Special Lectures on Notable Films (II)

W. Stephen Bush published a lecture on Pathé's The Birth of Christ (1909) in the same issue of Moving Picture World as he did La grande bretéche. Because the biblical story would have been extremely well known, this lecture did not need to supply the same type of information with respect to plot and motivation. Bush therefore offered an extended quotation from the first chapter of Luke for the first scene, and suggested using Christmas hymns to fill out portions of scenes III and V.

Bush, like other regular contributors to Moving Picture World, advertised his services regularly in the pages of the trade paper. This particular ad dates from the 15 January 1910 issue.

The Birth of Jesus.
Released by Pathe Freres December 24th.

Scene I.

When in the fullness of time God had decreed to redeem mankind, He chose as the instrument of salvation a spotless Virgin, Mary, dwelling in the little village of Nazareth in Galilee. There at eventide Mary returns from the fountain, where she has drawn water, and seeking the seclusion of her chamber, she bends her knees in prayer to the Lord, when presently there appears unto her a messenger from the throne of the Almighty and addresses her in these words of sweet and tender promise: “Hail thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women, though shalt conceive and bear a child, which shall be called Jesus. He shall be a King in Israel and of His Kingdom there shall be no end.” The archangel having delivered his message, Mary arose and exclaimed: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to Thy word.”

Scene II.

Bethlehem! A name of magic sound. The city is thronged with people and soldiers, for a decree has gone forth from Rome, then the mistress of the civilized world, that all the people of Palestine shall be counted and taxed. Mary and Joseph belonging to the tribe of David, have left their home in Nazareth and after passing through Galilee, and Samaria at last arrive in the city of their royal ancestor David. The journey has been long and hard as Mary feels that her hour is drawing nigh, Joseph looks about for a shelter in the night. He applies to one of the inns, but alas, every inn in Bethlehem is crowded and overflowing and they are turned away, when in their distress a little child comes to their rescue and directs them to a stable, now forever famous, just beyond the walls of Bethlehem.

Scene III.

Hallowed and gracious were the days the heralded the coming of our Lord. Signs and wonders were seen in many parts of the world and in the eastern sky, near Bethlehem, shone forth a wonderful star. (Here interrupt the lecture and render a suitable song, such as “While the Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night,” until the title for

Scene IV

appears on the screen, when you resume the lecture as follows:)

Close in the wake of the shepherds, now on their way to the stable, likewise following the star, came the magi, wise men from the East. They, too, in their far distant lands have seen this great, strange star, telling them of the birth of a new King of Israel. They are now on their way toward Jerusalem to ask Herod and his scribes and priests, where, according to ancient prophecy, the new King of Israel was most likely to be born. And they bear in their train many precious gifts to lay at the feet of the new king—gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Scene V.

Every door in Bethlehem is being barred against them, Joseph and Mary at last find refuge in this most humble of abodes, and here, in poverty, in a manger, even on a bundle of straw, there is born into the world the new King of Israel, Jesus Christ. (Sing here one verse from the hymn, “Come All Ye Faithful” and then resume lecture as follows:) And as you see the golden glitter of the star shines again above the crib, so likewise does the star shine again unto wise men from the East. They have been to Jerusalem and there they have learnt from Herod and his priests and scribes that the new King of Israel was most likely to be born in Bethlehem in Judaea, as foretold by the Prophet Micah. And the star has again appeared before them and they are now on their way to the stable. (Here end the lecture and bring the picture to a close with one or two more verses, sung or played, from the hymn, “Come All Ye Faithful.”)

Source: W. Stephen Bush, “Special Lectures on Notable Films,” Moving Picture World 8 January 1910, 19.
Image Source: Moving Picture World 15 January 1910, 60.

Special Lectures on Notable Films (I)

This is the first of two lecture texts that W. Stephen Bush published in Moving Picture World at the beginning of 1910 for films released in December of 1909 by Pathé Frères. As both texts contain performance indications ("Order appears on the screen"; "Here interrupt the lecture and render a suitable song"), the lectures were clearly intended to be read as the film was running.

Bush's text for his lecture to La grande bretèche (1909) is primarily descriptive: it supplies names of characters and specifies some background information that might not be evident to those who do not know the story. Bush also clarifies the plot situations by providing motivations for character actions and, toward the end, by adding dialogue.

La grande bretèche was a Film d'Art based on a short story by Balzac. This story was also the basis of D. W. Griffith's The Sealed Room, which had been released in September of the same year, and Vitagraph's Entombed Alive, which was released in October and starred Annette Kellerman.

La Grande Breteche
Pathe Film of Art. Released December 12th.

