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MORE TREASURES FROM AMERICAN FILM
ARCHIVES
1894-1931

Review by Ed Nguyen
Stars:
Dorothy Gish, Rin-Tin-Tin, Eddie Cantor, Calvin Coolidge, and much more!
Directors: Edwin S. Porter, D.W. Griffith, Ernst Lubitsch, Thomas Ince, Gregory
La Cava, Alice Guy Blaché, W.K.L. Dickson, and much more!
Audio: English monaural/stereo
Intertitles: English
Video: Color and black & white, full-frame with variable aspect ratios
Studio: Image Entertainment
Features: Thirty-plus commentary tracks, film notes and stills, 200-page book
Length: 573 minutes
Release Date: September 7, 2004
"Good
morning, Mr. Edison, glad to see you back.
I hope you are satisfied with the Kineto-Phonograph."
- W.K.L. Dickson, early sound film (lost), 1889
Films
****
Believe
it or not, the motion picture has only been in existence for barely longer than
a century. Modern films, with their
ultra-sensitive film stocks and computer-enhanced visuals, bear little
resemblance to movies from as recently as two decades ago.
Stereo sound technology (never mind surround sound) did not even exist in
any meaningful capacity just three decades ago.
Even the widescreen format has been around for only a half-century.
As film-goers today, we are often spoiled by the astounding technological
leaps and bounds seen in modern cinema. But
incredibly, the greater majority of films made since the late nineteenth century
have possessed none of these qualities and, primitive though they may appear now
to contemporary audiences, are more representative of the true history of the
cinema.
For
years, film archives across the United States have endeavored to preserve the
country's cinematic history. In
2000, several American film archives combined their collective resources to
present rare but significant films in the DVD collection Treasures from American Film Archives. Produced by the National Film Preservation Foundation, this
collection re-introduced viewers to many forgotten but historically important
works of cinematic heritage. More
Treasures from American Film Archives 1894-1931, the follow-up to that
impressive set, has now arrived, assembling a new collection of films reaching
even further back into time. This
new collection is comprised of a dazzling array of film gems, some obscure and
some not, from the early, formulative years of cinema.
Among the film archives which contributed to this collection are the
Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, George Eastman House, The Library
of Congress, The Museum of Modern Art, and the UCLA Film and Television Archive.
Overall, this new set, curated by Scott Simmon, contains more than nine
hours' worth of film.
More
so than the previous set, this new collection exclusively covers that period in
filmmaking commonly known as the silent era.
The term is actually a misnomer, as many of these films were not shown
silently but with musical accompaniment - either a piano, small pit band, or
even a full orchestra, depending on the importance of the film.
Several early films even boasted actual recorded sounds and were not
silent at all (examples of these rare films can be found in this collection).
Included
in this collection of fifty films (and six trailers) are a potpourri of genres -
features, serials, documentaries, advertisements, public service announcements,
sing-alongs, newsreels, cartoons, and experiments involving color, sound, or
obscure photographic techniques. The films range from brief clips to one-reelers to
full-length features, documenting the transition of the motion picture from
peepshow curiosities to vaudeville house attractions and photoplays and finally
into a thriving entertainment industry.
Unfortunately,
motion pictures, or "movies" for short, of the silent era are rarely
seen today. Part of the problem is
that the vast majority, upwards of ninety percent, of films made during this
period are lost forever, and most of the remaining ones are not in pristine
condition. Nevertheless, among the
surviving films are some of the most influential artistic achievements in
cinema, though doubtless there are still many gems yet to re-discover.
Within
their historical context, these films represent a time capsule of the culture
and social standards of their times. Watching
these images of yesteryear creates a sense of wonder and awe, as though we the
audience were peering through a window into a time long gone.
Herein, we can recognize the genesis of rudimentary storytelling and
photographic techniques which we take so for granted in today's movies.
The
contents of More Treasures from American
Film Archives 1894-1931 are spread over three DVDs (or
"programs"). Read on
below for descriptions of the many forgotten treasures and gems rescued from
obscurity in our film archives!
1)
Dickson Experimental Sound Film (15 sec, 1895)
Appropriately,
our journey back into time begins with none other than Thomas Edison, Inventor
Extraordinaire, and his remarkable assistant, Walter K.L. Dickson.
Together in 1888, they developed the world's first motion picture camera, the Kinetograph (or Kinetoscope).
Dickson combined this machine with Edison's earlier phonograph invention
to create the Kinetophone. Yes,
that's right - the "sound picture" existed from the very start of film
back in the late nineteenth century! The
Edison labs had a head-start on Al Jolson by some thirty years.
Today's
movies use a sound-on-film approach, but the Kinetophone employed a phonograph
synchronized via a mechanical belt to the on-screen action.
The Kinetophone was introduced in various peep-show parlors and later
into vaudeville theaters with some limited success.
Experimentation with the phonograph sound format continued until 1914,
when a fire in the Edison labs ultimately halted any further advancements with
the system.
Program
One of More
Treasures from American Film Archives 1894-1931 opens with a series of extremely early Dickson films, including an
extremely rare sound experiment. The
first film, obviously a test not designed for public screening, shows Dickson
himself playing his violin into the Kinetophone's gigantic funnel while, nearby,
a pair of male co-workers dance. Dickson's
tune is a barcarole from Les Cloches de
Corneville, a 1877 French opera, though the aural fidelity is somewhat poor.
Coupled with the scratchy, cat shriek-like wail of the violin (the sound
is quite primitive), this makes for a truly surreal short film, the earliest
surviving synchronized sound film.
Coincidentally,
the original wax sound recording for this film was of greater duration than the
image portion itself. Sound was recorded for two minutes prior to actual filming,
so early conversation and even direction can be heard before the filmed images
even appear. As presented on this
disc, however, only the synchronized sound portion is heard.
2)
Annie Oakley (20 sec, 1894)
This
next short film demonstrates the Kinetoscope's potential as an archival
recording device. The film
showcases the real Annie Oakley, "Little Miss Sure Shot" of Buffalo
Bill's Wild West fame, displaying her famed shooting skills in a confined
studio.
3)
Buffalo Dance (15 sec, 1894)
A
group of Native Americans, featuring Oglala and Brulé Sioux, perform a ritual
dance for the Kinetoscope. Again,
these dancers were regular performers for the Buffalo Bill's Wild West show and may even have participated in the famed
"Battle of Little Bighorn" re-enactment in the show.
4)
Bucking Broncho (20 sec, 1894)
Lastly,
this early outdoor film features cowboy Lee Martin hanging onto his bucking
broncho, Sunfish. Martin was also
another regular performer for Buffalo Bill.
5)
The
Suburbanite (9 min., 1904)
The
Mutoscope was a popular peephole motion picture machine of the late 1890s.
