Broncho Billy Silent Film Festival

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The 10th annual Broncho Billy Silent Film Festival is taking place at the Niles Essanay Silent Film Museum, Fremont, California, June 29-July 1. This year the festival celebrates 100 years of the Essanay Film Manufacturing Company. The web page for the festival still has information on the 2006 festival, but if you go to their Saturday Night Film Schedule a full list of titles and dates is given. See not only Broncho Billy Anderson, the early cinema’s favourite cowboy, but also Ben Turpin, Max Linder, Beverley Bayne, Francis X. Bushman, Rod LaRoque and Wallace Berry. There’s an evening of Broncho Billy films included, and among the musicians is the incomparable Phil Carli.

Pre-Cinema Project

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I just came across this section from the George Eastman House web site. GEH is one of the world’s leading media archives, and has a rich selection of images online, chiefly from its photography collections. My eye was caught by the Pre-Cinema Project, which presents a collection of magic lantern images, including photographs of lanterns, magic lantern slides, toy lantern slides, a Muybridge Zoopraxiscope disk, slip slides, and a lovely selection of slides relating to motion pictures – audience notices (such as the slide above), slides that were part of multimedia presentations, and film advertisements.

A Tour of the Cinema Museum with Ronald Grant


I’m a bit wary about adding YouTube clips to The Bioscope. My pernickety film archivist principles will prevent me from posting anything that’s been ripped off illegally from somewhere else, so I’ll try to stick to legitimately posted stuff which is of interest. So, let’s start with this wonderful tour of The Cinema Museum, the treasure trove of film memorabilia held in the former Lambeth workhouse where Chaplin’s mother was incarcerated. It isn’t open to the public alas, but this five-minute tour is a real treat, with programmes, music scores, posters, films, memorabilia, costumes, equipment, journals and stills, all crammed in so that there’s barely room to move.

American Memory

Among the very best resources on the web is the Library of Congress’ American Memory site. The purpose of American memory is to provide “free and open access through the Internet to written and spoken words, sound recordings, still and moving images, prints, maps, and sheet music that document the American experience”. Its Motion Pictures section is a marvellous example of this, offering users access to a wide range of predominantly early cinema subjects, all available for viewing and downloading, in MPEG, QuickTime and RealMedia formats.

Each collection is usefully contextualised and indexed, and there are impeccable cataloguing records. The collections with silent film material (both fiction and non-fiction, but chiefly the latter) are:

Needless to say, this is all non-copyright material, one of the consequences of which being that eBay is full of DVDs of early film materials which are simply repackaged downloads from this site.

Return to Croydon

In posts on 23 and 24 February I highlighted the story of Croydon Public Library’s unexpected role as an innovator in film archiving, before the First World War. I should have checked the literature, because the story has been uncovered before, by the film historian Stephen Bottomore, who wrote a chapter on early calls for film museums in the marvellous history of nitrate film, This Film is Dangerous: A Celebration of Nitrate Film (ed. Roger Smither, FIAF, 2002). Bottomore uncovered a reference in The Bioscope journal (26 May 1910, p. 3) to Croydon having established the film collection in 1910. The report I found dated from 1914, so this proto-regional film archive existed for four years at least. Originally the films were projected at the library should anyone need to see them, but later a viewing device was created by a local engineer. However, what is significant about the Croydon initiative is not just that it was such an early attempt to form a publicly-accessible film collection, but that it was argued for as a civic duty, fulfilling a local need, and seen alongside other media that were appropriate for a local authority to be funding as part of its library services.

Bottomore’s essay (‘”The sparkling surface of the sea of history” – Notes on the Origins of Film Preservation’) has a huge amount of information on the calls to preserve films and to create national film museums which arose almost as soon as films were invented.

Cinematograph Films: Their National Value and Preservation

We intend to have a series of posts on The Bioscope highlighting some key texts in our field which are being made freely available online, through transcription or digitisation. In particular we will be highlighting documents available from the Internet Archive. This is a superb source of downloadable documents, images, software, audio and video, as well as ‘archiving’ the Internet itself, to a degree, made accessible through its Wayback Machine.

Suitably following on from the recent posts we have had on the early history of film archives, the first text is Alex J. Philip, Cinematograph Films: Their National Value and Preservation (London: Stanley Paul & Co. 1912). This booklet is a call for the preservation of films as historical records. It argues the necessity of making visual records of our time for the benefit of future generations, not just of major historic events but of the arts, crafts and customs of the nation which one day must pass. After giving a short history of the development of the cinema, and in particular the Kinemacolor system devised by Charles Urban and G.A. Smith, Philip makes practical proposals for a National Cinematographic Library. He considers selection, preservation, film handling, classification, and cost (£20,000, “a mere bagatelle for a national institution”), and indicates that Urban had made a “munificent offer” to present his Kinemacolor films to the nation, were such a library to be created. There is something particularly tragic about this, given that the vast majority of Urban’s Kinemacolor films are now lost. Philip was a librarian, and his arguments are generally that looking after films will be little different to looking after books. There is no mention of the fire hazard presented by nitrate film. He also proposes matching motion picture records to sound recordings, with particular reference to a Voice Museum established at the Paris Opéra in 1907.

