VIPRODUCTION
One writer gloomily said, recently, that every cinema was in a bad way, and inferred that the films were a failure; the distressing shrinkage of the audiences signified the general non-approval of the tone of the films submitted. It is not that the people have not the money; in spite of the stress of the times, cinema theatres are the best patronized places of amusement, and the fact that these companies are paying a dividend (anything from seventy-five to ninety per cent.), spells, in one word, “success,” which means a good turnover and good profits.
I do agree in this respect, that the British public is becoming much more critical, and in time will insist that it get its value, or else will steer clear of the cinemas. It is for themanagership to provide the films with the necessary tone. There are several factors governing this criticism and decline, and one is that the English film production started with an unsound foundation, or a bad tradition. Give a dog a bad name and it will stick to it, and to retrieve a lost reputation is a difficult feat, yet not an impossible one.
If the British producers were composed of Englishmen alone, and not a conglomeration of nationalities, the plots in the various novels and plays would be produced exactly as intended and not murdered and warped as at the present time. To read the book, then see the play, and finally the film, one is astonished at the vast difference in the rendering; the whole plot being considerably changed.
The rendering of the film should be exactly the same as the play, and as one reads, yet it is widely different. It is either “cut” or lengthened; the important is ignored and the unimportant is enlarged upon, showing in striking features the blunders perpetrated. What is the result of this doctoring? Insteadof the producers raking in the thousands and pleasing millions of patrons, the whole production is a miserable failure, and the reputation of the author as a writer is belittled in the eyes of the public.
To prevent this, the producers could approach the author to supervise the production and pay him a nominal retaining fee, and the public would be assured of an exact reproduction of the play or plot they have seen acted, and wish to see filmed.
In film production the British would create an improvement in their films if some of the American methods were copied. It is the latter’s custom to secure the presence of the author throughout the whole period of production, and his critical judgment and suggestions ensure the exact reproduction of the film as written.
All films are not a failure, far from it. Several British films have been excellently produced, and the plot has remained as originally written. This is what the reading public requires and looks for, especially when they are familiar with the story. The exactreproduction of the plot without alteration does much to secure the confidence of the patrons.
At the present time the British film-producers are handicapped by the American film-tax, which reduces considerably the scope of sale, but if only out of fairness to this country the tax should be dropped—or our Government must perforce raise a similar barrier to protect British producers in this country.
The prospects for British producers are brighter, and if they can exhibit at the various “Trade Shows” films worth seeing—from the standpoint of acting, scenario and production—then they need not fear a “block” in the bookings for English films.
The British public is patriotic, and it only remains for the British producers to bring out something really good for foreign competition to fall behind. Our keenest competitors are America, Germany, Italy and Switzerland.
Some remarkable blunders are perpetrated in the production of some modern films, either due to an oversight on the part of the producer who endeavours to make it too realistic, or inattention to details. These incidents have a tendency to do more harm to the cinema than good, for these little slips which have been allowed to creep in and appear on the screen are apt to make the picture patrons become impatient. Some people find amusement in the noting of all these blunders. Let me enumerate a few to show what I mean, for they are too apparent to escape notice. For instance—
A monk in a picture of the twelfth century is seen to switch off the electric light!
Louis the XIVth is supposed to remark to a lady-in-waiting, that she wants “taking down a peg,” an expression not quite in keeping with the period portrayed!
Again, it is just as ridiculous for vaccination marks to be shown on the left arm of a harem-queenof the East—period, a thousand years ago!
One sees such items as, a view of Curzon Street, showing huge pillared porticoes and palms.
A duke who wears appalling American “reach-me-downs.”
A duchess who is Irish, and therefore must say “Be jabers” and “Begorra.”
Views of English countryside and ducal park, displaying granite boulders, tropical palms and scores of American cars all on the wrong side of the road!
Another delightful oversight—a man who enters a strip of undergrowth wearing a tie, walks straight through and emerges with an up-to-date West End made-up bow, to the old miser in “Wuthering Heights”; the times are Victorian, and a conspicuous object is a safe made in 1915.
One laughs at the absurdity of the whole thing, when a lady in a crinoline is shown knitting a jumper; or a disreputable attic is furnished with a beautifully carved wooden bed, fitted with silken hangings.
Copies of the “Peerage” figure in this satire—of course it is American—and it is such instances which are creating a bad name for the cinema. American ignorance of the British peerage is shown in the film featuring an old Warwickshire family, Armitage by name; a beautiful daughter, the Honourable Diana Gwen Beaufort, etc., Armitage. Her young brother remained the plain unvarnished “Eddie”; her mother “Mrs. Armitage,” and they were apparently not on the same aristocratic level as the Hon. Gwen. A framed copy of the family crest is much to the fore. It is only too noticeable that the Hon. Gwendoline is in direct succession to the family honours, totally excluding her living brother. In the end this captivating young personage marries an ordinary American commoner; the honeymoon is spent at the ancestral home in Warwickshire—Armitage Castle. How, or why she got there the film story does not relate.
