A Trip to the Music Box Theatre with Georges Méliès

I never dreamed I’d have the opportunity to see these films, all of them around 110 years old, on a theater screen being presented by Méliès’ family. Last Saturday, The Music Box Theatre and Alliance Francais paid tribute to one of the great pioneers of silent film. Recently, Martin Scorsese honored the work and influence of Méliès through the film “Hugo,” but the sad truth is that the recognition Méliès now receives follows decades of being forgotten by the public. Although his work "A Trip to the Moon" remains one of the most iconic films of the silent era, it was pirated by American studios (Thomas Edison's studio being one of the most notable offenders), preventing Méliès from benefiting financially and enjoying the success he deserved. In the years since his death, however, film scholars and fans have come to appreciate and respect Méliès for all of his contributions to cinema, and his family is still proudly presenting his work around the world.

Beginning his film career in 1896, Méliès embarked on a journey to bring a world he knew intimately -- magic -- to film. He discovered early on that there were tricks films could provide that could not be duplicated on stage. Méliès became the first filmmaker to realize the advantage that stopping the camera or blocking off portions of the film could afford -- tricks that Buster Keaton, among others, would later use to their fullest potential.

A great example of Méliès’ pioneering work in the realm of special effects can be seen in 1902’s "The Man with the Rubber Head." In the film, Méliès inflates his 'rubber' head --bearing his own features -- using forced perspective and clever editing. Clocking in at only two-and-a-half minutes, the film is short in length but nothing short of impressive.

Méliès was also a pioneer in the realm of colored film. Although Technicolor would not be introduced for another 20 years, several of Méliès’ films featured brightly colored scenes created by workers painstakingly painting clothing, flames and backgrounds, one film cell at a time. A beautiful example of this effect is preserved in “The Merry Frolics of Satan” from 1906.


In recognition of his 150th birthday, Méliès’ great-granddaughter Marie-Hélène Lehérissey-Méliès and great-great-grandson Lawrence Lehérissey-Méliès have been touring with “The Man with the Rubber Head,” “The Witch” and 14 other films spanning Méliès’ career, and presenting them to audiences around the world with live narration and piano accompaniment. For the Chicago engagement, actress Barbara Robertson provided the narration in English. The narration and musical accompaniment approximate the experience that filmgoers would have experienced in the early days of film, and this particular experience was made even more special by the excited crowd, full theater and The Music Box’s starlit ceiling.

Didn’t get a chance to see the films at The Music Box? Approximate the experience with this playlist, featuring all of the films shown at the cine-concert, from the iconic “A Trip to the Moon” to the first ever product placement in a film in “Bluebeard.”

You can also read my past post on Méliès here.

An Affair in Intertitles

This post was originally published on the lonelybrand blog as part of an ongoing silent film series.

When you think of Chicago, chances are good that the musical and probably the film version of that musical spring to mind. What you might not know, though, is that both are actually based on a play that debuted in 1926, a play that inspired a silent film version the following year.

The characters Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly made their debut in the play “Chicago,” written by Maurine Dallas Watkins. Watkins was a writer for the Chicago Tribune in the early ‘20s and based the characters on two women who dominated the headlines, and whom she had covered for the paper, Beulah Annan and Belva Gaertner respectively. They were involved in unrelated cases, but both women were both charged with shooting and killing their lovers. Incredibly, they were both later acquitted of murder charges.

Beulah Annan and Belva Gaertner (negatives from the Chicago Daily News archives)

Watkins penned the play and it premiered on Broadway in late December 1926 and ran for 172 performances. Hollywood took note and Cecil B. DeMille quickly snapped up the rights (for $25,000 - the equivalent of $320,000 today) to produce a film adaptation and tapping the beautiful Phyllis Haver to play the lead role of Roxie Hart. Although Frank Urson is credited as director, DeMille actually directed most of the film.

Phyllis Haver as Roxie Hart 

The story follows Roxie Hart, a gold-digging jazz singer looking to make a name for herself who takes advantage of her husband’s devotion to her. After her lover ends their affair, she shoots him in a state of rage and is terrified that she’ll be tried and put to death. She lies to her husband, saying the man was attempting to rob and violate her, and although he suspects the truth, he agrees to take the blame for her. The fact that Roxie was the killer gets out and the papers are instantly fascinated with her, something that Roxie relishes. The game quickly becomes one of manipulation, presenting Roxie as something she’s not to sway the judge, jury, press and court audience. Although Roxie quite literally gets away with murder, she ends up without a husband, without a home and with nothing but the clothes on her back. Not even the public cares enough to notice her, because they’ve already moved on to the next murderous adulteress.