It created an illusion of movement through a series of pictures flipping
on a horizontal axis whenever a hand crank was operated.
The Mutoscope was intended to be a rival to the Edison Kinetoscope, and
in comparison, even produced a sharper image (it used 70mm film stock).
Furthermore, the Mutoscope, being hand-cranked, did not require battery
power, unlike the Kinetoscope. However,
the Kinetoscope's projection system was capable of greater film lengths and
eventually surpassed the Mutoscope as the public's favored venue for film
exhibition. American Mutoscope,
which produced the Mutoscope, ultimately created its own projection system, the
Biograph.
The
Suburbanite
is an example of one such early Biograph film.
While early films tended to be documentaries, often comprised of a static
single shot, films by 1904 were beginning to incorporate new editing approaches
to narrate a story. Consequently,
films were increasing in length. While
film editing was still rudimentary (one reason why many early silent films are
so difficult to follow today), The
Suburbanite shows the definite progress achieved in less than a decade of
film history.
The
Suburbanite
chronicles the misadventures of a middle-class family relocating to a New Jersey
suburb and, as a film, represents a leap forward in terms of narrative
techniques. Intertitles, still a
fresh innovation from 1903's Uncle Tom's
Cabin, help to provide coherence to the story.
Multiple shots allow for multiple anecdotes, giving the story a broader
scope. We see the family arriving
proudly at its new home, having comic disagreements with the movers (who
eventually throw all the furniture out of their truck), "welcoming" a
visit from the mother-in-law, and engaging in slapstick mayhem with a
disgruntled cook (food and dishes are thrown about). The film closes when the father of the family, exasperated by
life in the suburbs, posts a "To Let" sign before his home (the film
is missing its final shot, in which the father then rushes everyone out the
door).
6)
The
Country Doctor (14 min., 1909)
One
of Biograph's best-kept early secrets was director D.W. Griffith.
Today, he is acknowledged as a master of the silent era with such
remarkable films as The Birth of a Nation
and Intolerance.
However, early in his career, Griffith worked anonymously for the
Biograph company and was often unaccredited.
He directed hundreds of short films a year and was instrumental in almost
single-handedly propelling Biograph to the forefront of the film industry, such
as it existed back then. With
cameraman Billy Bitzer, Griffith crafted many one-reel "photoplays"
which took advantage of new innovations involving editing, camera movements and
positioning, and close-ups to communicate emotionally-stirring stories.
Griffith may not have invented these innovations, but his skilled
direction and usage of these techniques helped to advance the art of filmmaking
as never before.
Today,
Griffith's films are among the most-preserved of early films, with 440 of his
films produced for Biograph between 1908 and 1913 surviving today.
One example, Griffith's 1909 Biograph film The
Country Doctor, displays the potential of the photoplay as a narrative
medium. In this lovingly-photographed and well-acted morality tale of
a physician torn between his family and his profession, the editing is advanced
enough that even modern audiences can easily appreciate and follow the
storyline.
Griffith
uses alternating sequences and progressively rapid parallel editing techniques
to heighten the tension of the story. Subtle
pan shots frame the storyline, introducing a pastoral feel to the film, then
drawing us away at the film's conclusion from the grieving family.
The passive neutrality of early silent films is replaced in this film by
an emotional resonance that would become a hallmark of Griffith's future
masterpieces.
The
film starts as the physician, his wife, and young daughter are first seen in a
calm pastoral setting, enjoying a pleasant family outing.
Later, the daughter is taken ill, and the physician applies his skills
towards improving her health. However,
the child of a neighbor is also taken ill, and the physician is called away from
his daughter's side to care for the other patient.
As his daughter's condition worsens, the physician is caught between
treating his patient or returning to save his own daughter.
The story has a bittersweet ending - the over-confident physician, having
restored his patient's health, returns home too late to a tearful wife, mourning
over the death of their daughter.
BONUS
TRIVIA: A very young Mary Pickford,
one of the cinema's greatest film stars, has an early role as the elder daughter
in the neighbor's household.
7)
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (13 min., 1910)
This
one is a real treat, the first surviving film version of the classic L. Frank
Baum story! For many years, The
Wonderful Wizard of Oz was considered a lost film until a nitrate print was
re-discovered in 1983. Its
presentation on this disc can thus be considered a small miracle, an
all-too-rare occurrence in the never-ending effort to find and restore these
early films.
The
history behind this film is a fascinating one.
Baum himself commissioned the film from Selig Polyscope to accompany his
lecture show. In return, the
company received film rights to Baum's Oz tales.
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was
to be the first of at least three Selig films about Oz.
One sequel, Dorothy and the
Scarecrow of Oz, was known to have been made, but this film and any further
unknown sequels are now lost.
For
inspiration, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
draws upon the then-popular stage adaptation of the Baum tale.
Like the later famous MGM version, this film is also vaudevillian in
style although the storyline is different.
As with many early films, the editing is a little choppy and only
highlights key scenes, thus requiring some audience familiarity with the text to
follow the plot. This version is
apparently a "musical" comedy, too, featuring a number of quick jigs
and dances (involving farm animals and female soldiers of Oz, among others), but
there is obviously no audible singing. The
character designs, like those in Return to
Oz (1985), also accurately reflect the appearances of the characters in the
original illustrations that accompanied the books.
The
story begins in Kansas, introducing Dorothy, her family, and some farm animals.
Dorothy meets the Scarecrow and unties him from his post just before a
cyclone hits, sending both of them and several farm animals (a cow, and mule,
and Toto, all clinging for dear life to a haystack) off to the Land of Oz.
This
Oz lacks munchkins or a Yellow-Brick Road.
A wicked witch (named Mombo here) is terrorizing the land, and the Wizard
of Oz, ruler of Emerald City, decrees that he will abdicate his crown to
whomever can free Oz from the witch's clutches.
Meanwhile, Glinda the Good transforms Toto into a big dog to protect
Dorothy from an attack by the Cowardly Lion, who quickly repents and journeys
the traveling party. They soon
encounter the Tin Woodsman who, after an oil job, recovers his movements, pulls
out a flute, and play a jig to which everyone dances.
Dorothy then spots a sign announcing the Wizard's proclamation, and it's
off to Emerald City for everyone.
Along
the way, the party is ambushed near a forest cottage by Mombo and her hench-things
(bats, giant spiders, and flying ghoulies).
Everyone is captured and imprisoned.
Dorothy is ordered to clean Mombo's floors with a bucket of water, which
she instead deposits over Mombo's head with predictable results.
The
witch vanquished, Dorothy frees her friends and it's off again for Emerald City.
The Wizard crowns Scarecrow as the new king, and there is another jig as
the Wizard prepares to leave Oz for Omaha.
