‘ An almost continuous picture of sordid vice ’ : The Keeler Affair , the Profumo Scandal and ‘ Political ’ Film Censorship in the 1960 s

In 1963, the Profumo affair brought Christine Keeler to public attention and transformed her, briefly, into one of the most talked about women in the world. Seeking to exploit her notoriety, Topaz Films entered into an agreement with Keeler to make a cinematic version of her life story, The Keeler Affair. This article explores some of the controversies surrounding The Keeler Affair, especially in terms of the way in which the British Board of Film Censors dealt with the film. The Keeler Affair was submitted to the BBFC on two occasions – once when it was completed and then again in 1969 when Keeler’s memoirs were serialised in the News of the World – and was rejected both times. On the second occasion, The Keeler Affair was also submitted to, and rejected by, the Greater London Council. The article seeks to establish some of the political factors that shaped the BBFC’s and the GLC’s attitudes towards politically contentious films, and demonstrates that the decisions made by the censors were guided not simply by the content of The Keeler Affair, but also by personal relationships, shared Establishment attitudes, concerns about public perceptions of the film industry and a desire not to be drawn into political controversies. Consequently, the article serves to reinforce the idea that censorship is best understood as a dynamic process shaped by a host of determining factors, many of which might best be described as extraor para-cinematic.

The Profumo scandal filled thousands of column inches in 1963, and the Prime Minister, Harold Macmillan, was convinced that the press saw the story as a means of 'getting its own back' on the government following the Vassall affair, an earlier spy scandal (1973:  442). 4Contemporary press coverage contained numerous references to the film that became The Keeler Affair, meaning that it enjoyed an elevated cultural profile that simultaneously grew out of the affair and helped to construct the ways in which the scandal was understood as a cultural event as well as a political one.Indeed, the lasting image of the scandal, Lewis Morley's photograph of a naked Keeler sitting backto-front on a chair, was originally taken as a publicity still for the film. 5his article will explore The Keeler Affair as an element of the Profumo scandal, with particular emphasis on its failure, in Britain at least, to gain certification and a general release.In doing so, it will focus in particular on the roles played and decisions made by the BBFC and the GLC, and establish some of the political factors that shaped these organisations' attitudes towards politically controversial films.Film censorship does not take place in a cultural vacuum, with each production judged against a prescriptive list of dos and don'ts.Rather, organisations responsible for censoring cinematic materials are subject to a variety of constraints and pressures that influence the ways in which individual films are judged at specific times.As will be shown, although The Keeler Affair was assessed for its content (and, in 1963  at least, found wanting), the decisions made by the censors were also guided by personal relationships, concerns about public perceptions of the film industry, and a desire not to make contentious decisions.Consequently, the article serves to reinforce the idea, advanced elsewhere, for example by Macpherson (1980), Kuhn (1988), Street  (2000: 23-38) and Petley (2011), that censorship is best understood as a dynamic process shaped by a host of determining factors, many of which might best be described as extra-or para-cinematic.
For the BBFC, an organisation that sought simultaneously to shape and react to public attitudes to popular culture and was tasked with protecting the interests and reputation of the British film industry from those who might use the content of individual films to damn the medium as a whole, The Keeler Affair proved problematic.Cinemagoers, the film industry, and the nation's selfappointed moral guardians in pulpits, in Parliament, and in the leader columns and letters pages of the press -each wanted the BBFC to prioritise their particular interests, reflect their tastes and pander to their prejudices.In the case of The Keeler Affair, the BBFC's generally liberalising approach to questions of film censorship in the 1960s ran up against, and was limited by, its links with -and, one suspects, broadly sympathetic attitudes to -the conventions, institutions and members of an Establishment that came under considerable scrutiny and pressure in the second half of 1963. 6Yet to focus solely on the suggestion, made by some after both of The Keeler Affair's rejections by the BBFC, that the film had been subject to an act of political censorship is to ignore that the 1960s were marked by both transition and tradition, progressiveness and conservatism: questions of taste, decency and discretion influenced the BBFC's handling of the film, and such questions were further complicated by British society's evolving and sometimes contradictory attitudes to consumerism, sex, 'permissiveness', deference, gender, youth and the role of the media.That The Keeler Affair could still be considered uncertifiable in 1970, that is after the supposedly pervasive social changes said by some to characterise the 1960s had run their course, should encourage us to recognise and assess the ways in which traditional attitudes and Establishment privileges would prove to be a long time dying.
'Morally objectionable': The Keeler Affair and  the BBFC in 1963   The BBFC first learned of the plan to make a film based on Christine Keeler's life when John Nasht submitted a treatment to the Board in the spring of 1963.The proposed film constituted an element of Keeler's attempts -encouraged, if not entirely orchestrated, by the team of managers and business advisors that swiftly surrounded her -to profit financially from what was anticipated to be a transient moment in the spotlight.Such attempts, which appalled many observers, went against what might previously have been expected of a woman in Keeler's position: she did not appear to be ashamed of her life or her actions; she was not willing to accept her lot as a woman of working-class origins; and she was not, most importantly, prepared to stay silent. 7In his memoirs, John Trevelyan, then Secretary of the BBFC, noted that on reading the treatment, which he evidently found distasteful, he was concerned that the film might be defamatory or libellous, and was also worried that it might encourage other young women to ape Keeler in an attempt to seek notoriety and a shortcut to fame and fortune.However, Trevelyan conceded that neither of his concerns constituted 'a legitimate ground for intervention' by the Board, and so he restricted himself to drafting a letter advising Nasht to treat the subject with 'moderation ' (1973: 175-6).
