Pre 1920s List Discussion/Suggestions (List Project Vol. 3)

[zedz]

Thirding the praise for these films, and the BFI editions of them. One of my favourites (I'll have to plunge back in to find out what it's called) I was fortunate enough to see in 35mm, and like the beachfront film, it has a magical cinematic dimension that goes beyond the fascinating reportage of many of the others. I think it was shot from a tram, and it captures a busy high street, moving trams, traffic and lots of reflective shop windows. The tram is turning, and all the reflections are turning with it, so it gives the city a prismatic, almost cubist dimension: the modern city as kaleidoscope.

[Tommaso]

May it be "Ride on the Tramcar through Belfast"? A very great film, too.

For those who still hesitate to get the 'Electric Edwardians' disc, have a look at youtube:

Ride on the Tramcar through Belfast
Panoramic View of the Morecambe Sea Front

And there are many more. The youtube versions linked above have the excellent Vanessa Toumlin commentary which is also on the disc. On the disc, of course, you can also play the films without it.

[essrog]

Well, Suspense was as good as advertised. I don't have anything to add about the technical prowess of the film, which is detailed in this thread and in this post by Bordwell, but I wanted to mention what I thought was a nice literary touch as well. You can't do a whole lot of backstory in a 10-minute short, but the note the servant left mentioning the "lonesome house," followed by the phone call from the husband saying he was working late, turned what could have been just plot contrivances (which they still are, I guess) and at least partially fleshed out a family that has paid a price for its financial success. It's all just a minor footnote compared to the dynamic storytelling, of course, but I appreciated the effort to make the characters something more than ciphers. I watched Griffith's The Lonely Villa soon after, and it definitely suffered by comparison. So do other films of this ilk, though, such as A Narrow Escape, etc.

[Tommaso]

The Abyss

In which Asta Nielsen has various trashy new age experiences underwater.

Actually no. This landmark half-feature from 1910 marks the advent of one of cinema’s first real stars in the modern sense, and, given the progress of film technology and grammar to that point, it’s state of the art.

The camera is generally static, and scenes rarely extend to multiple shots except when absolutely necessary, but Urban Gad’s mise en scene is quite sophisticated within those historical constraints. Although the material is familiar melodrama, and the film’s notorious set piece is a theatre performance, the film itself is mostly liberated from the stage. One of the hallmarks of Gad’s style in this film is the use of real depth in real settings, particularly with ‘deep focus’ compositions of characters emerging from and receding into the distance. For technique trainspotters, the film also features a couple of pans.

Thanks zedz, your post made me re-watch that film last night, and it was a good reminder that I have to do the same with the other DFI discs pertaining to the period in question here. I agree with what you write about "The Abyss", but would say that the film despite of the real settings and its sophistication still shows that it was made in 1910. It's not so much the static camera but the absence of any regular use of close-ups or variation in shot set-ups that might make this less engaging from a modern point of view than other Danish films made only a few years later. But it certainly is a very good film, and I liked especially the city and park scenes at the beginning, which look stunningly beautiful.

And yes, Asta Nielsen is perfect for the role, and that dance scene indeed is quite titillating even today. But the absence of over-acting and a general subtlety in portrayal seems to be characteristic for these early Danish films in general, especially if you compare them with American productions. But you say the films was a 'sensation' at the time, so I wonder whether this 'new' style of acting was created with this film? Sadly, as always with the DFI, there is no contextual information included in the disc, so I know nothing about how it was received at the time. But I could imagine that the success was more because of that dance scene.

On a juvenile note, I’ve always found the end title of the film, capping Nielsen’s groundbreakingly sympathetic portrait, jarringly hilarious. And it’s an inadvertent joke that follows through in several of her subsequent films.

I admit I had to re-watch the end title on youtube right now to get your point....

Will try to see "Cenere" soon; sounds very interesting, too.

[lubitsch]

Cenere

And speaking of great screen performances – ladies and gentlemen, Eleonora Duse. This is her only screen role and she’s phenomenal. Whether or not Cenere offers an accurate record of her stage presence is irrelevant, as her performance here is so beautifully calibrated to the demands of the form it’s quite modern. It’s almost as if Duse was terrified of overacting for the camera, so she presents a stillness and restraint that’s startlingly fresh.

