Luke McKernan (NFTVA-London)
The centenary celebrations of cinema have meant that more attention has been focused on the first films ever made than is usually the case, but getting such films on a public screen and persuading people that there was more to film in the 1890s than trains arriving can be a difficult business. In February and March 1996, to coincide with the British centenary celebrations, the National Film and Television Archive in London took a particularly demanding course of action. During those two months, in eight 90 minute programmes at the BFI's National Film Theatre, the NFTVA screened over 700 film titles from the earliest period of cinema, a Herculean task not likely to be repeated in a long time.
Plans for the season began over a year in advance, when three successful 'Pre-1900 Cinema' programmes in December 1994 showed that there was an audience for long programmes of these earliest of films. A particular style of presentation was adopted, where there was no musical accompaniment but instead a lecturer gave an informal guide to the films and invited comment from the audience throughout. Once the audience caught on to the idea it proved to be a successful formula, though one requiring much preparation and rehearsal. It was decided to expand these shows of films made before 1900 into eight programmes of films from the Victorian era; that is, films made up until the death of Queen Victoria in January 1901.
The original shows had been arranged in plain alphabetical order by filmmaker, but for the Victorian shows a more thematic approach was chosen, partly for the sake of different audiences, partly in the hope of attracting press interest for specific programmes (which indeed happened), and partly because the eventual film compilations would be of greater use to researchers in the future. The eventual themes chosen, and the titles of the programmes, were: Firsting the Firsts (the filmmakers of 1895), Brighton and Britain (British filmmakers, with a particular focus on the 'Brighton School'), Lumière (all of their British productions), Personalities and Performers (the names that first brought people into see films), The Wonders of the Biograph (the American and British Mutoscope and Biograph companies), War (with a particular focus on the Boer War), Sport and Recreation (including travel), and Discoveries (unidentified films, scientific films and pre-cinema images animated).
The NFTVA's own substantial holdings of Victorian film were to form the majority of films shown. It was a goal of the project that, by the time of the cinema centenary, every piece of Victorian film in the NFTVA should be properly preserved, accessible through a viewing copy, identified, shotlisted, and screened during the film season. Such a target was bound to be unattainable, with small gauge and large format films demanding more time than could be devoted to them at such a busy period, but many previously inaccessible films were made available, and among the films previously unidentified or simply not looked at for years there emerged some surprises. None was more welcome than the discovery that a film held in the Archive since the 1930s as A Game of Cards (France 1899?) turned out to be Une partie de cartes (1896), Georges Méliès' first film (number one in the Star-Film catalogue). The ultimate intention is to have every film in the subsequent compilations accessible both in that form and as a separate reel of film, so that all future access requests can be satisfied. This is likely to be a long process, but the compilations of such themes as the Boer War and Queen Victoria have already proved most useful to researchers.
As well as the NFTVA's own holdings the programmes were also to comprise films from other archives. The Centre National de la Cinématographie, as part of its project to make its restored Lumière films widely available for the centenary, generously supplied prints of over 70 of the films shot by the Lumière operators in England and Ireland, most of which had not been seen in the country since the 1890s. The copies have now been acquired by the NFTVA. The NFTVA and the Nederlands Filmmuseum have been engaged in the joint restoration of 68mm Biograph films through the LUMIERE programme and the NFM supplied three reels of British and Dutch Biograph films, again bringing a large number of key films back to a British screen for the first time since the 1890s. Finally the programme of scientific films was only possible through the use of Virgilio Tosi's remarkable compilation film, The Origins of Scientific Cinematography, made available by the British Universities Film and Video Council.
A deadline of December 1995 was set for all of the new prints to be available, with anything remaining after that date to be discounted. Happily we had eight complete programmes all ready, though not in their final state of compilation, and as the opening date grew nearer the enormity of arranging what were then thought to be just over 600 films (the number strangely grew as the season progressed) at a time of maximum access request for such titles proved almost too much, especially when NFTVA staff had other, equally pressing duties to perform. The first compilations arrived, made up by indefatigable staff at the NFTVA's J. Paul Getty Conservation Centre (notably Josie Poulton and Maureen Churchill) two weeks before the first programme on February 7th. Rehearsals had been arranged for each screening, essential with so many films under different titles (not everything fitted into neat compilations as we would have liked, and some films turned up in more than one programme, leading to some hurried but expert editing work by George Smith of the NFTVA's Viewing Service), running at different speeds, and in some cases arriving with only minutes to spare. The patience of the projectionists at the National Film Theatre was to be sorely tested.