Having drafted his letter, Trevelyan sought out a second opinion from Arnold Goodman, the BBFC's lawyer.Trevelyan claimed that Goodman, who also provided legal advice to Labour Party leader Harold Wilson and was a political insider, had knowledge of the 'full story' of the Profumo affair and consequently knew which way the wind was blowing.Goodman gave his opinion that the Board would be 'fully justified in strongly discouraging' Nasht from making the film (ibid.: 176).Trevelyan, with Goodman's help, wrote a second letter, which was sent to Nasht on 6 May 1963.It adopted a radically different tone: I can hold out no hope that a film made from this treatment, or one dealing with this subject on the lines of this treatment, would be granted any form of certificate by this Board.I could elaborate on the various grounds why, in the public interest, this decision would in my opinion be inevitable, but I feel that these grounds must be apparent to you without further amplification.
Trevelyan added that there was nothing that the BBFC could do to prevent Nasht producing and eventually submitting a film based on Keeler's life, but was very clear that the Board did not want to give 'the slightest encouragement'. 8ithout reference to the treatment, a copy of which does not survive in the BBFC file on The Keeler Affair, it is impossible to know with any certainty which elements of the proposed film exercised the Board, although any speculation would most likely focus on its sexual themes and/or its political implications.Indeed, we cannot be sure that the film as rejected by the censors in December 1963 was the same film as outlined in the treatment dismissed by the Board in May.Trevelyan's belief that it was not necessary for the Board to explain to Nasht precisely why it had taken against his initial treatment for The Keeler Affair was, though, not entirely out of keeping with the BBFC's modus operandi at the time.British film censorship norms were not formally codified, and practitioners were expected simply to know and adhere to certain customs, standards and expectations in relation to what could or could not be done. 9That Nasht sought neither written clarification nor a personal meeting with Trevelyan to discuss The Keeler Affair implies an understanding and an acceptance of the BBFC's reasoning and the way in which it was communicated.The Board's failure to articulate what it found problematic about the treatment is not, therefore, necessarily suspicious.However, it is also possible that Trevelyan was hiding behind the taken-for-grantedness of cinema censorship in order to avoid having to make explicit his political objections to the film, not least because of media interest in the Profumo scandal in general and The Keeler Affair in particular.Simply stating that the 'grounds must be apparent to you without further amplification' ran the risk of appearing deliberately evasive, especially in relation to such a sensitive subject.Other BBFC files from the period make clear that the Board frequently cooperated with British film-makers to refine treatments, scripts and finished films, especially in relation to sexual themes and content, in order that they might be made suitable for certification and release in the United Kingdom.The musical comedy Band of Thieves (1962), for example, contained a number of coarse and sexually suggestive jokes that Trevelyan insisted needed to be removed if the film was to gain a 'U' certificate; the producers cooperated with the Board and the film was certified without issue. 10The BBFC's aim was, wherever practicable, to find ways to pass films rather than reasons to ban them.The Board's decision not to enter into discussions with Nasht as to how he might make The Keeler Affair suitable for certification is therefore unusual, lacking as it does those elements of consensus and compromise that were hallmarks of the BBFC's relationship with the production sector under Trevelyan.
Nasht and the production company Topaz Films decided to press ahead regardless.Costing approximately £100,000, The Keeler Affair starred Yvonne Buckingham as Keeler and John Drew Barrymore as Ward.Robert Spafford directed from a script he had written with Ronald Maxwell and Matt White, two Daily Mirror journalists.The Keeler Affair was eventually filmed in Denmark as a result of the hostility of British unions, particularly Equity, which took exception to the possibility that Keeler might, as was at one time mooted, play herself in the film.Although Topaz was prepared to exploit the cachet provided by having to make The Keeler Affair outside Britain, and would later, in international markets, trade shamelessly on its reputation as having been banned in the United Kingdom, it submitted the film to the BBFC on 18 December 1963 in the hope of being allowed to exhibit it in what would surely have been its most lucrative market.Given Trevelyan's earlier advice, it could have come as little surprise to Nasht that the BBFC rejected The Keeler Affair.Explaining the Board's decision, Trevelyan stressed that the film had been examined on its own merits, and not simply pre-judged as a cinematic adjunct to a political sex scandal.Even so, the Board would 'not be prepared to issue a certificate for the film' as The Keeler Affair presented 'an almost continuous picture of sordid vice, including sexual perversion, and is, in the opinion of this Board, morally objectionable.' 11 Lest Nasht believe that judicious re-editing of the film might satisfy the BBFC, Trevelyan insisted that 'even extensive cutting would not produce a satisfactory solution, since there are several scenes, which have some importance in continuity of narration, which would be completely unacceptable.'Trevelyan concluded by stating explicitly that the BBFC's decision would not be revisited: 'In the circumstances there is no point in your pursuing the matter with this Board.' 