49 Up
The following is an article (including an interview with the director) about the on-going documentary series 7 Up. CBC Newsworld will be airing the latest installment of the series, 49 Up, on CBC Newsworld Sunday November 26 and Monday November 27 at 10pm ET/PT.
The Middle Ages --- Director Michael Apted revisits his documentary subjects in 49 Up
By Katrina Onstad
In 1964, a British television documentary crew interviewed several children from in and around London for a program called 7 Up. In the opening credits, the children - a cross-class, mostly white crew chosen to represent the spectrum of British society at the time - are brought together to play. The black-and-white footage shows the children running and shouting, spinning on swings while a narrator intones the Jesuit maxim: “Give me the child until he is seven, and I will show you the man.” Every seven years since, almost all of the children have been interviewed again, and the resulting snapshots of their lives in flux (14 Up, 21 Up etc.) have become a remarkable, breathing social experiment, as well as one of the most engaging pieces of documentary filmmaking ever made.
Those who have followed along through the years feel deeply invested in Tony, Suzy, John, Jackie, Andrew, Bruce, Sue, Simon, Paul, Lynn, Nick and Neil. Director Michael Apted, a disembodied, syrupy voice prodding from behind the camera, interviews them again for 49 Up, the seventh installment, airing in two parts Nov. 26 and 27 on CBC Newsworld (10 pm ET/PT). Not unexpectedly, the subjects’ lives have changed less dramatically between ages 42 and 49 than between seven and 14 and 21 and 28. But the ordinary shifts of life, in which we recognize ourselves, are what makes the series so moving: many of the group are divorced or remarried; their offspring, who were tiny two episodes ago, are now parents themselves; one woman battles depression.
The emotional struggles of youth have receded, and almost all - even Neil, who had been homeless in Scotland and dealing with mental problems - are entering an age of contentedness. But with that confidence comes a surprising push back at Apted and the entire 7 Up process. For the first time, a few of the subjects question out loud what this invasion of privacy has meant over the years, and one announces she will not participate next time.
Michael Apted was a researcher on the 1964 series, and has directed each film since. On the phone from Los Angeles, he discusses the phenomenon of 7 Up, and why he blames reality TV for the snippy mood of some of the participants in the latest installment of the series.
Q: You are the president of the Director’s Guild of America. You’ve made a James Bond film (The World Is Not Enough) and features like Nell. Is it a relief to return to the known territory of 7 Up, or does it ever feel like an obligation, a distraction from your real work?
A: It’s never that easy to do but it’s thrilling to go back to it. It’s so widely appreciated that it never feels a burden. I’m sort of grateful that it’s there. It’s the most original thing I’ve ever been involved with, and I think the longer it goes on the richer it becomes.
Q: What is your relationship to these people in the intervening seven years? Do you stay in touch?
A: I liken it to a family. There’s some people you get on with better than others. With some of them I have regular communications, others I never speak to in the seven-year gap.
Q: When we saw Suzy at 21, she had her head down; she was smoking and painfully uncertain. But by 28, she was completely transformed, just joyful. She’s the most complex figure in the series, I think, but also inscrutable. Is she serious when she says she won’t appear in the next one?
A: It looks like that. It’s horrible. Dreadful. But she doesn’t like doing it, she never has. She doesn’t understand that she’s somewhat inspirational to a lot of women. She doesn’t get it and can’t be told it. I count her as a friend but she’s pretty difficult. I continue my relationship with her and will continue in the hope that I can persuade her differently, but I’m not holding my breath. I have a very strong relationship with Peter, one of the Liverpool boys who dropped out at 28, and again, I live in hope that he’ll return. The only one I’ve given up on is Charles [Furnaux], the posh boy who became a documentary filmmaker [a producer on Touching the Void] and dropped out after 21. I can’t get my head around that. He makes documentary films but he won’t be in one.
Q: Andrew, the wealthy barrister, gets quite angry at one point, likening the show to voyeuristic reality TV. Your noble experiment has been tainted by bad company this time around.
A: Reality TV was the gorilla in the room with 49. With 42, it didn’t exist, really. The Truman Show had happened and people said: ‘You invented reality television.’ That was a joke then but it’s not funny now. It certainly did cause me some problems because if you’re not prepared to make a distinction between our films and reality television, you might wonder whether this was just another cheesy piece of cheap exploitation. I was at pains to try to distinguish to these souls the difference between documentary and reality. I hope that they don’t feel they’ve been exploited and abused over these years for nothing better than just a piece of sleaze. I hope I did convince them. It was certainly very much on their minds, and why they wanted to talk about being in the film more than they ever had before. It took me completely by shock.