The film ends somewhat abruptly with Dorothy still happily in Oz. Further sequels, or even a serial, would surely have
continued the story and may have included the sleepy poppy field scene (seen in
MGM's version) or Dorothy's return to Kansas.
As it stands now, we will never know for certain, although the
re-discovery of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
certainly makes it one of the gems in this DVD set.
8)
Admiral Cigarette (30 sec, 1897)
Next,
we move on to a series of four advertisements.
Yes, even before the turn of the century, manufacturing companies were
keenly aware of film's potential as a viable medium for promoting their
products. So, if all the promo ads
in movie theaters today vex many audiences, they may take some solace in the
fact that such ads have always existed.
This
ad, a 30-second spot, uses famous personalities like Uncle Sam, John Bull, and
the iconic girl-popping-out-of-a-cake to promote Admiral cigarettes.
The ad's motto is "We All Smoke."
While hardly politically-correct, this ad was certainly effective in its
day.
9)
Flash Cleaner (45 sec, 1920)
This
next ad is for a detergent, strong enough for the workplace but gentle enough
for the home environment.
10)
Buy an Electric Refrigerator (30 sec, 1926)
Next,
there is a quick blurb encouraging the purchase of electric refrigerators.
This clip is remarkably well-preserved and was produced by the Electric
League of Pittsburgh. Modern
audiences should keep in mind that during the 1920's, less than half of all
homes had refrigeration, the vast majority of which were non-electric iceboxes.
11)
The Stenographer’s Friend (8 min., 1910)
Lastly,
we come to what amounts to a short film in itself.
This advertisement tells a tale of an overwhelmed stenographer.
With two bosses continually piling papers before her, she is unable to
keep pace with the dictations. Soon,
she is clutching her head and even weeping.
Never
fear, the Edison salesman is here! The salesman comes through the office door and proceeds to
promote and demonstrate the Edison Phonograph as a time-saving device that can
increase office efficacy and reduce the work load. Using a re-usable wax sound cylinder to record dictations,
the Phonograph can help the stenographer to complete all her work and leave on
time!
In
reality, the business Phonograph, as with all new innovations, was initially
resisted for fear that it would replace stenographers at the workplace.
By 1910 though, it was an accepted and successful product, much like the
hand-held dictation tape machines commonly used today in law and medical
offices.
12)
The Invaders (41 min., 1912)
John
Wayne notwithstanding, the Golden Age of the Western occurred during the silent
era, when literally thousands of Westerns were produced.
The western supplied ample potential for action and chases, with built-in
heroes and villains, so movie halls of this time were routinely floated with
westerns. The
Invaders, a western made by early film pioneer Thomas Ince, was an
above-average production, not only for its unusually long length (nearly all
westerns at the time were one-reelers) but also for its sympathetic portrayal of
both sides of the conflict. Authentic
Native Americans were even cast in the film, too, another atypical feature.
The
Invaders
opens with a treaty between the Sioux and the U.S. government, which promises to
halt further settlement into Sioux territory.
However, only one year later, that promise is broken when railroad
surveyors are allowed to wander onto Sioux territory to scout the land.
They are quickly spotted, and when the Sioux peacefully ride into town to
voice their protest to the local U.S. cavalry commander, their pleas are
essentially brushed aside. Inevitably,
this indifference leads to a full-scale Sioux and Cheyenne retaliation in which
the surveyors are overwhelmed, local telegraph lines are cut, and the local
cavalry outpost is attacked. The
Indian attack is ultimately repulsed when help arrives from a nearby military
fort.
The
film contains some genre conventions which will be recognizable to modern
audiences. There is the typically
pretty commander's daughter, whose father disapproves of her sweetheart until
the young lad saves the day by gallantly riding through the Indian assault to
recruit help. There is also an
analogous romance among the Sioux, in which the chief's own daughter becomes
attracted to one of the young surveyors. When
a spurned Sioux suitor spots the Indian princess together with the surveyor, his
alarmed report to the chief starts the fateful chain of events which soon
spirals out of control. As in the
familiar Pocahontas tale, the Indian princess ultimately sacrifices her own life
to warn the White Men of the impending attack.
Sadly, The Invaders ends on a
down note as the survivors mourn over the dead body of the chieftain's daughter.
Although
audiences might initially assume the "invaders" of the film's title to
be a reference to the Indians themselves, the film makes a sly statement about
the true nature of these "invaders." The blind avarice of the typical Big Company, as personified
in the railroad surveyors, can be seen as "invading" the native land.
In such a light, who is truly the villain of the story?
BONUS
TRIVIA: Ince reputedly died under
mysterious conditions while abroad William Randolph Heart's yacht.
Some rumors persisted that Ince had been shot by a jealous Hearst.
13)
The Wild Engine, Episode #26 from the serial The
Hazards of Helen (14 min., 1915)
Serials
were all the rage during the early years of cinema.
Offering sensational thrills and cliff-hanger suspense, they enticed
audiences back to the theaters again and again to follow an on-going story line
(in much the same addictive fashion as modern soap operas or reality shows).
The
most popular serial of the day was The Perils of Pauline, whose iconic image of a damsel-in-distress,
tied to the tracks in the path of an oncoming train, is still recognized today.
However, there were certainly many other serials, and The
Hazards of Helen was another very popular serial.
It featured a strong female lead in Helen Holmes.
Helen was no damsel-in-distress; instead, she was frequently the action
heroine, regularly performing such stunts as leaping upon moving vehicles or
falling from heights.
This
DVD includes one episode, The Wild Engine,
from the serial. A variant on the
popular railroad cliffhangers of the day, this episode finds Helen as a
newly-hired railroad worker. Being
a woman, she must work harder than the men to prove her worth.
Helen's chance arrives one day when a freak accident sends three
locomotives upon a collision course. With
time running out and her colleagues unable to help, it is up to Helen to stop
all three trains and to save the day. Naturally,
this involves a lot of rushing about on a motorbike with a stunt or two, such as
speeding off a bridge into the flowing waters below.
Despite
the age of this episode, it remains as tense and exciting today as it must have
seemed ninety years ago. Featuring
suspenseful cross-editing and a charismatic heroine, The
Wild Engine was typical of the Hazards
of Helen serial, which ran for a remarkable 119 episodes and established
Helen Holmes as one of the top serial heroines.
14)
Gretchen the Greenhorn (58 min., 1916)
Dorothy
Gish was one of the first true film celebrities, a predecessor to Mary
Pickford's "America's Sweetheart."
The younger sister to Lillian Gish (probably the silent era's finest
dramatic actress), Dorothy Gish was a skilled comedian and a silent film star in
her own right. Few of her films
survive today, but in actuality Dorothy appeared in more silent films than did
her sister Lillian.
