Cast: Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, Edwin Maxwell, Joseph Cawthorn, Clyde Cook, Geoffrey Wardwell, Dorothy Jordan, Frankie Genardi, Charles Stevens
63 min
Douglas Fairbanks 1929 – The Taming of the Shrew. Restored by jane for Dr. Macro’s High Quality Movie Scans website: http://www.doctormacro.com/index.html. Enjoy!
The first sound version of the play on film, this version was planned as a sound film from the start. Pickford had already made her sound film debut in Coquette (1929) so The Taming of the Shrew marked her second talkie. [1] This version of the film is primarily known for how Pickford delivers Katherina’s last speech. As she moves though the litany of reasons why a woman should obey her husband, she winks toward Bianca, unseen by Petruchio. Bianca smiles in silent communication with Katherina, thus acknowledging that Katherina has not been tamed at all. Pickford and Fairbanks’ marriage was breaking down even before filming began, and animosity between the couple increased during filming. In later years, Pickford stated that working on the film was the worst experience of her life, although she also acknowledged that Fairbanks’ performance was one of his best.
Reception
Fairbanks biographer Jeffrey Vance, writing in 2008, believes “Taming of the Shrew has never received the recognition it deserves as the first talking film of a Shakespeare play. It was not only technically superior to the majority of talking pictures in 1929 but would unquestionably be the finest translation onto film of Shakespeare for some time to come.” Vance also sees the film as a window into the Pickford-Fairbanks marriage: “As a reenactment of the Pickford-Fairbanks marriage, Taming of the Shrew continues to fascinate as a rather grim comedy. The two willful, larger-than-life personalities working at cross-purposes and conveying their resentment and frustration to each other through blatant one-upmanship and harsh wounds is both the movie and the marital union.” [2]
Home media
After many years out of circulation, the film was re-released in 1966 in a new cut supervised by Pickford herself. New sound effects and music were added throughout, much of the voice dubbing was enhanced with newly available technology, and seven minutes were cut from the initial print. This re-released version is the only version now available on DVD or VHS.[3]
Cast: Mary Pickford, Theodore Roberts, Thomas Meighan, Tully Marshall, Charles Ogle, Monte Blue, Winifred Greenwood, Helen Kelly, Val Paul, William H Brown, John Burton, Charles A Post, Guy Oliver, Steve Murphy, Harry L Rattenberry, Charles Stevens
The film takes place in the mining town of Red Gulch in the High Sierra. M’Liss (Mary Pickford) is one of the inhabitants whose father “Bummer” (Theodore Roberts) lost his fortune in the gold mines. Now his only investment, which pays a dividend, is his chicken Hildegarde. M’Liss regards herself as a crook and robs Yuba Bill’s stage coach. Yuba, however, is fascinated by the young lady and does not mind.
M’Liss is the only person in Bummer’s life, since his brother Jonathan, a wealthy pioneer, lives in San Francisco. One day, Jonathan turns his face toward the Sunset Trail. Clara Peterson (Winifred Goodwin) has been his nurse for over three years and her brother Jim (Val Paul) finds out they will receive $500 each for their services after his death. He is outraged they will get only that small amount of money.
Charles Gray (Thomas Meighan) is the school teacher who wants M’Liss to go to school as well. M’Liss isn’t interested in an education. Charles keeps on pursuing her and she finally decides to go. He demands her to mind her manners when she’s at school. She talks back to the boards members and is expelled. Charles, however, is charmed by the brave young girl. That same day, Bummer gets stabbed in the back by an unknown person. The sheriff suspects Charles, since he was the last person to visit Bummer.
When M’Liss is informed, she is crushed. She is invited to visit the murderer in jail and is shocked to find out it’s Charles. Three weeks later, a murder trial starts. M’Liss is the only one believing in Charles’ innocence. His wife Clara reaches town to visit him, only to find out he died. M’Liss refuses to believe she is her mother. Finally, Charles is sent to jail for 60 years. M’Liss helps him escape, but the police follow him. M’Liss witnesses them shooting Charles, but does not know they went after the wrong guy and actually shot Jim. Jim and Mexican Joe, the help of the sheriff, admit they killed Bummer for his will. The fortune is now send to M’Liss and a hidden Charles is set free and reunites with M’Liss.
Like many American films of the time, M’Liss was subject to cuts by city and state film censorship boards. For example, the Chicago Board of Censors required cuts, in Reel 5, of the intertitle “Say, sheriff, how about a little necktie party” and the scene of the sheriff looking up tree and dropping rope.[3]
Cast: Mary Pickford, Claude Gillingwater, Joseph J Dowling, James A Marcus, Kate Price, Fred Malatesta, Rose Dione, Arthur Thalasso, Colin Kenny, Emmett King, Madame De Bodamere, Jackie Condon, Gordon Griffith
Dir: Ernst Lubitsch ( and Raoul Walsh – Uncredited )
Cast: Mary Pickford, Holbrook Blinn, Irene Rich, George Walsh, Charles Belcher, Frank Leigh, Mathilde Comont, George Priolat, Bert Sprotte, Snitz Edwards, Phillippe De Lacy
Regisseur Ernst Lubitsch und die weibliche Hauptdarstellerin Mary Pickford bei Dreharbeiten zu ‘Rosita’, USA 1923. | The director Ernst Lubitsch and the female leading actress Mary Pickford during the shooting of ‘Rosita’, USA 1923., 01.01.1923-31.12.1923
Die Hauptdarstellerin Mary Pickford im Gespräch mit Regisseur Ernst Lubitsch bei den Dreharbeiten zu ‘Rosita’, USA 1923. | The leading actress Mary Pickford talks with the director Ernst Lubitsch during the shooting of ‘Rosita’, USA 1923., 01.01.1923-31.12.1923
The film takes place in Seville, in a period where the city has sunk into the depths of depravity and sin. Shocked by the depths his people have sunk to, the king of Spain (Holbrook Blinn) decides to give the town a visit when a carnaval is organized in order to redeem it. One of its inhabitants is Rosita (Mary Pickford), a beloved street singer praised by the townspeople for her entertainment.
Rosita is the only source of income to her poor family, who are always fighting each other. She is fed up with living in extreme poverty, while the king is living in wealth. After being forced to pay taxes, Rosita is enraged and comes up with a song in which she insults the king. Soon, the king is informed with the offensive ballad and visits her anonymously. Instead of being angry, he is charmed by the woman. However, the soldiers have come to arrest her for publicly insulting the king.
While being taken to prison, Don Diego (George Walsh) tries to defend her. Instead of convincing the soldiers to set her free, however, he is arrested as well. They fall in love at the police station, but she is unaware Diego is a powerful captain. By the king’s request, Rosita is set free and escorted to his castle. Diego, however, is told he will be hung. When she meets him, Rosita doesn’t believe he is the king. He tries to seduce her, but she isn’t impressed until he offers her fashionable clothes. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with him, but is pressured into giving in on his advances by her family, who see an opportunity on becoming wealthy.
