#3: L'arrivée d'un train á La Ciotat (1895)

There are people who like trains, and then there are people who REALLY LIKE TRAINS. Most of them are toddlers and graffiti artists.* Once upon a time, in an overgrown public park, a drunk carrying a 40 in a paper bag offered to take me to the rail yard and teach me how to tag trains in exchange for piano lessons. Then, he proceeded to scrawl my name in Sharpie on a utility room door. I should have told him then, that "trainspotting" is more than a euphemism for shooting heroin. [I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried, folks.]

...and then there are "Railfans,"-- i.e. "obsessive train people." No, really. There are quite literally millions of train photos floating around in Railfan forums on the internet. Given a sunny day, free of obligation and worry, one might find a Railfan perching on a grassy knoll or concrete platform, camera in hand, waiting patiently for the 2:19. [Yes, yes that was a Tom Waits reference.] I blame the concept of "Manifest Destiny" and the Lumière Brothers.

Number 3 on the film list is L'arrivée d'un train á La Ciotat, or The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat. The Lumière Bros. used a single real-time shot to establish perspective, and the train seems to bear down on its audience. This gave rise to the urban legend that the audience jumped out of their seats and left the theater screaming at the film's premiere, because they believed that the train would jump off of the screen and barrel into them. It sounds like a whole lot of exaggeration to me, but it stands to reason that an audience unfamiliar with film as a medium would probably be a bit shocked by what they were seeing. The original film was silent, but I chose this version because the soundtrack is taken from Listz's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, which achieved almost instant fame when it debuted in 1851, and has become a staple in popular culture, ever since.

There are many references to L'arrivée... in modern film, including the recent Oscar-winner, Hugo. Imitation being the greatest form of flattery or somesuch, I couldn't resist posting this carefully recreated Playmobil homage. Props to the creator(s) for their attention to detail.

(Note: There is some terrible sound clipping in this video, so you would be wise to turn down the volume prior to pressing "play.")

*To be fair, trains are pretty awesome. I am particularly fond of old steam engines, the rhythmic quality of train noises, and "ghost whistles." That said, I have met only three bonafide Railfans, and two of them were incredibly creepy.

Now, go! Watch things!

#2: The Dickson Experimental Sound Film (1894)

The experimental sound film featured in this post was another collaboration between William Kennedy Laurie Dickson and Thomas Edison. It was a test for Edison's new "Kinetophone", the first device that added sound to moving images. The sound for this particular film was recorded live, but Edison never really bothered to synchronize sound with film when he started to market and sell the Kinetophone. It was ingenious, really. He just modified the cabinet, slapped a phonograph in there, and added a few tubes through which the viewer could listen to a variety of interchangeable wax cylinders. It was basically the 1890s version of adding 3D capability to HD televisions.

"All you have to do is buy these giant, clunky glasses and try to keep them on your kid's face while he's throwing up his dinner during How To Train Your Dragon. Seriously...it's AWESOME."

This picture pretty much says it all. I'd like to think that another genius entrepreneur designed comfy barstools to accompany each Kinetophone.

The film itself is brief but incredibly impressive for its time:

If you are curious, the song featured in this film is "Va, petit mousse" from Planquette's opera Les Cloches de Corneville. (You can listen via YouTube by clicking on the link above.) The lyrics are surprisingly appropriate, given that this film was an experiment. The song describes a "little foam" and its ship setting sail at the beginning of an adventure. There is an element of mystery and wonder about what the future holds. My favorite lines are these:

Peut-être qu'une reine
Te donnera sa main;
Peut-être une baleine
Te mangera demain...

Perhaps a queen
Will give you her hand;
Perhaps a whale
Will eat you tomorrow...

Also, despite pervasive homophobia in the 1890s, two men dance together in the film. My guess is that there were probably no women working behind scenes in Edison's lab. They used whomever was available at the time. The result is...awkward. Eye contact doesn't exist. No one is really sure who is leading whom. It left me with the impression that the dancers were being punished by their violin-wielding uncle -- you know, the creepy one -- for stealing his last two cigarettes.

The addition of sound was revolutionary, but it took several more decades of silent films for live recording to find a home in the film industry. ...and people probably still bitched about the sync. Now, if only Netflix could get their act together and fix the "Waldorf Salad" episode of Fawlty Towers.