After darkening the house this brief and general explanation of the film may be offered with advantage:

La Grande Breteche is the name of a castle in the beautiful and historic French province, Vendome, and made famous by the celebrated French story-teller, Honore de Balzac. It is now nothing but a mass of ruins and weeds, but at the time in which the story is laid, it was noted for its wonderful flowers and gardens, a fact, which in the running of the film, will be observed by you with pleasure.

As soon as this preamble is finished and the moment the title is flashed on the screen, the following lecture may be found useful:

Scene I.—The first picture takes us back to the time of the great Napoleon. In the war which he had waged against Spain among the many captives was a noble prisoner, Count Ferredia. An adjutant from Napoleon’s military staff has come to Vendome and is now calling at the office of the sub-prefect, announcing the coming of the Spanish Count. The latter, a perfect type of the young Spanish grandee, enters and the adjutant hands the order concerning the prisoner of war to the assistant in charge of the office. (Order appears on the screen.) The assistant reads the order which commands him to exact his parole from the Spaniard and obeys by asking the latter for it. Slowly, proudly the parole is given, the prisoner is politely dismissed and leaves, while the adjutant continues his report to the assistant sub-prefect.

Scene II.—A scene in front of the splendid gardens of the Grand Breteche, where the people gather evenings to play and promenade. The Spanish Count is in the throng, and presently observes with unfeigned admiration a strikingly handsome woman promenading with her maid. She is the wife of the sub-prefect, accompanied by her maid. She has lost the fragrant white rose she carried and gallantly the Count picks the precious flower from the ground and with a graceful bow hands it to the wife, who regarding the prisoner with ill-conceived favor, bids him with her eyes rather than her words to keep the flower. The adjutant and the assistant pass at this moment and meet the sub-prefect himself, Count Merrett, the husband of the handsome woman. All this has been quickly observed by Ferredia, who asks the assistant for an introduction and is thereupon introduced both to the prefect and his wife.

Scene III.—In the gardens of La Grand Breteche the Spanish prisoner and Countess Merret are sowing the dragon seed of sin at many a secret meeting, guarded by the faithful Rosalie. It was well to have her on the watch, for she has time to give the lovers warning, the Spaniard disappears with the maid through a rare path in the shrubbery, not a moment too soon, for it is evident that beneath the husband’s formal politeness there lurks suspicion. He finds it strange to see the wife in the gathering darkness busy with needlework and when she, still hoping for another glimpse of her lover, hesitates to come in, he forces her with scant ceremony to come with him.

Scene IV.—Two masons from the village have been ordered to do some work about the castle and have come for further instructions as to where to begin. (Short pause.) Count de Merrett, more suspicious than ever of his wife’s fidelity, now seeks to test it. He pretends to go away on a journey and the Countess falls unsuspectingly into the trap. When the clumsy, stupid masons have at last been gotten rid of, the wife sends her maid with a message to Count Ferredia asking him to come to Grande Breteche at once. (Message appears on the screen.)

Scene V.—The message has been delivered, the maid signals to Ferredia hiding in the bushes and at the very moment appears in a different part well able to watch all the Count Merrett. The latter observes with bitter rage how the Spaniard is admitted into the house, cautiously walks over the lawn observed only by the clownish masons, who little realize what tragic part they will soon be called upon to play.

Scene VI.—The maid brings the happy lover into her mistress’ room, he fervently kisses her hand, but is uneasy at the presence of the maid, who, however, is presently dismissed from the room. Their cup of happiness seems full, she, gently restraining his ardor, takes his mantle and hat and hides it in the closet next to her room and then returns to her lover. He sees a small crucifix on her bosom and she, to show him her love, takes it from her neck and gives it to him. He in turn bethinks himself of an ancient crucifix of silver and ebony and offers it to her, but in the impatience of his affection lays it on the table to devote himself to his new found love.

Scene VII.—Faithful Rosalie is guarding her mistress’ door, an evil office and an useless one as the event will show.

Scene VIII.—The lovers have drunk their fill of the cup of sweet venom, the lover draws the trembling hands of his mistress from her glowing face, turns the key and still lingers.

Scene IX.—Rosalie still on guard is found and pushed aside by the enraged husband, now sure of his prey and trembling in his eagerness for revenge. (Short pause.)

Scene X.—The knocking at the door strikes terror into the guilty lovers—they start and tremble and in their confusion they retain enough presence of mind to hide the Count Ferredia in the closet.