Living a luxurious life in the castle, the family still feels disrespected. Rosita’s mother (Mathilde Comont) demands for her daughter to have a noble husband, and the king offers her to be married to Diego. Rosita’s mother is pleased, not knowing he will be sentenced to death shortly after the wedding. Diego is manipulated into participating by the offer of being shot like a respectable soldier, rather than hanged. At the wedding, they are married with their eyes covered, thus not knowing who they will be married to. The king’s plan fails when Rosita breaks the rules and looks at her future husband.
Rosita is shocked to learn her new husband is Diego, who is sent back to jail immediately. Rosita convinces the king to set Diego free. However, when she leaves, the king again orders the guards to kill Diego. Meanwhile, the queen (Irene Rich) has found out about his new fling and is furious.
Soon afterward, Rosita is informed that Diego has been executed. Devastated, she attempts to kill the king until she and the king find out Diego is still alive, and the lovers are reunited. The king leaves his castle to be confronted by his wife about his affair. She reveals she ordered the guards to spare Diego.
Prior to this movie, Mary Pickford mostly appeared in features portraying children. Pickford appealed to a fan magazine for new film ideas, and the magazine’s contributors wrote back that they wanted to see her play more child roles, such as Cinderella. Pickford thanked them and promptly set out to make a film with an adult role.
In 1922, her studio United Artists was not making any profits, despite releasing successful films such as Broken Blossoms, Little Lord Fauntleroy (1921) and Robin Hood (1922). Pickford was desperate to release a film which could perform well and free her of her image as an ingenue.
Lubitsch decided he could not make Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall. Pickford was annoyed, since she had already paid $250,000 on its preparations (and would eventually film the story later on). They looked for another story to make a movie out of, ultimately choosing Faust. However, the project was dropped when Pickford’s mother, Charlotte Hennessy, overheard Lubitsch discussing the baby killing scene and immediately nixed the idea. Lubitsch and Pickford eventually decided to film the opera Don César de Bazan, retitling it as Rosita. Lubitsch hesitated about making it, but Pickford eventually convinced him to work on the project.[3]
Pickford wanted Ramón Novarro to co-star opposite her as Don Diego. Rex Ingram, Navarro’s mentor, protested to this offer, reminding Novarro that Pickford once stated that Novarro’s “face and body do not match”.[4] Novarro followed Ingram’s advice and rejected the role.
Lubitsch later said working with Pickford was a delight. Pickford also enjoyed working with Lubitsch, and at first contracted him to make three more movies with her.[5]
Reception and release
After its release, the film became a huge success, earning over $1,000,000.[5] The movie was praised by both the critics and the audience. It eventually made profits for the studio.[6]
However, for reasons unknown Pickford decided the film was a failure.[7] She wanted the prints destroyed, and when she handed her films over for preservation she refused to hand over Rosita. However, another print was found.
Reportedly, leading actress Mary Pickford fought constantly with Sidney Olcott about the character. Olcott wanted Pickford to be more reserved and thought she was “too Americanized to play a Japanese”.[1]
Plot
The film takes place in Japan in 1904. Lieutenant Pinkerton (Marshall Neilan) marries Cho-Cho-San ‘Butterfly’ (Mary Pickford), a 15-year-old Japanese geisha. Cho-Cho-San is lucky with her new husband and takes the marriage very seriously. Pinkterton, however, regards it as entertainment. He is not in love with her and plans to break off the wedding in a month. The American Consul (William T. Carleton) begs him to break off the wedding as soon as possible, to avoid hurting her feelings. The lieutenant laughs him off.
After Pinkerton forces Cho-Cho-San to end their wedding reception early, her disapproving family disowns her. When Pinkerton is ordered to return to America, he promises Cho-Cho-San he will return before he leaves. Three years go by. Cho-Cho-San, now a mother, still believes Pinkerton will return someday, while he is engaged to an American woman. He sends her a letter to announce he will marry another woman, but Cho-Cho-San can’t read.
Meanwhile, The Prince of Japan (David Burton) takes interest in Cho-Cho-San, but she refuses his company and claims she is still waiting for her husband. Sometime later, Pinkerton returns to Japan but he hands the American Consul some money as compensation for Cho-Cho-San and leaves again. When Cho-Cho-San comes to ask about her husband, she runs into Pinkerton’s new American wife. The American woman asks Cho-Cho-San to give them her child, as he will be given better opportunities and prosperity under their parenting. Cho-Cho-San is crushed but complies and hands over her child. She kills herself in the final scene by walking into a river and drowning.
Cast; Mary Pickford, Roy Stewart, Mary Louise Miller, Gustav Von Seyffertitz, Charlotte Mineau, Spec O’Donnell, Lloyd Whitlock, Billy Butts, Monty O’Grady, Jackie Levine
84 min
kinopoisk.ru
Sparrows is a 1926 American silent film about a young woman who rescues a baby from kidnappers. The film, which was originally titled Scraps, starred and was produced by Mary Pickford, who was the most powerful woman in Hollywood at the time.[1][2]
Mr. Grimes and his wife operate a dismal “baby farm” near an alligator-infested swamp. Molly, an adolescent inmate and the oldest of their charges, attempts to provide the other tattered, starving kids with the loving maternal care they need. Most of the children are orphans. One mother sends her child a doll, but Grimes crushes its head and tosses it into the swamp.
The children are ordered to hide anytime someone comes to the farm. When a hog buyer shows up, Ambrose, the Grimes’ son, maliciously prevents Splutters, one of the children, from hiding. The buyer then purchases the boy from Grimes.
Molly has promised the others that God will rescue them. When a boy asks why nothing has happened after a month, she tells him that He is busy attending to sparrows (a biblical reference).
Ambrose catches Molly with stolen potatoes, so she and the others are given no supper. She pleads for the children, especially the sick, youngest baby, to no avail. Late that night, in a vision, Christ enters the barn where they sleep and takes the baby. When Molly wakes up, the child is dead.
Joe Bailey and his associate bring a kidnapped baby girl to the farm for concealment until they receive a ransom from the rich father, Dennis Wayne. When Grimes reads about the kidnapping in the newspaper several days later, he decides it is safer to chuck the baby into the swamp.
When Ambrose grabs the little girl to carry out the plan, Molly gets her back. After she fights off Grimes with a pitchfork, he strands her in the hayloft and decides he must get rid of her, too.
That night, Molly flees with the children. Grimes finds this hilarious; he figures either the mud or the alligators will take care of the children. However, when the kidnappers come back for the baby, he leads them on a search.
Meanwhile, Splutters is brought to the police station, having been discovered by one of the search parties. He tells the policemen and Mr. Wayne about the baby farm.
Molly and the kids emerge unscathed from the swamp and hide aboard a boat, unaware it belongs to the kidnappers. Pursued by the police, Grimes runs into the swamp, but falls into deep mud and perishes, while the two criminals flee in the boat. Unable to shake the harbor patrol, they try to slip away in a dinghy, but are run over and drown.