12 Although Trevelyan had claimed in 1960 that the Board 'cannot assume responsibility for the guardianship of public morality' and could not reject 'films that show behaviour which contravenes the accepted moral code' nor 'legitimately refuse to pass films which criticise "the Establishment''', he also made it clear that the censors reserved the right to pronounce on which films were 'not suitable for public exhibition even to adults ' (1960: 63).Quite what might render a film unsuitable was, clearly, contingent on a host of extra-cinematic factors that had less to do with the formal content of the film than the social and cultural context in which it was to be released, and also on its likely audience.As Tracy Hargreaves has noted, Trevelyan frequently adopted 'some quite patrician and normative assumptions' when it came to determining whether a film was to be certified (2012: 54), dividing cinema-goers into two categories, 'intelligent people' able to handle more complex and adult themes and content, and 'the great majority of cinema-goers' who were not. 13In this, some of his attitudes chimed -although less colourfully -with those expressed by Mervyn Griffiths-Jones, who, as prosecuting counsel at the Lady Chatterley's Lover obscenity trial in 1960, famously asked the jury if D. H. Lawrence's book was one 'that you would even wish your wife or your servants to read?' It was Nasht's misfortune that The Keeler Affair was submitted to the BBFC at a time when, as John Sutherland put it, Britain was subject to 'one of its periodic fits of punitive moralism about "vice''', a fit that was prompted in part by the very scandal that Nasht's film was seeking to exploit (1982: 36).Needing to protect the reputation of the film industry during a period in which there was something akin to a witch-hunt for cultural materials which had the potential to affront public morality -Fanny Hill was prosecuted under the Obscene Publications Act in late 1963, a decision that the Labour MP Leo Abse related directly to the moral convulsions prompted by the Profumo affair 14 -the BBFC felt discretion to be the better part of valour.The producer Anthony Perry, for example, claimed that Trevelyan advised him to 'postpone' submitting The Party's Over to the Board during the second half of 1963 as a direct consequence of the Keeler affair -'[there's] enough depravity around at the moment' (Ardagh 1963: 1) -while in the People, 14 July 1963, Perry's film was lumped together with The Keeler Affair as egregious examples of 'the more sordid type of "X'' certificate films'.
Tribune's J. D. S. Haworth attended a screening of The Keeler Affair in Boston, Massachusetts, during the summer of 1964.Although in Variety, 20 May 1964, the National Legion of Decency was reported as condemning The Keeler Affair for its 'irresponsible exploitation of a contemporary sex scandal', the film was passed for exhibition, with many American cinemas seeking to highlight as attractions exactly those elements that the Legion had found so abhorrent.Haworth conceded that The Keeler Affair was 'no masterpiece' and 'cheap to a degree that hardly seemed possible', but was adamant that, despite these faults, 'it should still be exhibited in this country [i.e.Britain]', arguing that 'nothing in its content fell within the legitimate considerations of the censor who has confused (or, more likely, had confused for him) the difference between embarrassment and moral indignation ' (1964: 15).It seems likely that Haworth's attitude to the film was, in part, politically motivated: Tribune was a left-leaning publication, and he clearly regarded The Keeler Affair as a wasted opportunity to lay bare the failings of the Conservative political elite as represented by Profumo and Macmillan.
Haworth's rebuke to the censor is the only explicit reference to the BBFC's December 1963 decision that I have been able to find in the British press either at the time of the decision or in its immediate aftermath.This, though, is not to say that Fleet Street had either forgotten about or ceased to be interested in The Keeler Affair, and in summer and autumn 1964, at least three reviews of the film were published in British newspapers.None of these articles, however, referred directly to the BBFC's decision not to certify the film.In the Guardian, 11 July 1964, Peter Preston's review made great play of the fact that he watched The Keeler Affair in Belgium, but offers no explanation why -readers are left to form their own conclusions.On 23 July, the Financial Times's Elliott Stein referred repeatedly in his piece to having seen the film in Paris, but was teasingly cryptic about why he'd had to view it there, noting simply that The Keeler Affair 'will probably never grace a single screen in Great Britain', and that this situation would change only if 'Mr Trevelyan' chose to 'vouchsafe [British cinemagoers] a peek at the film'.There is no mention of the Board, and no attempt to explain who Trevelyan is -he might, for instance, have been the film's distributor.Consequently, the reference remains oblique, understandable only to those in the know, and it is, of course, difficult to judge how large a group this constituted as far the readership of the Financial Times in the mid-1960s is concerned.
On 11 October 1964, the Sunday Telegraph ran a caustic review of The Keeler Affair written by Anthony Haden-Guest, who had, he informed readers, watched the film at the Aloha cinema in Helsinki.Again, the exact reasons why Haden-Guest had been obliged to travel to Finland to see the film are left unexplained.The fact that the BBFC is not mentioned in these reviews does not in itself provide conclusive proof that British newspapers were instructed or encouraged to steer clear of the subject, but the fact that none of them mentions the Board's decision while all make it clear that they had been obliged to watch the film outside the United Kingdom is an intriguing coincidence.