Scene XI.—A moment later the furious husband bursts into the room. No one there but the wife. He turns here and there, the wife is pale but self-possessed, he starts for the closet, she bars the way, the husband is in doubt as to his next step, when his eyes fall upon the crucifix on the table. “Who is in the closet?” he cries. “Speak.” “No one.” “No one? Then swear to it now on this crucifix.” “I swear.” Scarcely have the words dropped from the woman’s faltering lips, when the husband summons the maid and orders her to bring the masons into the room at once. “I will show you,” he says to the wife, “how much I trust in your words.” The masons come and are ordered by the Count to wall up the closet and do it at once and in his presence.

Scene XII.—The ill-starred prisoner is in an agony of suspense—he only can fear and suspect, when the blows from the masons’ tools rouse his worst fears. Are they digging his grave in which he must die?

Scene XIII.—Still the husband watches the work with feverish attention, the maid announces a visitor. He keeps his eyes on the work—at last he rises. Hope for one brief moment flames up in the Countess’ breast—“Here, take this, money, gold, jewels and more later, break a pane in the door. Be quick about it. Quick.” One of the masons does as he is bidden and the Count peers out, the terror of death in his eyes—the sub-prefect returns, summons the masons back to their work.

Scene XIV.—And now the dim light of the closet has turned to darkness and in the darkness of death the prisoner gropes about, every moment making it clearer to him that he is to die within the narrow walls.

Scene XV.—The work of the masons is complete, they have gone. Never for a moment does the remorseless husband change his cold, formal politeness and bows to go.

Scene XVI.—Scarcely has he gone, when the wife seizes a pick to free the lover.

Scene XVII.—But the husband suspects this. He runs back, seizes the wife, crying out: “Madam is ill, she must to bed and it is my duty as her husband to stay right here with her.” Suiting the action to the word he has his slippers and his house cloak brought into the room and makes himself ready for a long stay. She rises on her couch begging the husband to believe her and go and he tells her he believes her and that’s why he stays.

Scene XVIII.—Count Ferredia realizes that his end has come and dies with a last look at the fatal crucifix.

Scene XIX.—The doctor, called to attend the wife, after a brief examination, pronounces her speedy dissolution very probable and, after a world of sympathy to the husband, leaves.

Scene XX.—In her dying moments, quite forgetful of the presence of the stern husband, with the precious token before her eyes, the wretched wife strives and struggles with a last effect to rise and gathering all her feeble strength together, seeks with faltering steps the wall of death and gently, with the last remnant of her life, strikes the cross of silver and ebony against the cruel stones—a glance at the husband, still unbending, and she falls over—dead.

Scene XXI.—And separated from her but by an inch or more of stone lies stark in death the partner of her guilt.

Source: W. Stephen Bush, “Special Lectures on Notable Films,” Moving Picture World 8 January 1910, 19.
Image Source: Film Index 4 December 1909, 11.

The Human Voice as a Factor in the Moving Picture Show [A Response to Bush]

Bush's article prompted the following response by James Clancy, who was involved in producing "talking pictures"—actors working behind the screen, providing the dialogue and sound effects for the scenes depicted. Clancy had an elaborate ideal of the scene playing behind the screen with the actors going through very much the same actions as those depicted onscreen:

As an example, take a woman in tears. She should go through the same action that she would if it were happening to her in real life, using the handkerchief and hands and all gestures that accompany it. Struggles should be gone through in the same manner. To make the effect more complete, the breaking of a glass or the shooting of a revolver or a gun, or slapping the hand on a table to bring out a convincing point in an argument should always be done by the person speaking the line.

With such a setting, we can see that such a performance would require a rather extensive investment of labor (and transportation), and these costs more than anything else probably caused the the practice to disappear once the novelty had diminished sufficiently that receipts no longer warranted the much higher expenses.

