everything you have heard about this movie is true.

I think this is a new genre that they're all sort of working their way through it and haven't got all the kinks worked out yet but it's a genre that works for me.

I enjoyed watching this film and would recommend other to give it a try , (as I am) but this movie, although enjoyable to watch due to the better than average acting fails to add anything new to its storyline that is all too familiar to these types of movies.

It's a good bad... and worth a popcorn matinée. While it's easy to lament what could have been...

Michael Powell was born in Canterbury, and "A Canterbury Tale" can be seen as his love-poem to his native city. The film opens with a quotation from Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" and a shot of his pilgrims making their way to Canterbury, and the action is set either in the city itself or in the nearby fictitious small town of Chillingbourne (an amalgam of the villages of Chilham, Fordwich, and Wickhambreaux, with the name perhaps owing something to "Sittingbourne"). His three main characters- British Army Sergeant Peter Gibbs, U.S. Army Sergeant Bob Johnson and Alison Smith, a "Land Girl" - arrive by train in Chillingbourne one summer evening and are explicitly compared to modern-day pilgrims. Part of the story concerns the "blessings" they receive after they visit Canterbury.The main problem with the film is that the central story is a silly one. Peter, Bob and Alison learn that somebody in Chillingbourne is pouring glue into the hair of local girls who have been dating soldiers from a nearby camp, and decide to unmask the culprit. We do eventually learn who the "glue man" is, and what his motive is, although this might have come as a surprise to audiences in 1944, and will probably still surprise modern ones. He is motivated neither by jealousy at losing a girlfriend to a soldier (which would probably have been the most common guess in 1944) nor by some bizarre sexual fetish (which would probably be the most common guess today).Powell and Pressburger were concerned to encourage wartime Anglo-American friendship (a theme they also dealt with in a later film, "A Matter of Life and Death"), but the character of Bob does not seem particularly calculated to endear the British public to their transatlantic guests. He is the sort of Yank who greets every minor difference between the British and American ways of life (driving on the left, unarmed policemen, etc.) not only with bafflement but also with a barely-concealed belief that the American way of doing things must inevitably be superior. At times, in fact, The Archers actually seem to be exaggerating Anglo-American differences in order to make a point. Contrary to what we are led to believe here, quite a lot of Americans do indeed drink tea, and no American would express surprise at a settlement as small as Chillingbourne being called a town. (In many parts of the States the word "village" is rarely used and the word "town" is used to describe settlements which in Britain would be considered villages).The character of Bob is played by Sergeant John Sweet, a real-life American GI. He never appeared in another film after this one (although he lived to be 95), and I cannot say that the decision to use an amateur actor really paid off; perhaps Powell and Pressburger had difficulty finding a professional American actor in the England of 1944. When the film was released in America after the war, the Canadian actor Raymond Massey acted as narrator- Esmond Knight narrated the British version- and extra scenes were added with Kim Hunter as Johnson's girlfriend. (Massey and Hunter were chosen because they were due to star in "A Matter of Life and Death").What saves the film from a lower mark is the quality of the cinematography. Powell achieves some striking black and white photography of the city of Canterbury and of the surrounding countryside. An important scene takes place in Canterbury Cathedral, but because of wartime conditions the Cathedral itself was not available for filming; this scene was shot on a set recreated in the studio. Two years before the film was made, the city had been devastated by enemy bombing during the so-called Baedeker raids; according to Nazi propaganda Canterbury had been singled out because the city's Archbishop, William Temple, was an advocate of the bombing of German cities. Powell and Pressburger do not shy away from depicting the devastation caused by the bombing; indeed, they make it a theme of their film.The rural parts of the film are perhaps even more important than the urban ones. The theme is essentially what might be called neo-romantic nationalism, a sense that in the English landscape the past always haunts the present. At the time the film probably seemed to express a timeless vision of an unchanging rural England; Bob, a carpenter in civilian life, finds that he can talk to the local wheelwright without risk of cultural misunderstandings because both Britain and America hold to traditional methods of woodworking. Yet this was an England which already stood on the verge of change. In the forties many farms still relied upon horse-and-cart methods of agriculture, and the local wheelwright would have been a key figure in any village. The mechanisation of agriculture, however, had begun in the twenties and thirties, and even from the vantage-point of 1944 it was probably already predictable that the old methods would not last for very much longer. As things turned out, the horse-and-cart days were largely gone by the sixties."A Canterbury Tale", therefore, attempts to deal with some quite ambitious themes. It is a pity that a better storyline could not have been found to embody them. 6/10 A goof. The character Thomas Colpeper, who is supposed to be very knowledgeable about the local area, mentions "heather" among the flowers which can be found on the Downs near Chillingbourne. A genuinely knowledgeable local man would have realised that heather needs sandy, acidic soils and therefore will not grow on the chalky, alkaline soils of the North Downs.