The lack of mention of the BBFC is all the more curious given both that so much attention had been paid to the film during its production and that the film was inherently (although obliquely) political in nature.Although it concentrated on the relationship between Keeler and Ward rather than on the affair between Profumo and Keelerto the extent that John Drew Barrymore insisted that the film could be understood as 'a modern cross between Svengali and Pygmalion' (Dodd 1963: 4) -The Keeler Affair arose out of a set of circumstances that, due to the involvement of a government minister and a Soviet diplomat, were intimately associated with the political culture of the day and also with politics as a cultural phenomenon.Haworth certainly saw the BBFC's rejection of The Keeler Affair as a political act, and criticised the British censor's refusal to certify the film as 'an indefensible political extension of his duties' (1964: 15, emphasis in original).
Haworth did not state explicitly that the BBFC came under pressure from the government or the political class to reject The Keeler Affair, and I have not found any documentation in the archives to suggest that the Board arrived at its decision anything other than independently.However, given that Julian Petley (2013: 157-60; 2016a: 147-58) has demonstrated that direct political interference in the workings and policies of the BBFC was not limited to the pre-war period, as was once supposed, but has carried on to much nearer the present day, it would not necessarily be far-fetched to entertain the suggestion that the BBFC was, directly or indirectly, made aware of the government's disapproval of a film on such a delicate and embarrassing subject.Indeed, Fleet Street gossip posited that the Board had discouraged the production of The Keeler Affair 'on direct instructions from Downing Street', a rumour that Trevelyan went out of his way to deny in his memoirs.Trevelyan also insisted that the BBFC had not sought out instructions from 'anyone connected with the Government' but also noted that it would have been reasonable for it to do so should it so have wished, 'since we were not in any way under Government control '  (1973: 177-8).
Although this was, technically, true, it cannot be denied that the BBFC swam in political waters.It often worked in consultation with other bodies, both connected to and independent of the state, to ensure that films did not break the various laws that governed cinematic exhibition in Britain.Furthermore, its leadership, particularly its presidents, 'frequently had political connections' in order that the Board might work with the government and the civil service to ensure that its voice was heard when it came to the drafting of legislation that touched on questions of film censorship (Street 2000:  24-5).Lord Morrison of Lambeth, President of the BBFC between 1960 and 1965, had himself been Home Secretary, deputy Prime Minister and leader of the London County Council; his appointment was mooted by the Board precisely because of his political connections.Yet the same connections that gave the Board access to Whitehall also gave Whitehall access to the Board, not least because Morrison, like his successor Lord Harlech, was appointed only after what Trevelyan described as 'private consultation with the Home Secretary and the associations of local authorities ' (1973: 71).Clearly, both the BBFC and the government saw it as being mutually beneficial that the president of the BBFC was able to act as a conduit between them.
Haworth continued his attack on the BBFC in April 1965, reiterating his claim that The Keeler Affair had been rejected on 'political' grounds, and asserting that, in a conversation with Trevelyan, the censor had 'readily admitted ' as much (1965a: 15).Trevelyan wrote to Tribune to deny this, asserting: 'I have never stated that the Board's reason was a "political one''.Indeed in any public statement about this film I have made it clear that the Board's decision was made on ordinary censorship grounds ' (1965: 8).This is, perhaps, a slightly disingenuous statement, for in his memoirs, Trevelyan admitted that the Board was concerned that it would open itself up to criticism if it passed a film in which Profumo 'featured prominently'.Political considerations were evidently important, and Trevelyan's relief that the film's sexual content provided the BBFC with alternative grounds to reject The Keeler Affair is almost palpable (1973: 177).
Haworth was not prepared to back down and recalled a telephone conversation with Trevelyan in August 1964 in which the censor agreed that it [The Keeler Affair] was not beyond redemption by an 'X' certificate on the grounds of its semi-nude scenes and sniggering dialogue . . .and agreed that the political inexpedience of allowing the film's exhibition at that time -so close to the General Election -was taken into account and weighed conclusively in the Board's decision.(1965b: 8)   Trevelyan might have pointed to the fact that when The Keeler Affair was rejected in December 1963, it was not known when the general election would take place and, therefore, that the election could have played no part in the BBFC's decision. 15Haworth, by contrast, might have observed that British electoral law meant that the election had to take place at some point before the end of October 1964, and that, with this in mind, the BBFC did not want to run the risk of certifying the film only to see Parliament dissolved soon afterwards.At the time that Haworth claims to have spoken to Trevelyan, the election had not been called, although Alec Douglas-Home, Macmillan's successor, had embarked on a lengthy pre-election campaign.If Haworth couched his inquiry about The Keeler Affair in hypothetical terms, it is possible that Trevelyan answered in a similar manner.From such a conversation, misunderstandings might easily arise.As Guy Phelps wryly commented, the disagreement between Haworth and Trevelyan 'probably reflects no more than the dangers of interview by telephone '  (1975: 154).
Nevertheless, Haworth's claims make it clear that, in certain circles, the BBFC's rejection of The Keeler Affair was considered to constitute an act of political censorship; stopping the film from enjoying a general release was part of an attempt to limit the cultural repercussions of the Profumo scandal and so avoid causing any further embarrassment to Profumo or the Establishment circles in which he had moved.This was an idea that would be expressed more widely, and more forcefully, when, in 1970, The Keeler Affair was rejected by the BBFC for a second time.