Previously, Phyllis Haver was with Marie Prevost and Gloria Swanson as one of Mack Sennett’s famous Bathing Beauties. Although the Beauties were famous for their looks, all three went on to prove their talent as true film stars, and Haver’s performance as Roxie remains one of her best. Roxie’s flirty, manipulative, limelight-craving nature endears and disgusts the audience at the same time, and Haver’s performance stands the test of time. When the film was released in late December 1927, Photoplay hailed her performance, saying, "[T]he picture belongs to Phyllis Haver, who gives a marvelous characterization. We agree with Mr. De Mille that she is his greatest ‘find’ since Gloria Swanson. Of course, nobody will miss seeing ‘Chicago.’”

 Roxie and Velma are separated during a cat fight in prison.

This adaptation, as well as the original play version of “Chicago,” later served as inspiration for the 1942 romantic comedy adaptation “Roxie Hart” (starring Ginger Rogers), the 1975 musical stage version and the 2002 film version of the musical. This is even more incredible considering the fact that, for years, the film was thought to be lost. The unstable nature of vintage nitrate films, the frequency of film vault fires and a lack of organized preservation for posterity have all played a part in the loss of many, many films from the silent and early talkie era. In fact, Martin Scorsese’s Film Foundation estimates that over 90% of the films made before 1929 have been lost forever. But, as copyrights expire, and time goes by, some “lost” films are being rediscovered and restored. Such is the case with “Chicago.” Incredibly, a perfect print of the film was discovered in DeMille’s archives, and in 2006, the UCLA Film and Television Archive restored and released the print. Interested in seeing more? Check out the entire film, courtesy of Fandor.

Chicago served as more than just the backdrop for Roxie Hart’s run-ins with the law. During the early days of silent film, it was the home of many major film studios, and even briefly served as Charlie Chaplin’s home. Learn more about Chicago’s silent film past.

“Plastigrams” – The 3-D Silent Film

Although the success of "Avatar" has, unfortunately, helped to introduce a flood of films banking on the lure of 3-D effects, 3-D films are nothing new. In fact, the earliest 3-D films were created during the silent film era. Early in the days of silent film, films were typically one to two reels long, limiting the total film length to about 10-20 minutes. Once studio heads realized that audiences would, in fact, be willing to sit through a feature-length film, they began to add more and more reels. But short films were never entirely discarded. Often a short film or two would accompany a feature-length film in a theater, or short films would be used as part of an evening's entertainment during a vaudeville show. The short film format also remained a great testing ground for the more experimental filmmakers and those interested in creating novelty films. One of these novelty films was also one of the first 3-D films, "Plastigrams."

Released in 1922 by Educational Pictures, "Plastigrams" was presented by E.W. Hammons using the Ives-Leventhal stereoscopic process. Much like the traditional "3-D" comics and postcards, the film used offset blue and red images to create its dimensional effect. Although this effect seems rather crude to us now, it was groundbreaking for audiences at the time. Upon viewing it for the first time, The Film Daily described the experience like this,

“The effect is, at first, startling and then amusing. The object of ‘Plastigrams’ is apparently to afford thrills for the audience. You look through the glasses and the objects on the screen appear to jump out at you. For instance, pictures of a crawling turtle, after being viewed for a moment, take the form of actuality and the turtle appears to be right up to your nose. Objects selected are, of course, of a nature to provide thrills such as, a hose pointed toward you, traffic jams in which you fear an impact at any moment, etc. A first rate novelty and wholly amusing.” 

When Lee DeForest began experimenting with recording sound on film, "Plastigrams" even became one of the first films to boast it during its re-release in 1924 -- three years before the debut of the talkie "The Jazz Singer." Even the marketing tactics used to advertise the film were inventive and ahead of their time. In one theater, an 11" x 14" lobby card was put on display. The card displayed images that used the same 3-D technique as the film, and a pair of 3-D glasses was suspended from the ceiling, allowing patrons to witness the effect first-hand before even purchasing a ticket.

The success and novelty of "Plastigrams" later helped usher in the 3-D film craze in the '50s and, indirectly, the present day obsession with 3-D. You can watch "Plastigrams" below. Keep in mind that the 3-D glasses of the period, however, featured blue lenses on the left and red lenses on the right - the reverse of the glasses today.

