In 1927 a Parliamentary Act was passed as a means to ransom a faltering and bordering on extinct, British film industry; The Cinematograph Act of 1927. One of the most essential provisions - was that films be produced at a lightning pace - if quantity would undermine quality then so be it -for these productions that were referred to as the 'quota quickie.' were Britain's only hope to maintain their industry, a time for desperate measures to keep up with the joneses at Hollywood - which was a flourishing and booming industry (even in the Depression years). Consequently, with the haste of the quota films, came disappointment and stigma for its lackluster offerings of British cinema during the advent of the talkie.
There was to be a lining silver however when director Michael Powell, who was technically a rules player would still manage to craft exceedingly viable pictures; one of note being 1934's Fire Raisers, which was one of over twenty 'quickies' he would turn out to help keep the industry from going asunder, the film was based on the true event of insurance agent Leopold Harris who committed acts of arson, an act that a scandalous London Salvage Corps themselves were in cahoots with.
The Cinematograph Act may have been a little too ambitious for its own good, with the exception of director Powell's inspired features, most of the films made under the provisional and proverbial gun were so achingly vacuous, the only audiences in the cinemas in which they were screened, were the charwomen and their trusted dusters. The Act itself perhaps a necessary evil , for without it's clause and effect, it is doubtful the industry could have survived, given the pending of sound and the exorbitant expenses of the equipment that would be necessary to facilitate filmmaking. The term itself 'quota quickie' has proved a thorn in side and bane of many a filmmaker's existence for it's reductive implications, it was a time most of the directors would have liked to forget.
Here is something worth remembering though:
The Archers Manifesto
One, we owe allegiance to nobody except the financial interests which provide our money; and, to them, the sole responsibility of ensuring them a profit, not a loss.
Two, every single foot in our films is our own responsibility and nobody else's. We refuse to be guided or coerced by any influence but our own judgement.Three, when we start work on a new idea we must be a year ahead, not only of our competitors, but also of the times. A real film, from idea to universal release, takes a year. Or more.Four, no artist believes in escapism. And we secretly believe that no audience does. We have proved, at any rate, that they will pay to see the truth, for other reasons than her nakedness.Five, at any time, and particularly at the present, the self respect of all collaborators, from star to prop-man, is sustained, or diminished, by the theme and purpose of the film they are working on. They will fight or intrigue to work on a subject they feel is urgent or contemporary, and fight equally hard to avoid working on a trivial or pointless subject. And we agree with them and want the best workmen with us; and get them. These are the main things we believe in. They have brought us an unbroken record of success and a unique position. Without the one, of course, we should not enjoy the other very long. We are under no illusions. We know we are surrounded by hungry sharks. But you have no idea what fun it is surf-bathing, if you have only paddled, with a nurse holding on to the back of your rompers.
We hope you will come on in, the water's fine.