07.22.07
Ballard Backyard Movie Party V: Soundies And Stuff (July 6, 2007)
Friday, July 6, 2007 was the Sprocket Society’s second backyard movie party of the season.
Because of the mid-summer lack of dark hours (and the presence of neighbors), we opted to dispense with the customary feature and go with a program of short films plus a 30 min. “featurette” — namely the absolutely brilliant film An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge. Only one problem: somehow I forgot to actually pack it with the other films after setting it aside. This was a real bummer, since it’s truly an amazing film. But lesson learned: always always always make a list and do a dummy check, no matter what. Twice.
Actually this was not the only glitch of the evening: the landlord’s yard workers had unexpectedly dispensed with the sheet we’ve been using for a screen, prompting a last-minute run to Fred Meyer for a new king-size. (Yes, “alabaster” works quite well, thanks.)
Still, we were able to have a full show. I substituted an extended excerpt from a 1957 CBS documentary about brainwashing (which I’d originally intended to play less of and perhaps overlap a little with Owl Creek). I also did what all good backyard movie programmers should do and brought a couple extra shorts, just in case. Et voila.
A mixed reel of seven different Soundies provided the backbone for the first two-thirds or so of the program. We’d show a soundie, then switch over the other projector for a cartoon or other short, and then back again.
As you can see from the film list below, the evening was positively chockablock with cinema entertainment. Yet, more than one person remarked on how quickly the nearly two hour program flew by. (Yeah, we wound up pushing the run-time anyway.)
SOUNDIES
Though originally a specific trade name, Soundies now collectively refer to short musical films produced by Minoco, RCM, and other companies mainly in the 1940s for use in coin-operated film jukeboxes, a fad in bars and nightclubs at the time until television came along. A direct precursor to the modern music video, a large number of these films were released and still survive, documenting the (mostly-white) musical culture of a generation.
More than 1800 of the Soundies mini-musicals were made, covering all genres of popular music, from classical to big-band swing, and from hillbilly novelties to patriotic songs. Some Soundie reels even included cheesecake segments — burlesque routines and even striptease acts — aimed at GIs on leave.
Because of the mirror optics used in the Soundie machines, the films were printed backwards — the image flipped left-to-right — so it would appear appear properly on the screen. This is why a number of this evening’s selections are reversed; they are original Soundie prints. Others are corrected copies of the originals.
Tonight’s seven musical selections were interspersed throughout the program.
More about Soundies and related films:
- “About Soundies”
- Wikipedia: Soundies
- “Soundies - A new form of Entertainment” by Nigel Bewley
- Soundies - A Musical History (PBS, March 2007)
- Book: Scott MacGillivray and Ted Okuda, The Soundies Book: A Revised and Expanded Guide (2007)
- Numerous streaming soundies at Archive.org
- Scopitone Blog
- ScopitoneArchive.com
FILM PROGRAM
Silent films shown tonight were accompanied by recorded musical selections, which are indicated in the notes below.
The Whistler and His Dog (1941, Minoco Productions, USA)
Guitarist Alvino Rey & His Orchestra, with Dick Morgan.
3 min. / B&W / sound
A gag instrumental featuring peppy whistling and men barking.
Alvino Rey was one of the first adopters of the electric guitar and the first successful pedal steel recording artist. As a result, he had an enormous impact on the sound of the time.
Born Alvin McBurney in 1908 in Oakland, CA, his family moved to Cleveland, Ohio, when he was ten. As a teenager he experimented with amplifying acoustic instruments, beginning with a banjo he received as a birthday present. His professional career as a banjoist began in 1927, and the following year he began playing electric guitar in Phil Spitalny’s Orchestra. He studied guitar with vaudeville performer Roy Smeck, and took on the name Alvino Rey to capitalize on the late-20s craze for Latin music.
In the late 1930s, Rey performed in the bands of Russ Morgan, Freddy Martin, and a six-year run with Horace Heidt and His Musical Knights. There he met Luise King (of the King Sisters), whom he married in 1937. In 1939, Rey, his wife, and a number of others left Heidt’s band to start their own. After a stint as the house band for Mutual Broadcasting, Rey and his orchestra started scoring hits and ventured out on their own.
In 1941 Rey’s group substituted for an ailing Dinah Shore at New York’s Paramount Theater, which led to more exposure, and soon they were one of the most popular acts in the country, garnering top ten hits and making appearances in a number of Hollywood films. In 1942 Rey reorganized his orchestra, bringing in a brass section. This film documents the earliest incarnation of that ensemble.