'Likely to corrupt and deprave': The Keeler Affair and the BBFC and GLC in 1969-70 In early 1969, the News of the World, then Britain's biggest selling Sunday newspaper, came under the ownership of Rupert Murdoch.Murdoch was eager to increase both the paper's profile and its sales, and hit upon the idea of publishing an updated version of Keeler's memoirs, for which he paid £21,000.The first in a series of weekly instalments was published on 28 September 1969 and, with Keeler in the limelight once more, on 21 October 1969 the BBFC was asked to reassess The Keeler Affair in the hope that its distributors might be able to exploit renewed public interest in its subject. 16urdoch's decision to publish the Keeler memoirs was intensely controversial.Since his resignation, Profumo had dedicated himself to charitable work in the East End of London, and it was felt that by dragging his past indiscretions back into the limelight, the News of the World was being unfair and wilfully hurtful.Indeed, much of the coverage of the News of the World's decision to publish Keeler's memoirs went out of its way not to mention Profumo by name; he was most often referred to simply as a former cabinet minister, although so intertwined were the public profiles of Keeler and Profumo that it is doubtful that this offered him much protection.Although the public's continued interest in Keeler's life was demonstrated by the fact that the publication of her memoirs would boost the News of the World's weekly sales by some 300,000 copies, there does appear to have been widespread sympathy for Profumo and a fair degree of hostility directed at both Murdoch and Keeler (Petley  2016b: 252-5).Film-makers John Boulting, Sidney Gilliat and Frank Launder, then directors of British Lion, had a letter published in The Times, 25 September 1969, which proposed that as the events of the Profumo affair 'had now passed into a history whose pages should properly, and fairly, remain closed during the lifetime of the principal participants' the decision to reanimate the scandal 'suggests an act of journalistic exhumation that is positively ghoulish' (Keeler's response was published on 30 September).Claiming that 'a considerable section of public opinion is offended by the series', on 2 October 1969 the Independent Television Authority (ITA) banned ITV stations from carrying commercials for the News of the World that mentioned Keeler or her memoirs (quoted in Irwin 1969: 1).On 4 October, the Daily Mirror quoted a News of the World spokesman who attacked the decision as 'censorship' and an 'abuse of the powers of the ITA'.Both the BBC and ITV announced that planned appearances by Keeler had been scrapped; Keeler regarded this as evidence that 'someone, somewhere [was] putting the pressure on ' (2002: 239).
By the time that The Keeler Affair was resubmitted to the BBFC, rights in the film had been acquired by Parcon Distribution, which appears to have been jointly owned by Tom Parkinson and David Conyers.Shortly afterwards, ownership of The Keeler Affair was transferred to David Conyers Productions, a company which counted among its directors Conyers, Parkinson and also John Nasht. 17In October 1969, Trevelyan informed Parkinson that before the BBFC came to a decision about The Keeler Affair, he thought it 'advisable' to consult Lord Harlech. 18he fact that Trevelyan sought guidance from Harlech, and was not prepared to make a decision until the President had seen the film, gives a clear indication that The Keeler Affair, the events it portrayed and the lives it described were still deemed to be potentially contentious.19 Harlech, who had taken over from Morrison as the Board's President in 1965, was a former Conservative MP who, as David Ormsby-Gore, had served alongside Profumo in Macmillan's government, with both of them for a short period acting as joint Ministers of State for Foreign Affairs.It is unclear whether Trevelyan was aware of Harlech's connection to Profumo, but it seems unlikely that he would not have acquainted himself with Harlech's previous positions at the time of his appointment.Whether or not Trevelyan was aware of it, Harlech's link to Profumo surely constituted a conflict of interest as far as The Keeler Affair was concerned.Harlech, however, proved to be a difficult man to pin down, and was not able to attend a screening of the film until 11 March 1970, with much of this delay the result of Harlech's wedding and subsequent honeymoon.
This tardiness must have been intensely frustrating for a distributor seeking to exploit the renewed topicality of the film, but suited the Board very well, as it permitted it to make and announce its decision well after the storms of protest attending the News of the World's publication of the Keeler memoirs had blown over.Indeed, for all that there was much public criticism of the News of the World and a feeling among many newspapers that the Profumo affair was now probably best left alone, sections of Fleet Street felt that the actions of the Press Council, which had sought to dissuade the paper from publishing the Keeler memoirs and then censured it when it did so, came close to curtailing the freedom of the press.As the Daily Mail, 7 October 1969, put it: We regard the Keeler memoirs as sleazy and stale stuff.But that is no argument for trying to censor them . . .Free speech means what it says.It means freedom for silly or tasteless words just as for the wise and noble.It is not for the law to decide questions of taste.Every journalist must argue those out with his own conscience.And he must do so without fear of 'the men in power'.
When The Keeler Affair came before the BBFC for a second time, the idea that the Establishment was trying to quash stories that it found uncomfortable or embarrassing was, once again, current.
