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.

Quiz bank available

I have compiled a Quiz Bank that has been posted, as a Word file, on the "Classroom Resources" page of the HtM website: Classroom Resources. The file contains two versions each for six quizzes and one version of a seventh quiz geared to successive chapters in Hearing the Movies. Students during a summer-session course in 2009 were expected to memorize the glossary entries for selected terms for each quiz.

Study guides for each quiz list the terms taken from the Glossary and supply a small number of additional questions to answer or statements to explain. The guides are in the file Quiz_guides.doc.

Early film in the classroom (HtM, ch. 10)

I have been very pleased with students' responses to early film repertoires over the past two or three years. For some time prior to that, students had seemed increasingly disinterested in almost any films released earlier than their own generation and it was often a challenge to teach those sections of the course. It is true that the available DVD materials have improved considerably and undoubtedly have made the experience better.

In connection with HtM, ch. 10, I show Princess Nicotine (1905), a short, humorous special-effects film included in the first NFPF Treasures set: go to NFPF site. Martin Marks provides a historically sensitive piano accompaniment that "plays the picture." I also use the film to demonstrate at least a minute or two of indifferent performance of the kind that readers of this blog will know was a common source of complaint after 1910. (I literally play the piano with my back to the screen and make no attempt to synchronize rhythms or mood -- students typically find it quite disconcerting.)

I also use The Wizard of Oz (1910) from Treasures II. Students know the story so well (in its MGM version) that the film keeps their interest for its entire one-reel duration and gives them a good example of early narrative film and relationships to small-scale theatrical practices.

Chapter 2, musical qualities of the sound track, and Tilsit

The basic pedagogical strategy of HtM, ch. 2, is to promote a sense of the musicality of the sound track by introducing musical terms that can also be used to describe speech, sound effects, or the sound track as a whole. I have found that students absorb the comparisons well, especially with examples. I use the voice rather than music for this purpose, in part because non-music students usually find it intimidating to try to analyze aural musical examples. With my voice alone, I can easily demonstrate frequency, loudness, tempo, and other qualities -- even texture when I enlist the students' help.

Attempting analysis of the sound track on these terms can be a challenge, nevertheless, because of the number of terms and concepts introduced in the chapter. For this reason, I have distilled the terms down to four sets in what I call the TiLSiT model (for Time, Loudness, Sound qualities, and Texture):

time -- speed and temporal articulation (tempo/rhythm/meter)

loudness (volume)

sound qualities (timbre, pitch, orchestration)

texture (density, liveliness)

With this list in hand (literally), students can learn to analyze sound tracks for their musical qualities efficiently.

(TiLSIT as an acronym, on the other hand, turned out to be a bust. No one in two semesters has known the reference to the Prussian city (famous for a treaty signing during the Napoleonic wars) or to the cheese from the same region, and I was unable to get hold of any of the cheese to use as a tasty prop, either -- apparently it doesn't travel well and so is rarely sold in the US.)

Thematic association and Casablanca

As the final, summarizing example for style topics (HtM, Ch. 8), specifically for theme, leitmotive, and thematic association, I used these four sequences from Casablanca: Rick and Ilsa meet again -- DVD ch. 13; after hours (first night) -- DVD ch. 15; after hours (second night) -- DVD ch. 29; and the ending -- DVD ch. 34. The first three all make use of the signature stinger chord (in fact, these are the only three places it occurs in the film), and the second and third have some close relationships of other musical material (to the point that the third can virtually be considered a "variation" of the second). Students have no difficulty with the leitmotive (the opening of the chorus for "As Time Goes By"), given the way it is first introduced (in ch. 13), and the treatments of the theme in the four sequences offer opportunity for discussion of reinterpreted contexts.

Obviously, many other examples might work as well, but this was relatively compact (useful for a compressed summer semester course) yet gave a good sense of musical strategies in the film as a whole.

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.

When Effects Are Unnecessary Noises

This 1911 article by W. Stephen Bush argues for a much more limited use of effects. In fact, Bush's suggestions, especially that effects be used only if they "have a psychological bearing on the situation," is quite similar to recommendations that he and other writers were making for music at the time.

Originally based in Philadelphia, Bush broke into the business as a lecturer and wrote frequently for Moving Picture World especially on the topics of lecturing, music and ways to improve the cultural standing of the entertainment. He has strong ideas about the aesthetic possibilities of cinema, and I have always found him to be one of the most insightful writers of the period. Besides the many essays he contributed to the paper, he wrote many reviews and later became a contributing editor. He left at the end of 1916 to become the founding editor of Exhibitor's Trade Review.