After 1950 Rey continued to lead smaller groups. His television debut came in 1957, on the Nate King Cole Show. In 1965 he reunited with the King Sisters as part of their King Family Show television program, which ran on ABC until 1969. Rey’s groups continued to make regular appearances at Disneyland and elsewhere into the 1980s.
In 1978, he was an inaugural inductee of the Steel Guitar Hall of Fame. After retiring to Salt Lake City, Rey took up the classical guitar. He and Luise kept active with his jazz quartet until they finally retired in 1994. Luise died in 1997. Rey died on February 24, 2004, in Draper, Utah.
According to my pal Scott Colburn, Alvino Rey is the grandfather of Win Butler of Arcade Fire. Scott happened to engineer Arcade Fire’s current album, Neon Bible.
Dudley Do-Right of the Mounties: “Snidely Mounted Police” (1962, Jay Ward Prod., USA)
Series credits info @ Big Cartoon Database
5 min. / color / sound
First aired August 11, 1962.
Yes, clothes really do make the man. Inspector Fenwick decides to throw a coming-out party for his daughter, Nell. Dudley thinks it is strange because Nell is a little too old for the party (she’s 37 1/2). The Inspector tells Dudley that this is really a trick for Snidely Whiplash, who won’t be able to resist attending. When Snidely arrives, he checks his black top hat and cape and they’re switched with a Bullwinkle hat (complete with antlers) and a brown coat. Without his black hat and cape, it is impossible for Snidely to be a villain: when he tries to collect mortgages, everyone laughs at him.
Back at Mountie headquarters, Dudley puts on the hat and cape and immediately becomes possessed by evil, ties up the Inspector, sets off a bundle of dynamite, and runs off to do dastardly deeds. Meanwhile, Snidely is depressed. One of his henchmen runs in to tell him of a new arch villain who is about to break his record for tying old ladies to train tracks. Snidely runs to Inspector Fenwick to demand that Dudley Do-Right apprehend the villain. But alas! Dudley is the villain! Snidely is recruited into the Mounties (”Stalwart, true, eyes of blue”) with the mission of capturing Evil Dudley. This he does in nothing flat. When Snidely dons his hat and cape (they’re his property after all), he becomes a villain again and all is right with the world.
Legend has it that Dudley Do-Right was based on a writer’s one-time neighbor, Dennis Dudley. The story goes that Dennis was a Canadian who never had much luck with the ladies, was a strict Christian, and who always did what he thought was right, thus Dudley Do-Right. But Alex Anderson, Jr. — who is Dudley’s creator of record — said in an interview that he “created Dudley Do-Right because I had seen Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald in the film Rose Marie. He plays a singing, stout-hearted Mountie and was such a dork and is so completely unbelievable [laughter]. I thought it was really bad casting.”
According to Don Markstein’s Toonopedia:
Dudley was first seen in in 1948, in [a Jay Ward-produced pilot show called] The Comic Strips of Television, where he was test-marketed along with Crusader Rabbit. His first actual use in a series, however, came in 1961, when Rocky & His Friends switched networks to NBC and changed its name to The Bullwinkle Show. It was one of the back-up features, along with such holdovers from the original series as Peabody’s Improbable History and Fractured Fairy Tales. It proved the most popular of the lot — and the only one to later get a show of its own. Its 39 four-and-a-half-minute episodes were rerun in 1969-70 as the lead feature of ABC’s The Dudley Do-Right Show.
Or at least, 38 of them were. One episode, “Stokey the Bear”, about a bear hypnotized into starting, rather than preventing, forest fires, was pulled from the series after one airing. The US Forestry Service objected to what it saw as degradation of its mascot, Smokey the Bear.
Related Links:
- Interview with Alex Anderson — by John Province, from Hogan’s Alley: The Online Magazine of the Cartoon Arts, vol. 2, no. 4. Anderson was a childhood friend of Jay Ward and was the creator of Bullwinkle, Rocky the Flying Squirrel and Dudley Do-Right. His uncle was no less than animation pioneer Paul Terry (of Terrytoons fame).
- Wikipedia: Jay Ward
- Toonopedia: Jay Ward Productions
Take Me Back to My Boots and Saddle (1941, USA)
Carson Robison and His Buckaroos, with Rudy Vallee & Pearl Pickens.
Directed by Will Jason.
3 min. / B&W / sound
A lovely song, featuring some serious cowboy whistling action.
Carson Jay Robison was one of the first country music stars, and is often known as “the granddaddy of the hillbillies.”