The writer of the article, [W. Stephen Bush] “The Human Voice as a Factor in Moving Pictures,” in the last issue of the Moving Picture World, brought out some useful facts, but leaves himself open to slight criticism, in regards to talking pictures produced by people behind the drop. He states in his article that the illusion cannot be made perfect. He is right to a certain extent, but if judgment is used in selecting the reels to be used as talking pictures, a great deal of difficulty can be overcome. Certain reels which are very good for a lecture (a point I will take up later in my article) will not be suitable for talking pictures. If details and effects are to be brought out in talking pictures, the actors and actresses must use judgment in regard to placing the voices of the character in speaking from the center of the drop. The line should be read directly behind the character that he or she is impersonating. This will apply either to the right or the left of the center. At all times, in talking from behind a drop, try to keep as near to where the character is standing as possible. All letters and titles, before scenes, should be taken out, so that the story will not be told before the actors and actresses have read their lines, as this will have a tendency to kill the dramatic climax. The operator must also be drilled carefully and thoroughly in regard to the running speed of films, of struggles, horses galloping, battles scenes, which must be run very fast, while scenes in offices and homes must be run at a certain speed to bring out the desired effect of the character, and to give the necessary illusion. But many will ask, How can this be brought, not alone by explanation, but by having everyone act the character thoroughly, as if he were appearing on the stage, without being hidden by the drop. As an example, take a woman in tears. She should go through the same action that she would if it were happening to her in real life, using the handkerchief and hands and all gestures that accompany it. Struggles should be gone through in the same manner. To make the effect more complete, the breaking of a glass or the shooting of a revolver or a gun, or slapping the hand on a table to bring out a convincing point in an argument should always be done by the person speaking the line. A great deal of thought and consideration must be given when selecting a company. I have found that people with stock or repertoire experience, that are bright and can think, usually make the best talking picture actors and actresses, as they study the script much quicker than the others, and sometimes they have lines which are much better than the ones which you provide for them. Still, I do not advocate or advise rehearsing the people too much, as they lose a certain amount of interest in the subject, and as well all know they are compelled to do anywhere from four to ten shows daily, it is a hard matter to keep them interested, and if they lose interest they lose the effect which you are after. Talking pictures can and will receive applause from the audience for speeches and climaxes, the same as a traveling theatrical company, providing the proper spirit is put in the work. Applause will also be given to characters when they are shown on the drop, like the late President Abraham Lincoln or General Grant, or any other will-known character. The only fault that I have found with this is that the actors do not impersonate the characters with the dignity and bearing called for. They all seem to think that they should shout to be heard through the drop, which is wrong, as we all know the voice will carry much better when spoken in an ordinary tone. The actors and actresses back of drop must watch every minute, so that they will not be talking when characters are not seen before their entrance or after exit. No doubt a great many will wonder what subjects are best adapted for talking pictures. This will depend a great deal upon the clientele to which you are playing. War pictures are always sure fire hits. Melodramatic ones are always very good, providing they are not too sensational. Plays like “East Lynne,” “Camille” and “The Two Orphans” can be made to stand out with proper attention to the minor details. It is advisable in plays of this nature to follow as near as possible the original script. Any subject of a historical nature must be one that your audience is familiar with, or else it will not be a success. Comedy reels are also good, providing that you can keep up swift action. The talking pictures are only in their infancy, and they will grow and get better, and the people are going to like them more every day, providing judgment is used in these suggestions. An audience will sit and listen to good grammar and proper pronunciation, and stories with some logic, but they will not stand for fake lines and people back of the drop talking about something that they do not understand. If the artists will put their heart and soul into their work they will make this part of the moving picture line as much a success for themselves as for their manager. In regard to lecturing upon reels, it will always be a success, providing it is handled in the proper manner and the lecturer uses judgment in his language. If he will use plain, ever-day English, and not words which he does not know the meaning of himself, and that the audience will not be compelled to have a dictionary beside them to find out what he is talking about, he will find that they will give him their undivided attention. If the lecturer will go right on with his lecture and not stop until he has finished he will find the applause of the audience will show him that they are satisfied with his efforts. As I stated early in this article, talking pictures are only in their infancy. The lecturer also is only in his infancy. I think the time is not far off when three and four-act dramatic productions will be produced in moving pictures by persons behind the drop. People themselves will get away from the idea that they are getting buncoed by five and ten-cent theaters, but are receiving more for their money than in any other branch of the amusement line. The recreation which they thereby receive will make them regular patrons of the moving picture theaters.

James Clancy, “The Human Voice as a Factor in the Moving Picture Show,” Moving Picture World 30 January 1909, 115.

The Human Voice As a Factor in the Moving Picture Show

Below is another article by W. Stephen Bush arguing for the value of the lecture. Here he takes specific aim at varieties of the "talking picture," by which he means both those that use mechanical synchronization with a phonograph as well as those that place live actors behind the screen to supply the dialogue. It is significant that Bush sees both methods of providing a "synchronized" voice as less than optimal, which also means that he must argue against the idea that film should ideally be simply a recording of reality. Yet he also ends up arguing against a cinema of illusion.

Notable is Bush's citation of a French critic's response to the the inaugural Film d'Art, L'assassinat du duc de Guise (1908), which famously had a special score composed for it by Camille Saint-Saëns. If we assume the critic attended a performance of the film that used Saint-Saëns' score, the critic's lukewarm response and insistence that the medium of film needed supplementation by the human voice tells us that music alone was, at least for some prominent cultural authorities, not yet deemed sufficient for full artistic expression of the film medium. For a thorough discussion of Saint-Saëns' score, see Martin Marks, Music and the Silent Film: Contexts and Case Studies, 1895-1924 (1997), 50-61.