It is an idealistic document, well worth reading (it was originally published in the journal The Librarian). Philip makes mention of fiction films as a new phenomenon, but says he is not concerned with “the reproduction of enacted scenes”. It is curious, given the calls for the preservation of actuality films as historical records made at this time, that it was not until dramatic films came to be valued by the intelligensia that the first national film archives were seriously mooted, eventually appearing for the first time in the early 1930s.

The booklet is available in DjVu format (1.2MB), PDF (3.7MB) or plain text (29KB).

Beginnings

Carl Louis Gregory

The History of Film Archives is as interesting as the contents of each individual repository. The Library of Congress Motion Picture Division was driven by a fortuitous series of events which led to its development. By locating material originally meant to be copyright deposit records, the Library found itself in the possession of a good segment of film history from 1894-1912. Copyright clerk Howard Walls who is credited with this discovery of what has become known at the Library’s “Paper Print Collection” was put in touch with pioneering cinematographer Carl Louis Gregory (illustrated) in 1943, who had actually produced some of the paper prints he was asked to copy back to celluloid. At the time Gregory was motion picture engineer for the U.S. National Archives. Gregory had developed an optical printer for shrunken and damaged and he modified it in order to reprint this delicate material.

The National Archives Motion Picture Division began in the mid-1930s and was the first U.S. Government institution to have as part of its mandate, “the Preservation of Motion Picture Film”. Members of the Society of Motion Picture Engineers Preservation Committee met several times in order to assist the National Archives in developing standards for the handling and care of motion picture film. As a matter of fact, three of the pioneering members of the Archives Motion Picture Division (John G. Bradley, Herford T. Cowling and Carl Louis Gregory) were all members of this S.M.P.E Preservation Committee.

It helps remind us that many events have conspired for and against preservation of these historic images. The foresight of many pioneers have allowed us the opportunity to revisit our film heritage.

British Pathe – part one

British Movietone (see 26 February post) is one British newsreel now available in its entirety online, but the most important British newsreel collection – and one which goes back to the silent era – to be found on the web is British Pathe. Pathé newsreels ran in Britain from 1910 to 1970, while the company also produced cinemagazines like Eve’s Film Review and Pathé Pictorial, as well documentaries and other shorts. 3,500 hours of this collection was made available online in free low resolution download form four years ago, thanks to funding from the Lottery-based New Opportunities Fund.

The British Pathe site is therefore a superb resource for discovering silent non-fiction film, and in future posts I’ll be providing a guide to some of the treasures to be found. However, I’m going to start with the unexpected – fiction films. Pathé somehow picked up assorted pre-First World War films, some though not all made by its French parent company, and these got digitised alongside the newsreels and are available on the site. There is no index to these fiction films, so below is a list of some of the ones that I have been able to find, with descriptions and some attempts at identifying them, as few are given correct titles or dates:

(the first title given is that on the British Pathe database – enter this in the search box to find the film)

THE FATAL SNEEZE = comedy in which a man suffers from an increasingly violent sneeze. This is That Fatal Sneeze (GB Hepworth 1907).

THE RUNAWAY HORSE = comedy in which a runaway horse causes chaos. This is a famous comedy of its time, Le Cheval Emballé (FR Pathé 1907).

FLYPAPER COMEDY = This is a French comedy with Max Linder, in which Max has flypaper sticking to him which he then finds sticks to everything else.

THE FANTASTIC DIVER = early trick film in which a man dives into a river fully clothed then returns by reverse action in a swimsuit.

THE RUNAWAY GLOBE = Italian? comedy in which a giant globe intended for a restaurant runs away down a street and is chased by a group of people before being sucked up by the sun, only to be spat out again.

THE MAGIC SAC [sic] = French trick film in which an old man hits people with a sack and makes them disappear.

MYSTERIOUS WRESTLERS = French trick film where two wrestlers pull one another to bits. This is a brilliant George Méliès trick film, Nouvelle Luttes Extravagantes (FR Star-Film 1900).

ATTEMPTED NOBBLING OF THE DERBY FAVOURITE = section from a British racing drama, made by Cricks and Sharp in 1905.

THE POCKET BOXERS = trick film in which two men place two miniature boxers on a table and watch them fight.

ESCAPED PRISONER RETURNS HOME = guards wait while prisoner bids a tearful farewell to his sick wife. This must be a James Williamson film, perhaps The Deserter (GB 1904).

LETTER TO HER PARENTS = extract from a drama at which elderly parents are upset at a message they receive.

ASKING FATHER FOR DAUGHTER’S HAND = scenes from a film where a fiancée has to prove himself to the father.

HAVING FUN WITH POLICEMEN = British comedy in which two legs stick out of a hole in an ice-covered pond, placed there by boys to trick a policeman.

POINT DUTY = a policeman is run over by a car and put back together again. This is How to Stop a Motor Car (GB Hepworth 1902).

THE MOTOR SKATER = comedy where man buys a pair of motorised skates and causes chaos.

RUNAWAY CYCLIST = comedy where man buys a bicycle and causes chaos (as can be seen, this was a common theme for comedies of the period).