Gretchen
the Greenhorn
was one of seven five-reelers in which Dorothy Gish appeared in 1916.
A warm and occasionally comedic tale of urban immigrant life, it was not
an "event" film but, rather, was representative of the typical
entertainment found in the movie halls in the 1910's.
Today, it would be comparable to any number of feel-good but
inconsequential comedies in neighborhood theaters.
Gretchen
the Greenhorn
is the tale of Gretchen (Dorothy Gish), who has just immigrated to America, the
Land of Opportunity, to re-join her father, a humble engraver.
The family is re-united at the harbor and, from there, return to the
tenement housing in which Gretchen's father lives.
Gretchen is introduced to the other immigrant neighbors, including Pietro,
a young Italian man who will become the love interest for the film.
The first half of the film provides an intimate look at immigrant culture
and tenement life style in the New World, while the second half embarks upon the
"meat" of the story.
Local
counterfeiters deceive the honest father into creating engravings for U.S.
currency. When he discovers the
true nefarious nature of their plans, the counterfeiters kidnapped him abroad
their mercantile ship to keep him quiet. Gretchen
tries to come to her father's rescue but is captured herself.
Pietro arrives with the dock police to save the day, and the film closes
with a happy wedding scene for Gretchen and Pietro.
Gretchen
the Greenhorn
displays a good example of tinting, an early "colorization" technique.
The film demonstrates effectively how tinting was used as a subtle means
of conveying emotions or the passage of time.
This film was long considered lost until a nitrate print was miraculously
donated for preservation in 1991 by Galen Biery, a private collector who had
kept the film safe for years in his barn!
BONUS
TRIVIA: Elmo Lincoln, who plays a
ship's captain, would later become the screen's first Tarzan!
15)
The Breath of a Nation (6 min., 1919)
Movie
cartoons began appearing in the 1910's. Usually,
these were fairly low-budget affairs with crude animation.
They frequently used familiar comic strip characters to off-set their
low-production values and were entertaining enough for their day. Many of these early cartoons no longer exist, so The
Breath of a Nation is a rare find indeed.
Produced
by newspaper mogul William Randolph Hearst's International Film Services
Company, the cartoon itself is fairly well-preserved and still remains amusing.
As was common with many of these early cartoons, it was printed in sepia
tones to reduce the eyestrain from the glare of the transparent cel drawings
when projected. Directed by a young
Gregory La Cava (who later did such notable 1930's films as My
Man Godfrey and Stage Door), the cartoon offers an amusing social commentary on the
"horrors" of drink in the final days before the Prohibition.
It uses the popular Judge Rummy comic strip character to hook audience
members. An unreformed drunk, Judge
Rummy wanders into a bar, Silk Hat Harry's Soda Fountain, and eventually causes
a bit of a ruckus.
16)
De-Light: Making an Electric Light Bulb (12 min., 1920)
Believe
it or not, industrial and educational films comprise the largest number of films
created over the history of cinema, accounting for over a half-million films.
This early film, by the Ford Motor Company, was part of the company's
weekly educational series. Designed
to be shown in schools, churches, and other public venues, films such as this
were not only educational but also made for good promotion, presenting a
pleasant public image for the producing companies.
De-Light
describes the process by which light bulbs are made.
Still quite fascinating to watch today, surviving films such as this are
invaluable in illustrating how labor and industry once functioned in this
nation's past. De-Light employs a great number of close-ups to show how the
machines and craftsmen assembled the glass bulbs, tungsten filaments, and brass
bases into the completed light bulb. This
was all quite hi-tech for the time. The incredible degree of detail in this particular film
suggests that De-Light may also have
been used to train factory workers, too.
17)
Skyscraper Symphony (9 min., 1929)
This
avant-garde documentary by Robert Florey is a montage of multiple shots of
Manhattan skyscrapers. Some are
static shots, but many are panning shots which communicate the size and majesty
of these large man-made structures. The image compositions emphasize strong vertical and diagonal
lines. A handheld 35mm DeVry camera
was used for many of these shots, and the resulting images would look perfectly
at home in the opening scenes of Fritz Lang's Metropolis.
Peter
Child composed the new music for this film.
It is a poignant score that is occasionally evocative of a Philip Glass
score (such as that for Koyaanisqatsi).
BONUS
TRIVIA: Skyscraper
Symphony was considered a lost film before a single print was re-discovered
in a Moscow archive in the 1990's.
18)
Greeting by George Bernard Shaw (5 min., 1928)
Program
One concludes with a sound clip from novelist George Bernard Shaw, shot at his
English country retreat. This film was a first-generation Fox Movietone, later the definitive newsreel of the Great Depression
era, and was obviously meant to be shown as an introduction before a main
feature.
As
a sound film, the audio quality is slightly scratchy but otherwise decent.
One can hear the horn of a passing car, the shuffling of gravel under
Shaw's feet, the chirping of birds, and of course, Shaw's own cultivated
speaking voice. The technology used
a new sound-on-film process developed by Theodore Case and sold to Fox, which by
December 1927 was employing the process to create sound newsreels under the new Movietone
News moniker.
In
this newsreel, Shaw doesn't say much of importance, although the mere sound of
his voice at the time was novelty enough. Among
his comments, he makes fun of Mussolini and jokes about an autograph-seeking
girl. Coincidentally, Shaw never actually introduces himself in the
entire film (although he does allude to his profession as a novelist).
19)
What Happened on Twenty-Third Street, New York City (75 sec,
1901)
Program
Two (on disc two) opens with a series of short films documenting the
"Streets of New York." Since the center of the film industry at this time still
resided along the east coast, hundreds of short films were created to document
daily splices of life in the major eastern cities, such as New York City.
Today, many of these films survive thanks to paper prints preserved at
the Library of Congress.
This
first short film offers a surreal sense of time travel, as we can see in the
formal attire of the pedestrians and the streets lined with horse-drawn
carriages. This film was shot at a
well-known "windy corner," so named by eagle-eyed gentlemen for the
site's propensity to cause women's skirts to toss up suddenly (either due to the
gusty breezes or the frequent ventilation grates).
That is precisely "what happens" in this Edison film.
20)
At the Foot of the Flatiron (1 min., 1903)
Shown
here is an American Mutoscope and Biograph clip of another very windy day at the
foot of the Fuller Building. Nicknamed the "Flatiron," this twenty-one story
building was the tallest in Manhattan at the time. Again, this film was also shot on twenty-third street, near
Fifth Avenue.
21)
New York City “Ghetto” Fish Market (2 min., 1903)
This
Edison production shows is a scene from the Lower East Side district of New York
City. This single-shot film
captures the activity at an open-air fish market as the locals wander about
purchasing fish from the street vendors.