One interesting aspect of the performance is that we barely see her face in the first section of the film. In part, this is probably to conceal her advanced age, but rather than compensate with pantomime, she pares the physical acting back as well. Duse’s performance in one particularly dramatic early scene is delivered in longshot, in shadow, behind distorting glass. Another moment of high tragedy (this is the story of a mother separated from her son) is delivered as an agonized shadow falling across a stone wall. Even though she can reveal her face in the later parts of the film, Duse often performs with her back to the camera or her face obscured by her cloak. It’s an excellent less-is more performance, and the other performances, though not as powerfully restrained, are forced to tone themselves down to respect Duse’s gravity, and they all benefit from the exercise.

It's certain that Duse didn't hurt the myth that is surrounding her and other great actors and actresses of which there is no record on film. I'm not sure if it's modern movie acting she does, it strikes me as some kind of ultra-restrained stage acting with very calculated gestures, but she seems to have understood well that you have to play different on film and she forces the whole cast to play to her down. It's all the more remarkable because she was surrounded by Italian divas who excelled in (unintentionally hilarious) overacting and had huge success this way, but she knew better.
I was however puzzled to which degree we don't see her. After all here is the legend on film and there are no close-ups, she plays with the back or is covered by her cloak, her partners get more exposure than her. A totally perplexing way to present a star!!! Was she telling the shots and wanted it this way? She was old, she plays the role of a mother of a young man in his twenties, so this fits quite well, no reason to hide her face.

Well, Suspense was as good as advertised. I don't have anything to add about the technical prowess of the film, which is detailed in this thread and in this post by Bordwell, but I wanted to mention what I thought was a nice literary touch as well. You can't do a whole lot of backstory in a 10-minute short, but the note the servant left mentioning the "lonesome house," followed by the phone call from the husband saying he was working late, turned what could have been just plot contrivances (which they still are, I guess) and at least partially fleshed out a family that has paid a price for its financial success. It's all just a minor footnote compared to the dynamic storytelling, of course, but I appreciated the effort to make the characters something more than ciphers. I watched Griffith's The Lonely Villa soon after, and it definitely suffered by comparison. So do other films of this ilk, though, such as A Narrow Escape, etc.

I'm still puzzled by the sheer inventiveness of this films. It looks as if Weber has thought: what nutty thing can we today today with the camera? It is right up with the films by Bauer and Christensen from 1913/14 with their silhoutte shots, high angles and so on, but it's eerily good like in the shot where the tramp walks into a Leone ultra-closeup. Where does this creative genius come from, Weber was a good director, but she never again showed that much innovative force, maybe she was too preoccupied with weigthy themes instead of pursuing her formal ambitions.

[thirtyframesasecond]

I've been watching two Léonce Perret films, 'The Mystery of the Rocks of Kador' and 'The Child of Paris', as featured on the 3rd disc of the Gaumont Treasures series. Wow! I know of Abel Gancé and Louis Feuillade in terms of French silent film makers, but Perret is not a name I'd ever come across. Why is this? Both of these films are quietly astonishing. The technical innovations and virtuosity seem to be way ahead of what say, Griffith was achieving across the Atlantic at the time. '...Kador' plays some neat mind games with the audience, but its 'The Child of Paris', a tender, moving tale of friendship between a young orphan girl and a hunchbacked cobbler that really stands out. Amazing stuff.

[Saturnome]

Panoramic View of the Morecambe Sea Front

Wow! All the things happening here. The man playing with his umbrella, the one missing a leg, the three guys walking together then crossing the street with one waving at the camera, the children running... And then the shots where nobody moves and look at you! That's fascinating.


Regarding The Abyss' ending (I wish I had something better to comment on), I remember how confused I was the first time I've seen this. But it is frequent in other danish films of the period (such as Benjamin Christensen's two early films) so it took me about a year to get it. #-o

[nsps]

As pointed out, the Lumieres aren't exactly a good comparison. In fact what is that's readily available. The Edison box once again cemented the importance of Porter while we still have nothing or few editions of comparable weight for other companies and countries. There's Guy Blache and R.W. Paul, but I think we are in bad need for an update and expansion of the Early Cinema program.

I didn't compare Porter's films to the Lumieres, I said that he was part of the Edison giant. I guess when we're dealing with this era, "early" isn't a very precise word. When I said the "early" Edison films, I meant the Lumiere contemporary material that pre-dates Porter. I'm not saying it's fair to Porter, I'm saying that in my experience (and that experience predates the Edison box), the negative opinion of those Edisons seems to have rubbed off a bit on some later Edison filmmakers.

Here are some examples of the negative comparisons I'm referencing:
The Lumiere films were projected on a screen for audiences rather than viewed one-at-a-time in one of Edison's boxes. (This appeals more to our love of modern cinema experience than the actual quality of the films, so I don't think it's that valid in evaluating the actual content.)