#1: Blacksmith Scene, W.K.L. Dickson (1893)

Blacksmith Scene was one of the first shorts recorded by W.K.L. Dickson for the Thomas Edison Company. It's brief, but it's pretty amazing, considering the technology. I'm interested to find out more about the machines used to film (kinetograph) and view (kineteoscope) this short. I've read about them before, but I'll have to look everything up again. Here is the craziest thing, taken from a Google Books version of A Technological History of Motion Pictures and Television:
An Anthology from the Pages of the Journal of the Society of Motion Picture and Television Engineers (1979), by Raymond Fielding: Dickson was only nineteen when he wrote to Edison, seeking employment. Edison told him not to come, and he showed up anyway, with references. Hooray for youth and innovation! We could use a lot more of the latter, right now.

I chose this version of the Blacksmith Scene, because it lacks music:

Though another YouTube video includes the obligatory "old-timey" version of the Anvil Chorus, I'm not sure that watching it with a soundtrack lends to an authentic experience. It is definitely worth watching several versions, as some definitely have better picture quality than others. [Unfortunately, people like to complain about picture quality in any kind of visual media, without actually seeing the film/video game/photo for what it really is. It's like complaining about the quality of YouTube videos that are free to watch, whenever your greedy eyes and fingers get the urge. Okay, enough ranting.]

Take a look at the embedded video. There is clearly a guy standing in the shot, off to the left, and yet it took me three viewings to notice it. It's amazing that we take composition for granted, despite our current obsession with movies. Admittedly, it's much easier to see the shadowy figure in some of the restored versions.

Oh, and those quaint, hardworking blacksmiths are actors. This was the first commercial film for the kinetoscope. I was going to make a few comments about how drinking was once part and parcel of working life, but a quick trip to IMDb points out the fact that drinking in the workplace fell out of favor around the time that this short was filmed. The bottle of beer was included to invoke a sense of nostalgia. Mind. Blown.

All in all, this was a great first film. It forced me to hunt down a lot of other obscure and early movies, one of which involves dropping a cat onto a mattress to see if it lands on all four feet. Then again, I'm insane, and my research fervor is to be expected. I could go on forever, but I'll leave you to your own devices; go...watch things...NOW!

Letting Go/Picking Up

Happy New Year! This is a brief housekeeping post to assure myself (as I have no readers, as of yet) that I can start over again, with this blog. In the past, it lacked focus. I got too obsessed with design elements that just weren't working, so I wasn't very motivated to add content. Oh, and instantly streaming every episode of old tv series on Netflix doesn't help, either. (Seriously, that is how I spent most of my tv-time, in 2010.) I tried to focus on completing a list at a time, but it was probably a bad idea to start with Oscar winners and nominees for Best Picture. After a while, things got a bit formulaic. Though I did get to see some stellar flicks, I didn't get much of a break from the heavy-handed drama that tends to overshadow other genres in the winner's circle.

I really needed a break! I have learned a lot from previous mistakes, which led me back here. I really wanted to avoid discussing television on this blog, much as I love some of the series that grabbed my attention in 2010. I also really hate to be pigeon-holed into a single-genre blog, because I feel that I would be limiting myself and my overall enjoyment. ...aaaaannnnd, I'm insane. I decided that I would rededicate this blog to working through the FULL "Starting List" of films on They Shoot Pictures, Don't They? I'm not talking about the list of 1,000 best pictures. No, that would be too easy. I'm going for broke; I'm going to attack the entire 8,800-picture list, in chronological order*. Yep. Insane.

I can imagine that this might get a bit frustrating from time to time, but I'm in too deep to turn back, now. I will be tracking my progress through this blog, but I'll also be using Lists Of Bests to track my progess in a more concise way, too. I'm already setting aside Thursday evenings as official "Movie Nights." It will be great, if I can coerce friends to join in the madness. I'm certainly going to try. Keep your eyes open!

*Of course, I'll still watch movies that aren't on the official list, but I'll probably reserve my thoughts about random picks to no more than one post a week--and probably less than that.

...Action!

...and so it begins. This is the second of several new blogs that have been eating up my time over the last several days. Basically, I blame Netflix and Lists of Bests for corrupting my better judgement. Unsure of what to watch next, one day I casually stumbled upon definitive lists containing a) All of the Academy Award winners for Best Picture, b) The Criterion Collection, and c) They Shoot Films, Don't They (7900+ notable films, organized by decade).

Now, my love of lists is hardly a secret, but this is too much! I've started to tackle the Best Picture list--in addition to a lot of random picks, via instant streaming--but I have barely made a dent. Worse, my viewing habits have been leaning toward rampant consumption instead of careful consideration of each film. (Then again, some films don't deserve as much effort as others.) I intend this blog to be a space for personal reflections on everything I watch, rather than a venue for breaking news(gasp!)/gossip/promotion/formal reviews.* (..and yes, I'll be sure to add spoiler tags, when appropriate.)

*I will likely add my Netflix reviews widget in the near future.