showcases of national production, occupying a central place in the development of European flm industries but also in the imaginations of flm fans. In 1939 a documentary flm was released in British cinemas entitled A Day at Denham. It gave viewers rare glimpses into how a modern flm studio operated, only a few years afer its opening in 1936. Te flm included footage of extras queueing up outside the main buildings; workers clocking on for a day’s work; editors attending to post-production; scenes being shot on the studios’ spacious backlot, and the workshops where sets were under construction. Studios were clearly part of the popular imagination, and as researchers we have been similarly fascinated by their diferent spaces, imposing architectural designs and sheer technological complexity. Bringing together the histories of studios in Britain, 14 Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy France, Germany and Italy has been an exciting and rewarding enterprise, and we remain in awe of the people who devoted their lives to flm production, ofen in adverse, challenging circumstances. While it is impossible to visit studios no longer operating, and those still functioning have developed considerably since our end point of 1960, their historical traces in archives, images, flms and as documented in the contemporary press have brought them, their workers and activities back to life. As studios enter a new phase of technological development in the digital, AI-dominated era, their histories provide insights into how they have adapted in the past as major hubs of creative enterprise which deserve better understanding of their fundamental place in flm history. Notes 1 See David Bordwell, Janet Staiger and Kristin Tompson, Te Classical Hollywood Cinema: Film Style and Mode of Production to 1960 (London: Routledge, 1985); Douglas Gomery, Te Hollywood Studio System: A History (London: British Film Institute, 2005); Tomas Schatz, Te Genius of the System: Hollywood Filmmaking in the Studio Era (New York: Pantheon, 1988). 2 George Perry, Movies from the Mansion (London: Pavilion Books, 1986); Gareth Owen, Te Pinewood Story: Te World’s Most Famous Film Studio (Richmond: Reynolds and Hearn Press, 2006); Kiri Bloom Walden, British Film Studios (Oxford: Shire Publications, 2013); David Treadgall, Shepperton Studios: An Independent View (London: British Film Institute, 1994); Sarah Street, Pinewood: Anatomy of a Film Studio in Post-war Britain (Cham, Switzerland: Palgrave Macmillan, 2024). 3 Wolfgang Jacobsen, Babelsberg: Ein Filmstudio 1912–1992 (Berlin: Argon, 1992); Klaus Kreimeier, Die Ufa-Story. Geschichte eines Filmkonzerns (Munich and Vienna: Carl Hanser, 1992); Hans-Michael Bock and Michael Töteberg, Das Ufa-Buch (Hamburg: Zweitausendeins, 1994); Axel Geis (ed.), Filmstadt Babelsberg – Zur Geschichte des Studios und seiner Filme (Potsdam: Filmmuseum Potsdam, 1994); Michael Wedel, Chris Wahl and Ralf Schenk, 100 Years Studio Babelsberg: Te Art of Filmmaking (Kempen: teNeues Verlag GmbH, 2012); Rainer Rother and Vera Tomas (eds), Linientreu und popular: Das Ufa-Imperium 1933–1945 (Berlin: Bertz und Fischer, 2017). 4 Morgan Lefeuvre, Les manufactures de nos rêves: Les studios de cinema français des années 1930 (Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2021); Street, Pinewood: Anatomy of a Film Studio. 15 Introduction 5 Christian Brieu, Laurent Ikor and J. Michel Viguier, Joinville, le cinema: le temps des studios (Paris: Ramsay, 1985); Anne-Elizabeth Dutheil de la Rochère, Les Studios de la Victorine, 1919–29 (Paris: Editions de la Maison des Science de L’Homme, 1998); Anthony Slide and Harry Waldman, Paramount in Paris: 300 Films Produced at the Joinville Studios, 1930–33 (Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press, 1998); Georges Guarracino, L’Ecran Provençal: histoire et géographie du cinema en Provence-Côte D’Azur (Saint-Rémy-de-Provence: Editions de l’Equinoxe, 2006). 6 Oreste Del Buono and Lietta Tornabuoni (eds), Era Cinecittà: Vita, morte e miracoli di una fabbrica di flm (Milan: Bompiani, 1979); Federico Fellini, Un regista a Cinecittà (Milan: Mondadori, 1998); Franco Mariotti and Claudio Siniscalchi, Il mito di Cinecittà (Milan: Arnoldo Mondadori Editore, 1995); Sara Martin, Gino Peressutti: L’architetto di Cinecittà (Udine: Forum Edizioni, 2013). 7 Aldo Bernardini and Vittorio Martinelli, Titanus. La storia e tutti i flm di una grande casa di produzione (Milan: Colosseum, 1986); Guido Barlozzetti, Stefania Parigi, Angela Prudenzi and Claver Sallizzato, Modi di produzione del cinema italiano: la Titanus (Rome: Di Giacomo, 1986); Francesco Di Chiara, Generi e industria cinematografca in Italia. Il caso Titanus (1949–1964) (Turin: Lindau, 2013). 