#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.