Most of our knowledge and a good deal of our pleasure and entertainment is imported to us by eye and ear. All public amusements appeal to eye and ear alone. It is indeed impossible to move mankind through the drama, to instruct it with knowledge, without the aid of both these senses, and as a rule no entertainment or amusement is complete or truly pleasing without these channels to the soul combined. These are, of course, exceptions. It is possible to enjoy music without seeing the musicians (sometimes this is the only way of enjoying it), and a man may listen to the solemn and inspiring strains of an organ without looking to see whence the sound is coming. Likewise a good pantomime may be enjoyed without a sound of any kind. As a rule, however, the burden of absorption soon becomes too heavy and tiresome for the one sense alone: the eye demands to be satisfied as well as the ear, and the ear becomes eager to share its burden with the eye.

In some vague and wandering way this fact was felt from the very beginning of the moving picture, and numerous have been the attempts to supply sound, and especially the sound of the human voice. Our poor and patient English tongue has been subjected to cruel and unusual punishment in an effort to find names for both the inarticulate and the articulate sound in the moving picture show. At one time a craze for effects infected the electric theaters and instruments were devised to imitate common sounds. There was a little success and much failure, and there is to this day, and there always will be. Then came “cameraphones,” synchronizers” and “talking pictures,” produced by men and women hiding behind the screen and endeavoring to “make the pictures talk.” Not one of these devices has solved the problem: What is the proper function of the human voice in the moving picture show? The trouble in all cases was the inability to produce a perfect illusion. Illusion is pleasing only when it is without a flaw. The ventriloquist with his dummies upon his knee pleases and amuses the audience with his illusion, though of course everybody knows that the sounds and voices are produced by himself and that the dummies are nothing but painted pieces of wood and rags. As soon as the illusion is broken the thing becomes tiresome in the extreme. Even, however, where the illusion is perfect, a little of it goes a good ways. It is very much the same with all the vaunted devices, summed up in the fitting name of “talking pictures.” In the first place, the illusion is hardly ever perfect, and even where it is nearly perfect it cannot hold the attention long, for the whole business is unnatural, and nothing that is unnatural will ever last long, though persistent and reckless puffing may give some of these contrivances a fleeting vogue.

It may be that the voice best suited to the moving picture is the voice that runs with the picture, not with the individual figures in a silly attempt to imitate their very words, but the voice that runs with the story, that explains the figures and the plot and that brings out by its sound and its language the beauties that appear but darkly or not at all until the ear helps the eye. Take any dramatic or historic picture; in fact, almost any picture, barring magic and comic subjects. Stand among the audience and what do you observe? As the story progresses, and even at its very beginning, those gifted with a little imagination and the power of speech will begin to comment, to talk more or less excitedly and try to explain and tell their friends and neighbors. This current of mental electricity will run up an down, wild, irregular, uncontrollable. The gifted lecturer will gather up and harness this current of expressed thought. He has seen the picture before, and convincing his audience from the very start that he has the subject well in hand all these errant sparks will fly toward him, the buzz and idle comment will cease, and he finds himself without an effort the spokesman for the particular crowd of human beings that make up his audience. What all feel and but a few attempt to express even imperfectly, the lecturer, if he is worthy of the name, will tell with ease and grace in words that come to him as naturally as iron obeys the law which draws it to the magnet. All at once the human voice has found its proper mission; the darkened house and the dumb show cease to be a strain to the overworked eye, and as the ear shares the burden the amusement becomes doubly attractive and the period of exhaustion or disgust is deferred. No longer any need on the part of the audience to make loud guesses and supply the voice themselves; the entertainment is complete and the patron feels that he ha seen a different kind of moving picture.

This is felt and appreciated by the well-known Parisian art critic. Cellatier, who in a recent issue of the “Temps” speaks of the picture, “The Assassination of the Duke of Guise,” and who after praising the acting and staging of the piece goes on to say: “. . . But after I had sat there a while and looked at the pictures I felt a great longing to hear the human voice. If this sort of entertainment is ever to stop being a toy and is to become a permanent institution in the amusement world it needs the assistance in some shape or other of the human voice.”

Source: W. Stephen Bush, “The Human Voice as a Factor in the Moving Picture Show,” Moving Picture World 23 January 1909, 86.

Responses to Lee

Below are two letters and an editorial reply printed by Moving Picture World in response to Van C. Lee's The Value of a Lecture. The first letter sees the lecture as a preferable alternative to adding cheap vaudeville to the show. Note again the concern for declining attendance and for the difficulty in understanding the films.