Q: As a viewer, you’re constantly anticipating who these people will become. Sometimes they meet the expectations set up in the early films, sometimes they thwart them. What’s that experience like as a filmmaker? Are you making editorial decisions to shape them to your own personal expectations?
A: I try not to. It’s hard. Whenever I’ve ever consciously done it, it’s been a complete fiasco. With Tony at 21, I thought he was going to end up in prison at 28 so I had him show me all the criminal sights of London in his cab, thinking how clever that would be.
Q: Now he’s quite successful, and we see him in his beach house in Spain.
A: Right, that’s the classic example. I think the only way to do the film is never to think of the old film, it’s to go on in every seven years and try and capture them as they are and not even think about what they said they were going to do when they were 14 or 21 or 42. I try not to project onto them.
Q: There’s a lot of responsibility in that.
A: That’s the heart of the program. If you get it wrong, the program gets messed up.
Q: Middle age seems to suit the group. Almost everyone is so much more contented, and open.
A: That’s a bit to do with the fact that the age difference between me and them diminishes as the films get older. We feel more collegiate, more equal, more one on one. I think the interview gets a bit more intimate and that’s one of the reasons this film seems slightly more emotional than it has before.
Q: Are they celebrities in England?
A: For a time they are, for a few weeks after the thing goes out. They are recognized a lot. It’s the worst kind of celebrity, it doesn’t have any power or money attached to it, but it is nonetheless an invasion of their privacy.
Q: Will the project go on indefinitely?
A: Well, it has a finite timeline [laughing]. I don’t see why it shouldn’t go on. I don’t think it’s getting boring. We’re entering periods of contemplating retirement, mortality, dealing with age, this sort of stuff, so I think it would be very interesting to watch as these people get older.
Q: Do you dread that? I must admit, I did wonder when I sat to watch this installment whether or not any of them had died.
A: It’s a terrifying thought. As I said at the beginning, there’s a sense of family. It’s not just people in a documentary, there’s something much deeper than that.
The Middle Ages --- Director Michael Apted revisits his documentary subjects in 49 Up
By Katrina Onstad
In 1964, a British television documentary crew interviewed several children from in and around London for a program called 7 Up. In the opening credits, the children - a cross-class, mostly white crew chosen to represent the spectrum of British society at the time - are brought together to play. The black-and-white footage shows the children running and shouting, spinning on swings while a narrator intones the Jesuit maxim: “Give me the child until he is seven, and I will show you the man.” Every seven years since, almost all of the children have been interviewed again, and the resulting snapshots of their lives in flux (14 Up, 21 Up etc.) have become a remarkable, breathing social experiment, as well as one of the most engaging pieces of documentary filmmaking ever made.
Those who have followed along through the years feel deeply invested in Tony, Suzy, John, Jackie, Andrew, Bruce, Sue, Simon, Paul, Lynn, Nick and Neil. Director Michael Apted, a disembodied, syrupy voice prodding from behind the camera, interviews them again for 49 Up, the seventh installment, airing in two parts Nov. 26 and 27 on CBC Newsworld (10 pm ET/PT). Not unexpectedly, the subjects’ lives have changed less dramatically between ages 42 and 49 than between seven and 14 and 21 and 28. But the ordinary shifts of life, in which we recognize ourselves, are what makes the series so moving: many of the group are divorced or remarried; their offspring, who were tiny two episodes ago, are now parents themselves; one woman battles depression.
The emotional struggles of youth have receded, and almost all - even Neil, who had been homeless in Scotland and dealing with mental problems - are entering an age of contentedness. But with that confidence comes a surprising push back at Apted and the entire 7 Up process. For the first time, a few of the subjects question out loud what this invasion of privacy has meant over the years, and one announces she will not participate next time.
Michael Apted was a researcher on the 1964 series, and has directed each film since. On the phone from Los Angeles, he discusses the phenomenon of 7 Up, and why he blames reality TV for the snippy mood of some of the participants in the latest installment of the series.