On 11 March 1970, Harlech was joined at the BBFC screening by Trevelyan and the same two examiners who had rejected the film in 1963.The examiners' report noted that although 'a certain amount of material (about Profumo) has been added since we saw the film in 1963', changes to what was deemed acceptable in terms of sexual content meant that 'there was nothing in it that was now censorable.' 20 Harlech and Goodman concurred that 'on the face of it', The Keeler Affair did not appear libellous. 21(Although libel was not something that the BBFC was required to consider, the Board treated films that contained potentially libellous material in an extremely cautious manner, wary of being dragged onto the front pages or into the courts.)Further, the censors agreed that 'by present day standards the film would not be regarded as visually offensive to most of the audiences that would go to this type of entertainment'. 22Under Trevelyan, the BBFC had become a more liberal, and some might suggest liberalising, organisation.Images of sexual activity (especially, although not exclusively, heterosexual), nudity (especially, although not exclusively, female) and dialogue of an adult nature had all become, to varying degrees and within limits, more acceptable to the Board.As such, The Keeler Affair's shots of partial nudity, or sequences suggestive of sexual activity, were no longer grounds for the BBFC to reject the film; there was nothing contained in it that could not be put out under an 'X' certificate.
The Keeler Affair was, however, rejected again, although it would be early May 1970 before its distributors were informed of this fact.In the intervening period, Trevelyan and Harlech, in consultation with Goodman, sought to justify the Board's decision, conscious that 'the exact wording' of the letter outlining the grounds on which the BBFC rejected the film was 'important, since it may well be disclosed to the Press'. 23For Trevelyan's benefit, Harlech laid out the 'wider social grounds' that underpinned his objections to The Keeler Affair: I cannot believe that it is in the public interest of the film industry, that we should give our approval to a piece which exploits a comparatively recent series of court cases, as a result of which one man (the black musician) gets a seven year prison sentence, another commits suicide and a proven prostitute [sic] obtains world-wide notoriety. 24e fact that Keeler had been paid for her story, both by the press and for the film, exercised Harlech, who thought it grossly unethical [that Keeler should] make a profit out of the exploitation of a story which brought ruin and even death to some of the participants who have friends and relations still living.We at the Board ought not to be seen to condone such activities. 25iven that the death referred to by Harlech, that of Stephen Ward, was little mourned by those in power at the time, but has since come to be regarded by those such as Geoffrey Robertson (2013), Anthony Summers and Stephen Dorril (2013) and Caroline Kennedy  and Phillip Knightley (2015) as a consequence of Establishment scapegoating, at least some of the purported concern contained in these words might be dismissed as little more than cant.
At a face-to-face meeting on 7 May 1970, Trevelyan informed Conyers that the BBFC would reject The Keeler Affair, and three weeks later the Board sent Conyers a letter laying out the reasons that had informed its decision. 26The Board acknowledged that while it 'could not raise objection to the visual material or to the dialogue', nor could it ignore the broader 'social issues' generated by a possible release of The Keeler Affair (that is, the payment of Keeler, the exploitation of a recent court case and consideration of those affected by the Profumo scandal).Thus: If the Board passed the film for general exhibition it would be subjected to public criticism . . .Since one of the reasons for the setting up of this Board many years ago was to protect the industry from public criticism, he believes that this is a matter about which we should be cautious.
Trevelyan stressed that this was a decision handed down by Lord Harlech: 'Lord Harlech has asked me to tell you that he does not feel able to agree at the present time to the issuing of a certificate for this film.' 27Trevelyan interacted with film-makers and distributors on a daily basis, so wording the letter in this way might simply have been an act of deflection, using Harlech as a lightning rod in order to make his own job as Secretary slightly easier.It might also, though, suggest that Trevelyan's own liberalising instincts had, in this instance, come into conflict with organisational objectives.
Trevelyan himself admitted to Today's Cinema, 21 July 1970, that refusing a certificate 'for reasons of public policy' was an unprecedented decision for the Board.Further, Trevelyan told Today's Cinema, 29 January 1971, that the News of the World had been 'censored [sic] by the Press Council' for publishing Keeler's memoirs, and the Board therefore 'felt justified in not passing the film now because we would put ourselves in the same position.'This rather ignores the fact that the BBFC was, in this situation, acting in a role equivalent to that of the Press Council in the sense that it was acting as a guardian of public morals and so determining what was deemed to be acceptable for public consumption.The Board, though, seems to have been more concerned that it might be thought of as acting in a manner akin to The News of the World -recalling public criticism of that paper, Trevelyan conceded that 'we thought that we would probably get the same'.