The second letter also expresses concern that films are hard to follow and suggests, as a remedy, that filmmakers make more frequent use of intertitles. This is, of course, a solution that will eventually be adopted, but filmmakers and exhibitors were initially resistant because they saw it as a "waste" of film. The resistance also makes more sense once we recognize that most films of the time were a reel or less and that, as the editorial reply makes clear, film was rented by the foot rather than the title.

The editorial reply also notes that Kalem had already attempted the distribution of a lecture text with their film. The company would try again the following month, with the release of "The Scarlet Letter" (see “Trade Notes,” Moving Picture World 21 March 1908, 233). By 1909, Kalem would be publishing full lecture texts for one film a week in the trade press.

Dear Sir:— Permit me to say how pleased I was to read Mr. Lee’s article in your issue of February 8, on “The Value of a Lecture.” For some time I have been trying to convince the picture show managers here of the desirability, nay, necessity, of such an addition to their attractions. In most instances, while admitting the value in an artistic way of such a combination, they contend that while the public is willing to accept the pictures without the lectures, stories, dramas or poems, they (the managers) would be foolish to increase their expenses by the addition of the lecture. Yet the business here is beginning to languish. Various expedients are being tried to bolster it up, cheap vaudeville and drama, chiefly.

One reason, perhaps, for the non-use of the lecture or story is that all managers do not take your paper, in which they can find the story of the films, and supply houses do not send printed descriptions with the films; another reason is that qualified lecturers and readers are scarce. Lastly, because it is more or less of an innovation. But doubtless the first reason is the true one. The managers seem to think the public will not pay more than ten cents no matter what they put on and do not seem to realize that people grow weary of what they do not understand.

It is a pity that so many of the managers of the moving picture shows look at the business only from the commercial side and not from the artistic and educational. It is a business that can be made a tremendous force for good if rightly used, but if not it will soon run its course like other “fads” and become a thing of the past.
I am glad that you are putting things in the right light and hope that your efforts will meet the success they deserve.

Mr. B.R. Mitchell, of Augusta, called my attention to Mr. Lee’s article on the subject and I then showed it to several local managers.

Source: E. Esther Owen, Letter to the Editor, “The Value of a Lecture with the Show,” Moving Picture World 22 February 1908, 143.

Dear Sir:—I have been quite interested in reading your article in last issue of Moving Picture World wherein Van C. Lee suggests that the moving picture theater add a lecturer to the theater. Many a time I have watched a new film subject projected on the screen and though[t] to myself: If I only knew what this or that part of the picture meant, then I could get very much more enjoyment out of the entertainment. But how would it be possible for the theater manager to explain the film subjects unless the film manufacturer furnishes a printed description of each picture when they are sent out? I think that half of the time the theater manager himself does not understand the picture as it is projected on the canvas. If some film manufacturer would make every one of his film subjects explain themselves as they pass through the machine he would soon have all the business he could attend to. If instead of having a few words of explanation on his film about every 100 feet, as most of them do, they would have these explanations come in at ever 20 or 30 feet (or at every place on film wherein an explanation was necessary), then the theater manager would have no use for a lecturer.

W.M. Rhoads, Letter to the Editor, Moving Picture World 22 February 1908, 143.

The idea of a lecturette is a good one, but one that few proprietors will take the trouble to arrange. For instance, Kalem Company arranged a lecturette or resume of the story of Evangeline to go with that film; we understand that so few exhibitors applied for it that the company abandoned the idea of reprinting.

To issue titles every 100 feet would unnecessarily add to the cost of the film and is a little too much to ask renters to pay 12 cents a foot for title. We would blame the actors inasmuch as they did not render the story intelligently. A perfectly thought out plot, well put together, should tell its own story.

“Editorial Reply,” Moving Picture World 22 February 1908, 143.

The Value of a Lecture

In this article from early in 1908, Van C. Lee advocates for adding a lecturer to the program. Interestingly, his initial line of argument is that a lecturer "adds much to the realism of a moving picture." Evidently, this impression of realism rests on comprehensibility, as he immediately pivots after this statement, asking at the beginning of the next paragraph: “Of what interest is a picture at all if it is not understood?” He then makes the strong claim that few films are understood without the intervention of a lecturer to describe the action. For Lee at least, moving pictures evidently are not a universal language; the pictures do not, in fact, speak for themselves.