https://trappedinthecinemablog.wordpress.com/2016/08/04/a- canterbury-tale-1944-%E2%98%85%E2%98%85%E2%98%85%E2%98%85/Very loosely inspired by Chaucer's 'Canterbury Tales', Powell and Pressburger's wartime drama 'A Canterbury Tale' (1944) was made during one of the most extraordinary consecutive directorial 'runs' ever: 'One of Our Aircraft Is Missing' (1942), 'The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp' (1943), 'A Canterbury Tale' (1944), 'I Know Where I'm Going!' (1945), 'A Matter of Life and Death' (1946), 'Black Narcissus' (1947), and 'The Red Shoes' (1948). All seven of them are British classics. And A Canterbury Tale is no different.The film opens with a Chaucerian knight, trekking through a forest on horseback, who lets free a bird of prey. And then, in a truly extraordinary moment of cinema, the swooping bird becomes a WW2 aircraft, and the knight becomes a tank. Technology and people have developed and 600 years of history have past.It is a remarkable moment of both magic and originality. It is also indicative of how under-appreciated Powell and Pressburger are. This scene has been forgotten from the public consciousness – never even remembered in the first place – yet when Stanley Kubrick referenced this moment in '2001: A Space Odyssey' (1968) with a bone spinning in mid-air and becoming a spaceship (similarly indicating the passage of time and the development of technology), he is acclaimed as a genius for his originality.The rest of the tale leaves behind any Chaucerian plot, but does keep the tendency for eccentric characters. A small town near Canterbury is being terrorised by "the glueman", a mysterious man who pours glue over women's hair at night. There is probably a reference to a particular Chaucerian character here, which sadly went straight over my head.Into this town arrives a US soldier who gets off at the wrong station, and a British woman from the city who has come to work as a land girl for the war effort. And as they begin to turn their attention to investigating the Scooby Doo-esque glueman, they find themselves caught up and encapsulated in the nature of English rural life.The film is a love letter to the English countryside, landscape, and pastoral life. Characters regularly take walks up hillsides, just to admire the views. The film shows rural life and its traditions in great detail, and with great affection. And we see Canterbury Cathedral, a permanence in the country for so many centuries.The war, meanwhile, is relegated to a mere subplot. This indicates exactly what Powell and Pressburger are trying to say. The war is an incidental feature. It does not obstruct any of the characters' lives. It is a mere passing inconvenience. In one hilltop scene characters discuss a remarkable view, but do not mention the dozens of barrage balloons which litter the sky. P&P – which they should never be referred to as – are telling us that England and English life will continue as it always has done, from 600 years ago in the medieval era, through the present era unaffected by world war, and forever into the future.On a side note, for those worried about their ignorance of Scotland and Scottish life, they dealt with that in their following film, I Know Where I'm Going! And for those worried about their ignorance of Wales and Welsh life, as far as I can tell, they didn't give a sh*t.Perhaps A Canterbury Tale lacks the same magical spark as the greatest of their works, A Matter Of Life Or Death, or The Red Shoes, for instance. But this in no way should be seen as a dismissive comment. A Canterbury Tale still contains some remarkable moments from a pair of remarkable directors, especially the moment that Stanley Kubrick clearly thought so highly of.

Hardly anyone can miss the immensely strong sense of place in the film. Whether it was all shot there or not, the beauty of the unspoiled country outside Canterbury and the desolation of the bombed city around its towering cathedral must strike everybody. What some previous reviewers are less sure on is the equally strong sense of time.Most people pick up the almost mystical links with the Iron Age track, the Roman military road and the way of the medieval pilgrims. The two young people from London and the third from distant Oregon are clearly following an ancient trail towards revelation. What is equally important, to my mind, is an understanding of the exact period in which the story unrolls.The photography gives us endless clues of late summer in the south of England: cut corn in sheaves, hops being picked, long grass going dry on the downs, blackberries to eat. In fact, we are given precise dates: it is the end of August 1943. First meeting at the railway station on the night of Friday 27 August, the three young people join up there again on the morning of Monday 30 August to complete their pilgrimage.What was hanging over the protagonists at the time? On various fronts, the Germans and Japanese were being pushed back: the Russians were winning the huge tank battles around Kursk while the western Allies were victorious in the Solomon Islands and in Sicily. Both the young sergeants knew that they were likely to be fighting on the mainland of Europe soon.By the time the film was released in England, a year later in August 1944, the picture was very different: British and American troops were racing towards the Rhine, the Russians had broken into Germany and the Japanese were retreating in the East. Some of the huge tensions facing the people in the film were eased. As invasion was improbable and air raids unlikely, the Home Guard would soon be stood down and the blackout relaxed. The US soldiers had crossed to France, never to return. So the rich slice of rural and urban life caught in the film was already historical, but still worth treasuring as a lyrical evocation of a place and a time. Under the surface of its relatively simple story, deep currents run.