Born in 1890 in Oswego, Kansas, his father was a champion fiddler, while his mother was a singer and pianist. By the time he was 14 he was already playing guitar professionally, and by age 15 he’d begun playing in bands. In 1922, he became one of the first cowboy singers on radio when he began to appear on station WDAF, Kansas City. In his early career, Robison recorded with Frank Luther (as Bud and Joe Billings) and Vernon Dalhart, with whom he toured extensively between 1924 and 1928. Robison’s first solo recording was his song “The Little Green Valley,” cut in 1928 for the Okeh label. In 1931 he formed his own group The Pioneers, later renamed The Buckaroos (the group featured in this film), which toured and recorded for the next 25 years. They were the first country and western band to tour England.
According to historian Douglas Green, Robison was the first to popularize “Home on the Range”. As late as 1948, he had a chart entry with “Life Gits Tee-Jus, Don’t It?”, and the year before his death he recorded the novelty rock & roll number “Rockin’ and Rollin’ With Grandmaw.”
Robison died on March 24, 1957 in Pleasant Valley, New York.
Dudley Do-Right of the Mounties: “Snidely’s Vic Whiplash Gym” (1962, Jay Ward Prod. USA)
Series credits info @ Big Cartoon Database
5 min / color / sound
First aired September 2, 1962.
Despite feeling “fit as a fiddle, and ready for love,” Dudley loses an arm-wrestling contest to Nell. Inspector Fenwick is dismayed, and sends Dudley off to build himself up. Only one problem: the gym Dudley chooses is Vic Whiplash’s Gym. Naturally, the place is run by Snidely, who subjects Dudley to “building down” with diabolic “exercise machines” made of giant hammers, a punching machine, and other tormenting punishments.
Dudley emerges with a Certificate of Good Shape…but actually he’s in terrible shape, shrivelled and shaking and puny. When Nell arm-wrestles him this time, he’s thrown clear across the room. In shame, Dudley quits the Mounties to find a civilian job. But no one will hire “such a puny.” At last, a lumber baron not paying any attention hires him. As Dudley struggles to meet the 20 trees a day quota, in no time at all his muscles grow to Schwarzenggerian proportions. Yet he still thinks he’s puny. In the end, Nell tells him it’s all in his head and, repeating “I’m not puny! I’m not puny!” to himself, he trounces Snidely and gets his money back. But Nell still beats him in arm wrestling.
The Leo Diamond Harmonica Quartet (194?, USA)
3 min. / B&W / sound
A buncha dudes play harmonica on a New York roof top for a salaciously winking hussy (who looks an awful lot like a young Mitzi Gaynor).
Leo Diamond was the chief harmonica soloist recording in the “high-fidelity” LP era. Formerly a flute and piccolo player, he won a contest playing harmonica with Edwin Franko Goldman’s band in New York City’s Central Park. This led to eighteen years with Borrah Minevitch’s Harmonica Rascals, after which he formed his own trio, the Harmonaires. This led him to Hollywood, where he appeared in Coney Island, As Thousands Cheer, Seven Days Leave, and Sweet Rosie O’Grady. His harmonica soundtracks include Calamity Jane, The Eddie Cantor Story, Living it Up, and Miss Sadie Thompson.
Wabbit Twouble (1941, Warner Brothers, USA)
Directed by Robert Clampett. Animation by Sid Sutheland, plus Rod Scribner and Robert McKimson (uncredited). Voices by Arthur Q. Bryan and Mel Blanc.
8 min. / color / sound
Elmer Fudd expects to find “west and wewaxation” during his visit to Jellostone National Park, but he sets up camp in Bugs’ backyard, and the rabbit (and a neighboring bear) definitely don’t have leisure in mind. Mayhem and hilarity ensue. When Elmer finally leaves, in a fit of pique he chops up the Jellostone sign…right in front of a park ranger. Off he goes to jail, where “at wast” he can enjoy his “west and wewaxation”…only his cell-mates are Bugs and the bear.
This was the first Bugs cartoon directed by Clampett. The titles and credits are all in “Fudd-ese” (e.g. “Diwected by Wobert Cwampett”). For this cartoon Elmer was redesigned as a fat man (based on voice actor Arthur Q. Bryan’s own physique) in an attempt to make him funnier. “Fat Elmer” would only make four more appearances — The Wabbit Who Came to Supper (1942), The Wacky Wabbit (1942), Fresh Hare (1942) and Any Bonds Today? (1942) — before returning to the slimmer form by which he is better known.