The baby is reunited with her wealthy father, but when she refuses to drink her milk without Molly, Mr. Wayne offers Molly a comfortable home. She accepts only on condition that he take in the other children as well.
Sparrows was Mary Pickford‘s next to last silent role; it was followed by 1927’s My Best Girl. After that, Pickford did some talking pictures before retiring to “Pickfair”, her estate with husband Douglas Fairbanks.[3]
Production
Although William Beaudine received critical acclaim both inside and outside the film industry for his direction, star Mary Pickford felt that he was too cavalier about the safety of the actors, especially in a scene where she had to carry a baby across some water filled with alligators. Pickford wanted to use a doll, but Beaudine insisted on using a real baby, since the alligators’ jaws were bound shut. However, Hal Mohr, the film’s director of photography., debunked this story, saying “There wasn’t an alligator within ten miles of Miss Pickford,” and revealing in precise detail how the effect was done.[3] Regardless, Pickford swore that Beaudine would never work for her or her company as long as she lived. She was as good as her word, as Beaudine never worked for her or United Artists again. Toward the end of the picture, they clashed so often that Beaudine developed a serious paralysis of his face from the pressure and aggravation. He finally turned the picture over to his assistant, Tom McNamara, and left the set. McNamara finished the picture uncredited.
Art director Harry Oliver transformed 3 acres (12,000 m2) of the back lot between Willoughby Avenue and Alta Vista Street into a stylized Gothic swamp. The ground was scraped bare in places, 600 trees were carted in, and pits dug and filled with a mixture of burned cork, sawdust and muddy water.
Filming began in July, over summer vacation. The children had the run of the set, barefoot and in costume, so they would become accustomed to the environment. Each child had a crew member assigned to fish them out of the gunk. These assistants also made sure the kids were cleaned up and comfortable with warm towels when they emerged from the swampy water.
Pickford developed a great fondness for two-year-old Mary Louise Miller. Pickford, who had no children of her own, even tried to adopt the toddler, but her parents refused.
An earlier version of the “Jesus in the barn” scene was filmed in which the dead baby’s spirit was carried to Heaven by a phosphorescent angel. The scene was rejected in favor of the Jesus take.
Critical reception
The New York Times: “Gustav von Seyffertitz, with a suspicion of Lon Chaney’s penchant for deformity, is emphatically capable as Mr. Grimes. Little as she does, Charlotte Minneau gives an excellent portrait of the cruel and unimaginative Mrs. Grimes. … Although Miss Pickford’s performance is as flawless as ever, it is doubtful whether she served herself well in selecting this special screen story, in which there is an abundance of exaggerated suspense and a number of puerile ideas. It is an obvious heartstring tugger during most of its length, and it frequently dallies with the thrills of old fashioned melodramas.”
Motion Picture Magazine, December 1925: “It was Douglas Fairbanks who told us that Mary Pickford’s production of “Sparrows” was Dickensonian. And after seeing it we have nothing less and nothing more to say of it. Perhaps you know that it is the story of a baby farm . . . with Gustav von Seyffertitz as Grimes, the cruel manager . . . and Mary, as Mollie, who watches over the little boys and girls. Melodrama is interwoven in the story and there is nothing new or startling about the plot. But you won’t realize this until the last lovely close-up of Mary has faded from the screen. Which means, of course, that the story interests you so much that your critical faculty is dulled. We are glad that Mary is not going to continue to play grown-ups parts. So many on the screen can be the grand lady. And no one else that we have ever heard about or seen captures the elusive and misty quality of childhood as Mary does. You’ll weep a little. You’ll laugh a great deal. And you’ll hold your breath once or twice.”
Picture Play, January, 1927: “The choice of “Sparrows” was a singular one for Mary Pickford to make, but no one can deny that she has done the picture surpassingly well. The subject is gloomy, and some of the horrors recall Dickens, yet the darkness is shot through with many laughs. Indeed, so heavily does the hand of melodrama smite “Sparrows” that the picture passes beyond the bounds of credibility. Thus the spectator relaxes, content to give way to his amazement at Mary’s skill. She is Mama Mollie, a lovely waif in whom the maternal instinct is well, there aren’t words to tell how strong it is, for she mothers eleven woebegone, poverty-stricken children at a baby farm kept by the villainous Grimes in the midst of a Louisiana swamp. A kidnapped baby is thrust by Grimes into the group and the plot gets underway, Mollie’s heroic efforts to keep the baby against the will of Grimes leading her and the entire brood into the deadly swamp. “Sparrows” is well worth seeing.”
Film historian Jeffrey Vance considers Sparrows to be Pickford’s masterpiece. In his program notes for the Giorante del Cinema Muto (also knows as the Pordenone Silent Film Festival,) Vance writes in 2008: “Sparrows is her most fully realized and timeless work of art. The film’s superb performances, gothic production design, and cinematography all serve a suspenseful, emotionally compelling story anchored by a central performance by Pickford herself imbued with pathos, humor, and charm.”[4]
Milestone Film & Video released the Library of Congress restoration of Sparrows to DVD and Blu-ray in 2012 as part of a box set called Rags and Riches: Mary Pickford Collection. The home video version contains an audio commentary track by film historians Jeffrey Vance and Tony Maietta.[7]
Cast: Mary Pickford, Eugene O’Brien, Antonio Maiori, Ernest Torti, Edwin Mordant, Jack Pickford, Edith Shayne, Cesare Gravina
48 min
Poor Little Peppina is a 1916 American silent film directed by Sidney Olcott. The film was in 1916 Mary Pickford‘s longest film to be made. It was soon surpassed by her later films.[1]
Robert Torrens (Edwin Mordant) is a wealthy American, residing in Italy with his wife (Edith Shayne) and only daughter, Lois (Eileen Stewart).[2] Franzoli Soldo (Antonio Maiori) is a mafia chief who pretends to be a butler and is in Torrens’ employ. One day, he drinks too freely of his masters’ wine. Fellow employee Pietro (Ernest Torti) informs Mr. Torrens, who next discharges Soldo.
Soldo wants revenge and kills Pietro. He is caught, however, and is being put on trial for the murder. He is found guilty and sentenced to a life in jail. One month later, a mafia member helps him escape. He is determined to take revenge on the Torrens family and kidnaps Lois. When the parents find out, they call the police. Soldo is soon thought of to be the kidnapper, but he ordered some of Torrens’ staff member to convince the parents Lois drowned in an accident.
Meanwhile, Soldo flees to his relatives, including his wife Bianca (Mrs. A. Maiori) – who is ordered to raise Lois as her own – and his son Beppo (Jack Pickford). Lois grows up to be Peppina (Mary Pickford), Beppo’s sister. Soldo decided to meanwhile take refuge in America. Fifteen years later. The Duchess, an American heiress, takes an interest in Peppina and teaches her English.