As it transpired, not certifying The Keeler Affair for public exhibition brought about criticism too.Conyers, as Trevelyan had anticipated, went to the press and was quoted in the People, 5 July 1970, as saying that 'it is a mild film, but this is probably the most world-shattering story this century.I think the Board are on pretty dodgy ground not issuing a certificate for the reasons they have given.'Michael Billington, writing in the Illustrated London News on 13 February 1971, agreed, arguing that if 'it is possible to read about Miss Keeler's life, it is surely logical to be allowed to see a film on the same subject.'Whereas Trevelyan and Harlech claimed that the BBFC's actions were determined by 'wider social grounds', others, such as Derek Hill, saw the Board as acting in a narrowly political manner.Hill was appalled by the BBFC's handling of The Keeler Affair, and proclaimed that the Board's refusal to certify it on grounds that did not relate to its actual content constituted an act of 'political censorship', a description that even The Times 'reluctantly' suspected was apt (quoted in Phelps 1975:  154).By way of protest, Hill organised a screening of The Keeler Affair on 9 February 1971 at the New Cinema Club, which, as a private members club, did not require the films it screened to be certified (Hill,  quoted in Bentley 1971: 31). 28On 5 February, the Morning Star railed that The Keeler Affair's tortured history offered 'further evidence of the folly and dangers of censorship' and boldly declared that the film's problems 'obviously' had 'more to do with the protection of political interests than with the so-called protection of public morality'.In the Guardian, 4 February 1971, Derek Malcolm applauded Hill's gesture, agreeing with Hill that the BBFC had refused to certify The Keeler Affair for political reasons and that, consequently, watching the film constituted an act of dissent.Both Hill and Malcolm agreed that this was pretty much the only reason to watch the film.The Keeler Affair was, Hill admitted cheerfully, 'the worst film ever presented at this establishment' while Malcolm thought it 'scarcely worth seeing even as a curiosity'. 29(As far as I can ascertain, the New Cinema Club screening remains the only occasion to date at which The Keeler Affair has been exhibited before an audience in Britain.) Having been told that the BBFC would not certify The Keeler Affair, Conyers contacted the Greater London Council (GLC) with an eye to gaining permission to exhibit the film at licensed cinemas in the capital.In Britain, local councils retained the right to override the Board's classification of films when it came to their exhibition at venues within their jurisdiction, although almost all of them accepted (and continue to accept) certification from the BBFC as proof that a film is suitable for public display.Conyers's decision, then, sought to find a route to exhibition that would not have to pass through the BBFC and its concerns about protecting the reputation of the British film industry.Furthermore, Conyers was very clear about his reasons for approaching the GLC: 'According to applicant BBFC is experiencing difficulty with this film due partly to possible political repercussions and partly to public reaction to the . . .publication of Miss K's memoirs.' 30 One of the first things that the GLC did upon receipt of Conyers's application was to contact the BBFC.On 17 May, that is more than ten days before he wrote formally to advise Conyers of the BBFC's decision, Trevelyan sent the GLC a letter which admitted that The Keeler Affair had 'presented the Board with a problem'.Trevelyan noted that the film could be passed as an 'X' were it not for 'important questions of social responsibility', and then rehearsed the Board's position on 'this girl' (namely Keeler, then 27) receiving 'further publicity and possible financial benefit from the film's exhibition.'The 'strong public reaction' provoked by the News of the World's publication of Keeler's memoirs was also invoked as a reason not to pass the film. 31he Keeler Affair was shown to members of the GLC's Film Viewing Sub-Committee on 13 July 1970.They, too, rejected the film, as did Essex and Berkshire county councils, representatives of which had also attended the screening.The following day, Peter Malynn, chair of the sub-committee and Conservative member for Haringey, explained in a press release how 'the ban was made under a Council rule which states that no film shall be exhibited at Council-licensed premises if the effect, taken as a whole, tends to deprave and corrupt persons who are likely to see it.' 32When Conyers learned, through the press, of the GLC's decision, he was incredulous.How, exactly, was the film expected to deprave and corrupt?'If anything,' he asserted, 'it takes a moral attitude which many people might regard as virtuous to the point of prudishness.' 33Conyers received a terse reply containing a copy of the press release and little else: 'I have no further comment to make on the Council's decision.' 34f the GLC was reluctant to talk directly to Conyers about its decision, it was far less reticent about talking to the press.Speaking to the London Evening Standard, Malynn described how The Keeler Affair -which he called 'incredibly dull, very bad, with no entertainment value whatever' -had made him feel 'a bit morally sick'.This, the Standard noted on 16 July 1970, was in itself no grounds for banning the film, so Malynn was asked to expand upon the reasons why it might be expected to deprave and corrupt.In response, he claimed that a film 'showing "that you can get away with it in real life'' might have a bad effect on young girls coming up to London'.Elsewhere, Malynn pointed to 'a scene which shows pot smoking' to justify the sub-committee's decision. 35All in all, these seemed fairly innocuous grounds on which to prohibit the public exhibition of a film.In The Listener, 11 February 1971, Gavin Millar called the GLC's actions a 'transparent smokescreen'-it should be noted that, at the time, the GLC had a Conservative majority -and reiterated claims that this was in all likelihood an act of political censorship, making a much bolder claim regarding the reasons for it: 'Ward was made a scapegoat and this uncomfortable truth, it seems, must be suppressed.' The sub-committee was not unanimous in its decision, and at least one member put forward a dissenting opinion.Although no fan of The Keeler Affair, which he thought to be 'a pathetic film, not worth banning except to prevent boredom', Ellis Hillman, a Labour councillor, called the publicly stated reasons for refusing a certificate 'ridiculous'.Rather, he said, 'if they . . .had mentioned Profumo, that would have been the right reason.'This led the Standard to ask on 16 July 1970 if the members of the sub-committee had in mind 'the thought that it would be wrong at this stage to drag up once more the Profumo affair'.