Old Hank (1938, USA)
Freddie Fisher and The Schnickelfritz Band
3 min. / B&W / sound
Probably excerpted from the feature film “Gold Diggers in Paris” (1938), starring Rudy Vallee.
Originally hailing from Iowa and dubbed “The Colonel of Corn”, Freddie Fischer led this early novelty band to stardom, serving as inspiration for a whole genre of whacked-out comedic rag-timey jazz gussied up in hick duds that included the Hoosier Hot Shots and, of course, Spike Jones and His City Slickers.
The Schnickelfritz Band had its start in Winona, Minnesota in the fall of 1934 when they began playing at the Sugarloaf Tavern and broadcasting over the local radio station, KWNO. In 1937, they were discovered by Rudy Vallee’s agent. Vallee put the band on his network radio program as guest stars and they hit the big time. Decca signed the act for a number of successful records, and in 1938 they made their screen debut in Gold Diggers in Paris alongside Rudy Vallee. That year they were so hot, they got top billing over no less than Glenn Miller at the Paradise Restaurant in New York City.
In 1939, a number of band members left to form The Korn Kobblers. Fisher reorganized the Schnickelfritz band, and went on to open a club in Hollywood called The Radio Room, near the Brown Derby, where they played nightly billed as “America’s Most Unsophisticated Band”. They also went on to appear in the feature films The Sultan’s Daughter (1943) and Make Mine Laughs (1949).
After suffering a heart attack, Fisher left the music business and ultimately settled in Aspen, CO, in 1952. There he opened a “Fixit Shop” and became locally famous for haunting the town dump for hidden treasures, gold electroplating local tree leaves for sale to the burgeoning tourist crowd, and for his daily letters to the editors of the local papers. In later years, he occasionally performed in local clubs with his son King and participated in local jazz festivals. He died from a heart attack following his appearance at the Easterjazz Concert in 1967.
More info and videos at FreddieFisher.com.
Paris to Monte Carlo (1905, Star Films, FR)
(Original title: Le Raid Paris-Monte Carlo en Deux Heures)
Produced and Directed by Georges Melies
8 min. /B&W with hand-colored scenes / silent
Music: “Civilization” by Dick “Two Ton” Baker, “Fun in the Fundus” by Fred Lane.
From the Star Films catalog: “King Leopold of Belgium has come to Paris to renew his acquaintances among the dainty ‘Parisiennes’ who for some time past have known how to appreciate his great fondness for their society. He ardently desires to make a trip to Monte Carlo, the celebrated watering place and gambling resort in the principality of Monaco, but his time is so limited that he cannot give up the seventeen hours necessary for the trip by express from Paris to the Riviera. He chances to meet, wholly by accident, an automobile manufacturer who makes a proposition to accomplish the journey in two hours, and it is this surprisingly rapid journey which is portrayed by the cinematographe.”
A classic Gallic farce that includes none of the above exposition (although it may have been included in M&eacutue;liès’ customary live narration). While visiting Paris, King Leopold II of Belgium decides to make a speedy trip to the pleasures of Monte Carlo. While preparing to leave, the car accidentally backs over a gendarme, flattening him like a sheet. Bicycle pumps are used to re-inflate him. As the king and his driver careen across the French countryside, they cause all manner of mayhem. Upon finally arriving at festive Monte Carlo, the car flies through the air and crashes into a bandstand full of well-dressed socialites. The king emerges waving imperiously, oblivious to the outraged mob around him.
This film was originally commissioned by the Folies Bergère for use in a revue, written by Victor de Cottens, which ran for 300 performances. It was a satire of the real King Leopold II of Belgium, a famous boulevardier with a taste for Parisian dancers and fast cars, and a legendary reputation for accidents and reckless driving. The troupe of the Folies Bergère appear in the film, including cameos by the Swedish giant Antonich and English music hall star Little Tich (Harry Relph), a dwarf famous for his comic routines employing boots with 28-inch wooden slats attached to the soles. Little Tich previously appeared in a 1900 sound film produced by the Phono-Cinéma-Théâtre company.
The sub-rosa Belgian reference (and Leopold’s practically psychotic rule of the Belgian Congo colony) lends piquance to the opening musical selection, which includes the refrain “Bingo bango bongo / I don’t want to leave the Congo / No no no no no no….”
KP Serenade (1942, USA)
The Hoosier Hot Shots
3 min. / B&W / sound
Alas, not one of their old-style madcap numbers but a comparatively sedate WWII-era song poking fun at KP duty. The outdated vaudeville innuendo is still funny in unintentional ways.