Such ignorance causes the public to distrust all films, and does much to lessen the attendance of intelligent people at the cinema theatres.
Most film pictures shown upon the screen are at present of the black and white variety, and colour films are sometimes spoken of as being generally impracticable. The main item which is the cause of the non-general appearance of these films in natural colour is the question of cost. Experiments have been highly successful, but the necessary standard of apparatus has to be secured to produce the colours of nature in reality, and this is the reason why natural colour films have been slow in receiving commercial recognition. The items entering into consideration are—extra equipment and extra help.
A colour-film has to be very realistic, and to secure its real market value its ascendancy over the ordinary black and white film has to be proved. If the “projector” required it to be elaborate, the stage effects to be in unison, its chances as a commercial venture are greatly reduced on account of the high cost of film rental. The various expensive processes of production have greatly retarded its progress—hence its rarity.
Colour films are usually accepted as natural colour films, whereas, in reality, natural colour sometimes does not exist. A great number of these natural colour films are hand painted, mostly produced in France, where this subtle art of colour deception is practised to advantage. Films are tastefully and artistically coloured, requiring excessive patience and skill from hundreds of workers; for it is no easy task to paint these miniatures, measuring one inch by three-quarters of an inch.
This process of painting is carried out by stages. One scene is gone through, taking a single character—a house, background or foliage in its various shades. The process is tedious and there lurks the ever-present danger of making mistakes which would spoil the whole effect.
Photography plays an important part in the reproduction in natural colours, and the fact that dyes and chemicals can be used for this purpose is overlooked by many people—red, orange, green, yellow, violet and blue, when mixed in varying degrees, produce any shade known to the human eye.
The earliest attempt at a natural colour process for the film was made in 1907; the combined efforts and experiments of an Englishman and an American. Their efforts were very successful, the pictures being particularly clear and realistic. An improved process has been developed which reproduces objects, whether stationary or in motion, bringing forth the natural colours to be found in nature at her best.
It is to be regretted that the colour films cannot be cheapened in the process of production, for nothing delights the hearts of patrons more than to see before their eyes scenes and places with which they are familiar; every object of still life (plants), or the living animals roaming amidst their natural-coloured surroundings.
The talking picture commenced its venture, fettered. It was introduced to the public whilst in its infancy; experiments had been few, hence these two combining factors failed to work in harmony, and consequently faith in its future progress was badly shattered.
The leading difficulty was the question of synchronising the sound and pictures, for to speak accurately they must be in perfect step. The simplest talking film is the combination of an ordinary phonograph and a projector. The phonograph placed near the actors registers the sounds whilst the camera records the action.
In the question of synchronism lies the difference of the various schemes promoted in the past; the two main essentials must be kept in unison, otherwise the whole thing becomes a farce. Intricate time-arrangements, synchronized motors, loud-speaking telephone arrangements have yielded but poor results. One attempt was tried whereby the film carried the sound record along one edge side by side with the pictures. A stylus is made to travel in a groove on the film, and apparently synchronization is complete, but the test results turned out anything but satisfactory.
For recording sounds or speech, sensitive microphones are distributed about the scene where the play is being acted. These microphones are skilfully concealed, in a fern orpalm, underneath a desk or table, anywhere so that it is skilfully camouflaged from the vision of the actors taking part. The sound waves impinging on the microphones are transferred to a circuit including a battery and a string-galvanometer, highly sensitive; the string attached to this galvanometer is hung over a series of very powerful electro-magnets, and the slightest fluctuations in the current passing through it causes an immediate distortion. Powerful arc lamps are mounted at the rear of the camera and a beam of light penetrates through the galvanometer, throwing a shadow of the wire on a steadily moving film behind a narrow horizontal slip. The wire is so arranged that one side of the exposed film is always in the shadow, the developed film shows a straight edge and a series of mountain tops, or peaks.
The galvanometer is the heart of the sound recorder. A single wire was employed in the earlier forms. An oil bath is provided through which the upper part of the wire passes, which damps the movement. This instrument can be easily opened; provision also being madefor adjusting the wire best suited for the sound record.
The reproducing process is easy. A fine telephonic relay, highly sensitive, is employed in circuit with the selenium cell and battery, in addition, a clear-speaking telephone with its own battery is operated in the secondary circuit. The second record of the film is transmitted into sound waves, which are generated throughout the cinema at the same time the pictures are being shown on the screen.
Quite recently in London a new process was shown, comprising a transmitter, electrically connected by means of an ordinary telephone wire to the reproducing instruments, which are placed in the frame of the screen, and a double turntable carries the musical records, which are automatically controlled by the film in such a way that the change from one record to another is made without pause or hesitancy, and in absolute conjunction with the movement of the pictures. An outstanding feature is that the apparatus can be easily connected with any existing cinema projector.
Speaking-films of short duration are a great attraction and fairly successful to undertake, but their real value as an effective synchronizer would be fairly tested reel film. The obstacles to be overcome here would be tremendous; it would mean constant rehearsing, over and over again, until the players were absolutely perfect in word as well as in action, and the excision of any part of the film would interfere with the reproduction.
