2008 silent film festival line-up

photo courtesy of San Francisco Silent Film Festival

The Silent Film Festival has released the schedule for this year's orgy of silent film enjoyment:

FRIDAY, JULY 11 The Kid Brother (1927)

SATURDAY, JULY 12
Amazing Tales From
Film Preservation School
The Soul of Youth (1920)
Le Deux Timide (The Two Timid Souls) (1928)
Mikael (Michael) (1924)
The Man Who Laughs (1928)
The Unknown (1927)
SUNDAY, JULY 13
Die Abenteur Des Prinzen Achmed
(The Adventures of Prince Achmed) (1926)
The Silent Enemy (1930)
Her Wild Oat (1927)
Jujiro (Crossways) (1928)
The Patsy (1928)


All showings take place at the Castro Theatre here in San Francisco.

Any suggestions about which films to attend?

small screen, big ambitions

I'd read that in the early days of television, the new medium was explored by artists with a fresh approach. Experimentation was much more welcome than at the movie studios of that time.

Spurred on by my love of old time radio, I naturally turned to early episodes of Dragnet circa 1951-52 (created, like the radio version, by Jack Webb.)

Disorienting extreme close-ups, claustrophobic framing, dizzying high angles, deep focus photography and dark subject matter make it all so exciting! It truly lives up to the reputation established by the radio program.

to the vector....

The Long Voyage Home 1940

directed by John Ford

cinematography by Gregg Toland

What better way to highlight the deep focus photography than elongated angles pointing into the frame.

snow day seven

sir arne's treasure 1919

This was one of my favorite film discoveries this year. the entire movie was filmed in snow, so click on the title to see more white stuff in the stills on my original post.

rendering effeminate

there's a curious contrast that i've noticed with the katharine hepburn films i've been watching lately. i've just finished a study of wwII/ films noirs and couldn't help but notice that the strong female roles in the hepburn films dove-tailed nicely with the femmes fatales in the noirs. take pat and mike, filmed in 1952, the era of film noir.

look at the expression on spencer tracey's face as hepburn goodheartedly emasculates him in front of a crowd. not only does she single-handedly fend off his attackers but he has to reenact the embarassment for a second audience in the police station. the male fear of femmes fatales in so many films noirs is finally, horribly realized.

the female threat is handled differently than in films noirs. although this worst possible senario occurs, the fall-out is minimal. no one is punished for this role reversal and the man and woman live happily ever after. instead of the double-cross or death by gun fire, its marriage. through it all, he accepts her. it seems the threat is far more debilitating than the reality.

swarm

pat and mike 1952
directed by george cukor
cinematography by william daniels

it seems so much like a zombie movie, the way these golf fans trot after the big league players during the game. even more creepy is how, as the game nears the finish in a tie, the crowd becomes more agitated, intense and even start running close behind the caddies. the final swarm as the winner is declared is downright frightening. all this in a film about a ladies' golf match. it reminds me of the climax of day of the locust and certainly not what i'd expect from director george cukor.

i saw the reckless moment on the big screen

the reckless moment 1949

directed by max ophuls

cinematography by burnett guffey

sound engineer russell malmgren

what really captured me about this film was the sound. the scene featuring the corpse in the photo above is without dialog and without music- just the sound of the wind, and the waves lapping the shore, and eventually the motorboat.

i'm finding more and more how effective subdued sound (or its absense completely) is in creating mood in films and in music.

how i saw over 42.5 films in 26 hours

photo courtesy of San Francisco Silent Film Festival

the 2007 san francisco silent film festival lasted from july 13 until july 15 and yes, i did watch more than 42 films including feature lengths, shorts and fragments.

there is a wide variety in the programming, which allows for the screening of all kinds of silent film. my favorite treasures to see are fragments from otherwise lost films, such as the pieces from two clara bow films, red hair and three weekends (both 1928).

the program of early french shorts was quite shocking. early filmmakers weren't concerned about offending their public in the least- i counted two beheadings (one most disturbingly realistic), a couple of impalements and one short, reputedly of the follies-bergeres, with much female nudity. the presenter was just as theatrical. he burned a piece of safety stock film and then a piece of nitrate live on-stage. watching the nitrate burn made me think of the devasting fire of henri langlois' cinemateque.