The Hoosier Hot Shots were an American quartet of madcap musicians who entertained on stage, screen, radio, and records from the mid 1930s into the 1970s. The group initially consisted of players from the state of Indiana. From their beginnings on local Indiana radio in the early 1930s, the Hot Shots went on to a successful national radio career on the National Barn Dance at WLS in Chicago, Illinois and a successful and prolific recording career, before moving to Hollywood to become featured stars in many Western movie serials.
Clink! Clink! Another Drink! (1942, USA)
Spike Jones and His City Slickers, with Mel Blanc as The Singing Drunk.
3 min. / B&W / sound
An excellent and typically rousing number by Spike and the gang, one of nine Soundies the group made. If you watch closely, you can see a Soundie machine at one point during the film.
Lindley Armstrong “Spike” Jones was the undisputed king of the style of madcap novelty jazz comedy pioneered by Freddie Fisher. The band’s instrumentation included washboards, pots and pans, modified horns, and a table full of sound effects gear (incuding the occasional starter pistol). Their playing was full-speed-ahead, and tight as hell.
In addition to original hits like “Der Fuhrer’s Face”, Jones specialized in insane parodies of classical music and popular tunes, such as the sedately romantic “Cocktails for Two” which was transformed with gunshots, screaming, loud clanging bells, and spectacular vocal solo of manic gulps and mouth farts.
From 1937 to 1941, Jones was the percussionist for the John Scott Trotter Orchestra, which played on Bing Crosby’s first recording of “White Christmas.” In 1941, he formed his own band — the City Slickers — and after successful radio appearances secured a contract with RCA, recording with them until the mid-’50s. Spike Jones and the City Slickers had their own radio show (1945-49), appeared in nine Soundies and several feature films, and starred in variety TV shows on NBC and CBS (1954-61). In later years Jones toned down the act, even recording a straight-faced album of Christmas songs.
Jones died from emphysema in Beverly Hills, California on May 1, 1965, at the age of 54.
Synchromy (1971, National Film Board of Canada, CA)
Produced and directed by Norman McLaren
8 min. / color / sound
This remarkable film is the apotheosis of Norman McLaren’s many “animated sound” films, duplicating the soundtrack in multicolor in the image itself so that you literally see what you hear. Beginning with the simplicity of a single intermittent tone, the film gradually builds in complexity until it becomes a dizzying fugue.
Winner of more than eight international film awards.
Around 1950, Evelyn Lambart and I worked out a method of shooting sound track optically on film, without using a microphone or regular sound system, but with the use of an animation camera. We called it “animated sound,” because it was shot frame by frame, onto the soundtrack area at the edge of the picture.
For pitch control we used a set of 72 cards, each having stripes or striations, and each representing a semi-tone in a chromatic scale ofsix octaves. The more stripes the higher the tone, the fewer the strips, the deeper the tone.
Our first set of cards (with [which] the music for Neighbors [1952] was made) had soft-edge undulating stripes, corresponding roughly [with] sine-wave sound. A later set of cards had simple hard-square-wave sound. It is with the square-wave cards that I shot the music for Synchromy.
The volume was controlled by varying the width of the sound track. A moveable shutter controlled this width. If the shutter was almost closed, the extremely narrow band of striations would give a pianissimo note. If the shutter was wide open, the broad band of stripes would give fortissimo. All intermediate degrees of volume were possible by regulating the position of the shutter, which was calibrated in decibels.
In Synchromy the music was composed first, and filmed by the above method. It started with a single musical part, later to be joined by another, and finally a third (mid-pitch, treble and bass).
These three parts were shot on separate strips of film, which were recorded and finally mixed in the normal manner onto magnetic tape and thence to standard optical track for release prints.
To create the visuals, the three striated-card sound tracks were kept separate and in their striated form. By means of an optical printer they were moved over into the picture area of the film.
Since the shape of the sound track opposite a single frame of film is a long, narrow column, and since the visual frame is rectangular, it was possible to fit as many as eleven columns for sound tracks, side by side in the picture area.
At the very outset of the film, where there is just one musical part, only the central column carries the striations; but somewhat ater the same striations are moved into one or more of the other columns.
What is on the screen, be it in one or several columns, is strictly the striated images of the original sound shot with cards. Thus, there is exact parallelism between sound and image. When the second and third musical parts enter they are clearly visible as such.
While optically shifting the sound track into the picture area, we added colour by filtering a black-and-white master positive, and its dupe-negative. We opticalled one column at a time (the rest being masked off).