As a friend of the moving picture and jealous of its reputation with the public, I confess I stand in fear of the average "effects man." Zeal is a most admirable quality, but in the case of the man behind the screen it needs to be tempered with judgment and discretion. As a matter of fact, such tempering of enthusiasm with common sense is rare in the extreme. While the general opinion among intelligent exhibitors holds that the effects were made for the picture, the worker behind the screen believes, that the picture was made for the effects. His desire is, above all things, to be heard, to make as much noise as possible. If the picture shows a man in the throes of death on his bed, he rises to the occasion by making the bed creak. If by any chance, a horse appears on the screen he feels in duty bound to make us believe that a troop of cavalry is riding at full gallop over a hundred blocks of macadamized pavement. At the sight of water, no matter how quiet, he at once lets go of the Niagara Falls effect.

Now effects to help the picture must be few, simple and well rehearsed for each separate and particular picture. The idea, that a set of mechanical contrivances for the production of a limited number of sounds, can be made to fit most pictures or even a small percentage of them, is utterly absurd. The moment an effect is repeated too often, it becomes monotonous, then tires one and at last is ridiculous. Each picture must be studied by itself and only such effects introduced as have a psychological bearing on the situation as depicted on the screen. The imitation of common and obvious sounds has long ago been abandoned by nine out of every ten exhibitors, who, quite wisely will rather dispense with effects altogether than risk monotonous or misplaced or ill-judged effects.

Nevertheless, it is an undoubted fact, that the introduction of suitable effects will at times help a picture immensely. There are scores of pictures that without effects are dull, insipid and meaningless and with effects, thrill, delight and please an audience. Powerful effects may be introduced with equal success in comic or dramatic pictures, even in scenic and educational subjects. At all times, effects must be original, novel, simple, quickly understood and appreciated by the audience. The proper moment for introducing them must be judged from picture to picture and no set of stereotyped rules can be laid down. The dramatic instinct, which resides in the heart of every man and woman, must be the guide and determining factor.

When once a good opportunity for a powerful effect has been discovered, the effect must be carefully rehearsed. A trained monkey can “work” the machine-made effects, but it takes a man with some intelligence to secure correctness and accuracy in original and special effects.

A few examples may help to make my meaning clearer. Let us assume, that we are dealing with a scene immediately preceding a dramatic climax. The climax depends on the coming of a certain hour. Anxiety and suspense are the dominant emotions of the central figure in the scene. At such a moment the slow and measured ticking of a clock may send a thrill or a shudder through the blood of the spectator. It is a very simple thing, an apparent trifle and yet its effect may be overpowering. The sound of musical instruments, played with a special meaning, connected with the action on the screen, may always be imitated with great advantage.

On occasions the fall of a human body or a heavy object may be indicated by proper effects back of the screen, but not every such fall is to be thus marked. Discrimination should be the saving grace of the man with the effects and if he lacks discrimination, as he often does, he should be held strictly subject to orders and given no latitude whatever. Obvious effects, such as shooting, thunder, rain, etc., are, except on rare occasions, to be omitted. The public is tired of them.

Greater license may be given to effects in comic reels, but the vulgarity, which is especially in vogue in New York, should be carefully avoided.

I conclude with a notable contrast between a proper and improper effect and select as an example two scenes from the Milano production of Dante’s Inferno. No scene in that remarkable film is more impressive than the meeting of Cerberus, the three-throated monster by the poets, Dante and Virgil. “Not a limb of him, but trembled,” say Dante in his masterfully descriptive way. Now, to make this mysterious monster bark like a dog in a backyard is laughable and betrays a deplorable lack of the sense of the fitting. The moment the “effects man” converts the fear-inspiring creation of Dante into a common bow-wow, every illusion is destroyed and the thin line, dividing the sublime from the ridiculous is crossed amidst the justly derisive laughter of the audience. Contrast this with an effect in the scene, where the poets enter the circle of the giants, the first of whom is Nimrod, the mighty hunter. In the poem, the sound of a horn is described, as the poets near the circle. If such an effect is introduced, if a horn is sounded, just before the title, introducing the giants is ended, the effect is suitable and impressive, as in the next moment the huge body of Nimrod with a hunting horn around his waist, becomes visible.

There is but one general rule that may be followed with uniform advantage in the matter of effects.

To paraphrase the immortal bard: “Discrimination is the best part of strenuousness.”

Source: W. Stephen Bush, “When ‘Effects’ Are Unnecessary Noises,” Moving Picture World 9 September 1911, 690.