There are a number of ways that you can interpret A Canterbury Tale (1944) and a number of things to look out for in order to enrich the overall experience. For me, it remains one of the finest British films of the last half-century, mixing elements of satire, detective fiction, romance and magical-realism to create a lingering and atmospheric work that forgoes any such generic storytelling concerns, and indeed, the more recognisable ideas of narrative, to instead create an experience for the viewer that works simply as a result of the feeling that is created by the contrast between the characters and the subject matter. On an entirely immediate level, the film can be seen as subtle comment on the futility of war; an idea given a greater sense of creative credence by the fact that it was produced at a time when the war was still raging. As ever, Powell and Pressburger go against the accepted grain of the era, relinquishing any obvious elements of propaganda (as they did, quite controversially, with their preceding film, the equally satirical The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, 1943), and producing a film that on the one hand seems to be a laboured attempt to smooth out relations between American and British troops in the run up to the Normandy invasion, while on the other hand offering a ironic comment on the nature of war and that air of unspoken tragedy that punctuates the drama and makes the destruction and the devastation of war comprehendible on an entirely personal level.In keeping with this notion, the only battles shown in the film are those that involve the children of the village, acting out the supposed thrill of the battle in such a way as to make light of the inherent absurdities and childishness of it all. Likewise, the ending of the film, which seems to suggest the noble spirit of war, with its "Onward Christian Soldiers" and the allusions to the Canterbury Pilgrims - as uniformed men and boys march in procession through the streets - also ties in with the propaganda element, and yet, features a subtle-subversion on this same theme in a way that may have been missed by the majority of viewers at the time the film was released. Through Powell and Pressburger deny us the sight of any actual combat, they don't shy away from showing us the aftermath of the battle; with the sequences set within Canterbury itself making great use of the recent destruction of the Baedeker Raids of May and June, 1942; which itself suggests another theme of the film in the idea of history, or indeed, conservation. The film, in both design and presentation, is a veritable ode to the wonders of nature and the glorious, pastoral landscapes of rural England, rich in atmosphere and history. Again, it is that universal connection to time and place that binds the characters beyond the recognisable differences of nationality, gender and generation, informing the tone of the narrative and suggesting a further interpretation pertaining to the past (and of letting go of the past and embracing the present).These ideas are expressed most clearly in the character of the American soldier, played here by the real-life U.S. Sgt. John Sweet, with his slow, Dylan like-drawl and keen delivery going towards the creation of a character that is honest and entirely genuine in his thoughts. The filmmakers exploit the character and his relationship between the rest of the cast to make light of both the inherent differences and (indeed) similarities between the two cultures, in a way that is beneficial to the plot. Regardless, there is a real sense of warmth to the presentation of this character, due in part to the naturalistic performance from Sweet and the natural charm of the dialog. Unlike many popular presentations of Americans - particular American soldiers of this era - he is sensitive, sympathetic, dynamic, attuned to his surroundings and quietly heroic (on an entirely personal level). Again, he is perfectly counted by the fine performances of Eric Portman, Dennis Price and the lovely Sheila Sim who round out the cast with aplomb. There's also a great sense of warmth and pathos to these characters, moving from moments of light comedy to more affecting moments of drama and intuitive character observation as we return to that idea of the past and how the location binds the characters, regardless of their superficial differences.Throughout the film, the characters cling to old memories of people and places, never realising that there are experiences to be cherished in the here and now; even more so given the life and death implications of the war itself. These are incredibly weighty ideas being expressed in a film that was no doubt considered to be a silly little war-time romp when originally released, but can now be seen as one of the finest, most intelligent and repeatedly rewarding films ever released. Admittedly, it won't be to all tastes; as is often the case with the films of Powell and Pressburger there is no set genre here, with the reliance on character and atmosphere leading us away from such notions and instead towards something that can only be experienced. It is a film that relies mostly on the feeling that is transmitted between the film and the viewer and will be considered a success or a failure depending on how it leaves the audience with that final shot of the chiming bells of Canterbury Cathedral. You could perhaps argue that it lacks the imagination or epic-spectacle of the later films, like A Matter of Life and Death (1946) or The Red Shoes (1948) - still two of the greatest works of British cinema - but in my opinion A Canterbury Tale remains a minor masterpiece in its own right, and seems to be something of a thematic companion piece to director Michael Powell's earlier work, The Edge of the World (1937).