FIRE = mixture of actuality film of a fire brigade and a dramatised fire rescue. This is Fire! (GB Williamson 1901).

HAMLET = scene with Hamlet and his father’s ghost, using trick photography, from Sir Johnston Forbes-Robertson’s production of Hamlet, a feature-length film (GB Hepworth 1913).

THE DECOY LETTER = early, rudimentary Western, where a soldier lures away an innkeeper with a decoy letter and attempts to assault his wife.

THE VILLAGE FIRE = comedy fire brigade film. This is The Village Fire Brigade (GB Williamson 1907).

THE RUNAWAY CAR = French comedy in which three men try to ride a bicycle and then a car.

RESCUED BY ROVER = a dog finds a kidnapped baby. This is of course the famous Rescued by Rover (GB Hepworth 1905).

Anyone who recognises the descriptions where the film has not been identified, or has the time to take a look at the films and identify them, or finds other fiction films on the site, do let me know.

Passio

On 23 February the Adelaide Film Festival hosted the world premiere of Paolo Cherchi Usai’s film Passio. The film is a compilation of silent found footage from a century of visual culture, taken from archives around the world, put to a score by Arvo Pärt. Cherchi Usai, director of the Australian National Film and Sound Archive, says that the film must only be seen as a live experience in a theatre. To this end he has apparently destroyed all the masters and vowed never to release the film on video. According to the festival blurb, it is “a masterwork of the first order, a stunning and revelatory film of surprising emotional and narrative power, that explores the impending crisis of visual culture and its reflection in politics and society. Its unsettling images, drawn from a century of filmmaking, are woven into a tapestry of mysterious beauty and violence.”

The camera as historian

More on Louis Stanley Jast and the proto-film archive at Croydon Public Library (see yesterday’s post). I dug out a copy of The Camera as Historian, by H.D. Gower, L. Stanley Jast and W.W. Topley (London: Sampson Low, Marston and Co. Ltd., 1916) in the British Library. The book is predominantly about the use of photography as a civic and social record, but it makes some comments about cinematography which reinforce what Jast told The Bioscope in 1914. There is further detail on the system for viewing films without projection, designed by Thomas H. Windibank, manager of the London Electric Hall cinema in Croydon, with diagrams and photographs. The text is most concerned with practical matters of taking, storing and making accessible photographic collections, but it has some fascinating general arguments. It asserts that photography’s power to record actuality “implies a corresponding responsibility” i.e. that local authorities had a duty to form photographic collections, by which the authors mean cinematographic records as well. The opening quotation boldly asserts the importance of the image for the study of history:

The means whereby the past, particularly in its elation to human activities and their results, may be reconstructed and visualized, can be roughly grouped under the four headings of material objects, oral tradition, written record, and lastly, graphic record, whether pictorial or sculptural. It is no part of our purpose to belittle the value of any of the first-named tools of the historian or scientist; but it will probably be conceded that in many respects the last named has a value greatly outweighing the others. It is obvious, moreover, that the lure of the graphic as of all other record rests entirely upon its accuracy. Now, not only is absolute fidelity to the original beyond attainment in the case of the artist, but the work even of the most painstaking draughtsman is often coloured by his individuality to such an extent that the detailed characteristics of the original he is reproducing assume in his work aspects quite foreign to their real nature.

Then comes the insistence that local authorities should be collecting film:

Hitherto little or no attention appears to have been paid to the enormous value of preserving, in such a way as to ensure their availability for the public of the future, the splendid photographic records of our national life contained in the cinematographic films daily taken for exhibition at “moving picture” theatres. This subject will be treated in a later chapter; but its importance warrants a reference to it here. Here the municipality – or whatever be the local governing body – surely has some interest, nay, the authors would urge, has a clear duty.

Jast does appear to suggest in this next extract that the value of film is as a series of photographs (though he does note elsewhere the importance of seeing films either as still images or in motion), but he explains how easy it should be to start up such a collection:

We have left to the last reference to what is perhaps the most valuable source of photographic records, at all events among those illustrating past events. We refer to the kinematograph films taken for display at the many “Picture Palaces” which have sprung up in such profusion amongst us during the last few years. Many of the noteworthy local happenings (at all events in towns of any size) are recorded in this manner. A few days after exhibition their commercial value has sunk to nothing, and they represent to the picture showman merely so many feet of waste celluloid. The value of a film containing over 4000 technically excellent photographic transparencies would, in this form, be about 3d.! It has been found that requests, by a suitable body (e.g. a Public Library) for the gift of these records are usually met by a most courteous acquiescence; while if a strictly commercial view of the matter be taken, the cost of acquiring the records – by way of purchase – need be so slight as to be negligible in comparison with their real value … That this source of material has been hitherto almost unrecognized is unfortunate. It would be deplorable if, henceforward, through apathy or lack of foresight, any opportunity should be missed of securing such invaluable records.

Jast would have been pleased to know about the regional film archive movement in Britain, but dismayed to learn that it was not instituted until the 1970s. How much local film was lost in the interim? I will now try and find out what happened to the Croydon film collection.