A man named Bernando wants to marry Peppina and convinces her parents to let him take her hand. Peppina, however, has no desire to be with him and asks the Duchess what to do. She helps her escape overseas and promises her a friend of hers will provide her a home in America. Peppina runs away from home in disguise and dresses up as a boy so nobody will recognize her.
Hugh Carroll (Eugene O’Brien) is on the boat as well and meets Amy, a socialite from New York. Peppina takes refuge in his cabin, but is soon caught by him. He provides her comfort and food and offers her to stay at his cabin for the night. However, he doesn’t know Peppina is actually a girl.
In New York, Soldo finds out the Torrens family will move to New York as well. He thinks he will be rewarded if he brings their daughter back to him and is determined to make some money. He sends his relatives in Italy a letter they should bring Peppina to him. Bianca responds she doesn’t know where Peppina is. Meanwhile, Peppina spots Hugh together with Amy and decides to leave him. In New York, she applies for a job in Soldo’s café.
After a bad experience with Soldo, Peppina becomes a messenger “boy”. When she is taken under arrest, she confesses she is actually a girl. Hugh happens to be a chief at the police station and releases Peppina and orders for Soldo to be taken under arrest. After Soldo arrives at the police station, Peppina realizes he was the one who abducted her as a child. Peppina is now recognized as the Torrens’ kid. Mr. and Mrs. Torrens are soon informed and reunited with their child.
Three years have passed. Peppina, now living in wealth, and Hugh are in love with each other.
Cinderella is a kind young woman who lives with her wicked stepmother and ugly stepsisters plus her evil father. They abuse her and use her as the house maid. Cinderella thinks she’s all alone in the world, but doesn’t know a fairy godmother is constantly helping her. One day, she is collecting wood from the forest and meets Prince Charming. They immediately fall in love with each other, but lose contact. Soon, a ball is arranged by the prince to look for his future wife. The stepsisters think they make a great chance in being chosen by the prince. Cinderella wants to go as well, but isn’t allowed to by her cruel family.
The sisters go to a fortune teller, who announces a member of the family will be chosen by the prince. The sisters are delighted and think it will be one of the two of them. When they leave for the ball, Cinderella is left behind. The fairy godmother appears and asks if she wants to go to the ball as well. When Cinderella responds positively, the fairy godmother orders her to bring her the biggest pumpkin she can find. Cinderella does so and the fairy godmother changes it into a luxurious stage coach. She next asks for the smallest mice she can find. Cinderella brings her some mice from the house and the fairy godmother changes them into horses.
The fairy godmother next orders her to bring her the biggest rats there are. After Cinderella collected them, the fairy godmother changes them into servants. She finally changes Cinderella’s poor maiden costume into a dress fit for a princess, and glass slippers, of course. She reminds Cinderella she will have to be back at home before the clock strikes midnight. Otherwise, her fine dress will turn into rags and the coach and servants will become what they were before.
As Cinderella arrives at the party, Prince Charming is already busy looking for his future wife. It is soon announced an unknown lady has arrived in a coach. Prince Charming immediately chooses her and they go to a private place where they learn to know each other. As they flirt, Cinderella notices it is almost twelve o’clock and storms out. She loses her glass slipper, before she turns into her old poor self again.
The next day, the royal heralds announce the Prince’s wish to marry the woman whose foot fits the lost glass slipper. The sisters go to the palace to try fit their feet into the slippers, while Cinderella is yet again forced to stay home. It becomes clear the royal heralds every woman of the town has tried but failed to wear the slippers, except for Cinderella. Prince Charming immediately goes to visit her and is shocked when he finds out she is a poor maid. He doesn’t turn his back against her, though, and he invites her to try on the slipper. When she does, she is announced as the future princess. The royal heralds give her the opportunity to behead her sisters, but she refuses to.
In the final scene, the fairy godmother appears and blesses her. Cinderella and Prince Charming live happily ever after.
A silent film is a film with no synchronized recorded sound, especially with no spoken dialogue. The silent film era lasted from 1895 to 1936. In silent films for entertainment, the dialogue is transmitted through muted gestures, mime and title cards which contain a written indication of the plot or key dialogue. The idea of combining motion pictures with recorded sound is nearly as old as film itself, but because of the technical challenges involved, synchronized dialogue was only made practical in the late 1920s with the perfection of the Audion amplifier tube and the introduction of the Vitaphone system. During silent films, a pianist, theatre organist, or, in large cities, even a small orchestra would often play music to accompany the films. Pianists and organists would either play from sheet music or improvise; an orchestra would play from sheet music.
The term silent filmis therefore a retronym—that is, a term created to distinguish something retroactively. The early films with sound, starting with The Jazz Singer in 1927, were referred to as “talkies“, “sound films”, or “talking pictures”. Within a decade, popular widespread production of silent films had ceased and production moved into the sound era, in which movies were accompanied by synchronized sound recordings of spoken dialogue, music and sound effects.
A September 2013 report by the United States Library of Congress announced that a total of 70% of American silent feature films are believed to be completely lost.[1] There are numerous reasons for the loss of so many silent films, three chief causes being: (a) intentional destruction by film studios after the silent era ended, (b) damage due to environmental degradation of the films themselves, and (c) fires in the vaults in which studios stored their films.
Roundhay Garden Scene 1888, the first known celluloid film recorded. The elderly lady in black was filmmaker Louis Le Prince’s mother-in-law and she died a week after this scene was taken.