a pleasant surprise was the valley of the giants (1927). a plot involving logging in the wilds of california seemed a guaranteed yawn, even if it was seemingly inspired by the big four. director charles j brabin and cinematographer ted mccord created a stunning film with gorgeous vistas complimented by a runaway train which crashed off the side of a cliff! yeah!

also:
the student prince in old heidelberg 1927
directed by ernst lubitsch
stunning, i love his silent work

camille 1921
directed by and starring alla nazimova
incredibly melodramatic yet it still made me cry

miss lulu bett 1921
directed by william c demille
fantastic acting and an ending that had the crowd cheering

p.s.
the half movie was the godless girl (1929). a demille 2-hour-plus epic about religion at the end of a very full weekend sealed its own fate.

p.p.s
leonard maltin- i was standing on the platform waiting for the trolley. next to me a noisy group was scrambling around for quarters. guess who! there are lots of famous people in sf but i never expect to see them on public transit.

i saw a cottage on dartmoor on the big screen

i have to share the most incredible cinematic experience i've ever had in a movie theatre.

photo courtesy of San Francisco Silent Film Festival

a cottage on dartmoor 1929
directed by anthony asquith
cinematography by stanley rodwell

it starts with a dramatic scene in which an escaped convict enters a lonely farmhouse. the woman, home alone, discovers him and screams- his name.

after that, the suspense hangs over the flashback that takes up most of the film. in no time, i noticed that my arm muscles hurt from clenching my fists, i was holding my breath, my pulse was racing and that sitting anywhere other than the utmost edge of my seat was way, way too far from the screen. and you know, everyone in the theatre row beside me was sitting the same way. i think at times the entire audience was holding its breath. no one was talking or fidgiting through this showing.

it was at times [often overlapping] hitchcockian in suspense, dziga-vertov-like in the editing, german-expressionist in the lighting and composition and film-noirish in the script. somehow, every element in film that creates the irresistible magic which steals my heart is combined in a cottage on dartmoor. it was a sublime hour and a half.

the musical score written and performed by stephen horne was a large portion of why the showing was so impressive. you may know from my earlier posts that i'm very discerning about musical accompaniment to silent films. now, mr horne has raised my standards much higher. it was a true soundtrack that deftly followed the on-screen action, subtly nuanced to increase the suspense and at times even completely silent. it was almost seamless- the only time my attention was drawn to the piano was to realize how it was heightening the tension, cranking it up to a delicious, almost unbearable level.

if i was independantly wealthy, i'd be following this film which is showing in film festivals around the world. somebody better put out a copy of this on dvd, and with the stephen horne score. i can't wait to get my hands on that!

read more here
and here

i rode public transit with leonard maltin

honestly, i did.
more about my experiences at the 2007 san francisco silent film festival to come.

"thither we came, and thence down in the moat...."

Kanal 1957

directed by andrzej wajda

cinematography by jerzy lipman

this was an interesting study in what film quality brings to my viewing experience. i've been watching a bunch of beautiful criterion releases lately. their high picture quality has spoiled me, to the extent of seeing Swing Time on the big screen and feeling disappointed about the scratches and jumps where the frames had deteriorated completely.

i'd already started watching the facets release of Kanal, loving how dark it was (visually and in the plot) when i found out there was a criterion version. i felt i had to abandon the first disc and finish watching the cleaner version; better to see the work of cinematographer jerzy lipman (who also filmed Knife in the Water.)

surprisingly, i much preferred the darker film i had cast aside. and its because while the criterion showed so clearly the horrors of travelling through the sewers, the facets showed what the characters had become- more ghosts then people, appearing and disappearing in unending darkness. it was a much more moving experience.

beautiful light flares.

the quote is credited to dante, spoken by the artist in response to the horrors of the sewers.

treasure in the snow

sir arne's treasure 1919

directed by mauritz stiller

camera by julius jaenzon

i sought out this film because of the set design, but watching the location shooting took my breath away. julius jaenzon, the cinematographer, was largely responsible for moving outside of the studio to capture the natural beauty of the land. he eventually went into teaching- one student was ingmar bergman's cinematographer, sven nykvist.

as in the chess player, the camera movement is remarkable. i have no idea how such smooth movement of the camera over the rough terrain is even possible. the naturalistic acting, the close matching of film speed plus this camera movement make this film feel contemporary.