Laemmle Luck and Publicity Stunts

This post was originally published on the lonelybrand blog as part of an ongoing silent film series.

Although you may not know the name Carl Laemmle, you undoubtedly know the studio he helped create -- Universal Pictures. Laemmle came to the U.S. from Germany in 1884 and settled in Chicago where he worked as a bookkeeper for 20 years. As nickelodeons grew in popularity, he got involved in the world of film, creating International Motion Pictures (IMP) in 1909 and Universal Pictures in 1912. Universal Pictures is now the oldest movie company in the U.S., and the second oldest company still in production in the world (the first being Gaumont). Of course, Universal didn’t become successful by chance. The studio's success was due to a bit of Laemmle Luck, in the form of a combination of respected actors, great storylines and effective advertising.

Laemmle was a master of promotion. IMP was one of the first studios to credit and promote its stars by name, which helped make them household names. It also used those names, and the public’s adoration of them, to create effective publicity stunts and advertising campaigns to drum up more interest in the studios. One of the actresses most often used in these campaigns was Florence Lawrence, also known as the IMP girl.

Lawrence was one of the first true movie stars, so when a rumor surfaced that she had been involved in a horrific fatal accident with a street car, the public was distraught and heartbroken. Shortly after that, an ad began running in trade papers and newspapers that debunked the rumor, calling it a cowardly lie. It also mentioned that Lawrence would be appearing in a new IMP film very soon.

In truth, the rumor was created by Carl Laemmle himself as a publicity stunt.

Although Lawrence worked for several film companies during her career, whenever she returned to Laemmle, he made sure to take out ads for it in the trade papers. During one of her first returns, Laemmle took out a full page ad that was constructed as a letter from Lawrence to the theater owners that exhibited Universal films.

When she began to approach the end of her career, Laemmle staged Lawrence for a comeback, using a clever technique that involved purchasing multiple pages of advertising in the trade papers that alluded to a comeback, without giving away all of the information at once. The first ad ran in the January 1, 1916 issue of Moving Picture World, and acted as an effective lead-in to the ad that ran the following week.

Laemmle then adapted this technique for his next attempted comeback with fading child star Ethel Grandin. This time, he spread the advertisements out over three weeks, with the first appearing in the February 26, 1916 issue of Moving Picture World.

For more of these great vintage ads, check out my Pinterest board devoted to silent film ads.

"Safety Last!" and the Draw of the Human Fly

This post was originally published on the lonelybrand blog as part of an ongoing silent film series.

Chances are, even if you haven’t seen a single silent film, you’re still familiar with this image. It’s an iconic shot that has been recreated by the likes of Christopher Lloyd in "Back to the Future," Asa Butterfield in “Hugo” and Jackie Chan on several occasions, but the man who started it all, and is featured in the photo above, is silent film comedian Harold Lloyd.

You might remember that Lloyd went through several character transformations, including the Chaplin-esque Lonesome Luke, before settling on his ‘glasses’ persona -- the character that brought him silent film immortality. Although Lloyd was considered the everyman, unlike Chaplin and Buster Keaton, his character seemed to find his way into the most bizarre situations. The best examples of which can be found in his thrill comedies like “Safety Last!” -- the film that gave birth to the iconic image above. What’s interesting about the film is that it was born out of a marketing and publicity stunt.

In the 1910s and 1920s, department stores would often employ ‘human flies’ to bring publicity and attention to their businesses. Lloyd witnessed one of these stunts firsthand when he saw Bill Strother climbing the Brockman Building in Los Angeles as a stunt. Lloyd was fascinated and terrified, and hid behind a corner, occasionally peeking to check on Strother's progress. When Strother reached the roof, Lloyd went up and introduced himself. After seeing the event unfold before him, Lloyd got the idea to translate that stunt into a film and gave Strother a role as his best friend.

The climax of the film involves Lloyd hilariously and clumsily recreating the human fly stunt that he saw Strother perform. Of course, a number of obstacles get in his way, including a flock of pigeons and a relatively flimsy clockface. The climbing sequence itself represents a high point in silent film stunts and was such a hit with audiences that Laurel & Hardy, Buster Keaton and even Lloyd himself would recreate versions of it in later films. The fact that Lloyd wasn't working in front of a matte painting or a rear projection, and really was as far up the building as he appeared to be, thrilled and terrified audiences, and continues to do so today. The fact that Lloyd did this stunt after losing his right index finger and thumb during an accident on the set of an earlier film is even more astounding. You can watch the climbing sequence below.