The earliest precursors of film began with image projection through the use of a device known as the magic lantern. This utilized a glass lens, a shutter and a persistent light source, such as a powerful lantern, to project images from glass slides onto a wall. These slides were originally hand-painted, but stillphotographs were used later on after the technological advent of photography in the nineteenth century. The invention of a practical photography apparatus preceded cinema by only fifty years.[2]
The next significant step towards film creation was the development of an understanding of image movement. Simulations of movement date as far back as to 1828 and only four years after Paul Roget discovered the phenomenon he called “Persistence of Vision“. Roget showed that when a series of still images are shown at a considerable speed in front of a viewer’s eye, the images merge into one registered image that appears to show movement, an optical illusion, since the image is not actually moving. This experience was further demonstrated through Roget’s introduction of the thaumatrope, a device which spun a disk with an image on its surface at a fairly high rate of speed.[2]
The three features necessary for motion pictures to work were “a camera with sufficiently high shutter speed, a filmstrip capable of taking multiple exposures swiftly, and means of projecting the developed images on a screen.” [3] The first projected primary proto-movie was made by Eadweard Muybridge between 1877 and 1880. Muybridge set up a row of cameras along a racetrack and timed image exposures to capture the many stages of a horse’s gallop. The oldest surviving film (of the genera called “pictorial realism”) was created by Louis Le Prince in 1888. It was a two-second film of people walking in “Oakwood streets” garden, entitled Roundhay Garden Scene.[4] The development of American inventor Thomas Edison‘s Kinetograph, a photographic device that captured sequential images, and his Kinetoscope, a viewing device for these photos, allowed for the creation and exhibition of short films. Edison also made a business of selling Kinetograph and Kinetoscope equipment, which laid the foundation for widespread film production.[2]
Due to Edison’s lack of securing an international patent on his film inventions, similar devices were “invented” around the world. The Lumière brothers (Louis and Auguste Lumière), for example, created the Cinématographe in France. The Cinématographe proved to be a more portable and practical device than both of Edison’s as it combined a camera, film processor and projector in one unit.[2] In contrast to Edison’s “peepshow“-style kinetoscope, which only one person could watch through a viewer, the cinematograph allowed simultaneous viewing by multiple people. Their first film, Sortie de l’usine Lumière de Lyon, shot in 1894, is considered the first true motion picture.[5] The invention of celluloid film, which was strong and flexible, greatly facilitated the making of motion pictures (although the celluloid was highly flammable and decayed quickly).[3] This film was 35 mm wide and pulled using four sprocket holes, which became the industry standard. This doomed the cinematograph, which could only use film with just one sprocket hole.[6]
From the very beginnings of film production, the art of motion pictures grew into full maturity in the “silent era” (1894–1929). In artistic innovation alone, the height of the silent era from the early 1910s to the late 1920s was a fruitful period in the history of film — the film movements of Classical Hollywood, French Impressionism, German Expressionism, and Soviet Montage began in this period. Silent filmmakers pioneered the art form to the extent that virtually every style and genre of film-making of the 20th century had its artistic roots in the silent era. The silent era was also pioneering era from a technical point of view. Lighting techniques such as three point lighting, visual techniques such as the close-up, long shot, panning, and continuity editing became prevalent long before silent films were replaced by “talking pictures” in the late 1920s. Film scholars and movie buffs claim that the artistic quality of cinema decreased for several years, during the early 1930s, until film directors, actors, and production staff adapted fully to the new “talkies” around the late 1930s.[7]
The visual quality of silent movies—especially those produced in the 1920s—was often high. However, there is a widely held misconception that these films were primitive and barely watchable by modern standards.[8] This misconception comes from the general public’s unfamiliarity with the medium and technical carelessness. Most silent films are poorly preserved, leading to their deterioration, and well-preserved films are often played back at the wrong speed or suffer from censorship cuts and missing frames and scenes, resulting in what may appear to be poor editing.[citation needed]Many silent films exist only in second- or third-generation copies, often copied from already damaged and neglected film stock.[7]
Another widely held misconception was that silent films lacked color. In fact, color was far more prevalent in silents than in sound films for decades. By the early 1920s 80% of movies could be seen in color, usually in the form of film tinting or toning (i.e. colorization) but also with real color processes such as Kinemacolor and Technicolor.[9] Traditional colorization processes ceased with the adoption of sound-on-film technology. Traditional film colorization, all of which involved the use of dyes in some form, interfered with the high resolution required for built-in recorded sound, and thus were abandoned. The innovative three-strip technicolor process introduced in the mid-30s was costly and fraught with limitations, and color would not have the same prevalence in film as it did in the silents for nearly four decades.
Intertitles
As motion pictures eventually increased in length, a replacement was needed for the in-house interpreter who would explain parts of the film to the audience. Because silent films had no synchronized sound for dialogue, onscreen intertitles were used to narrate story points, present key dialogue and sometimes even comment on the action for the cinema audience. The title writer became a key professional in silent film and was often separate from the scenario writer who created the story. Intertitles (or titles as they were generally called at the time) often became graphic elements themselves, featuring illustrations or abstract decoration that commented on the action.[citation needed]
Live music and sound
Showings of silent films almost always featured live music, starting with the guitarist, at the first public projection of movies by the Lumière Brothers on December 28, 1895 in Paris. This was furthered in 1896 by the first motion picture exhibition in the United States at Koster and Bial’s Music Hall in New York City. At this event, Edison set the precedent that all exhibitions should be accompanied by an orchestra.[10]From the beginning, music was recognized as essential, contributing to the atmosphere and giving the audience vital emotional cues. (Musicians sometimes played on film sets during shooting for similar reasons.)
However, depending on the size of the exhibition site, musical accompaniment could drastically change in size.[2]Small town and neighborhood movie theatres usually had a pianist. Beginning in the mid-1910s, large city theaters tended to have organists or ensembles of musicians. Massive theater organs were designed to fill a gap between a simple piano soloist and a larger orchestra. Theatre organs had a wide range of special effects; theatrical organs such as the famous “Mighty Wurlitzer” could simulate some orchestral sounds along with a number of percussion effects such as bass drums and cymbals and sound effects ranging from galloping horses to rolling rain.
Film scores for early silent films were either improvised or compiled of classical or theatrical repertory music. Once full features became commonplace, however, music was compiled from photoplay music by the pianist, organist, orchestra conductor or the movie studio itself, which included a cue sheet with the film. These sheets were often lengthy, with detailed notes about effects and moods to watch for. Starting with the mostly original score composed by Joseph Carl Breil for D. W. Griffith‘s groundbreaking epic The Birth of a Nation (USA, 1915) it became relatively common for the biggest-budgeted films to arrive at the exhibiting theater with original, specially composed scores.[11] However, the first designated full blown scores were composed earlier, in 1908, by Camille Saint-Saëns, for The Assassination of the Duke of Guise,[12] and by Mikhail Ippolitov-Ivanov, for Stenka Razin.
When organists or pianists used sheet music, they still might add improvisational flourishes to heighten the drama on screen. Even when special effects were not indicated in the score, if an organist was playing a theater organ capable of an unusual sound effect, such as a “galloping horses” effect, it would be used for dramatic horseback chases.
By the height of the silent era, movies were the single largest source of employment for instrumental musicians (at least in America). But the introduction of talkies, which happened simultaneously with the onset of the Great Depression, was devastating to many musicians.
Some countries devised other ways of bringing sound to silent films. The early cinema of Brazil featured fitas cantatas: filmed operettas with singers performing behind the screen.[13] In Japan, films had not only live music but also the benshi, a live narrator who provided commentary and character voices. The benshi became a central element in Japanese film, as well as providing translation for foreign (mostly American) movies.[14] The popularity of the benshi was one reason why silent films persisted well into the 1930s in Japan.
Score restorations from 1980 to the present
Few film scores survive intact from the silent period, and musicologists are still confronted by questions when they attempt to precisely reconstruct those that remain. Scores used in current reissues or screenings of silent films may be: A) complete reconstructions of composed scores, B) scores newly composed for the occasion, C) scores assembled from already existing music libraries, or D) scores improvised on the spot in the manner of the silent era theater pianist or organist.
