The Man Who Filmed the Somme

The Hyde Park Picturehouse, one of the UK's oldest

We have invited this audience to watch a film whose release

attracted more people than Star Wars.

A film that captured the horror and humanity

That would've been the first vision of war people had.

This programme looks beyond the images to one

He'd prepared to take risks that no one else would take.

Some of the most remarkable film ever shot.

He loves to tell a story, and he knows how to tell a story.

He now brings the camera around, so the men come over the top.

In this programme we retrace his journey to the front lines,

and ask why his record of the Battle of the Somme has a place

If everyone has a debate about the depiction of the horrors

of war, this is the place where we start the discussion.

Across the rolling farmland of the Somme, Europe has

The Thiepval memorial to the missing, the congregation gazed

into the faces of men who fell one century ago.

Unique combat footage from the man who called himself

The fashionable Sussex resort of Hastings, a world

away from the storms that were gathering across Europe.

This is where Geoffrey Malins grew up in the 19th century.

One of a large family, he started work as a photographer,

determined to make something of himself.

He's charming, definitely, real entrepreneur from his time.

He works commercially, doing lots of portraits,

Very much involved in the community he was working in advertising.

He was very much wanting to better his career, if you like.

He took opportunities when they came up.

He took them with enthusiasm and excitement.

Taking a good studio portrait requires a good deal

As a portrait photographer, Malins acquired a number

of useful studio skills, a good understanding

of the technologies in film and cameras.

Malins was undoubtedly an ambitious man.

Very keen to make a go of whatever he tried.

Within a few years Malins, ever the entrepreneur,

There was still a place for beautifully composed photos

Geoffrey Malins was tempted away by the moving image.

It was called kinomatography, giving people a mix

He took a job as a cameraman, initially working on short feature

The newsreels began in France, 1908, exported to the UK in 1910.

A lot of the early newsreel footage shot outdoors.

Some of the equipment was cumbersome, to say the least.

Here we have three cameras, typical examples of the kind

of cameras they would have used in the First World War period.

The largest one at the end, British made one,

When you have a handcranked camera, you get camera movement, creating

This one, you would pump up the compressed air cylinders,

housed in the camera, takes about ten minutes,

that would give you a few minutes of filming time in the field,

In 1914, newsreel companies were scrambling to cover a breaking

Geoffrey Malins' first opportunity to prove his new worth as a news

cameraman arrived faster than he could imagine.

In London, film-makers saw their plans scuppered

by military chiefs, initially opposing any suggestion news cameras

should be allowed on the battlefield.

Banning British companies from the Western front.

As the armies dug in, the need for effective propaganda

There is an audience hungry for images of what is

Initially this space is covered by Belgian, French and German

This material becomes very highly prized.

British film-makers applying pressure on the British Army

and the state, to be more relaxed about the attitude.

Finally by the autumn of 1915, there is an agreement, first of all,

correspondence and stills cameramen will be allowed, by October 1915,

two cine cameramen are sent over to France, commercial cameramen.

Geoffrey Malins was one of them, soon finding itself in uniform.

Over the next few months, he travelled throughout

northern France and Belgium, sending a series of dispatches back

They are conducted by military intelligence officers in charge

If you want to get anywhere, you have to have a military vehicle,

apparently one is only available three days out of five.

Totally reliant on the Army to move around the Western front.

Not only quite inaccessible physically, it is bloody dangerous.

Several times on the journey, shrapnel and splinters bury

When I reach the firing trench, all our men were standing

I placed sandbags on either side of the camera, starting to film.

By the summer of 1916, Malins had arrived behind

By the summer of 1916, Malins had arrived behind British lines,

near the town of Albert, on the Somme.

He and a colleague, JB McDowell, began filming the preparations,

for what was termed the great offensive.

He was told he was being given a chance to watch

As the skies lightened in the early hours of the 1st of July, 1916,

Geoffrey Malins and his escort made their way to the front line.

Around them tens of thousands of men, French and British waiting

I have been in all sorts of places under heavy shellfire,

nothing, absolutely nothing compared with the frightful and demoralising

nature of the shellfire I experienced on that journey.

In front was a roadway, pitted with shell holes.

Where we are now, the northern end of the entire attack.

Extending to our north, and down south about 18 miles.

Malins could only cover with his camera a very small

He has to be very careful what he does.

What Malins does, filming this way, now bringing the camera around,

lined up beautifully, so the men come over the top,

Andy Robertshaw matched Malins' movements one century ago

Facing us in the exact spot where Malins filmed one

At about 6:20am he gets to here, setting his camera up,

the lane is full of soldiers, waiting to attack,

I could see the bottom of the Lane, sitting virtually here.

These guys sat almost exactly where we are.

Malins exactly the same height, filming slightly down,

Guys looking very concerned, others relaxed.

For many of these men, the last time they will be alive,

within an hour many going over the top.

For their family, many of them, the last image will be

screen, with their loved ones' faces looking at them, going over the top.

That must have happened many times, because they would be

One hour later Malins and his party scrambled into position as engineers

prepared to detonate a huge mine under the German trenches.

Time, 7:19am, my hand grasped the bottom of the camera,

The ground gave a mighty convulsion, the Earth rose to hundreds of feet.