22)
From Leadville to Aspen, a Hold-Up in the Rockies (8 min., 1906)
This
Biograph film is an early example of the "phantom ride," a genre whose
descendant, the simulation ride, can now be found in many amusement parks
nationwide. In the film's original
presentation, "passengers" would enter a theater designed to resemble
a train passenger car, complete with a conductor. The film itself would be shown at the front (usually through
rear-projection). The
"passenger car" would be gently rocked, with the recorded sound of a
moving locomotive being piped into the theater.
Thus, there would be an illusion of an actual joyride on real train.
From
Leadville to Aspen,
directed by Edwin S. Porter, was part of the popular Hale's
Tours simulation series. This
particular episode is comprised of countryside travelogue scenery as might be
viewed from the front of a moving train. The
shots are lengthy, using extremely long takes, such that the film only has five
total shots. The travelogue portion
begins the film, and a robbery portion concludes the film, alluding to Porter's
own famous The Great Train Robbery,
which preceded this film by three years.
This
Hale's Tours film doesn't quite offer
the same thrills as riding space shuttle or roller-coaster simulations, but it
is clearly a precursor to those attraction rides.
23)
The "Teddy" Bears (13 min., 1907)
Film
audiences back in the day were arguably more sophisticated than modern audiences
and were frequently expected to bring an awareness of current social, cultural,
and political events to the viewing of films.
To some degree, this is one reason why silent films are occasionally
difficult to follow now - they are being viewed out of their original
sociopolitical context by audiences without the prerequisite foreknowledge.
For
this extremely old one-reeler, also directed by Edwin S. Porter, the classic
fairy tale "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" is combined with a popular
anecdote about Theodore Roosevelt's 1902 bear encounter.
For anyone not old enough to remember (and that would be about, oh, 100%
of viewers today), President Theodore Roosevelt was presumably on a hunting trip
one day when, coming across a bear cub, he refused to shoot the poor thing.
Word of his charitable mercy spread quickly, and soon, a new toy emerged
that capitalized upon this tale - a cuddly stuffed bear christened the
"teddy bear."
The
"Teddy" Bears
follows the classic fairy tale storyline as Goldilocks enters a cabin in the
woods belonging to a family of three playful bears.
When she is discovered, the three bears run her out of the cabin and
pursue her through the woods, the film then evolving into a chase (the
"chase" genre was very popular at this time).
They eventually come across a hunter (unidentified but clearly meant to
represent Theodore Roosevelt) who quickly shoots and kills the Papa and Mama
Bear. Baby Bear is chained up and
taken prisoner. Goldilocks leads
the hunter back to the cabin, which they enter and then re-emerge with armfuls
of stuffed teddy bears.
Overall,
the plot is slight, but the film is interesting more for its social context than
its actual content. There is also
an unusual (and surreally creepy) special effects sequence in which the teddy
bears all dance. This film is
somewhat ironic in nature and is not really a children's film (unjust death or
captivity awaits the bears, after all). Alternatively,
it has been suggested that the film is a political satire that pokes fun at
early U.S. relations with Russia, the "Bear."
24)
Children
Who Labor (13 min., 1912)
Along
that train of thought, the political film was actually more common in the 1910's
than today. Children Who Labor is a good example of a short propaganda film
designed as a cautionary tale pleading for better working conditions and child
labor reforms (the film also alludes to the sexual harassment present at many
factories).
Made
by the Edison Manufacturing Company in association with the National Child Labor
Committee, this morality play opens with a picture of Uncle Sam, highlighted by
the words "GREED," as he watches a procession of child laborers
marching into a factory. It is a
not-so-subtle criticism of the U.S. government's inadequate child labor laws at
the time (by one census estimate at the time, around 18% of the work force was
formed by children ages 10-14).
The
story proper begins when a young girl hops off a train one day unbeknownst to
her mother. When the train starts
to move again, the young girl is inadvertently left behind.
A friendly family of poor laborers from the local factory find her and
kindly take her in. They provide
food, clothing, and shelter for the girl, who goes to work with the children in
the factory.
In
an ironic twist of fate, the girl's rich father, Mr. Hanscomb, buys the factory
but fails to spot her during an inspection tour. When the girl is later taken ill and carried to the
immigrants' home, she is briefly seen by her mother, who also doesn't recognize
her daughter. Only when a doctor is
summoned to the immigrants' home at the end of the film is the girl's true
identity discovered. The rich
Hanscombs initially threaten to have the kindly laborers arrested for kidnapping
until their daughter begs for sympathy. The
Hanscombs see the error of their ways, and in the end, conditions are improved
in the Hanscomb factory.
25)
Concerning $1000 (85 sec, 1916)
Color
in films existed long before the arrival of such 1930's Technicolor
extravaganzas as Robin Hood or Gone
with the Wind. As early as the
mid-1910's, experiments were already on-going to develop practical ways of
producing color images on film.
Achieving
one color was simple, and there were several common ways to do so.
Individual frames could be hand-painted, although this was
labor-intensive. Tinting, in which
the entire film was colored, could be done by dipping the film into dye or later
by using specially-prepared one-color film for a desired shot.
Toning involved a process by
which silver in the film's emulsion was chemically altered so that black
portions of the film became brownish or colored during development (while the
white portions remained white). Sometimes,
a film would use both toning and tinting.
Achieving
two colors was much trickier. Early processes were additive,
meaning the black & white film image was sent through filters which
"added" color to the original image.
Later subtractive processes
offered better color fidelity, though. In
these processes, a beam of white light was projected through a prism that split
the image through filters. In
either process, the resultant preliminary negatives were usually combined
together such that the final print was a two-color, one-strip film.
The
next three films, including this one, are examples of early color films using
subtractive processes. Concerning $1000
was meant as an advertising short for a new Kodak camera.
This ad, shown in a short clip here, was remarkable as the first film to
utilize the 2-lens Kodachrome process. The
action was first photographed through two lens which sent the images through a
red filter and a green filter. Both
negative frames were then combined onto a single two-sided emulsion print,
resulting in a very early, if undoubtedly primitive, example of a color film.
In Concerning $1000, the actors have peach-colored flesh tones, flowers
are red, dresses are green or pink, and the furniture is brown.
The film clip starts in an office and ends with a stroll through a flower
garden.
26)
Exhibition
Reel of Two-Color Film (4 min., 1929)
This
technology demonstration of the Brewster two-color process offers clips from a
cartoon, a car commercial, a busy day in New York City, and even a parade.