In columns with no striations, or with just white striations on a coloured ground only one pass was needed.
Where there were coloured striation on coloured ground, two passes were needed, one using clear-on-black master positive, the other using its matching black-on-clear negative.
Towards the end of the film, where all eleven columns were active, it we wished both ground and striations to be coloured, 22 passes were required.
Variety was given to the visuals by frequently changing the track positions from one column to another. In general, the colouring was changed at the beginning and end of the musical sentences or phrases for variety’s sake; although no “coulour-sound-theory” was relied upon, pianissimo passages were usually in muted hues, and fortissimo passages in highly saturated contrasting hues.
Apart from planning and executing the music, the only creative aspect of the film was the “choreographing” of the striations in the columns and deciding on the sequence and combinations of colours.
– Norman McLaren (1984)
Related Links:
- Watch the film
- NFB online catalog: Synchromy
- NFB Portrait: Norman McLaren
- Review of Norman McLaren: The Master’s Edition DVD box set
An Edison Album (1894-1899, Edison Film Company)
Various titles and directors (see list below)
9 min. / B&W / silent 
Music: Excerpts from Mass in C Minor (K. 427, “The Great Mass”) by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart as performed on period instruments by the Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists, John Eliot Gardner, cond. “Audamus te”, “Gratias”, “Domine”, and “Qui tollis”.
An anthology of 12 of the earliest films produced by the Edison Company, produced mainly for exhibition in their Kinetoscope “peep show” machines but also including titles that were intended for projection. It includes comedic skits, dance, actualities, the first trick film, the first sound film, and one of the first commercials.
Although a silent print (18 fps) projected at the faster standard sound speed (24 fps), all of the films appear to be in slow motion. The earliest Edison films were shot using extremely high frame rates, anywhere from 45 to 60 fps. This print was made from copies of the original films without adjusting the frame rate to modern standards. When combined with the Mozart accompaniment used this evening, the effect is actually quite beautiful.
Film Titles:
- Chinese Laundry (aka (Robetta and Doretto no. 2]) (1894) — Directed by William Kennedy Laurie Dickson. Cast: Robetta and Phil Doretto (Phil Lauter). Filmed in the Black Maria studio in New Jersey. From the Maguire & Baucus catalogue: “The pursuit of Hop Lee by an irate policeman.”
- Execution of Mary, Queen of Scots (1895) — Directed by Alfred Clark. Photographed by William Heise. Cast: Robert Thomae (as Mary, Queen of Scots). From the Maguire & Baucus catalogue: “Representing the beheading of Mary, Queen of Scots. A realistic reproduction of an historic scene.” Quite possibly the very first trick film, in which a live actor portraying the doomed Mary is swapped out (by stop-action) for a dummy that then gets its head chopped off with an axe. The effect is actually nearly seamless (pardon the expression) and still prompts gasps from modern audiences. One cannot help but wonder if perhaps this was the true inspiration for Georges Méliès, rather than the legendary jammed camera accidentally “changing” a common horse cart into a hearse.
- [Dickson Experimental Sound Film] (silent print) (1895) — The first attempt at synchronizing sound and film; a laboratory experiment never publicly released. To access streaming video of this film and read an extensive discussion about it, please see my earlier blog post.
- Irwin-Rice Kiss (aka The Kiss, The May Irwin Kiss, The Widow Jones) (1896) — Directed by William Kennedy Laurie Dickson. Cast: May Irwin (Beatrice Byke), John C. Rice (Billy Bilke). From Maguire & Baucus catalogue: “An osculatory performance by May Irwin and John Rice. The most popular subject ever shown.” A legendary film depicting a scene (a moment, really) from an exceptionally popular stage show of the day. The film was one of the first bona fide smash hits of cinema, so much so that it even saved the job of the male actor, whom the producers felt was too old to continue in the role. The Kiss caused a scandal due its “lascivious” content, causing it to be banned in a number of cities.
- Feeding the Doves (aka Feeding Pigeons) (1896) — Produced by James H. White, photographed by William Heise. A film imitating another by the Lumiere Brothers. From the Maguire & Baucus catalogue: “A farm yard picture, showing a young girl and her baby sister scattering grain to the doves and chickens. The fluttering birds and excited fowls give an abundance of action to the scene, which is one of the prettiest, clearest and most attractive ever taken.”