Q: You are the president of the Director’s Guild of America. You’ve made a James Bond film (The World Is Not Enough) and features like Nell. Is it a relief to return to the known territory of 7 Up, or does it ever feel like an obligation, a distraction from your real work?
A: It’s never that easy to do but it’s thrilling to go back to it. It’s so widely appreciated that it never feels a burden. I’m sort of grateful that it’s there. It’s the most original thing I’ve ever been involved with, and I think the longer it goes on the richer it becomes.
Q: What is your relationship to these people in the intervening seven years? Do you stay in touch?
A: I liken it to a family. There’s some people you get on with better than others. With some of them I have regular communications, others I never speak to in the seven-year gap.
Q: When we saw Suzy at 21, she had her head down; she was smoking and painfully uncertain. But by 28, she was completely transformed, just joyful. She’s the most complex figure in the series, I think, but also inscrutable. Is she serious when she says she won’t appear in the next one?
A: It looks like that. It’s horrible. Dreadful. But she doesn’t like doing it, she never has. She doesn’t understand that she’s somewhat inspirational to a lot of women. She doesn’t get it and can’t be told it. I count her as a friend but she’s pretty difficult. I continue my relationship with her and will continue in the hope that I can persuade her differently, but I’m not holding my breath. I have a very strong relationship with Peter, one of the Liverpool boys who dropped out at 28, and again, I live in hope that he’ll return. The only one I’ve given up on is Charles [Furnaux], the posh boy who became a documentary filmmaker [a producer on Touching the Void] and dropped out after 21. I can’t get my head around that. He makes documentary films but he won’t be in one.
Q: Andrew, the wealthy barrister, gets quite angry at one point, likening the show to voyeuristic reality TV. Your noble experiment has been tainted by bad company this time around.
A: Reality TV was the gorilla in the room with 49. With 42, it didn’t exist, really. The Truman Show had happened and people said: ‘You invented reality television.’ That was a joke then but it’s not funny now. It certainly did cause me some problems because if you’re not prepared to make a distinction between our films and reality television, you might wonder whether this was just another cheesy piece of cheap exploitation. I was at pains to try to distinguish to these souls the difference between documentary and reality. I hope that they don’t feel they’ve been exploited and abused over these years for nothing better than just a piece of sleaze. I hope I did convince them. It was certainly very much on their minds, and why they wanted to talk about being in the film more than they ever had before. It took me completely by shock.
Q: As a viewer, you’re constantly anticipating who these people will become. Sometimes they meet the expectations set up in the early films, sometimes they thwart them. What’s that experience like as a filmmaker? Are you making editorial decisions to shape them to your own personal expectations?
A: I try not to. It’s hard. Whenever I’ve ever consciously done it, it’s been a complete fiasco. With Tony at 21, I thought he was going to end up in prison at 28 so I had him show me all the criminal sights of London in his cab, thinking how clever that would be.
Q: Now he’s quite successful, and we see him in his beach house in Spain.
A: Right, that’s the classic example. I think the only way to do the film is never to think of the old film, it’s to go on in every seven years and try and capture them as they are and not even think about what they said they were going to do when they were 14 or 21 or 42. I try not to project onto them.
Q: There’s a lot of responsibility in that.
A: That’s the heart of the program. If you get it wrong, the program gets messed up.
Q: Middle age seems to suit the group. Almost everyone is so much more contented, and open.
A: That’s a bit to do with the fact that the age difference between me and them diminishes as the films get older. We feel more collegiate, more equal, more one on one. I think the interview gets a bit more intimate and that’s one of the reasons this film seems slightly more emotional than it has before.
Q: Are they celebrities in England?
A: For a time they are, for a few weeks after the thing goes out. They are recognized a lot. It’s the worst kind of celebrity, it doesn’t have any power or money attached to it, but it is nonetheless an invasion of their privacy.
Q: Will the project go on indefinitely?
A: Well, it has a finite timeline [laughing]. I don’t see why it shouldn’t go on. I don’t think it’s getting boring. We’re entering periods of contemplating retirement, mortality, dealing with age, this sort of stuff, so I think it would be very interesting to watch as these people get older.
Q: Do you dread that? I must admit, I did wonder when I sat to watch this installment whether or not any of them had died.
A: It’s a terrifying thought. As I said at the beginning, there’s a sense of family. It’s not just people in a documentary, there’s something much deeper than that.