Accidents sometimes happen to films, such as tearing, firing, severe scratching, and this necessitates the cutting away of part of the film. This possibility of interruption is minimized in the new apparatus; the operator can adjust the gramophone to make allowance for the cutting off of one or two feet of film, but not beyond this extent. Lecturers find the film not altogether satisfactory to aid them in demonstrating their lectures; the drawback lies in the fact that he sometimes wishes to stop the film to emphasize some particular passages in his lecture, but a new process has now come to his aid which willrelieve him of this anxiety. The film is passed through a water jacket, which is attached to the projecting machine, and this enables film to be stopped at any point, for any length of time. This experiment has been made with current ranging from 30 to 60 amperes, and even at 60 it has been found possible to maintain the film stationary for ten minutes.
Take Professor Stirling’s lecture. A Gallic cock is thrown upon a screen, life-like in its pride and colours; it ruffled its feathers and inflated its gorge, and opened its beak, then there came forth the most strident and triumphant cock-crows ever heard at dawn; and so perfectly did the sounds correspond to the actions of the bird, that it was almost impossible to believe that the real bird was not there.
After experiments extending over ten years, a Swedish engineer, M. Sven Berglund, has succeeded in inventing a speaking film, which ensures the simultaneous production of sound and action. Upon the heel of this invention comes another by an Englishman; the perfect voice-movement film having reached a definiteadvanced stage. The invention of a synchronizer by Mr. Claude H. Verity, a Harrogate engineer, enables the operator, by simply sliding a knob, quite independently of observing the screen, to work synchronization to 1-24th of a second. For operas with singing and music, a child could operate it because there is a fixed tempo. Should the film break by accident, the speaking can be shut off and taken up again. A great advantage of the invention is that with the apparatus in projecting boxes the synchronized film could be circulated in the ordinary way.
Still another invention by an Englishman, which goes a long way towards the perfection of these pictures, is one by which the pictures are made sharper and deeper in tone, besides being steadier; this is done by a series of mirrors. It has often been noticed that some of the pictures when thrown upon the screen lack “body,” or shall we call it “substance”? By this means the pictures are made more realistic than ever; the natural lines on the human face are visible, so life-like and human do they appear.
Screen improvements are also taking place. The new Ekualite diminishes the amount of eyestrain, and the front benchers may watch pictures without that periodical resting from the concentrated gaze. It ensures perfect comfort of vision from any angle of a cinema hall.
It is needless to point out that the extension of the idea is possible, the application of the cinematograph and chronophone are illimitable, and how much more will the Library lectures and “Half-hour talks” be appreciated! Hundreds of years hence, our descendants may see and hear their forefathers as if their living ghosts talked and walked, long after their bones have become dust.
British ingenuity and invention has produced a further revolution in film production, reducing cost and minimizing fire risks. The inventor of this innovation in paper photoplay is Mr. Martin Harper, of London, who also has the credit to his name of producing the “Extralite” flickerless shutter. The commercialsamples have been described as “everything the inventor claims for them.”
These paper films will not blacken or singe, which claim has been proved by subjecting them to the excessive heat generated by the projector, and they are absolutely non-inflammable. There is also an additional value to these films, when shown on the screen: they produce wonderful pictures, soft in tone, with more body than the celluloid films. These films will withstand wear and tear, the “jumping” of the film caused by vibration due to a well-worn film will be eliminated.
Other advantages derived from the appearance of the paper film are that the cost of production is claimed to be only one-tenth of the celluloid film. Lighting cost of projection is reduced by one-third, and the price of the projector, which is simple in construction in comparison with the complicated lens system, costs considerably less.
The outcome is obvious, and there is every possibility of the film and the projector being introduced into the home for amusement and entertainment during family gatherings at aChristmas treat, etc. Some people have actually had films prepared of the gambols of their own children, which in later years will be shown to them as “what they used to be in childhood.” This idea will undoubtedly grow now that the paper film has appeared and proved its durability.
Paper films will affect a whole number of concerns. Cinema-operating rooms need not be asbestos-lined to conform with fire-insurance policies; cost of construction will be easier and cheaper, and insurance rates will be lower. The operator also will be relieved of that ceaseless vigilance so necessary with a celluloid film.
The existing bye-laws now governing film exhibitions under the Cinematograph Act will be questioned. This Act only covers celluloid films; these printed paper slips are neither films nor celluloid.
All this reduced cost of purchase and maintenance will commend itself to private enterprises and manufacturers generally. Greater possibilities are foreshadowed in being able to demonstrate the efficiency of their finished articles.
The general use of the cinema in the schools has been “tabooed” in some quarters on account of the fire possibilities. This difficulty has now been overcome, so that one may see in the near future this voiceless teacher working and instructing the scholars.
Much more could have been said dealing with technicalities—such as the construction of the camera, editing, acting, trick photography and supposed realities; spirit photographs, cartoons becoming animated with life, and moving sculpture—but these must be left to the imaginative mind of the critic.