- A Morning Bath (1896) — Produced by James White, photographed by William Heise. A black woman bathing her baby, who’s clearly unhappy about the experience, causing mom to unsuccessfully stifle her laughter. From the Maguire & Baucus catalogue (summary edited to remove offensive words): “This scene presents a[n]… African mother in the act of giving her struggling [child] a bath in a tub of suds. This is a clear and distinct picture in which the contrast between the complexion of the bather and the white soapsuds is strongly marked. A very amusing and popular subject.”
- The Burning Stable (1896) — Produced by James White, photographed by William Heise. From the Maguire & Baucus catalogue: “Shows a barn actually in flames, from which four horses and a burning wagon are rescued by firemen and stable hands. The scene is exciting, full of action from beginning to end, and all its details are clearly and sharply defined. Thick volumes of smoke pouring from the doors and windows of the stable add greatly to the realistic effect.”
- The Black Diamond Express (1896) — Directed and photographed by James H. White and William Heise. Shot near Wysox, Pennsylvannia, on 1 December 1896, it was intended to compete against American Mutoscope’s The Empire State Express (1896). Rail workers hammering spikes have to run out of the way when the Express comes racing through. From the Maguire & Baucus catalogue supplement: “This scene presents the famous Lehigh Valley ‘flyer’ emerging from a wood in the distance and approaching the camera under full head of steam. A section gang in the foreground, engaged in repairing track, wave their hats to the engineer, who is leaning out of the cab window. The snowy linen which the porters wave from the platform of the dining car adds to the effect produced. The ‘Black Diamond’ is undoubtedly the handsomest and one of the fastest trains in America, and the subject is the only one in existence showing an express train making seventy miles an hour.”
- New York Street Scenes (1896-98) — Actually several early actuality films stitched together, primarily shots of the elevated train system.
- Fatima (aka Fatima’s Dance and Fatima’s Coochee-Coochee Dance (1896, censored version) — From The Phonoscope (1899): “This is the lady whose graceful interpretations of the poetry of motion has made this dance so popular of recent years.” Fatima was a widely-known performer at the time, part of a fad for “exotic dances” that followed the Chicago Columbian Exposition of 1893. Ironically, the film also became one of the first cases of cincema censorship because of Chicago. In 1907, by order of a Chicago censorship committee, a grid-like pattern was printed on the film to partially obscure parts of Fatima’s bust and hips. In fact, in the first 2 or 3 years of production, some 25 percent of the Edison Company’s films shot were “coochee coochee” dance numbers. But as Charles Musser has noted, “Significantly, few of these films were ever listed in Edison catalogues-and then only long after their production. This suggests that a body of Edison films were circulated more or less clandestinely.” [Charles Musser, Edison Motion Pictures, 1890-1900 An Annotated Filmography, (Smithsonian Institution Press, 1997), pp. 131-132.] Yet these films were extremely popular. An 1896 letter from an Edison distributer to an exhibitor said, “A man in Buffalo has one of these films and informs us that he frequently has forty or fifty men waiting in line to see it.” [Ray Phillips, Edison’s Kinetoscope and Its Films: A History to 1896, (Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1997), pp. 139-140.]
- A Wringing Good Joke (1899) — Photographed by Edwin S. Porter. A child pranks his snoozing father by hooking his tie into mom’s laundry wringer when she’s not looking. She cranks away until pop falls back and the entire wood laundry tub falls smack on his head.
- Dewar’s Scotch Whiskey (aka, Dewar’s: Its Scotch) (1897) — One of the very first commercials, albeit with no evident mention of the product, and a ridiculously racist one at that. It consists entirely of three men in vaguely “Scottish” kilts, regalia, and very fake beards dancing with ridiculous uproar. This film was originally projected on an outdoor billboard.
Related Links:
- Inventing Entertainment: The Motion Pictures and Sound Recordings of the Edison Companies (Library of Congress)
- Kino Video: Edison: The Invention of the Movies 4-DVD box set
Brainwashing, Part 1 (excerpt) (1957, CBS TV)
Hosted by Walter Cronkite
20 min. (approx.) / B&W / sound
From the long-running CBS documentary series, The Twentieth Century (1957-1966). This is episode 6 from season one, first airing on November 24, 1957.
Dr. Hermina Boll (sp?) recounts and re-enacts her experience as a political prisoner of the Soviet police state in Hungary. Following the short-lived Hungarian uprising in 1956, Dr. Boll was convicted in a sham trial with secret charges, secret evidence, and no lawyer (sound familiar?). She was then imprisoned for many years. During the initial period she was interrogated frequently, subjected to sleep deprivation and other torture tactics. Eventually, she was simply locked in solitary confinement, where she languished for several years fighting mind-numbing isolation and boredom.