The Brewster subtractive process here demonstrates its greater color
fidelity over earlier processes but does not quite achieve the crisp hues of the
later, successful three-strip Technicolor process (first introduced in 1932 with
the famous Disney cartoon Flowers and
Trees). Nevertheless, this was
a state-of-the-art demonstration for its time and an extremely rare opportunity
to see color documentary footage of early Americana.
27)
The
Flute of Krishna (7 min., 1926)
The
last of this trilogy of color films is the best - the earliest known example of
a dance film choreographed by Martha Graham (the famed dancer herself does not
appear although her students do). The
Flute of Krishna presents an encounter between the mythical Indian god
Krishna and three alluring maidens. The
blue-skinned god is seen cavorting with the Indian maidens in a sensual dance
heavily influenced by orientalism. Then,
Krishna's most devoted lover, Radha, arrives, and the second half of the film is
devoted to her seduction of Krishna.
The
Flute of Krishna
makes good use of the Kodak color process, with a mostly muted blue-green color
palette. While the colors can
hardly be proclaimed as natural in appearance, they are still remarkable to see
in such an early film. The original
film score has been lost, but a new traditional Indian music score has been
commissioned and works extremely well with the choreography, making this short
film one of the brightest gems in this DVD collection.
28)
Lotus
Blossom (12 min., 1921)
Lotus
Blossom
is technically a lost film. That we
are able to view any of it at all now should be considered a small blessing in
itself, although the film is still quite incomplete.
The original film consisted of seven reels, of which only the fifth reel,
presented here, remains. This film
is also noteworthy for being one of the few remaining examples of a
co-production between Chinese and American companies.
The
story of Lotus Blossom, drawn from
Chinese legends, concerns the creation of a sacred bell.
The previous bell has been broken, and the Ming Dynasty Emperor has
commissioned a new bell. Meanwhile, Mongolian Tartars have begun to besiege the
kingdom. The film's fifth reel
picks up the story as a young man (the lover of the film's central heroine, Moy
Tai) successfully assassinates a Tartar chieftain.
Moy Tai herself goes in search of an imprisoned inventor who knows the
secret of crafting the sacred bell. The
reel ends soon after she meets with the inventor.
Presumably,
the film would have continued with the revelation that only virgin flesh could
properly fix the metal during the casting process for the bell.
Moy Tai would ultimately sacrifice herself by leaping into a cauldron of
molten metal, saving the honor of the kingdom.
The new sacred bell's deep intonation would thereafter always ring with
the sound of Moy Tai's name.
As
no other reels of The Lotus Blossom
are known to exist, viewers now can only speculate on how the film might have
looked. Reviews from the era
suggest that the film, although independently produced, possessed very solid
production values and was unusual for its large Asian cast and its generally
positive attitude towards Asian culture (keep in mind that Asians in American
films of the silent era were generally depicted as opium dealers or Fu
Manchu-like criminals).
The
surviving reel of The Lotus Blossom
also boasts gloriously tinted images and intertitle cards with both English and
Chinese text.
29)
Gus
Visser and His Singing Duck (90 sec, 1925)
This
is a weird one. Visser owns a duck
that "sings" along with him. The
duck doesn't actually sing but rather quacks on cue during Visser's vaudeville
act. This very short Theodore Case
sound film is remarkable as an early demonstration of sound technology, even if
the sound quality is admittedly very high-pitched and scratchy (plus, the song
is corny).
30)
Clash
of the Wolves (74 min., 1925)
The
universal appeal of the most famous film stars during the silent era far
eclipses that of modern movie stars. It
is hard to appreciate the celebrity magnitude of such stars as Douglas Fairbanks
or Mary Pickford today. Some of the
most beloved stars were not necessarily human, either.
Language was obviously not much of a barrier in films of the silent era.
There
were many silent animal stars, none more celebrated than the original Rin-Tin-Tin.
Born around 1918 and discovered within a bombed-out shelter in the final
days of WWI, Rin-Tin-Tin was the sole surviving pup of a brood of eight. The soldier who rescued the pup named him after a popular
French good-luck doll at the time. He
quickly discovered his pet's remarkably physical agility, and movie studios
would soon recognized it, too, after Rin-Tin-Tin's record-breaking eleven-foot
jump in a 1922 dog show. Warner
Brothers signed Rin-Tin-Tin to a film contract, and for the next decade, this
German shepherd would rule the cinema as the most beloved animal star of the
day. At one point, he even had his
own radio show!
Clash
of the Wolves
is a real treat from Warner Brothers and finds the canine star near the height
of his popularity. Rin-Tin-Tin is
cast as Lobo, the renegade half-breed leader of a pack of wild wolves in the
Wild West. A forest fire forces the
pack from its wooded shelter, and they settle in the open prairie lands and
deserts of the Old Wild West. Unfortunately,
cowboys and fortune-seekers are already in the region, and Lobo is soon caught
in a desperate struggle between providing for his pack and fending off the
cowboys eager to claim his pelt for a rich bounty.
When Lobo is eventually injured falling upon a cactus, a friendly cowboy
takes him in and nurtures him back to health.
Lobo thus becomes his faithful companion and later returns the favor by
saving the cowboy and his sweetheart from the greedy clutches of a local
villain, who is out to steal the cowboy's territorial claim on borax.
Clash
of the Wolves
is an action film through and through. It
is heavy on the chase sequences and also features many spectacular leaps,
fights, and demonstrations of Rin-Tin-Tin's physical agility.
Some of the comic scenes, mostly involving the human performers, seem
trite and sweetly inconsequential today, but when Rin-Tin-Tin is on the screen, Clash
of the Wolves truly soars.
There
have been very few Rin-Tin-Tin films, if any at all, available for home
screening. Clash of the Wolves may well be the first.
If so, let's hope that more vintage films with this classic animal star
find their way to home video!
BONUS
TRIVIA: According to legend, the retired Rin-Tin-Tin, in his final moments of
life, was comforted in the arms of glamour star Jean Harlow.
Not a bad way to go!
31)
International Newsreel (13 min., 1926)
No
silent era anthology would be complete without a few Hearst products.
William Randolph Hearst was the omnipresent media mogul of his day and
certainly one of the most influential men in America.
In addition to his newspapers, Hearst's media conglomerate produced
movies, cartoons, and newsreels as well. When
newsreels first began appearing in 1911 with the introduction of Pathé's
Weekly,
Hearst was soon to follow with the Hearst-Selig News Pictorial. This
Hearst newsreel would actually persist under various names, including International
Newsreel, until 1967. One
tinted episode from Hearst's International
Newsreel is provided here.
Covering
the contemporary topics of the day, this episode (volume 8, issue 97) looks at
sporting events, college bonfires, floods in England and Wales, and other human
interest stories. Of note is
coverage of the third annual Macy's parade and quick glimpses of Mussolini, not
far removed from a recent assassination attempt on his life.