Interest in the scoring of silent films fell somewhat out of fashion during the 1960s and 1970s. There was a belief in many college film programs and repertory cinemas that audiences should experience silent film as a pure visual medium, undistracted by music. This belief may have been encouraged by the poor quality of the music tracks found on many silent film reprints of the time. Since around 1980, there has been a revival of interest in presenting silent films with quality musical scores, either reworkings of period scores or cue sheets, or composition of appropriate original scores. An early effort in this context was Kevin Brownlow‘s 1980 restoration of Abel Gance‘s Napoléon (1927), featuring a score by Carl Davis. A slightly re-edited and sped-up version of Brownlow’s restoration was later distributed in America by Francis Ford Coppola, with a live orchestral score composed by his father Carmine Coppola.
In 1984, an edited restoration of Metropolis (1927) was released to cinemas with a new rock music score by producer-composer Giorgio Moroder. Although the contemporary score, which included pop songs by Freddie Mercury of Queen, Pat Benatar, and Jon Anderson of Yes was controversial, the door had been opened for a new approach to presentation of classic silent films.
Currently, a large number of soloists, music ensembles, and orchestras perform traditional and contemporary scores for silent films internationally.[15] The legendary theater organist Gaylord Carter continued to perform and record his original silent film scores until shortly before his death in 2000; some of those scores are available on DVD reissues. Other purveyors of the traditional approach include organists such as Dennis James and pianists such as Neil Brand, Günter Buchwald, Philip C. Carli, Ben Model, and William P. Perry. Other contemporary pianists, such as Stephen Horne and Gabriel Thibaudeau, have often taken a more modern approach to scoring.
Orchestral conductors such as Carl Davis and Robert Israel have written and compiled scores for numerous silent films; many of these have been featured in showings on Turner Classic Movies or have been released on DVD. Davis has composed new scores for classic silent dramas such as The Big Parade (1925) and Flesh and the Devil (1927). Israel has worked mainly in silent comedy, scoring films of Harold Lloyd, Buster Keaton, Charley Chase and others. Timothy Brock has restored many of Charlie Chaplin‘s scores, in addition to composing new scores.
Contemporary music ensembles are helping to introduce classic silent films to a wider audience through a broad range of musical styles and approaches. Some performers create new compositions using traditional musical instruments while others add electronic sounds, modern harmonies, rhythms, improvisation and sound design elements to enhance the viewing experience. Among the contemporary ensembles in this category are Un Drame Musical Instantané, Alloy Orchestra, Club Foot Orchestra, Silent Orchestra, Mont Alto Motion Picture Orchestra, Minima and the Caspervek Trio. Donald Sosin and his wife Joanna Seaton specialize in adding vocals to silent films, particularly where there is onscreen singing that benefits from hearing the actual song being performed. Films in this category include Griffith’s Lady of the Pavements with Lupe Velez, Edwin Carewe‘s Evangeline with Dolores del Rio, and Rupert Julian‘s The Phantom of the Opera with Mary Philbin and Virginia Pearson.[citation needed]
The Silent Film Sound and Music Archive digitizes music and cue sheets written for silent film and makes it available for use by performers, scholars, and enthusiasts.
Acting techniques
29th September 1926: Lillian Gish (1893 – 1993) plays the real-life Scottish heroine of the film ‘Annie Laurie’, directed by John S Robertson.
Lillian Gish, the “First Lady of the American Cinema”, was a leading star in the silent era with one of the longest careers, working from 1912 to 1987
Silent film actors emphasized body language and facial expression so that the audience could better understand what an actor was feeling and portraying on screen. Much silent film acting is apt to strike modern-day audiences as simplistic or campy. The melodramatic acting style was in some cases a habit actors transferred from their former stage experience. Vaudeville was an especially popular origin for many American silent film actors.[2] The pervading presence of stage actors in film was the cause of this outburst from director Marshall Neilan in 1917: “The sooner the stage people who have come into pictures get out, the better for the pictures.” In other cases, directors such as John Griffith Wray required their actors to deliver larger-than-life expressions for emphasis. As early as 1914, American viewers had begun to make known their preference for greater naturalness on screen.[16]
Silent films became less vaudevillian in the mid 1910s, as the differences between stage and screen became apparent. Due to the work of directors such as D W Griffith, cinematography became less stage-like, and the then-revolutionary close up allowed subtle and naturalistic acting. Lillian Gish has been called film’s “first true actress” for her work in the period, as she pioneered new film performing techniques, recognizing the crucial differences between stage and screen acting. Directors such as Albert Capellani and Maurice Tourneur began to insist on naturalism in their films. By the mid-1920s many American silent films had adopted a more naturalistic acting style, though not all actors and directors accepted naturalistic, low-key acting straight away; as late as 1927, films featuring expressionistic acting styles, such as Metropolis, were still being released. [17] Greta Garbo, who made her debut in 1926, would become known for her naturalistic acting.
According to Anton Kaes, a silent film scholar from the University of Wisconsin, American silent cinema began to see a shift in acting techniques between 1913 and 1921, influenced by techniques found in German silent film. This is mainly attributed to the influx of emigrants from the Weimar Republic, “including film directors, producers, cameramen, lighting and stage technicians, as well as actors and actresses.[18]”
Projection speed
Cinématographe Lumière at the Institut Lumière, France. Such cameras had no audio recording devices built into the cameras.