Such a public expression of dissent from within the GLC cannot but have fed Conyers's growing sense of injustice.Furthermore, the New Cinema Club screening in February 1971 was, as noted above, widely discussed in the press in terms that were not entirely sympathetic to those who would prevent The Keeler Affair enjoying a widespread release.On 6 April 1971, Conyers arranged to meet with Malynn in the hope of persuading the GLC to reconsider its decision.This meeting was described as 'unfortunate' by Mark Patterson, now chair of the Film Viewing Sub-Committee, since 'it was clear that the [GLC's] position was very precarious and likely to lead to misunderstandings.' 36 Misunderstandings did, indeed, arise.Conyers pressed for a more detailed explanation of how the film might deprave and corrupt, and pointed to press reaction to the ban to strengthen his position; no satisfactory explanation appears to have been forthcoming.When Conyers started to talk about 'political hypocrisy', Malynn fanned the flames of the distributor's ire by asking him 'what he understood by the phrase'. 37Conyers then claimed that he had infiltrated the Council's screening of The Keeler Affair and alleged '"collusion'' among the various authorities etc.' before stalking out, 'stating that he was among political gangsters and uttering vague threats about the Council hearing from his solicitors.' 38 A letter from Conyers's solicitor was duly dispatched.This also described the way in which the meeting had panned out as 'unfortunate' and conceded that Conyers's behaviour might have been counterproductive: 'It would appear that the discussion at the meeting took a course not entirely relevant to our client's objectnamely to seek reconsideration of the [Council's] decision'. 39Conyers's conduct at his meeting with Malynn is unlikely to have won him any new friends at the GLC, but it is also unlikely to have affected the sub-committee's decision to refuse to revisit the film.Rather, two factors were uppermost in the Council's mind.First was the desire to demonstrate that the Council could not simply be pushed around 'if enough pressure is exerted'. 40Second was the belief that the Film Viewing Sub-Committee was under no obligation to entertain Conyers's request for a second assessment; its purpose was, essentially, 'to see films . . ."on appeal'' from decisions of the British Board of Film Censors' and, as such, was the final court of appeal and its decisions could not be overturned. 41With the GLC having prohibited the exhibition of The Keeler Affair in London, there were few options left to Conyers as he sought to gain a return on his investment.With licensed cinemas beyond his reach, Conyers started to hawk the film around club cinemas which specialised in sexually explicit material.In late July 1970, the directors of the Tatler Cinema Club, a chain of sex cinemas, watched The Keeler Affair but decided against screening it in their venues.Conyers found that time was against him; a film that had in 1963 been denied certification on the grounds of its sexual themes and imagery was, by the end of the decade, pretty tame stuff.As G. W. Rhodes of the Tatler cinema club told Conyers: 'Our views are not those of the Censorship Authorities, but we feel that there is too little overt sex in this film for it to be a real interest to our . . .members.' 42

Conclusion
In 1964, Raymond Durgnat lamented the tendency of so many British film-makers to remain, politically speaking, so non-committal on potentially controversial issues: 'This neutrality', he proclaimed, 'often implies obscurantism and complaisance . . .To sit on the fence is a failure to tackle the theme properly.'To leave film in the hands of those who sought only to entertain was to risk marginalising the belief that a cinema of conviction was not only possible but, in some cases, actively desirable.Durgnat recounted a conversation he had with an unnamed British director, to whom he posed the question: 'If you had a chance, would you make a film based on the Profumo Affair?'He continued: 'The response was three-stage.First, what we might call the glare of silence; then, "Oh no, I couldn't possibly . . .''; and then a wistful: "But what a dramatic story it would make . . .''.And last a sudden recovery: "Ah, but what about Parnell . . .?''' Durgnat described this 'fighting retreat from today's bannerlines to yesterday's now innocuous scandals' as being 'all too typical': 'The present,' he observed laconically, 'is so vulgar, the past so romantic ' (1964: 9).We might add to this: the present, with its opportunities for libel suits and its aggressive lawyers, is so contentious, the past so much less likely to antagonise the censor.
The reluctance of more accomplished British film-makers in the first-half of the 1960s to tackle directly an issue such as the Profumo affair left the field open to exploitation film producers such as John Nasht and companies such as Topaz Films.The result was, artistically and narratively, patchy, and it is likely that even if it had made it to British cinema screens, The Keeler Affair would probably have remained little more than a curio, notable almost entirely for its desire to put Keeler herself on the screen and its shameless attempt to cash in on a famous scandal.But the fact remains that The Keeler Affair did not make it to British cinema screens, and this matters, not least because the way in which the film was treated by the BBFC, which both discouraged its production and then twice rejected it, gives rise to the uncomfortable suspicion that it was decided that The Keeler Affair might best be swept under the carpet.Indeed, this accords with the treatment of Keeler herself, who was treated very badly in the wake of the Profumo scandal  (Davenport-Hines 2013: 340-2).By failing to certify The Keeler Affair, the BBFC no doubt acted in its own organisational interests as the protector of the British film industry, as well as what it believed to be the wider interests of the British cinema-going public and the society that they inhabited.As such, the decisions relating to The Keeler Affair would appear to conform to the idea that the BBFC reaches its decisions in part as a result of forces and institutions acting upon it (Petley 2011: 4).In 1960, Derek Hill decried what he saw as the BBFC's supine attitude in relation to powerful political institutions, stating that it was 'responsive to the influence of successive Governments while maintaining the appearance of independence ' (1960: 53).In response Trevelyan, thinking no doubt of direct political interference in the work of the BBFC rather than the indirect influence of shared attitudes and expectations, was quick to reject this claim, arguing that the Board 'claims to be independent, and it is independent ' (1960: 62).But then, to paraphrase Mandy Rice-Davies, he would say that, wouldn't he?