The New Year opened with a mild display of public concern over what appeared to be a crass effort on the part of the film censor and the appeal board.

The Controversy arose when a list of the films which had fallen foul of the censor was published in the Wellington papers. And an interesting list it was.

At the time of the banning of The Collector a few months before, a letter to the Post from a band of enthusiasts at the National Film Unit had sparked off some discussion, and the public, perhaps for the first time, was learning something of the abysmal role that, film censorship played in New Zealand. Chief pundit in the later row was Professor Munz, who had a lengthy article printed in the Evening Post.

Pitiful state

It is becoming remarkably clear that the state of film censorship in this country is little short of pitiful. Also disturbing is the seeming lack of rationale behind the censor's decisions.

Thus: the black magic sequence in Corman's Masque of the Red Death is excised, yet it could not be said that, the spectacle of Hazel Court dreaming that she is "stretched upon an odd couch in a totally helpless position, and wildly killed a great many times by hideous dancers armed with sharp-edged swords" would be more disturbing than the quite frightful initiation ceremony in Mel Ferrer's film of W. H. Hudson's Green Mansions.

In Fritz Lang's The Big Heat a pot of scalding coffee is thrown in a woman's face in direct view of the audience, while in Stakeout on Dope Street we are treated to a rigorous exhibition of drug addict dry horrors.

One wonders why these snippets were left in when it is quite obvious that similarly affecting sequences have been rudely cut from other films, sometimes In order that the age restriction may be as low as possible.

Mutilation

When the university Film Society imported Luis Bunuel's Le Chien Andalou in 1963, the censor ordered the cutting of scenes showing "man rubbing hands over breasts of women both when she is clothed and when she is nude and view of man rubbing hands over nude woman's bottom."

It seems that an historic avant-garde film must be mutilated even for a university audience.

The Wild One has come up for review several times since it was originally banned, but each time it has been given the boot. This film may have created a furore when released 11 years ago, but I doubt if today's mod-man would be sufficiently stirred by the antics of Brando's boys to take to the street in like manner.

Thus the film enthusiast is denied an excellent film because of censorship's inability to appreciate the evolution in the style of teen-age rebellion and youthful delinquency.

"High art"

One criterion seems to be whether or not a film falls into the High Art category. Thus The Silence without Bergman's signature may have been extensively cut or even banned, but since this director is a darling of the foreign film cultists, and since the censor seems impressed by this fact, the film got by in the form it was screened.

Professor Munz did a small disservice by pandering to this notion in an otherwise excellent review of the whole situation. His cursory dismissal of Killen With a Whip and Lady in a Cage (Hollywoodish. luridly tilled, hence unworthy) was certainly unjustified.

The latter film in particular may have been an interesting effort, with Olivia de Havilland trapped in her house elevator while hoodlums take over. Similar situations have provided plots for several excellent films. Richard Lester's The Knack hardly rated a mention despite its Golden Palm award at Cannes.

The recent remake of Octave Mirbeau's Le Journal d'une Femme de Chambre by the great Mexican (b. Spain) director Luis Bunuel was also ignored. But this is possibly the most exciting film on the list. Quoting one critic; "... scathingly destructive: relentlessly Bunuel's victims (hypocrisy, injustice, the bourgeoisie) are pared to the bone. But Bunuel's message is. by implication, positive and deeply humanist." The fact that it is banned in Kiwiland comes as no great surprise.

Fatuous notion

The conclusion, irrespective of one's views on censorship in general, is that none of these films should have been banned. The situation is entirely ridiculous I am reminded of Lord Goddard's faluous notion that whereas hanging was good for Britons (stolid, respectable) it was ineffective as a deterrent when it came to foreigners (presumably unpredictable and excitable).

Thus these films can be screened in New York and London but not in Wellington, since such traumatic experiences would not be good for the New Zealand audience. There would, presumably, be rioting in the streets or an increase in the crime rate, but I have yet to hear of such phenomena following screenings of these films in other countries. Our censors must surely realise that today's New Zealand cinema audience is far more sophisticated and hard-headed than its counterpart of 20 years ago.

I suppose that in a few years from now that sell-appointed purveyor of film culture in New Zealand, the Federation of Film Societies, will persuade the censor that some of these films should be released for screening to "selected audiences," but I would rather not see them at all than condone and participate in such an absurd conspiracy.