Most spectacularly, this newsreel concludes with a war game exercise
involving many British tanks.
32)
Now You’re Talking (9 min., 1927)
Contrary
to any such suggestions by the title, this is actually a silent film.
Funded by American Telephone and Telegraph, Now
You're Talking is an early example of a public service announcement, in this
case providing instructions to the general public on the proper etiquette for
the use of telephones. While this
may seem an unusually obvious topic, consider that telephones were still
relatively new at the time. An
analogous situation today would be the proper etiquette on using cell phones in
public locations, such as restaurants or movie theaters.
During
the silent era, telephones were leased out by AT&T rather than privately
owned. Since the telephones were
AT&T property, it behooved the company to make sure its telephones were not
abused (thereby cutting down on maintenance).
This instructional film, an early animated effort from Max Fleischer's
Inkwell Studios, offers guidelines on how to hang up the phone properly, how to
avoid physically abusing the phone as an outlet for job stress, how to protect
the phone from the elements or wear and tear, and how to communicate with live
operators to place calls (particularly important, as many phones at the time did
not have dials).
33)
There It Is (19 min., 1928)
Not
all silent comedy was slapstick (à la Keystone) or pathos (à la Charlie
Chaplin). There It Is, a comedy by Charley Bowers, is a celebration of the
Theater of the Absurd. The Bowers
comedies were frequently unpredictable and bizarre, bending the laws of physics
and logic in their absurdist plots. There
It Is offers Bowers as a Scotland Yard sleuth, complete with a bug,
MacGregor, as a sidekick. Bowers is
called to investigate an American household that has suddenly become haunted by
a "fuzz-face phantom." The film chronicles the non-stop madcap chase
through corridors and walls of the haunted mansion as one by one characters all
seem to disappear. The film
concludes when the true identity of the phantom is revealed (in a twist
reminiscent of the ending to The Cabinet
of Dr. Caligari, an expressionist classic).
Charley
Bowers remains relatively obscure today, but his comedy was most akin to that of
the Great Stoneface, Buster Keaton. With
comedians like Chaplin, Keaton, and Lloyd moving onto feature films by the
mid-1920's, the niche of the one-reel comedy shorts was filled by comedians such
as Charley Bowers who were not afraid to experiment outlandishly.
34)
A Bronx Morning (11 min., 1931)
Program
Two concludes with an experimental film by a young Jay Leyda, later an
accomplished film historian. A
Bronx Morning showcases shots of everyday life in the Bronx taken by Leyda
in his first attempt at filmmaking. It
is also a documentation of the early effects of the Depression on urban America.
Like Skyscraper Symphony, this
film contains some dynamically-composed shots of the local architecture, but it
focuses more on the people themselves and their activities.
35)
Rip Van Winkle (4 min., 1896)
Program
Three opens with Rip Van Winkle.
This film was actually a collection of eight linked early American
Mutoscope films, directed by W.K.L. Dickson, highlighting the adventures of Rip
Van Winkle. The films starred
Joseph Jefferson, at the time the world's most successful actor, who early in
his career had even performed in the fateful theater play Our
American Cousin. His greatest
claim to fame, however, arose with an 1865 stage adaptation of Washington
Irving's famous tale "Rip Van Winkle."
For decades afterwards, Jefferson would be completely identified with the
lead character, his signature role and one which he was to perform even into the
twentieth century.
The
Mutoscope films are selections of eight short scenes from the stage play that
have been re-enacted outdoors via pantomime.
As the films open, Van Winkle is seen drinking in the mountains and
encountering a dwarf carrying a heavy load.
Van Winkle assists the dwarf, who leads Van Winkle to a group of other
demonic dwarves. They trick Van
Winkle, giving him a strange brew which causes him to collapse into a
twenty-year sleep. The films end
with Van Winkle awakening, an old and feeble man.
Rip
Van Winkle
is significant not only as a record of early film history but also as a rare
opportunity to see one of the leading stage performers of the nineteenth
century. The story itself was so
popular that at least eight further adaptations were made before 1915, making
Washington Irving's tale one of the most adapted works to film (second only to
the Bible) during the silent era.
These
Mutoscope films survive today as 35mm paper prints, the source of this transfer.
While only a combined four minutes in length, Rip
Van Winkle was an epic, relatively speaking, for its time.
36)
Mr. Edison at Work in His Chemical Laboratory (30 sec, 1897)
This
short clip employs the Edison Kinetoscope to record the famous inventor mixing
chemical reagents in his lab. For a nineteenth century film, this clip is in quite good
condition and is remarkable for presenting a very rare motion picture of Edison
himself.
In
actuality, for this film, Edison was photographed outside in a mock laboratory
using natural sunlight, as electric lighting technology had not yet advanced
enough to allow for indoor cinematography.
37)
Life of an American Fireman (6 min., 1903)
The
Life of an American Fireman
was an important film by Edwin S. Porter and is considered one of the first
films to tell a story using multiple shots, early editing, and even a close-up.
This Edison Manufacturing Company film combined indoor and outdoor
footage with some special effects (double exposure).
The
"fire" film was a genre in itself during cinema's early years.
Burning buildings, women and children in peril, heroic rescues - such
were the common building blocks for these films.
Porter's innovative contribution was an early editing style that devised
a new way to telling a familiar story.
The
film opens with an alarm at the fire station.
The firefighters assemble and gear up their horse-drawn fire trucks.
Then, the race is on to save a burning house, where a woman and child are
in peril from their second-story room. Both
are rescued and the fire is combated successfully.
Granted,
this film today is not in great condition, with very scratchy emulsion, a shaky
frame, and copious amounts of film stock degradation.
While the story is certainly nothing extraordinary, the film's early
display of sequential story-telling is quite noteworthy.
It is also an early example of a docu-drama, combining real footage with
fictional re-enactments.
The
new audio track includes "Fireman's Quick March," and an old, vintage
song, too, "The Fireman's Call" (1837).
38)
Films from the Westinghouse
Works Series (6 min., 1904)
By
1896, American Mutoscope had recognized the projector system as the future of
film exhibition and had developed its own projector, the Biograph.
The company would eventually alter its name to reflect this new
technology. In 1903, the company
used the Biograph to create some thirty films for the National Cash Register
Company.
Pre-Hollywood
movies generally existed less as story-telling devices than as documentaries or
industrial promotional films. The
Biograph industrial films caught the attention of the Westinghouse Electric and
Manufacturing Company, which subsequently contracted American Mutoscope and
Biograph to create a series of twenty-nine short industrial
"actualities" promoting its manufacturing sites.