8 Ben Goldsmith and Tom O’Regan, Te Film Studio: Film Production in the Global Economy (Oxford: Rowman & Littlefeld, 2005), xi–xii. 9 Brian R. Jacobson (ed.), In the Studio: Visual Creation and its Material Environments (Oakland: University of California Press, 2020). 10 Brian R. Jacobson, Studios Before the System: Architecture, Technology, and the Emergence of Cinematic Space (New York: Columbia University Press, 2015). 11 Ibid., 2–3. 12 To access the STUDIOTEC VR content: http://data.bris.ac.uk/data/dataset/ ykm0vzmsq7pm2hnysh7wagw4v 13 Jacobson, In the Studio, 4. 14 Brian R. Jacobson, ‘Fantastic Functionality: Studio Architecture and the Visual Rhetoric of Early Hollywood’, Film History, 26, no. 2 (2014): 52–81. http://data.bris.ac.uk/data/dataset/ykm0vzmsq7pm2hnysh7wagw4v http://data.bris.ac.uk/data/dataset/ykm0vzmsq7pm2hnysh7wagw4v 16 Part 1 18   1 British studios, 1930–60 Richard Farmer and Sarah Street By 1930, the British flm production sector had assumed the shape and many of the characteristics that would defne it for much of the rest of the century. Although flmmaking facilities were operational at places such as Brighton and Torquay into the 1920s, most studios were located in and around London, with most major new studios afer 1930 built outside the city proper. Proximity to the capital allowed studios to make use of actors who worked in West End theatres – British flm stars without theatrical or music-hall backgrounds remained comparatively rare for many years, much to the chagrin of some observers1 – and also the technical and creative personnel employed by such theatres and the creative industries associated with them. As the British flm industry emerged, grew and developed in the last years of the nineteenth century and early decades of the twentieth, the places where flms were made underwent signifcant changes. Indeed, the need  – and sometimes the failure  – to adapt in the face of new technologies, changing economic and political circumstances and evolving employment practices has been a constant feature of British flm studios throughout their history. Initially, flmmakers made use of the sun to light their flms, working either on outdoor stages or in glasshouse studios. Both of these options presented problems, particularly in relation to the unreliability of natural light, and Britain’s damp climate, cloudy skies and short winter days. Electric lights were used frst to augment the sun, and then to replace it; flmmakers found it easier to control their working environments in ‘blacked out’ buildings, the frst of which was opened in 1914 at Elstree by the Neptune Film Company. Te production facilities used by the Gaumont-British company exemplify the early evolution of British studios: having started making flms on an external lot in Dulwich, south London c.1902, a glasshouse studio was built Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy 20 at Shepherd’s Bush in 1913–14, which was in turn blacked out and converted into a sound stage in 1928–9, while permanent sound-proofed buildings were erected when the studio was signifcantly expanded in the 1930s.2 Purpose-built studios were not uncommon, but a number of early British studios were converted from buildings erected for other purposes – Islington (opened 1920) was a former power station, while Cricklewood (opened 1920–1) had previously been an aeroplane factory. Away from industrial sites, country houses and/or the estates that surrounded them were also adapted for flmmaking purposes – see, for instance, Worton Hall in Isleworth and the more modest Weir House in Teddington. Te country house tendency became more pronounced in the 1930s with the erection of studios at Shepperton/Sound City, Figure 1.1 Gainsborough Studios, Islington, 1920s. Mary Evans Picture Library. British studios, 1930–60 21 Denham and Pinewood, each of which represented the kind of ambitiously sized studio that, before the construction of the BIP facility at Elstree in the mid- 1920s, had been largely absent from the British production landscape. Even though most of them were situated in the capital or in a semi-circle to the west of London, there were some concerns that British flm studios were too dispersed to function efectively as an industry. Only at Elstree, a small town in Hertfordshire about 15 miles north-west of central London and home to four studios in 1930, and another two by the mid-1950s, was there any signifcant concentration. In early 1928, a contributor to the Daily Film Renter noted that in contrast to Hollywood, where studios were more tightly clustered, ‘we should have to draw a very big circle indeed to encompass them all. I fail to see, should the demands of production warrant it, how this ever-widening circle could be co-ordinated into an inter-dependent organisation.’3 Such a comparison is just one example of the way that American flm  – ‘Hollywood’  – dominated both cinema screens and industrial discourse in Britain. Believing that greater co-operation and concentration might provide a better chance for domestic producers to counter the US incursion, national Figure 1.2 Aerial shot of British International Pictures, Elstree, 1928. Alamy. Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy 22 studio schemes were proposed in the mid-1920s at Brighton and on the site of the recently concluded Empire Exhibition at Wembley. Both came to naught.4 It was also felt that forging an identity for the British production industry capable of capturing the public imagination in a manner similar to Hollywood might help organize the sector and assist in marketing it around the world. Indeed, a number of towns and cities were proposed as sites of putative ‘British Hollywoods’, the derivative name indicative of the hold the American industry had over British ideas of what a flm industry and, indeed, a flm studio might look like. When the Hollywood Reporter established its ultimately short-lived British ofshoot in 1936, it settled for the generic London Reporter as its title, seemingly unable to come up with anything better able to conjure up the image of the British production sector.5 In 1932, ‘Bestwich’ – formed from the initials of the most important British studios plus ‘H’ to introduce an element of Hollywood glamour  – was proposed but never caught on.6 Elstree was probably the closest that the British studios came to fnding a collective name. Te Observer noted that ‘“Hollywood and Elstree” is a generic term covering all English-speaking pictures’,7 and there is some evidence that the name carried a certain cachet, both in Britain, where occasionally letters would be posted to ‘Ealing Studios, Elstree’,8 and the Dominions.9 Tat said, in the late 1920s one studio owner hoped to change the name of the station at Elstree to ‘Hollywood, Herts.’, making clear the balance of power between the British and American production centres.10 Te introduction of sound toward the end of the 1920s caused a major rupture in Britain’s flm studios while at the same time galvanizing them in a short period of time to reconfgure studio spaces and equipment and collaborate with European partners for multi-lingual co-production, initiatives which lasted only for a short time as far as the UK was concerned.11 In 1928 there were nineteen stages in British studios with a total area of 105,211 sq. f of foor space.12 By the end of 1932 many new stages had been built, bringing the total to thirty-three, and the total foor space had almost tripled to c.310,000 sq. f.13 Talkies cost more to produce, and the equipment needed to prepare studios for sound recording was expensive. Te 1927 Cinematograph Films Act, with its spur to British production via the mechanism of annual quotas for renters and exhibitors to handle and show a percentage of British flms (initially 7.5 per cent for renters and 5 per cent for exhibitors, both rising in stages to 20 per cent by 1936), attracted investors to back new flm companies, many of which were speculative ventures for those with little experience in flm fnance.14 British studios, 1930–60 23 By 1930, the transition from silent to sound production in the British flm industry was largely complete. Te speed with which British studios went over to sound ofered some opportunities, in particular the production of flms in languages other than English for markets where studios had yet to make the switch.15 Studios had to acquire new equipment and be re-purposed for the challenges of sound technologies and many of the new ventures were soon liquidated. Studios that had formerly been noisy were now geared towards silent methods which did not interfere with sound recording equipment. Tis recalibration afected the material fabric of studios as walls and ceilings were lined, roofs made airtight, and foors reinforced; new studios such as the A.R.P. Studios at Ealing were steel-framed with solid brick walls to keep out as much noise as possible. Some older British studios did not survive this change, either because they were unsuited to the demands of the new methods of production, because the cost of soundproofng and installing recording equipment was beyond their owners’ means, or because the fnancial returns that might be expected from their continued operation outstripped the necessary investment. Te elevation of sound recording to a fundamental element of flm production changed the relationship that studios had with their surroundings; those situated next to railway lines or airfelds, for example, had not previously had to worry particularly about the noise made by such facilities – stopping that same noise from spoiling takes now became vitally important. Te timing of the changeover to sound, coming as it did hot on the heels of the implementation of the 1927 Cinematograph Films Act, might actually have served to temporarily stall some of the gains it was expected would follow the coming of the quota. Knowing that British silent features would fnd it extremely challenging to compete against American sound flms, domestic studios were compelled to invest signifcant fnancial resources in converting to sound production as quickly as they could. However, it was not always easy to get the necessary equipment, studios were unproductive while they were adapted, and it took time for personnel to learn how best to incorporate sound’s creative possibilities into commercial flmmaking.16 As a stopgap, several silent flms were retroftted with partial soundtracks.17 Most British studios installed American sound recording equipment; the RCA system was most popular, although Western Electric was used at the British and Dominions studio in Elstree, for example. Gaumont-British made use of its own British Acoustic system at Shepherd’s Bush, while Visatone, also British, was installed at Cricklewood. German Klangflm equipment was installed at Wembley, as it Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy 24 Figure 1.3 British Instructional Films studio at Welwyn during construction in 1928. © Historic England. Britain from Above. was at Welwyn, but did not prove successful, and when the latter studio came under BIP control it was replaced by BIP’s own Ambiphone system, which the company used alongside RCA.18 Te passing of quota legislation led to renewed optimism: from a low of thirty-four British-produced flms in 1926, output rose to 200 a decade later.19 Facilitating this increase, and also stimulated by it, was greater investment in British studios. Te British economy in general had been sluggish for most of the 1920s and many British production facilities remained undercapitalized in relation to their American counterparts, not least because of the difculties associated with getting British flms into British cinemas. With exhibitors now legally obligated to set aside a proportion of screen time for domestically produced flms, British studios and production companies attracted greater amounts of investment, much of it speculative in nature. Tis would have repercussions in the 1930s.20 Moreover, for all that the 1927 Act is dismissively remembered for the poor quality of the ‘quota quickies’ whose production it British studios, 1930–60 25 prompted, it also increased competition, allowed for better fnanced and larger production companies – the vertically integrated Associated British and Gaumont-British combines emerged in the wake of the Act – and so permitted, in certain circumstances at least, a greater degree of artistic and commercial risk-taking in British production.21 Te British production industry was not as badly afected by the Great Depression as other sectors of the economy, in part because of the nature and the protected status of the products it made. Although some exhibitors recorded a downturn in admissions, especially in areas of high unemployment,22 British consumers wanted cinematic entertainment, and the quota ensured that a proportion of that would be British. Indeed, while British producers’ seeming lack of engagement with questions of unemployment and economic precarity have been laid at the door of a censorship apparatus that discouraged flms from showing Britain in a negative light, it might also have been the case that for many people working in British flm production the slump seemed quite a distant prospect, confned to other parts of the country and concentrated in particular in heavy industries. Tat said, companies such as Gaumont-British (G-B) that undertook building work in this period were keen to stress the jobs that they were supporting in other parts of the country: ‘the thousands of tons of steel used in the new buildings has provided work for hundreds of men in Lanarkshire [and] along Teeside.’ Tis was, G-B stressed, a studio built in Britain by British workers, ready to produce British flms and support the British economy: ‘we … fnd satisfaction in the knowledge that we are doing our bit towards relieving the present unhappy condition of the labour market.’23 Just as it afected physical and technological elements of the studio, the coming of sound also changed the practice of flmmaking. Te need to minimize extraneous noise led to the camera being encased in a special soundproof box, which reduced its mobility, and also to changes in lighting, as arc lights and carbon lamps – loud enough to be picked up by the BBC’s microphones during a live broadcast from Shepherd’s Bush in March 192624– were replaced by quieter incandescent lights. Art designers needed to take acoustic factors into account while ensuring that sets still appealed to the camera. Such changes were, however, simply part of a continual process of creative innovation and evolution; just as sets were dismantled and make-up removed at the end of a shoot, so the studio itself was constantly changing, reworked and reimagined in an attempt to keep up with the latest aesthetic trends, technological innovations and creative practices. Sound changed the studios; so too would colour, widescreen and television, amongst other things. Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy 26 Te 1930s Te 1930s was a decade when the impact of state legislation acted as a spur to the flm industry’s expansion and consolidation, resulting in the development of existing studios and the building of new, state-of-the-art facilities. Tere were also intermittent periods of uncertainty and contraction due to the coming of sound cinema in the late 1920s, fnancial instability, and tensions caused by Anglo-American flm and diplomatic relations. By the end of the decade the flm industry’s fundamental studio infrastructures were in place, and these were at the heart of debates on economic performance, government policy and the role of flm in the wider world. Te common language shared between the UK and the United States, now audible for the frst time in cinemas, exacerbated long-standing fears about ‘the Hollywood invasion’. In 1938 about 35 per cent of Hollywood’s gross income came from abroad, mainly from the British Empire.25 Te aim to boost production in Britain was in part motivated by the desire to show more British flms in the Empire and Commonwealth, as articulated at Imperial Conferences held throughout the decade. As well as serving as propaganda vehicles, it was hoped entertainment and instructional flms would increase demand for British goods (‘trade follows the flm’), as was thought to be the case with American flms’ display of products and lifestyles. Tis placed emphasis on studios as strategically important industrial workshops for the promotion of British goods and culture overseas. A deputation of the Federation of British Industries’ Film Group and the Trades Union Congress to the President of the Board of Trade in 1932 articulated these interdependent aims ‘of telling the world about our lives, our culture, our institutions, our industries … It is only in the entertainment branch of the industry that we are ever likely to fnd the studios, the expert technical personnel, and the most up-to-date equipment without which efcient production of educational, cultural and industrial flms will always be impossible’.26 Films made in the Empire counted as British quota flms (but not when the Act was renewed in 1938), a provision which encouraged an expansive idea of what constituted a ‘British’ studio. Te imposition of domestic quotas in countries such as Australia, however, did not result in a quid pro quo in a market that was considered the best for British flms outside the UK.27 Tis caused frustration and placed further emphasis on reciprocal schemes to screen British flms in overseas markets and vice versa. Tese nationalist aims inspired much of the rhetoric around studio building, bigger budgets and ‘quality’ flmmaking that was necessary to attract investors. British studios, 1930–60 27 Tis expansive culture helped to create a positive environment for signifcant infrastructural studio development. Gaumont-British was re-launched with new sound studios built at Lime Grove, Shepherd’s Bush in 1930–1, Sound City built a new studio at Shepperton in 1932 that was signifcantly enlarged in 1936, and Twickenham was rebuilt in the mid-1930s. Te building and opening of Denham and Pinewood, two major new studios, in 1936 attracted much publicity as fagships for the British flm industry. Denham had seven stages totalling 110,500 sq. f of stage area while Pinewood had fve stages totalling 72,000 sq. f foor space. Te Denham complex included laboratories, and both studios had their own powerhouses and extensive ‘backlots’ that could be used for exterior flming. Tey were located quite close to each other and formed part of a ring of studios built to the western side of London to avoid the fog and congestion of the capital. Studios situated in this ring included British Lion, Beaconsfeld; the various studios located at Elstree; Nettlefold, Walton-on-Tames; Associated Talking Pictures, Ealing; Worton Hall, Isleworth, and Sound City, Shepperton. Te Gaumont-British studios at Shepherd’s Bush were distinguished by being located closer to central London and with a vertical architectural structure. Te new studios involved degrees of American participation: Denham was linked through London Film Productions to US distributor United Artists and Pinewood through Figure 1.4 Motion Picture Almanac studios map, 1937–8. Quigley Publishing: 1057, Public domain. Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy 28 General Film Distributors to Universal Studios. Former Paramount executive Charles H. Bell advised on the planning of the Amalgamated Studio at Elstree, and American expert Jack Okey who designed First National and Paramount Studios in Hollywood, advised on the building of Denham and Pinewood. An American report concluded that in the UK erecting studios was ‘the reverse of wildcat’ and that it was ‘a safe generalization that money invested in studio buildings is well invested’.28 Tis was certainly the view of the Prudential Assurance Company which provided much of the capital to build Denham. Notwithstanding patriotic, imperialist motivations, the prevailing ‘model’ of studio activity was invariably the Hollywood studio system. Te principle of production companies being primarily located in a particular studio was thought to provide stability whereas in Britain studio space was ofen rented out to diferent companies for short periods of time. Tis more peripatetic system meant that the studios were more vulnerable to high turnovers of labour and insecure working conditions. Managing the immediate demands of diverse tenants could impair long-term planning and leave stages idle for periods of time. Phil Tannura, a cinematographer who spent ten years working in studios in Britain and France, recorded his impressions, having returned to Hollywood in 1940. He thought British studios were very well equipped, noting special features such as metal set-platforming and very good negative development in laboratories, and that Denham compared very favourably with Hollywood’s studios.29 Ray Rennahan, Technicolor cinematographer who worked at Denham on Wings of the Morning (1937), also considered the studio to be ‘on a par with any in Hollywood’ and that it was well equipped with new, mostly American equipment.30 Harry Lachman, an American director who worked for Fox and spent time in Britain and France, concentrated on the diferences between Hollywood and Europe’s studios with their smaller budgets and tendency to employ people on short-term contracts.31 Specialists from France and Italy were also interested in developments in Britain, particularly when Denham opened, producing reports such as by French set designer Lucien Aguettand who considered that at Denham ‘everything was built according to a logical plan whose initial object has been to distribute the various services and premises in the most rational way and for the best use’.32 While later reports tended to praise Pinewood’s more compact layout and covered walkways, without a doubt the building of new studios in the mid-1930s resulted in more international commentary than the British flm industry had so far attracted. Te substantial increase in studio space meant that by 1937 there were twenty-three studios with a total foor area of 781,202 sq. f.33 Tese British studios, 1930–60 29 Figure 1.5 Denham Studios under construction, 1935–6. Alamy. Table 1.1 Statistics of British Production/Studios Statistics of production/studios 1928 1935–6 Stages, total area sq. f 19 stages; 105,211 70 stages; 795,557 Value studios and equipment £555,000 £4,414,500 Annual salaries/wages (exclusive of artistes) £197,250 £2,197,000 No. flms and production cost 91 @ £489,600 225 @ £5,344,500 developments represented a high point of studio development in Britain, and a move towards establishing the British flm industry as a genuine competitor with Hollywood. Evidence presented to a committee appointed by the Board of Trade to review the 1927 Cinematograph Films Act showed that progress had been made, as refected in the expansion of studio space, equipment, employment and rise in production costs.34 A major fnancial crash, based on an insecure method of insurance policies to guarantee loans from banks to flm producers, however, halted this upward trend when many of the new flm companies that had been registered as speculative Film Studios in Britain, France, Germany and Italy 30 ventures collapsed when they could not repay their loans.35 Te consequent production slump meant that in 1938 many studio stages were idle: in June, six studios with twenty-seven foors were reported as vacant.36 Te management of Denham Studios was criticized by the Bank of England, an institution that conducted a major enquiry into the flm industry in 1937, but the idea to form a Films Bank with the Bank’s support was ultimately rejected. At the same time, emphasis was placed on the renewal of the Films Act as a means of resuscitating the ind