With a horrible roar the earth fell back onto itself,

Throughout that long and bloody day, Malins and McDowell, a few miles

apart, capture the scale and futility of the attack.

Shell after Shell crashing in the middle of them,

Other men quickly fill them up, passing through the smoke,

Hampered by their heavy equipment, and the risks of moving around,

the cameramen managed to capture a series of scenes which was shocked

As the casualties, dead and injured were brought in.

Scenes crowded in upon me, wounded, more wounded,

men who a few hours before had left over the parapet, full of life

and vigour, now dribbling back, some of them shattered

Around 70,000 men were killed or injured on the first day of the

battle, more than 57,000 were from Britain and the Commonwealth. The

full-scale further carnage did not hit home with Geoffrey Malins until

he filmed a roll call in the trenches after the first disastrous

attacks. He described what he saw in his memoirs. In one little space,

just two lines, all that was left of a glorious regiment. The ghastly

scenes of which I was witnessing will always remain, a hideous

nightmare in my memory. A few weeks later, those scenes were

being shown to a military into legends committee in London. There

was debate over the content, in the end Malins and his producer

convinced the government the film was worth more than a series of

short newsreel items. According to the supervising editor, the nascent

Porton man putting this together after the cameraman, when he saw the

power of the material coming back to London, they bring back the footage,

he persuades the War office this is great stuff, let's turn it into a

war film. Geoffrey Malins and his colleague had produced extraordinary

footage. Some was not what it appeared to be. The initial problem,

the film needed a climax. That had to be the moment when the big push

happened. The troops going over the top. Malins filmed that, the film he

took survives in the finished product. It is extremely small

figures dealing unclear things in the extreme distance. As a visual

climax to a film, absolutely useless. You can understand the

impulse that would say, we have to have something better. Unable to

capture that key moment, Malins staged it behind the lines. This

piece of film sums up everybody's the of the opening seconds of the

Battle of the Somme. Not only Somme, not on the 1st of July, not even

soldiers taking part in the battle. There is the officer going forward.

That man looks back at the camera, then falling back. In the next

sequence, that man falls, that man falls. That man moves, having been

shot. This man looks at the camera, crosses his legs. The majority of

the film was all too real. In the months following its release, 20

million people went to see it, half of the UK population. The government

believed the film would convince audiences to stand behind the war

effort. It's no holds barred approach was more than some people

could take. People were very shocked at what they saw, one account of

people crying out at the famous over the top sequence, oh, my God he has

been shot. The general consensus was, if the purpose of the film was

to expose civilians to the realities of life on the Western front, death

was one of those realities. Above all Malins and his colleagues had

tried to show the humanity of life on the front. In picture houses all

over Britain, families search the faces for a glimpse of someone they

knew or love. There he is. That is my dad, Walter. There he is again.

He spotted himself, walking along the trench, carrying a stretcher. He

called out in surprise. That is me. David Livermore's father recognised

himself in this shot, 50 years later. Seeing the picture of the men

going through that trench, I feel what he must have felt like and

more. Some of his mates Mustadeem hit by shells and bombs, buried

alive in mind and the trenches. That is what I feel. Geoffrey Malins'

experiences on the Western front took their toll, ill health forcing

him home before the war ended. The risk his life on countless occasions

to get shots he needed. I have tried all the time to realise I was the

eyes and ears of millions. In my pictures I have tried to catch

something of the glamour as one of the awful horror of it all. Worthy

of being preserved as a permanent memorial of the greatest drama in

history. They really capture the spirit of the soldiers. For me, more

about what the audiences would have felt like home. The 20 million, you

can guarantee if you are in the audience, there is someone you know

in the film, someone you know. I liked it, it was very honest and

real, I found it moving. Pitiful seeing everyone streaming to their

death, awful. We know looking at those faces, some of them would not

survive the day. That hits you hire. Every time the camera is on the

mend, they are looking at the camera, I felt they are watching us.

What would they make of us? 100 years later. I had a sense of, what

has changed When I look at the film now, what I

find remarkable, every time I see the film, I see something new. If

ever one has a debate about the depiction of the horrors of war,

which incidentally, not really covered on British Greens, this is

the place where we start the discussion. Journalistic truth, the

horrors of war, how does one represent the dead? How does one

represent the battle? All in the battle of the Somme, still relevant

today. This woman feels the connection with

the past more than the most. She shares a great-grandfather's love of

art and storytelling, to commemorate the centenary, she is preparing an

exhibition based around a man and his film. He would be happy he is

inspiring younger generations. I think with the farce killing on this

year for the anniversary, he would feel it should be made a facile.

Maybe not necessarily his work, but what happened, and the fact he was

able to go out there and film, they were able to document, really

significant. It is not living memory, for me anymore. Still close

memory. Really important it is not lost.

During this centenary year, Geoffrey Malins' film will be shown in the UK

and overseas. It is clear that despite the passage of time, it

still has a resonance with today's's audiences. The greatest story

remains the tragedy of the First World War and the Battle of the

Somme in particular. Geoffrey Malins personality, energy and undoubted

courage have combined to a place in this chapter of our history. -- to

earn him a place.