Dr. Boll calmly describes her experiences on studio sets that give an impression of the various cells she was held in.
Not shown was a second segment featuring an interview with a former UPI bureau chief who was imprisoned by Communists and brainwashed into publicly confessing he was a spy.
Related Links:
- More about “The Twentieth Century” series (Museum of Broadcast Communications, Chicago)
- “The Twentieth Century” episode guide (IMDB)
- Wikipedia: Hungarian Revolution of 1956
Superman (aka The Mad Scientist) (1941, Paramount, USA)
Produced by Max Fleischer. Directed by Dave Fleischer. Animated by Steve Muffatti, Frank Endres.
11 min. / color / sound
Academy Award Nominee, Best Short Subject (Cartoon), 1942.
This is the first film in the legendary series of 17 animated Superman films from the Fleischer brothers.
In a brief prologue, we see how The Man Of Steel first came to Earth. After Krypton’s tragic destruction, he was found by the side of the road in rural Kansas and spent most of his childhood in an orphanage. An adult Clark Kent becomes a reporter for The Daily Planet.
Flash to the present. Perry White assigns Clark and Lois Lane to get information about a mad scientist who is threatening to destroy the city with a new super ray gun. But Lois wants to cover the story alone. Lois flies to the mad scientist’s lab and is captured by the renegade inventor. Watching helplessly, Lois witnesses the super ray gun destroying many of the city’s landmarks, including the Daily Planet building. Clark Kent changes into Superman, saves the Daily Planet building, and flies to the scientist mountaintop lab where he destroys the ray gun, saves Lois and brings the mad inventor to justice.
The first nine cartoons in the series were produced by Fleischer Studios. In 1942, Paramount called in considerable debt and ousted the Fleischer brothers, creating a shell company called Famous Studios, which produced the final eight shorts.
Max and Dave Fleischer were undeniably two of the most important and creative pioneers of animated film, producing innovative work and characters like Koko the Clown and Betty Boop, as well as the original Popeye and, of course, Superman cartoons. They also produced two feature films, Gulliver’s Travels (1939) and Mr. Bug Goes to Town (1941), the latter doomed to box office failure in part by its release just 3 days before the attack on Pearl Harbor.
Dream of a Rarebit Fiend (1906, Edison Film Co., USA)
Directed by Edwin S. Porter
7 min. / B&W / silent
Music: “I Like Stinky Cheese” by Dick “Two Ton” Baker, “Igra Cigana” by Boban Markovic Orkestar.
A live-action trick film based on the comic strip of the same name by Winsor McKay. A man binges on Welsh rarebit and beer, becoming thoroughly intoxicated. As he wends his way home, the world literally spins around him. But climbing into bed is no respite. He is bedeviled by tiny imps stabbing his head, then his shoes and clothes come to life and cavort about the room. Then the bed itself springs to life, taking to the air and flying at breakneck speed across the New York skyline. (The film’s skyline panorama is identical to that in The Twentieth Century Tramp, 1902.)
This was the Edison Company’s most popular film release in 1906, selling 192 copies that year.
Related Links:
Synchromy
Reprised by popular demand, with applause both times.
Betty in Blunderland (1934, USA, cartoon, b/w)
of a dystopian future in a surveillance state, and a man escaping from an underground city. Lucas’ famous but rarely-shown student film that helped launch his career and would later be the basis for his feature film, THX-1138. Showing this was only appropriate, since this night was the 30th anniversary of the release of Star Wars. (
A Trip to the Moon (orig. Le Voyage dans la Lune) (1902, FR)
Melies is at his peak in this riotous 1905 film. A pair of British dolts visit an old wizard to obtain magic “pills” (more like “bombs” really) that explode and create whatever the thrower wants. Naturally, the wizard is actually Satan himself, who pursues and, well, bedevils the hedonistic fools with an army of acrobatic imps. The more the dolts use the magic bombs, the worse things go. After destroying various vehicles, taverns and dining rooms, the Brits flee on a carriage…until the horse transforms into a demon and carries them all down a volcano, straight into Hell. Dancing legions of demons and imps hoist them overhead, roasting them on a giant gerbil-wheel spit as Satan waves with glee from his throne. Explosions, flame, and brimstone smoke obscure everything, and the film ends. Melies was commissioned to film a version of this to be part of a theatrical pantomime staged by the Châtelet. The show, based on an 1839 chestnut called The Devil’s Pills, included the “demon horse” sequence as film — the rest was staged live. After that production closed, Melies expanded the film, shot new sequences, and put it into general release through his Star Films company.
