Paradise Lost - Flatpack Film Festival

Opening with grainy black and white shots of Birmingham, a voiceover reads the lines of John Milton's Satan, from the epic poem Paradise Lost: 'Hail infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell receive thy new Possessor'. What occurs in the following 90 minutes is indeed the tale of a fall from grace, however its focus is not on a fallen angel, but rather the city of Birmingham itself. Andy Howlett's 'Paradise Lost' takes a documentary-style look at Birmingham's forgotten building, the old Central Library, tracking its demolition in 2013 alongside the demise of brutalist architecture across the country.

Having just finished an undergraduate dissertation on John Milton's Paradise Lost, I was unsurprisingly drawn towards this film of the same name, as part of Birmingham's annual Flatpack Festival. Howlett chose this title as it also references Paradise Circus, the central area in Birmingham that sports various landmarks such as the museum, Symphony Hall, and previously, the old library. This online screening was billed as a 'pscyhogeographic detective story', a description that captured the dramatic nature of the tale, but not its humanity. Howlett's film combined carefully selected archival material with personal footage and anecdotes to create a piece that felt incredibly close to home, even as it focused on a building that has not existed for almost a decade. 

The Birmingham Central Library was originally designed to be the cultural hub of the city, planning to host a drama centre, music hall and transport hub. The architects responsible for the unusual ziggurat-shaped building, most prominently John Madin (who is re-imagined here as Milton's Satan), designed the place as part of a utopian vision for an arts-orientated, pedestrianised city. Yet, just over 40 years after its erection, the building reached the eternal abyss, along with all traces that it ever existed. As Howlett profoundly put it, ‘someone killed the future, and now they want to destroy the evidence.’

This conspiracy-fuelled opening segment led into a discussion of the city's architecture since its rebuilding after the Blitz, where it was remodelled ‘in the image of the future.’ Howlett uses archival film to depict the rise of militant modernism, an architectural style defined by imposing concrete structures and sprawling ring-roads. Just years later, the direct antithesis occurred, and Birmingham re-branded itself as the ‘glitter city’, a neoliberal Paradise sparkling with gems like the reflective New Street Station and Selfridges. Thrust into this new climate, the Central Library's brutalist days were numbered.

Howlett spends a significant part of the film simply roaming the grounds of the old library with a hand-held camera, and indeed, he argues that the building welcomes this kind of exploration. Describing it as 'the Midland's answer to London's Southbank', he dwells on the absurd details of the grounds - from its feeble attempt at a "wild garden" to the general litter surrounding the area, including the remains of a homeless Christmas party (several months after winter). The honesty of this footage (some might even say 'brutally' honest), kept the film light and quirky, while refusing to shy away from the heavier political messages.

In focusing on the communities that have appreciated, studied, and fought for the preservation of this building, Howlett shed light on the damaging impact of neoliberal city-scaping. The building has acted as a haunt for skateboarders, homeless people, and those who are simply looking for a place to sit down and be comfortable - something that is becoming rare within our increasingly gentrified city. Howlett makes a strong case that the council were suspicious, even hostile, to this unusual and eclectic place, even spreading false information that the building was crumbling to pieces to justify its demolition. The new library that replaced it over-compensated for its minimal opening hours and extortionate running costs with a shiny, selfie-worthy exterior, prioritising commercial attraction over satisfaction for the people. It’s a bold claim – but Howlett defends his view with careful historical detail running through the film.

Howlett also studied the key figures involved with the campaign to list and therefore protect the old library, most notably Alan Clawley, who tragically died before the completion of this film. The demolition of the building was linked to a wider problem of erasing urban spaces and their histories, taking this film beyond the scope of a merely trivial documentary. Some of the most touching scenes, for example, showed footage of the Park Hill estate in Sheffield, which was spared demolition only to be gentrified beyond recognition by regeneration company urban splash. Handwritten messages and sentimental hoardings disappeared into neon cladding and unaffordable living prices, depicting history not simply in the making, but in the destroying.

We ultimately travelled full circle, returning to the fallen angle figure discarding several photographs of the old library into a nearby canal and symbolising the conclusion of a tragic tale. While more could have been made of the allusions to Paradise Lost (I'm a Milton fanatic, sorry), this framing device certainly provided a compelling literary counterpart to the factual content, also elevating the drama of Howlett's simple hand-held story.

The film ended with the message that there are valuable lessons to be learned from defeat, arguing that the destruction of the old library creates room for new beginnings. Whether or not I am convinced by this ruthless 'forward' attitude (with this being the motto of the city), it is certainly important to move from testimony to future change. And in 2021, with the introduction of clean-air zones and increasingly pedestrianised areas, I’m quietly confident that the original utopian dream of Birmingham is inching closer, and we’re returning to an “old library” attitude.

 

Verdict

With a home-movie feel that meets highbrow historical content and a YouTube-reminiscent voiceover, this film is an entertaining and enlightening piece. Watch ‘Paradise Lost’ if you want to gain an understanding of the city's true heritage, not just the squeaky-clean heritage that you've been asked to consume.

9/10