Until the standardization of the projection speed of 24 frames per second (fps) for sound films between 1926 and 1930, silent films were shot at variable speeds (or “frame rates“) anywhere from 12 to 40 fps, depending on the year and studio.[19]“Standard silent film speed” is often said to be 16 fps as a result of the Lumière brothers’ Cinématographe, but industry practice varied considerably; there was no actual standard. William Kennedy Laurie Dickson, an Edison employee, settled on the astonishingly fast 40 frames per second.[2] Additionally, cameramen of the era insisted that their cranking technique was exactly 16 fps, but modern examination of the films shows this to be in error, that they often cranked faster. Unless carefully shown at their intended speeds silent films can appear unnaturally fast or slow. However, some scenes were intentionally undercranked during shooting to accelerate the action—particularly for comedies and action films.[19]
Slow projection of a cellulose nitrate base film carried a risk of fire, as each frame was exposed for a longer time to the intense heat of the projection lamp; but there were other reasons to project a film at a greater pace. Often projectionists received general instructions from the distributors on the musical director’s cue sheet as to how fast particular reels or scenes should be projected.[19] In rare instances, usually for larger productions, cue sheets produced specifically for the projectionist provided a detailed guide to presenting the film. Theaters also—to maximize profit—sometimes varied projection speeds depending on the time of day or popularity of a film,[20] or to fit a film into a prescribed time slot.[19]
All motion-picture film projectors require a moving shutter to block the light whilst the film is moving, otherwise the image is smeared in the direction of the movement. However this shutter causes the image to flicker, and images with low rates of flicker are very unpleasant to watch. Early studies by Thomas Edison for his Kinetoscope machine determined that any rate below 46 images per second “will strain the eye.”[19] and this holds true for projected images under normal cinema conditions also. The solution adopted for the Kinetoscope was to run the film at over 40 frames/sec, but this was expensive for film. However, by using projectors with dual- and triple-blade shutters the flicker rate is multiplied two or three times higher than the number of film frames — each frame being flashed two or three times on screen. A three-blade shutter projecting a 16 fps film will slightly surpass Edison’s figure, giving the audience 48 images per second. During the silent era projectors were commonly fitted with 3-bladed shutters. Since the introduction of sound with its 24 frame/sec standard speed 2-bladed shutters have become the norm for 35 mm cinema projectors, though three-bladed shutters have remained standard on 16 mm and 8 mm projectors which are frequently used to project amateur footage shot at 16 or 18 frames/sec. A 35 mm film frame rate of 24 fps translates to a film speed of 456 millimetres (18.0 in) per second.[21] One 1,000-foot (300 m) reel requires 11 minutes and 7 seconds to be projected at 24 fps, while a 16 fps projection of the same reel would take 16 minutes and 40 seconds, or 304 millimetres (12.0 in) per second.[19]
In the 1950s, many telecine conversions of silent films at grossly incorrect frame rates for broadcast television may have alienated viewers.[22] Film speed is often a vexed issue among scholars and film buffs in the presentation of silents today, especially when it comes to DVD releases of restored films; the 2002 restoration of Metropolis (Germany, 1927) may be the most fiercely debated example.[citation needed]
With the lack of natural color processing available, films of the silent era were frequently dipped in dyestuffs and dyed various shades and hues to signal a mood or represent a time of day. Hand tinting dates back to 1895 in the United States with Edison’s release of selected hand-tinted prints of Butterfly Dance. Additionally, experiments in color film started as early as in 1909, although it took a much longer time for color to be adopted by the industry and an effective process to be developed.[2] Blue represented night scenes, yellow or amber meant day. Red represented fire and green represented a mysterious atmosphere. Similarly, toning of film (such as the common silent film generalization of sepia-toning) with special solutions replaced the silver particles in the film stock with salts or dyes of various colors. A combination of tinting and toning could be used as an effect that could be striking.
Some films were hand-tinted, such as Annabelle Serpentine Dance (1894), from Edison Studios. In it, Annabelle Whitford,[23]a young dancer from Broadway, is dressed in white veils that appear to change colors as she dances. This technique was designed to capture the effect of the live performances of Loie Fuller, beginning in 1891, in which stage lights with colored gels turned her white flowing dresses and sleeves into artistic movement.[24] Hand coloring was often used in the early “trick” and fantasy films of Europe, especially those by Georges Méliès. Méliès began hand-tinting his work as early as 1897 and the 1899 Cendrillion (Cinderella) and 1900 Jeanne d’Arc (Joan of Arc) provide early examples of hand-tinted films in which the color was a critical part of the scenography or mise en scène; such precise tinting used the workshop of Elisabeth Thuillier in Paris, with teams of female artists adding layers of color to each frame by hand rather than using a more common (and less expensive) process of stenciling.[25] A newly restored version of Méliès’ A Trip to the Moon, originally released in 1902, shows an exuberant use of color designed to add texture and interest to the image.[26]
By the beginning of the 1910s, with the onset of feature-length films, tinting was used as another mood setter, just as commonplace as music. The director D. W. Griffith displayed a constant interest and concern about color, and used tinting as a special effect in many of his films. His 1915 epic, The Birth of a Nation, used a number of colors, including amber, blue, lavender, and a striking red tint for scenes such as the “burning of Atlanta” and the ride of the Ku Klux Klan at the climax of the picture. Griffith later invented a color system in which colored lights flashed on areas of the screen to achieve a color.
With the development of sound-on-film technology and the industry’s acceptance of it, tinting was abandoned altogether, because the dyes used in the tinting process interfered with the soundtracks present on film strips.[2]
The first westerns were filmed at Fred Scott’s Movie Ranch in South Beach, Staten Island. Actors costumed as cowboys and Indians galloped across Scott’s movie ranch set, which had a frontier main street, a wide selection of stagecoaches and a 56-foot stockade. The island provided a serviceable stand-in for locations as varied as the Sahara desert and a British cricket pitch. War scenes were shot on the plains of Grasmere, Staten Island. The Perils of Pauline and its even more popular sequel The Exploits of Elaine were filmed largely on the island. So was the 1906 blockbuster Life of a Cowboy, by Edwin S. Porter. Company and filming moved to the West Coast around 1911.
Top-grossing silent films in the United States
The following are American films from the silent film era that had earned the highest gross income as of 1932. The amounts given are gross rentals (the distributor’s share of the box-office) as opposed to exhibition gross.[27]
Although attempts to create sync-sound motion pictures go back to the Edison lab in 1896, only from the early 1920s were the basic technologies such as vacuum tube amplifiers and high-quality loudspeakers available. The next few years saw a race to design, implement, and market several rival sound-on-disc and sound-on-film sound formats, such as Photokinema (1921), Phonofilm (1923), Vitaphone (1926), Fox Movietone (1927) and RCA Photophone (1928).
Warner Bros was the first studio to accept sound as an element in film production and utilize Vitaphone, a sound-on-disc technology, to do so.[2] The studio then released The Jazz Singer in 1927 which marked the first commercially successful sound film, but silent films were still the majority of features released in both 1927 and 1928, along with so-called goat-glanded films: silents with a subsection of sound film inserted. Thus the modern sound film era may be regarded as coming to dominance beginning in 1929.
For a listing of notable silent era films, see list of years in film for the years between the beginning of film and 1928. The following list includes only films produced in the sound era with the specific artistic intention of being silent.
Several filmmakers have paid homage to the comedies of the silent era, including Jacques Tati with his Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot (1953) and Mel Brooks with Silent Movie (1976). Taiwanese director Hou Hsiao-Hsien‘s acclaimed drama Three Times (2005) is silent during its middle third, complete with intertitles; Stanley Tucci‘s The Impostors has an opening silent sequence in the style of early silent comedies. Brazilian filmmaker Renato Falcão’s Margarette’s Feast (2003) is silent. Writer / Director Michael Pleckaitis puts his own twist on the genre with Silent (2007). While not silent, the Mr. Bean television series and movies have used the title character’s non-talkative nature to create a similar style of humor. A lesser-known example is Jérôme Savary‘s La fille du garde-barrière (1975), an homage to silent-era films that uses intertitles and blends comedy, drama, and explicit sex scenes (which led to it being refused a cinema certificate by the British Board of Film Classification).
Some films draw a direct contrast between the silent film era and the era of talkies. Sunset Boulevard shows the disconnect between the two eras in the character of Norma Desmond, played by silent film star Gloria Swanson, and Singin’ in the Rain deals with the period where the people of Hollywood had to face changing from making silents to talkies. Peter Bogdanovich‘s affectionate 1976 film Nickelodeon deals with the turmoil of silent filmmaking in Hollywood during the early 1910s, leading up to the release of D. W. Griffith‘s epic The Birth of a Nation (1915).