The Edison crews shot awkward pieces in the Black Maria while the Lumieres were shot on location and had more of a human touch. (I do think this is valid—I find I'm often more moved by the quiet personal moments in a Lumiere film than the site of Annie Oakley shooting shit.)

Anyhow, maybe it's just the circles I consorted with, but it always seemed that the later Edison films, even the highly successful and/or influential ones, weren't always looked on with that much respect, in part because of a dislike of how things were run there and in part because of its reputation.

[myrnaloyisdope]

I watched J'Accuse this weekend and it was more or less what I was expecting. I had seen some of the clips in Kevin Brownlow's Silent Europe and they looked amazing, but I'd also read about the incongruity of the love triangle in the film. The film is wildly uneven but always compelling and of course the final sequence is astonishing. Jean Diaz holding court and ranting about the risen dead is one of the most harrowing sequences in all of slent cinema right up there with the suicide sequence in The Phantom Carriage. Absolutely captivating stuff. I was very impressed with the Severin-Mars performance, it's an incredibly difficult transition and he handles it beautifully particularly in light of how unsympathetically he is introduced. Kudos to Flicker Alley for putting it out in a fine edition, I'll be sure to grab it in the near future.

I also watched Lois Weber's Where Are My Children? from 1916. It's a rather cynical but quite moving anti-abortion drama that is quite nicely directed. Tyrone Power Sr. plays a pro-birth control lawyer who wants a child, but who believes his wife (Helen Riaume) is unable to give birth. It turns out that his wife along with her socialite friends regularly get abortions from a shady doctor suspiciously named Dr. Malfit (!). Of course the big secret comes out, and Power is devastated, which leads to an astonishing closing shot, that features Power and Riaume sitting and looking forlorn as they both age decades while their aborted children appear superimposed undergoing a similar aging. It's a really haunting and perfectly executed sequence that indicates how great Weber was. I'm excited to check out Suspense and some of her other features. Anyone have a copy of The Dumb Girl of Portici?

[zedz]

And yes, Asta Nielsen is perfect for the role, and that dance scene indeed is quite titillating even today. But the absence of over-acting and a general subtlety in portrayal seems to be characteristic for these early Danish films in general, especially if you compare them with American productions. But you say the films was a 'sensation' at the time, so I wonder whether this 'new' style of acting was created with this film? Sadly, as always with the DFI, there is no contextual information included in the disc, so I know nothing about how it was received at the time. But I could imagine that the success was more because of that dance scene.

My info on Nielsen is pretty much limited to programme notes from a Nielsen retro I saw back in the 90s, and my understanding is that this film was a huge hit and a lot of the attention (understandably) focussed on Nielsen, who subsequently became one of cinema's first 'star attractions', an adored actress who could drag audiences in with her name (along the lines of star theatre actresses of the era). This went beyond phenomena like 'The Biograph Girl' and places Nielsen as one of the first 'movie stars' in the modern sense, with a following independent of her specific films. And it didn't hurt that she was a great screen actress. (I've always assumed that 'Asta' the Thin Man dog was named after her, but I have no idea if this is really the case.)

The scandalous nature of her erotic dance in The Abyss was assumed to be the spark that ignited her popularity, but she very astutely managed to build that into a major career and lasting fame.

[swo17]

I just got through the Kino set on Alice Guy, and while I was quite impressed by the main attraction (The Birth, the Life and the Death of Christ) the one that really caught me by surprise was the synchronized phonoscene Félix Mayol Performs "Indiscreet Questions". Here's a guy singing in perfect synch with the movement of his mouth, and it's in color to boot! I know the color was stenciled in, but the effect is absolutely convincing. See for yourself:



I mean, this still looks pretty old, but could totally pass for a faded outtake from The Lawrence Welk Show or something. And Guy made this in 1905!

[Dr Amicus]

Rewatched Paul's The ? Motorist the other night, I've noted before this is a favourite. Obviously the nature of the film suggests comparisons with Melies, I was struck by its grounding in the everyday. From the Melies that I've seen, many of his films are clear fantasies, and seem to me to play on this - they highlight the 'trick', the fantasy aspect of the film. Paul's film is very different - yes, it involves a car flying into space and driving round the rings of Saturn (presumably) but it does so in a very matter of fact way by just driving straight at a building and then up it, and from there into space. The point is, it just happens - the fantasy is rooted very clearly in the everyday.