In the remainder of the article, there are hints that the nickelodeon craze is dying down and that many theaters are having difficulty drawing a sufficient number of patrons. Lee thinks films have lost much of their novelty and so it is no longer enough for films simply to show moving pictures; people now attend motion picture theaters for the content of the shows and audiences expect the film portion of the program to make sense. He is also seemingly dubious of fiction film, arguing that those subjects are generally better suited to the stage. "Let the picture theater, therefore, keep in its place; not show what is being shown every day on the stage." Lee seems to envision film as most suitable for a lyceum-type entertainment and, like many other writers at the time, Lee points to the practices of Lyman H. Howe, who combined lecturing with elaborate sound effects, as a model for exhibitors to emulate.

The following paragraph appeared in a recent issue of a theatrical magazine:

“Many moving picture theaters are adding a lecturer to their theater. The explanation of the pictures by an efficient talker adds much to their realism.”

It is indeed surprising that the managers are just awakening to the fact that a lecture adds much to the realism of a moving picture.

We might ask: “Of what interest is a picture at all if it is not understood?” And it may correctly be stated that the story of not more than one out of every fifty feature films is properly understood by the audience to whom it is shown unless it is adequately described.

In former articles, I have repeatedly urged, perhaps I should say suggested, that the managers of picture theaters demand of their renters a class of pictures which draw the crowds. The present-day subjects of drama, melodrama and tragedies, etc., are not a drawing card.

The demand of the public is now for the picture machine to bring to them its immense possibilities. Show to the patrons what they cannot see or realize in any other way except by attending these theaters.

Only a limited number can enjoy the advantage of having unlimited means with which to fully enjoy the pleasure of traveling, while unlimited is the vast majority who would like to see and realize what other parts of the world are like, if the opportunity was only theirs.

But it is theirs, and the picture machine is the instrument which makes it such, and which only a miraculous invention can ever put out of existence. Unlimited are the possibilities of this machine, and it can bring before the public what they cannot possibly see otherwise.

The majority will still go to the theater to see the stage enactments, but the stage cannot show what the picture machine is capable of producing.

Let the picture theater, therefore, keep in its place; not show what is being shown every day on the stage, but entertain its patrons with pictures which will hold their interest from the time they enter until they leave. But also, let them understand what they see; let them fully comprehend the meaning of every link of the film as it is being shown, and this can only be accomplished by the aid of a lecture.

Look, for instance, at Lyman H. Howe and other traveling moving picture exhibitors of note. Did you ever stop to think and wonder why it is that they can fill a large hall at high prices, right in cities and towns crowded with picture theaters, while these same theaters are almost begging for patrons at five cents admission?

There is only one answer. They show the kind of pictures people want to see, and those assembled are satisfied because they fully understand the subjects they are looking at.

Think of such subjects as “A Trip Through Switzerland,” “Daniel Boone,” or even “The Passion Play,” being thrown on the screen with not one word of explanation. Might just as well imagine that the public was invited to pay nickels to see merely an “invention” via a machine that can throw upon a sheet pictures which can actually move with life-like motion, as certainly the majority would not, any further than that, understand what they see.

Some time ago, in a theater in which I was employed, the subject of the pictures was “Napoleon Bonaparte.” Getting the printed description a few days in advance, I studied it out, changed it around to where I thought it would best suit the picture, and during the three nights it was shown described the life and history of Bonaparte as it was being portrayed upon the screen. And my lecture was quite lengthy, starting with an introduction preceding the exposure of the first scene and continuing throughout the length of the entire film.

On the second night, the management had invited the entire high school to attend in a body, free. The superintendent paid a visit to the management and he stated that the lecture, combined with the pictures, accomplished more by way of impressing upon the minds of his students the important phases in the life and history of Bonaparte than the best books on the subject in the library contained. The same may be said of a lecture combined with any moving picture.

Managers will do well to give it a trial. Note the difference in the interests shown by the audience. Watch, for example, some well-known peanut fiend, and notice how quick he forgets his peanuts as he watches the pictures with an interest never before shown.

[94] When managers will have awakened to the fact that they must first meet the demand of the people in the kind of pictures shown, and, secondly, interest their audiences by seeing to it that they fully understand what they see, they will have taken a decided step in advance, because the value of a lecture is incomparable and even though the speaker may not be a fluent talker, it is just as much of a necessity to show the pictures so that they are understood as it is to print a book for Americans to read in the English language.

Van C. Lee, “The Value of a Lecture,” Moving Picture World 8 February 1908, 93-94.

The Successful Exhibitor

If reports in the trade papers are any indication, the spring of 1908 was a tough season for the motion picture business. The initial craze of the nickelodeon was wearing off, more theaters were closing than opening, and exhibitors were looking for ways to retain if not increase their patronage. One issue was the lack of sufficient film titles—theaters on the same block often ended up with the same film on the bill. This situation forced exhibitors to look at their whole show in order to make it as attractive as possible.