In 1999, the Finnish filmmaker Aki Kaurismäki produced Juha, which captures the style of a silent film, using intertitles in place of spoken dialogue.[28] In India, the film Pushpak (1988),[29] starring Kamal Hassan, was a black comedy entirely devoid of dialog. The Australian film Doctor Plonk (2007), was a silent comedy directed by Rolf de Heer. Stage plays have drawn upon silent film styles and sources. Actor/writers Billy Van Zandt & Jane Milmore staged their Off-Broadway slapstick comedy Silent Laughter as a live action tribute to the silent screen era.[30] Geoff Sobelle and Trey Lyford created and starred in All Wear Bowlers (2004), which started as an homage to Laurel and Hardy then evolved to incorporate life-sized silent film sequences of Sobelle and Lyford who jump back and forth between live action and the silver screen.[31] The animated film Fantasia (1940), which is eight different animation sequences set to music, can be considered a silent film, with only one short scene involving dialogue. The espionage film The Thief (1952) has music and sound effects, but no dialogue, as do Thierry Zéno‘s 1974 Vase de Noces and Patrick Bokanowski‘s 1982 The Angel.
In 2005, the H. P. Lovecraft Historical Society produced a silent film version of Lovecraft’s story The Call of Cthulhu. This film maintained a period-accurate filming style, and was received as both “the best HPL adaptation to date” and, referring to the decision to make it as a silent movie, “a brilliant conceit.”[32]
The French film The Artist (2011), written and directed by Michel Hazanavicius, plays as a silent film and is set in Hollywood during the silent era. It also includes segments of fictitious silent films starring its protagonists.[33]
The Japanese vampire filmSanguivorous (2011) is not only done in the style of a silent film, but even toured with live orchestral accompiment.[34][35]Eugene Chadbourne has been among those who have played live music for the film.[36]
Blancanieves is a 2012 Spanish black-and-white silent fantasy drama film written and directed by Pablo Berger.
The American feature-length silent film Silent Life started in 2006, features performances by Isabella Rossellini and Galina Jovovich, mother of Milla Jovovich, will premiere in 2013. The film is based on the life of the silent screen icon Rudolph Valentino, known as the Hollywood’s first “Great Lover”. After the emergency surgery, Valentino loses his grip of reality and begins to see the recollection of his life in Hollywood from a perspective of a coma – as a silent film shown at a movie palace, the magical portal between life and eternity, between reality and illusion.[37][38]
Right There is a 2013 short film which is an homage to silent film comedies.
The American Theatre Organ Society pays homage to the music of silent films, as well as the theatre organs which played such music. With over 75 local chapters, the organization seeks to preserve and promote theater organs and music, as an art form.[39]
Preservation and lost films
Kevin Brownlow
Many early motion pictures are lost because the nitrate film used in that era was extremely unstable and flammable. Additionally, many films were deliberately destroyed because they had little value in the era before home video. It has often been claimed that around 75% of silent films have been lost, though these estimates may be inaccurate due to a lack of numerical data.[40] Major silent films presumed lost include Saved from the Titanic (1912), which featured survivors of the disaster;[41]The Life of General Villa, starring Pancho Villa himself; The Apostle, the first animated feature film (1917); Cleopatra (1917);[42]Gold Diggers (1923); Kiss Me Again (1925); Arirang (1926); Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1928);[43]The Great Gatsby (1926); and London After Midnight (1927). Though most lost silent films will never be recovered, some have been discovered in film archives or private collections. Discovered and preserved versions may be editions made for the home rental market of the 1920s and 1930s that are discovered in estate sales, etc.[44]
David Shepard
In 1978 in Dawson City, Yukon, a bulldozer uncovered buried reels of nitrate film during excavation of a landfill. Dawson City was once the end of the distribution line for many films. The retired titles were stored at the local library until 1929 when the flammable nitrate was used as landfill in a condemned swimming pool. Stored for 50 years under the permafrost of the Yukon, the films turned out to be extremely well preserved. Included were films by Pearl White, Harold Lloyd, Douglas Fairbanks, and Lon Chaney. These films are now housed at the Library of Congress.[45] The degradation of old film stock can be slowed through proper archiving, and films can be transferred to digital media for preservation. Silent film preservation has been a high priority among film historians.[46]
Kevin Brownlow and David Shephard at Academy’s 2010 Governor’s Dinner
Jump up^“Library Reports on America’s Endangered Silent-Film Heritage” (Press release). Library of Congress. December 4, 2013. ISSN0731-3527. Retrieved 2014-03-07. There is no single number for existing American silent-era feature films, as the surviving copies vary in format and completeness. There are 2,000 titles (14%) surviving as the complete domestic-release version in 35mm. Another 1,174 (11%) are complete, but not the original — they are either a foreign-release version in 35mm or in a 28 or 16mm small-gauge print with less than 35mm image quality. Another 562 titles (5%) are incomplete—missing either a portion of the film or an abridged version. The remaining 70% are believed to be completely lost.
^ Jump up to:abKobel, Peter and the Library of Congress. Silent Movies: The Birth of Film and the Triumph of Movie Culture. New York: Little, Brown and Company, 2007. Print.
Jump up^Director Gus Van Sant describes in his director commentary on Psycho: Collector’s Edition (1998) that he and his generation were likely turned off to silent film because of incorrect TV broadcast speeds.
Jump up^Current, Richard Nelson; Current, Marcia Ewing (May 1997). Loie Fuller: Goddess of Light. Northeastern Univ Press. ISBN1-55553-309-4.
Jump up^Bromberg, Serge and Eric Lang (directors) (2012). The Extraordinary Voyage (DVD). MKS/Steamboat Films.
Jump up^Duvall, Gilles; Wemaere, Severine (March 27, 2012). A Trip to the Moon in its Original 1902 Colors. Technicolor Foundation for Cinema Heritage and Flicker Alley. pp. 18–19.
Everson, William K. (1978). American Silent Film. New York: Oxford University Press. ISBN0-195-02348-X.
Kobel, Peter (2007). Silent Movies: The Birth of Film and the Triumph of Movie Culture. New York: Little, Brown. ISBN0-316-11791-9.
Usai, Paulo Cherchi (2000). Silent Cinema: An Introduction (2nd ed.). London: British Film Institute. ISBN0-851-70745-9.
The Late Hollywood Silent Film Melodrama Special Issue, Film International, Issue, 54, Volume 9, Number 6 (2011), Jeffrey Crouse (editor). Extensive analyses include those by: George Toles, “‘Cocoon of Fire: Awakening to Love in Murnau’s Sunrise“; Diane Stevenson, “Three Versions of Stella Dallas“; and Jonah Corne’s “Gods and Nobodies: Extras, the October Jubilee, and Von Sternberg’s The Last Command.” There are also featured film and book reviews pertaining to silent film.
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