The Edge Of The World (1937)
- Soames Inscker

- Apr 18
- 4 min read
Updated: Jun 7

Overview
The Edge of the World is the haunting debut feature by Michael Powell, later famed for his partnership with Emeric Pressburger on classics like A Matter of Life and Death and Black Narcissus. But even in this early solo effort, Powell’s signature themes are present: man's relationship to nature, the clash of tradition and modernity, and a profound sense of place.
Shot on location in the remote Scottish archipelago of Foula in the Shetlands, the film tells a fictionalized version of the evacuation of St. Kilda, an isolated island whose dwindling population was forced to leave in 1930. The story unfolds like a fable or a memory, filled with wind-swept cliffs, stark morality, and a tragic inevitability. It’s a minor-key masterpiece—quiet, reflective, and deeply moving.
Plot Summary (Spoiler-Free)

The film begins with a modern framing device: a yacht brings a visitor (played by Michael Powell himself) to a deserted island called Hirta. He meets the lone remaining inhabitant, who recounts the story of how the island came to be abandoned.
The main narrative then unfolds in flashback. On Hirta, two families—the Mansons and the Grays—struggle to sustain a way of life that is centuries old but no longer viable. Young lovers Ruth Manson (Belle Chrystall) and Andrew Gray (Eric Berry) dream of a future together, but face a fundamental divide between those who wish to stay and preserve the island’s traditions, and those who feel compelled to leave in search of opportunity and survival.
Central to the drama is Peter Manson (John Laurie), Ruth’s brother, whose stubborn refusal to abandon the island leads to conflict with Andrew and ultimately tragedy.
Tone and Approach
The Edge of the World is less a traditional drama and more a lyrical elegy, told with a documentary-like eye for detail and a poetic sensibility. There’s little in the way of conventional plot twists; instead, the film draws power from its sense of fatalism—we know, from the start, that this way of life is dying.
Powell's direction favours stillness, silence, and stark imagery over exposition or melodrama. The film is remarkably sparse in dialogue, allowing the landscape to speak. Cliffs, crashing waves, and the cries of seabirds serve as a Greek chorus of sorts, commenting silently on human frailty and transience.
Direction and Cinematography
Michael Powell’s direction is assured and remarkably sophisticated for a first-time feature director. His love of the natural world is evident in every frame. Shot by cinematographer Erwin Hillier, the film uses the dramatic geography of Foula to full effect: towering cliffs, misty ridges, and treacherous seas dominate the mise-en-scène, making the island both beautiful and unforgiving.
Hillier and Powell use a style that mixes expressionism with realism. While the film feels grounded in its depiction of everyday island life—fishing, farming, weathered cottages—it also evokes mythic undertones, especially in the scenes of the cliffside duel, or the haunting long shots of islanders gazing at the sea.
Performances
John Laurie as Peter Manson
Best known today for his later work in Dad’s Army, Laurie gives a ferocious, emotionally raw performance as the stubborn patriarch trying to hold his island and family together. His final scenes, filled with guilt and grief, are among the most powerful in the film.
Belle Chrystall as Ruth Manson

Chrystall brings tenderness and quiet strength to the role of Ruth. She is the film’s emotional anchor—a young woman caught between love, loyalty to her heritage, and the pull of modernity.
Eric Berry as Andrew Gray
Berry plays Andrew with sincerity and moral conviction. He is a gentle progressive in a world resistant to change, and his struggle to balance love with principle gives the film its tragic spine.
Finlay Currie and Kitty Kirwan
Supporting players like Currie and Kirwan add depth and authenticity. Their weathered faces and measured performances lend the island community an almost documentary realism.
Themes and Subtext
The Edge of the World is rich in thematic depth, operating both as a human drama and a broader allegory:
The Death of Tradition: At its heart, the film mourns the passing of a way of life—self-sufficient, insular, and deeply connected to the natural world.
Man vs. Nature: Nature is not an antagonist, but a force indifferent to human desire. The sea provides and punishes; the cliffs shelter and doom.
Modernity vs. Heritage: The film explores the psychological and cultural trauma of abandoning home in the name of progress.
Masculinity and Pride: Peter’s downfall is rooted in pride and stoicism—a refusal to yield to new realities, even at the cost of others’ happiness.
Nostalgia and Memory: The framing device suggests not just a recounting of the past, but a longing to remember, understand, and preserve it.
Technical and Artistic Merits
The film’s production was famously arduous, involving Powell and his small cast and crew living on Foula for months with minimal resources. This dedication pays off in the raw authenticity of the film. From real cliff climbing to storm-battered boats, there’s a tangible sense of danger and effort in every shot.
The use of natural sound, the sparse but effective music score, and the rhythm of island life are captured with near-ethnographic sensitivity. The dialogue is often delivered in a mix of Scottish accents and Hebridean idioms, grounding the film in a very specific place and time.
Despite its modest budget and runtime, The Edge of the World achieves an epic emotional scale, not through spectacle, but through stillness, mood, and meaning.
Legacy and Influence
Though not a commercial hit on release, The Edge of the World grew in stature over time. It has been cited as an influence on directors like Werner Herzog, Bill Forsyth, and even Terrence Malick, who share Powell’s reverence for landscape and mood.
The film was eventually restored by the BFI and included in retrospectives of Powell’s career. In 1978, Powell returned to Foula to make a short documentary titled Return to the Edge of the World, revisiting the island and his surviving cast members, underscoring the film’s lasting impact.
Conclusion
The Edge of the World is not just a film—it’s a cinematic lament, a wind-swept ballad about change, memory, and the things we leave behind. It offers a deeply personal vision of community, pride, and loss, painted against one of the most dramatic landscapes ever captured on film. For those willing to surrender to its rhythm, it is a quietly devastating and unforgettable experience.




