Oxford on-screen: Historical atmosphere and fantasy worlds

There are many questions you inevitably get asked when you tell someone you go to Oxford, ranging from the extent of the workload, the quality of the nightlife, and whether everyone you’ve met actually went to private school.

“Is it just like Hogwarts?” is a more outlandish query, and yet I’ve found it to be one that is just as common. On more than one occasion, I have been asked how much Oxford really resembles this fictional setting of the Harry Potter movies. Although much of the childhood nostalgia for this series has been soured by its author’s political output on social media, it remains widely popular, and many of its fans associate its magical school with the city and the University of Oxford.

The fact that parts of the Harry Potter movies were filmed in Oxford is a fun piece of trivia that has become common knowledge, and is frankly difficult to ignore when the city centre is replete with tourist shops full of merchandise – including a rather off-putting sculpture of Dobby in the window of one on Broad Street – not to mention the tourists themselves, often decked out head-to-toe in the Hogwarts uniform, sporting cloaks, ties, and wands.

Even my own college, Wadham, which makes no appearance in the Harry Potter films and sports architecture probably too Jacobean to truly embody Hogwarts’ medieval allure, is frequently bombarded with tourists in such elaborate fancy dress.

A range of locations in Oxford appear in these movies, and in slightly different ways. While the Divinity School and the Duke Humfrey’s Library provided actual filming locations for the Hogwarts Infirmary and Library, respectively, Christ Church’s Hall acted as the main inspiration for the Great Hall seen on-screen. Moreover, Christ Church was not the only college to make it into the films; a scene in the fourth instalment in the franchise was famously filmed in New College’s courtyard.

Aspects of a film, such as the script, the acting, or the music, are more conventional areas of focus for analysis than filming location, and yet the latter contributes much to a film’s atmosphere, especially when the setting is fictional. In the case of the Harry Potter series, Oxford’s medieval architecture affords the fantastical Hogwarts with a sense of mystery and romance that enhances the magical atmosphere. The authenticity of these historic buildings makes the setting more immersive; you really get the sense that this is an ancient castle with years of history and many secrets to explore.

And yet old buildings do not only evoke feelings of magic and excitement, a fact shown by another movie that makes use of Oxford as a filming location.

Another Country (1984) centres around Guy Bennett – based on Guy Burgess, a member of the Cambridge Five – a Soviet double agent whose experience at a British public school in the 1930s, as a young gay man dealing with romance, conflict, and persecution, lays the groundwork for his eventual defection.

Here, the filming location does something slightly different. The medieval architecture confers a sense of prestige associated with a long history, imbuing the public-school setting with institutional power and reinforcing Bennett’s lack of belonging. Confronted with a set that harks back to medieval days, the audience is reminded of the historic and traditional nature of the world Bennett inhabits, highlighting even more how he does not fit into it.

One of the film’s opening scenes perfectly captures the importance of the filming location; at a Remembrance Day service, the schoolboys stand in orderly formation, chorusing out a hymn with expressionless faces. While Bennett sings along, he stares longingly at another student, eventually stopping singing completely as they engage in prolonged eye contact. The romantic undertones of such an interaction hint at same-sex affection; that it is romantic is seemingly confirmed by the frequent cuts to another scene, in which a teacher discovers two other students engaged in clandestine same-sex relations.

The quadrangle in front of the Bodleian Library acts as a backdrop to all of this, only amplifying the sense of transgression in the face of custom and convention. An expression of same-sex attraction, already subversive, becomes even more significant when juxtaposed with a background that carries with it all these implications of history and tradition and conservatism.

The prestige of Oxford as a backdrop also emphasises the power of the public-school institution, adding to the picture of an illustrious educational establishment possessing significant authority. As the narrative unfolds, it becomes clear that Bennett’s sexuality cannot be reconciled with the world he lives in unless it is concealed or repressed. The powerful institution suppresses his attempts to carve out a space for himself as a gay man, and he is left with no choice but to look for belonging elsewhere, which he does by defecting to the Soviet Union.

The relationship between film and filming location does not only work one way. If the prevalence of Hogwarts comparisons and wand-brandishing tourists tells us anything, it is that popular perceptions of both the city and the university have been powerfully influenced by the Harry Potter franchise.

While Oxford as a filming location generally improves a movie – it helps to build atmosphere, establish an immersive setting, and enrich the narrative – the impact that movies have on attitudes towards Oxford can be less positive. In one sense, the association with a fantasy setting evokes a sense of magic, which makes Oxford feel even more charming. Nonetheless, constant references to a children’s franchise can feel a little juvenile and out of touch.

After all, these associations contribute to a view of Oxford that is more fantasy than reality, and it is important not to put Oxford on a pedestal, and lose sight of the fact that it is a university like any other. Ideally, we should strike a balance; an awareness of the reality of life at Oxford can co-exist with an appreciation of its grand architecture and historical atmosphere.

Still, in spite of my reservations about grown adults’ fanaticism for a story meant for children, I’m inclined to think that these associations are largely harmless. If students choose to apply to a university because it reminds them of a nostalgic film favourite, or if tourists want to pose in front of the Radcliffe Camera dressed in full wizarding gear, it simply reflects how the influence of film means Oxford has become something different for some.