silent cinema

I round out my coverage of the 2015 TCM Film Festival thanks to a mishap that resulted from inadequate festival planning on my part.

Initially, I intended on rounding out my evening by watching William Friedkin’s The French Connection. But as I exited my screening of The Apartment, I was shocked to see that the queue for the film stretched far, in and around the Hollywood and Highland Center. With a tinge of disappointment, I headed over to the multiplex to catch my plan B.

edison-home-phonograph

As I entered the theatre to attend Return of the Dream Machine, the audience and I were greeted to some “pre-show” music by Galen Wilkes, played on a 1908 Edison Phonograph, quite similar to the one pictured at the right:

After an introduction/history lesson courtesy of Randy Heberkamp, Managing Director of Preservation and Foundation programs for the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, the program officially began. With live musical accompaniment by Michael Mortilla, we watched a total of eight shorts, all hand-cranked by Joe Rinaudo and Gary Gibson, both attired in the garb for projectionists at that time, ranged in length, from one to ten minutes (a full reel).

Here were a few of the highlights (note: each link is a video link where you can watch the film yourself):

A Trip to the Moon (Le Voyage dans la lune Méliès, 1902) – really cool to see the hallmark sci-fi adventure on the big screen. In a day where splashy spectacle and CGI are the order of the day, it was refreshing and edifying to watch the genesis of such ingenuity and imagination. A perfect example that even in the dawn of cinema, its creators were thinking above and beyond to literally reach the stars.
Edison’s The Great Chain Robbery (1903) – the forests of Fort Lee, New Jersey never looked more “western?” No, but really, another icon of early cinema full of action, gunplay and a very recognizable closing shot.
A Corner in Wheat (D.W. Griffith, 1909) – while I have my own thoughts about the man and his body of work it would be remiss of me to dismiss this film is an early demonstration of Griffith’s ability to craft an interconnected, epic-scale narrative.
The Dancing Pig (Le Cochon Danseur Pathé, 1907) – we have a human-sized, standing on its hind legs pig, in various states of (un)dress and dancing with a human companion. This is the stuff of (very entertaining) nightmares.
Suspense (Lois Weber, 1913) Another one reel wonder where the filmmaker and leading lady Weber is able to create a tension-filled drama. I can imagine the amazement on an audience’s at seeing this play out on the big screen.

Oh yeah, when I said eight films – I fibbed – it was actually NINE! As the session came to its conclusion, we were presented with the world premiere restoration of the 1905 version of Serpentine Dance . Who would have thunk that watching a 2 minute clip could elicit such a feeling of whimsy in this cynical New Yorker?

Joe Rinaudo, assisted by Gary Gibson, operating the 1909 hand-cranked Power's Model 6 Cameragraph Motion Picture Machine — Joe Rinaudo, assisted by Gary Gibson, operating the 1909 Hand-Cranked Power’s Model 6 Cameragraph Motion Picture Machine

And with that, what a memorable way for me to round out another wonderful TCM Festival experience.
(Hopefully) see you all in 2016!

TCM CLASSIC FILM FESTIVAL

Photo Credit: Turner Classic Movies
1908 Edison Phonograph image: Public Domain

So I decided this weekend to see what all the fuss was about regarding The Artist. The words I heard were MAGICAL – INCANDESCENT – REMARKABLE. I always remain skeptical when I hear such praise vaunted on a picture. When I get to actually see the film, my concern is that it will not live up to the hype. However in this case, the praise is well deserved and well earned.

The Artist is set in Hollywood at the point where the silent and sound era converged. George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is a larger than life matinee idol of the silent era. A chance meeting with upstart Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) seems to be the point where both of their fortunes change. As Peppy makes a start in the film industry, George offers her advice that she will not forget.

With the dawn of the sound era, George Valentin popularity is on the decline; one final effort on his part to capture the glory days – he becomes the sole creative force behind his final outing, Tears of Love. The result is complete public rejection, financial ruin and the dissolution of his marriage (his wife is portrayed by Penelope Ann Miller). All he has left is a few artifacts of his past life and the companionship and loyalty of his chauffeur (James Cromwell) and precocious dog.

As George’s world comes tumbling down around him, Peppy Miller’s star is on the rise. She becomes a darling at the dawn of the sound age. But she never forgets the man who helped her at the very beginning of her career.

I do not want to give away too many of the plot details after this point, for fear that it will ruin the experience for you; that is a big clue that I think you should see it.

You will leave this film feeling many things – among them that this is a remarkable feat this is, especially in the days of the Hollywood blockbusting machine. It is great to see that there is an audience who clamor for an imaginative, well made, beautifully photographed and expertly performed throwback.

Granted as much as I am a fan of classic cinema, I never was hugely into silent films; I could probably count the number of films I have seen my two hands. But there is something, dare I say transcendent and magical, about the notion that so much can be conveyed with looks, expressions and physicality – no words necessary. To add to the experience, the orchestral accompaniment made me imagine I was sitting in the cinema of the 1920’s. There definitely is something to be said about the importance of a musical score to the film experience. And nowhere is this more evident in silent cinema.

This picture is a lovely ode to that bygone era.

The Artist is directed by Michel Hazanavicius and is a French production with English title cards.

Return of the Dream Machine (TCMFF 2015)

The Artist (2011) directed by Michel Hazanavicius