Going further, the motorcar and cinema were fairly contemporaneous inventions - I know much has been written about the importance of rail and early cinema, but the motorcar seems pretty important too. The fact that both these inventions allow transport to another place (physical or metaphorical) pushes to a reading of the film as a self-reflexive piece on the power of cinema to transport us anywhere, and not just to the factory gates.

Of course, it's grounding in the everyday and cheerful visual oddness are a feature of much British SF film in general (certainly moreso I would argue than US SF) - is it too much to see a line from the car that can travel into space (and can mysteriously change to a horse an trap) to a time machine that is stuck in the shape of a 1950s Police Box and is bigger on the inside?

On the other hand, it's a cracking little trick film with a sense of humour that I like as much as the best of Melies.

[swo17]

I agree--it's a charming little film. A point of pedantry though--I believe it was only Paul's studio that put this film out. The director was actually Walter R. Booth. (Someone please correct me if I'm wrong.)

[zedz]

May it be "Ride on the Tramcar through Belfast"? A very great film, too.

This prompted me to dig out those discs and find the film I was thinking of, but to my dismay it doesn't appear on Electric Edwardians (or in Ireland).

I'm pretty sure it's the 1902 Tram Rides through Nottingham, and excerpts from it can be seen in The Lost World of Mitchell & Kenyon (first episode). In that series, the presenter Dan Cruikshank is more interested in the glimpses of contemporary life it affords, whereas I was more interested in the casual cinematic effects (which he plays down and cuts out). It's a much busier street film than a lot of them, with the camera at street level, and the route is more circuitous, so this 'phantom ride' is rather more dynamic than some of their other ones. The reflective effects come when the tram turns a corner alongside another tram (which it's been following - I'll get back to this, as it's one of the film's great strengths, in my opinion) and creates a kind of double, contradictory swish-pan effect. You can see a bit of this in the documentary (or maybe all of it, unamplified by my overactive imagination!)

The 'Cubist' dimension, I now realise, has more to do with the other trams we see in the film, particularly the one it's following (proudly advertising 'Pindar's Gloves'), which moves in and out of the frame as the route twists and turns. It means that the vehicle for the 'phantom ride', normally invisible, is mysteriously refracted within the image, stitched into the journey in glancing glimpses, and able to be reconstructed. And I now also realise that this is something the film has in common with my beloved Bitzer.

Scanning through the Mitchell & Kenyon discs was its own reward, however. One film that stood out was Tram Ride into Halifax (also 1902 - hope I've got the right film), which gets away from the usual focus on people and their activities and focuses instead on the bleak, geometrical pastoral / industrial landscape. Visually, this is a very strong and unusual film for the period.

And hey, it's on YouTube!

[Tommaso]

Ah, too bad that the Nottingham film doesn't seem to be available at youtube, as I don't have the "Lost World of M&K" disc. From your description it really sounds like a stand-out piece, so I'm surprised it wasn't included in the "Electric Edwardians" release. Perhaps we should all clamour for another BFI-M&K-disc, but I have the feeling that the last two, "Edwardian Sports" and "M&K in Ireland" didn't receive the attention they deserved. I agree completely about "Halifax", btw. It's indeed very unusual as it doesn't care about people being in it; after all, most of these films were made with the commercial idea that the people appearing in it would want to see themselves on the screen the same evening or the next day!

Different topic: I've just watched Stellan Rye's 1913 version of "Der Student von Prag" (the very watchable version with Italian titles that is floating around in the usual backchannels). This will very surely make it into the higher ranks of my list, and I'm not sure whether I don't prefer it to the Galeen version. While Galeen's seems to be a typical example of the 'demonic screen', Rye's version places more emphasis on the lavish sets and the historical places where it was filmed. Thus, in a curious way I find the Rye film more 'objective' - more 'classical' is perhaps the better word - and that's something I definitely liked especially for a somewhat sensationalist story like this one. Wegener is very cool here, too, best perhaps in the card-game scene. You might object against the over-acting which is very obvious in places, but in terms of shot variation and use of space, and the sheer beauty of what we see on screen, it is really quite astonishing for a 1913 film. Now I only have to see the 1935 sound version by Arthur Robison, with Anton Walbrook (!!) as Balduin...

[Dr Amicus]

I agree--it's a charming little film. A point of pedantry though--I believe it was only Paul's studio that put this film out. The director was actually Walter R. Booth. (Someone please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Just checked out Screenline - and you're quite right. Looking at some of the films mentioned there makes me hope for some more early film collections from the BFI...