The three short films included on this disc focus on a huge Westinghouse
site completed in 1895 in East Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, supposedly the largest
in the world at the time. Shot by
Billy Bitzer, D.W. Griffith's long-standing cameraman, these films were
exhibited at the Westinghouse pavilion in the 1904 St. Louis World's Fair and
became fairly popular internationally.
First
is Panoramic View, Aisle B, a
two-minute spectacular crane shot. Floating along far above the factory floor, the camera peers
downwards on the workers and their gigantic generators, converters, and other
machineries while gliding from one end of the factory to the other a
quarter-mile away!
The
second film, Girls Winding Armatures,
is a stationary shot of female factory workers affixing copper wires to electric
motors. This film demonstrates the
gender division within these early factories as well as an early usage of
interior lighting for cinematography (probably from new mercury vapor tubes).
The third, untitled film is also a stationary shot, this time of
thousands of cheerful workers leaving a factory at the end of the day.
The
musical accompaniment for these films is derived from period pieces - "The
Gladiator" (J.P. Sousa), "The Wanderbilder suite" (Adolf Jensen),
and "Sam Fox Moving Picture Music" (J.S. Zamecnik).
39)
Falling Leaves (12 min., 1912)
"When
the last leaf falls, she will have passed away."
Successful
and prominent women directors, like Jane Campion or Sofia Coppola, are hardly a
new phenomenon in cinema. From the
very start, there were female film directors, none more prolific or talented
than Alice Guy Blaché. Born in France in 1873, by the mid-1890's Blaché was already
directing films for the Gaumont studios. During
this time, she also created at least one hundred sound-on-cylinder "phonoscènes."
In 1910, after immigrating to the United States, Blaché started the
Solax Company, for which she would direct many of the company's 120 films until
its dissolution in 1914. Overall,
Blaché made almost one thousand films, a staggering number by any standard.
Falling
Leaves
remains one of the few surviving films by Blaché. Loosely based on
the 1907 O. Henry story "The Last Leaf," this melodrama about
redemption demonstrated Blaché's gentle and lyrical approach, which emphasized
subtle acting over histrionic gesturings and stylistic editing.
Blaché's reminder to her actors, as printed upon a sign in her office,
was simply: "Be Natural."
Falling
Leaves
opens with a scene of Dr. Earl Headley, a bacteriologist, proclaiming his
invention of a serum that could cure consumption (or tuberculosis), then the
leading cause of death in the United States.
The film then shifts to a docile scene between a young girl, Trixie, and
her loving sister. When the sister
starts to develop coughing fits, a doctor is summoned and delivers the grave
news to the family, "When the last leaf falls, she will have passed
away."
In
a touching sequence, Trixie, overhearing the news, later goes into her front
yard and begins stringing up the fallen leaves back onto their tree.
She meets a passing Dr. Headley who, learning of her sister's malady,
offers his assistance. Dr. Headley
injects his miracle medication into the ill sister, and three months later, she
is clearly better and on the path to full recovery.
On
its initial release, this film did encounter some difficulties with the
newly-formed National Board of Censorship. The Board complained about the health concerns over the
depiction of a tubercular patient cuddling with her sister. Nevertheless, Fallen
Leaves remains a fine example of Blaché's
artistic directorial style and even featured the "Shirley Temple" of
the day, Magda Foy, who was often simply known as the "Solax kid."
Musical
accompaniment for the film includes excerpts from the second movement of
Beethoven's Pathétique sonata, La
Cinquantaine by Gabriel-Marie, and Chopin's melancholy Prelude
in E minor.
40)
Teaser trailer for Hands
Up (7 min., 1918)
Not
all movie trailers are meant for public viewing.
Some, such as this Hollywood exhibitor reel for the Hands
Up serial, were meant to persuade theater owners to book their films. Hands Up was a
western serial by Cyclonic and remains a lost serial today. It starred Ruth Roland, one of the queens of the serials who appeared in hundreds
of short subjects and serials until 1923, when she retired.
Hands Up was to be a
fifteen-episode Pathé production, although due to the influenza epidemic that
arose during this time period (effectively scaring audiences away from movie
houses in droves), it is doubtful whether all the episodes were ever completed.
This
reel introduces the various western heroes (cowboys, of course) and villains
(Incas, for a change) of the film. Some
stunts from the film, such as horse chases, escapes from Incan traps, and rescue
sequences, are shown, including the prerequisite heroine-in-peril scenes.
To further entice theater owners, the reel shows some of the picturesque
nature shots used in the film, various sets (from the throne room to the
sacrificial chamber), and a wealth of promotional artwork that would come with
the film (including one-sheets, lobby photos, and title cards).
BONUS
TRIVIA: The exhibitor reel for Hands
Up was re-discovered buried under the former home of Ruth Roland, along with
some of her other films and serials.
41)
Newsreel footage from the production of Greed (4 min., 1924)
Erich
von Stroheim's masterpiece Greed is one of the legendary films of the silent era.
It is not a lost film but, surviving only in a severely butchered form
due to studio interference, it might as well be.
Nevertheless, even in its truncated form, Greed
remains a towering achievement in cinematic history and was once numbered among
the ten greatest films ever made.
Consequently,
any new footage from the film will always be cherished by film enthusiasts.
The newsreel footage, by C-V News, contained on this disc offers a
behind-the-scenes look at the making of this classic film.
It focuses mainly on the crew but also quick glimpses of Von Stroheim and
some of his actors from afar.
C-V
News documents the shooting of Greed's finale in Death Valley.
The location shoot was ninety miles from the nearest significant
settlement and could only be reached by horseback and pack animals.
The shoot occurred during the summer in August, when ground temperatures
easily reached over 120 degrees Fahrenheit.
Dehydration and sunstrokes were obviously very real concerns, but such
were the sacrifices one made for the sake of art!
The
newsreel is untinted and possibly incomplete, with signs of early decomposition.
It is highly unusual, however, for its behind-the-scene footage which,
while common today, was quite rare during the silent era.
42)
"The Movie-Lovers' Contest" (3 min., 1926)
Audience
participation in movie halls was encouraged through a number of ways, including
contests such as this one. This particular contest, organized by the Daily Mirror with
Photoplay Magazine, offered a total of $10,000 in prize money.
Unfortunately, audiences had to see all forty "photoplaylets"
in the contest to solve the series of riddles.
This particular clip, the fourth in the contest, shows a swash-buckling
sequence from a film about Henry the VIII; it asks for the film's name and
identity of the female lead.
The
answer is not obviously not provided, but for the inquisitive, the film is the
1922 Cosmopolitan picture When Knighthood
Was in Flower, a Marion Davies starring vehicle.
No need to send in any replies - the contest is long over.
43)
A Few Moments With Eddie Cantor (7 min., 1923)
Let's talk briefly about early sound films. During the 1920's, Theodore Case