In this editorial, Moving Picture World advocates in favor of adding sound effects, talking pictures (actors saying lines behind the screen), and a"lecturette" to the program.

Among the news of the week we gather that several shows throughout the country have been compelled to close on account of lack of patronage. In some cases competition is given as the reason, especially where the peculiarities of the service or bad management accounts for similar subjects being shown during one week in two theatres on the same block. Certain managers have complained that there is not sufficient variety in the film subjects or not enough snap in them to hold the interest of the people. We do not agree with this explanation and are still inclined to the belief that incompetent management, bad judgment in choice of location, or poor taste in the selection of subjects are the only reasons why any theatre should be compelled to close.

We have taken the time to visit many theatres in this and other cities so as to be able to form a just opinion of the situation, and, if possible, offer some suggestions to exhibitors. We find that public demand for this class of entertainment is on the increase, rather than on the wane, but the public will not continue paying its money to be fooled. The manager who puts on the best show will draw the crowd, of course; but, to hold their patronage, he must use his own brain as well. It is not enough to rent a few reels of film each week and leave his place in the hands of a ticket-taker, operator and usher and come around occasionally himself to carry away the receipts. He must plan and execute. The successful show manager is always on the lookout for new ideas and schemes that will attract and please the public. Many have taken up this business thinking that it is an automatic coin-getting project which does not require attention. Those are the ones that fail.

“Props” as a Feature

In several theatres we have noted that the intelligent use of “props” materially adds to the attraction of a poor film subject, while there are none, however good, that can not be made more attractive by the “man behind the screen.” It is only necessary to mention the large and appreciative audiences such men as Lyman H. Howe draws, to substantiate this. His success is largely due to his well trained assistants who render the dialogue behind the screen, but no less so to the fact that his large experience has taught him what kind of pictures the public cares to see.

Pictures that Talk

When the Park Theatre, in Brooklyn, was given over to motion pictures a few weeks ago, the management wisely decided on this added feature, and, to their credit, we must say that the effect is well carried out. It is a common remark among the audience that “it is as good as a real play.” The dialogue helps the less intelligent to fully understand the plot, for, no matter how skilfully worked out, there are always passages which require something more than mere pantomime to fully explain the situation.

Satisfy your patrons and they will come again. Make them feel that you are giving thme the best show you know how and that you hope to see them often. There is one theatre on a busy thoroughfare in this city where we frequently go just to see how poor a show can be put on. Here, of course, the proprietor depends upon transient trade which he gets by the aid of a leather-lunged barker and a phonograph which grinds out the same old song without intermission. The pictures are as unsteady as a defective machine can make them, and the rate at which the films are run makes the movements of the actors ridiculous. It is this kind of places that fail and, moreover, they do more than anything else to make the public lose interest in this class of entertainment.
This is an age of education. There are no doubt intelligent people among your audiences and they want to be educated as well as amused. The show which leaves the best impression, that will make the patron feel that his time has not been wated is the one which runs an educational subject at each show. Not all comedy—and, very rarely, tragedy.

This leads us to the feature of

The Illustrated Lecture

Lecturettes, or “travelogues” as they are sometimes called, given between the reels, are now a feature in many successful theatres. Keith’s theatres often announce them as headliners, and what Keith adopts is a safe rule for less experienced managers to follow. At Keith’s 14th Street theatre, the other evening, we were only able to get a box seat. Every other seat in the house was filled and standing room besides. The lecture subject was “China.” It was brief and to the point, well illustrated by some very interesting slides and received the applause of the audience. This, with two reels and a song (by a good singer) illustrated by the original slides of a good maker was a program well calculated to bring the same people back on another evening.
For nickel theatres, where the management cannot afford a two-reel show, the “travelogue” feature recommends itself. Sets of slides, with brief lectures, are no obtainable on rental and at very low rates. The services of a lecturer or reader may be beyond the means of some, but it is a poor ensemble if there is not some attache of the show that is qualified to intelligently read the lecture while the slides are shown. In college towns, it should be easy to get some student who is working his way through college, who would be glad of the opportunity to earn an honest dollar and at the same time exercise his elocutionary powers.

Managers and proprietors, you who complain of waning patronage, get wise to the situation. Adopt such simple methods as the above to make the public feel that taking their money is not your sole aim. Do not tell us that you have to close because the public is losing interest in motion picture shows, for we will not believe you.

Source: “Editorial: The Successful Exhibitor,” Moving Picture World 16 May 1908, 431.