[thirtyframesasecond]

Moving onto some of the films of Evgeni Bauer now.....saw "A Revolutionary" yesterday, which was fine - really current in dealing with events at the time, made in 1917 between the two revolutions after the fall of the Tsarist regime and the provisional government being installed (which Bauer seems to implicitly support), but his final film, 'For Happiness', also made in 1917 was a wonderful tragic melodrama about a rich widow and her would-be suitor. I'd go as far as to say it's the most impressive film I've seen so far on this little project.

[swo17]

Moving back to what we were talking about before, I'm curious what zedz thinks about two other Bitzer-helmed films from the More Treasures set: Panoramic View, Aisle B, Westinghouse Works and From Leadville to Aspen: A Hold-Up in the Rockies. The former is a smooth aerial ride through a factory that was apparently achieved by taking the camera along on a crane that hung from the ceiling. The latter is a phantom ride on a train that is eventually hijacked by thieves, the suspense for which is heightened by the near constant motion of the camera and the great expansive landscape serving as backdrop to the events on the ground. I found them both quite impressive technically, and can imagine audiences having been thrilled by them at the time.

[zedz]

Those are both great films, particularly the eerie, mysterious Westinghouse one, which I think deserves a place on my list. If a few minutes of Inland Empire had been occupied by that tracking shot, would anybody have batted an eyelid? Both films have strong, obvious connections with the subway one, but the contrast just points out how much richer that one is. Part of it is that those two films are far more directly functional: one's documenting an industrial process; the other's a narrative. The subway film has its extra dimensions of reflexivity and abstraction and without those direct functions is more about pure visual and physical sensation.

Seeing that Westinghouse film again reminds me of Len Lye's tour-de-force of editing Rhythm, one of the greatest of all industrial films. One minute of absolute genius that speeds you through an industrial process without any of the usual stylistic crutches (stop motion, dissolves etc).

[knives]

I kind of wish that Aspen had just been that tracking shot, not bothering with the interiors. Unique way to show a robbery.

[myrnaloyisdope]

I kind of wish that Aspen had just been that tracking shot, not bothering with the interiors. Unique way to show a robbery.

Totally agree, I think the idea of a Lumiere-esque actualité turning into a staged narrative is a really fascinating one.

[swo17]

I was fortunate enough to find a copy of the Lumière Brothers' First Films at my local library and it was a real treat. I had of course already seen a handful of these films on various other compilations, but Bertrand Tavernier's narration was an absolute riot, and in many cases, helped me to greater appreciate the richness of these films. The only problem was that the films just flew by, usually without being mentioned by name, so it was difficult to keep track of them. A limited search on the internet didn't turn up anything better than this very incomplete list. It would be nice to know the names of as many of these films as possible, particularly for our listmaking purposes. Can anybody help with this? For purposes of discussion, I've used some made up names below.

A couple of films that stood out to me included Moving Pavement at the Paris Exhibition (#24 on the list that I linked to, IMDb lists this as Inauguration de l'exposition universelle) that made for a nice optical illusion of an apparent tracking shot but without the buildings in the background moving, and also Washerwomen on the River (#40, IMDb lists this as Laveuses sur la rivière), just a static shot with the river in the foreground, women doing laundry in the center of the frame, and a few men standing in the upper right corner of the frame, doing nothing. This was just a really well framed shot. There was also the film with the family of acrobats (Krémos: Sauts perilleux), which, just as Tavernier says is getting to the good part, does exactly that.

Also, the Lumières' Danse serpentine, which can be seen here, has to be the best of the early tinted serpentine dance films. Hey, maybe the people in that Amazon colorization thread were right after all!

[nsps]

Hrm, I've seen films numbered in the thousands, and specifically remember Assiettes tournantes is no. 1 in the catalogue, so I'm skeptical regarding the accuracy of the Nitrateville list. Of course, I do have an account there, so maybe I'll see if I can't make it more thorough.

[swo17]

Hrm, I've seen films numbered in the thousands, and specifically remember Assiettes tournantes is no. 1 in the catalogue, so I'm skeptical regarding the accuracy of the Nitrateville list. Of course, I do have an account there, so maybe I'll see if I can't make it more thorough.

That list I referenced was only meant to represent the roughly 85 films included in the Lumière Brothers' First Films and the order they played in that program.

[nsps]

Oh—gotcha. I haven't seen that particular edition, so I'm afraid I can't help. Maybe I'll swing by the library and see if I can ID the remaining films.