Before the opening programme it was of course necessary to drum up audience interest, with an attractive layout in the NFT programme booklet and, thankfully, a press office which showed great enthusiasm for the project. The result was a good house for the first programme, though it was a less than happy start. A mix-up in the vaults had meant that the films were not available for rehearsal, and there were errors over film speeds. The greatest mistake was to misjudge the timing, thinking that the programme was too short and that it could be extended by running most films at 16fps. The programme dragged on in an over-warm cinema for two hours, and a golden rule for compilation programmes should be not to run much over 90 minutes. Another is to run the films faster rather than slower, as any Victorian showman could have advised us. A general 18fps would have been perfect. Nevertheless it was generally a successful programme of Birt Acres, Robert Paul, Edison and Skladanowsky titles mostly, spoiled chiefly by showing murky 16mm paper prints of Edison films and an old MOMA compilation of Edison films where the titles seemed to drag on endlessly. The highlight was some of the first restored titles from the NFTVA's great centenary coup, the discovery (by the film historian Bill Barnes) of a collection of eighteen films from the 1895-97 period, including what are thought to be two of the very first British films ever made, The Derby and Carpenter's Shop, both made by Acres and Paul early in 1895. But the audience spoke very little - if they were not going to take a more active part then the whole project would collapse.
Fortunately by the second programme the following week (the first four programmes were each on Wednesday evenings) the audience had caught on to the idea of commenting and questioning along with the lecturer, and a lively and entertaining evening was the result. A wise decision had been made to vary the presentations along with the programmes. Luke McKernan of the NFTVA was the chief presenter, but guest lecturers also took part, and for the second programme on British filmmakers, Frank Gray of the South East Film and Video Archive gave an entertaining account of the Brighton and Hove filmmakers Esmé Collings, G. A. Smith and James Williamson. Other filmmakers featured included Cecil Hepworth, Charles Goodwin Norton (whose charming films with their free 'home movie' style now seems very advanced for their time), Bamforth, and another recent discovery, the local films of a draper from Cockermouth in the north of England, William Youdale. The programme came in at 100 minutes, just about ideal.
The Lumière programme fell on February 21st, 1996, the centenary of the first commercial cinema show in Britain. People clearly had a sense of occasion as the show rapidly sold out, resulting in the extraordinary sight in the NFT foyer of people begging for a ticket for an early film show moments before the show was about to start. It was also interesting that so many of the audience had probably never seen such films before (one normally expects a fair number of 'regulars' who can be guaranteed to come up with good comments and questions). The English and Irish Lumière titles delighted everyone, the artistry of Alexandre Promio, with his many variations on the theme of the tracking shot, being much remarked upon. Few in the audience would have known of the chaos that had existed behind the scenes, as on the same day some of the same films were also appearing on the other side of London at the University of Westminster, site of the first British film shows in 1896 and now hosting a centenary exhibition. Many a tale could be told of desperate dashes down London streets clutching vital cans of film, of last minute editing jobs, of locked projection boxes and disappearing films. February 21st, 1996 was a long day.
February ended with the most ambitious programme of all, Personalities and Performers. The theme was Performers on Film and the Famous on Film, a concept which worked for all except the final 20 minutes. The opening Georges Méliès compilation was a delight. We are so used to Méliès's larger works that it is possible to overlook the artistry of those chamber works where there is only Méliès, a piece of illusion, and maybe Jehanne d'Alcy to assist. In particular the nightmarish Déshabillage impossible, with Méliès trapped in an endless cycle of undressing, was warmly applauded. Another highlight was a Gibbons' Bio-Phono-Tableaux synchronised sound film for which an original cylinder had been traced. Hearing and seeing Lil Hawthorne sing out Kitty Mahone once again, if not too well synchronised, was a magical experience. The final section was most ambitious, as it employed computer technology to do the job of what would usually be a slide show. With a laptop plugged into the NFT's video projection system, the presentation consisted of a map of Queen Victoria's diamond jubilee route around London in 1897 (a vital news story for the emergent film industry) intercut along points of that route with either stills from otherwise lost films of the event (mostly taken from the copyright collection in Britain's Public Record Office) or moving film at the appropriate locations. Such intercutting between electronic and regular projection required some careful planning, astute work from the projection box, and not least some welcome computer expertise from the NFTVA's Mike Caldwell. A lot of preparation is needed for such a presentation, but there are great benefits - the ability to zoom in and out on slides, to incorporate diagrams, highlight sections, and of course the flourish of showmanship. An unexpected drawback was that it is very difficult to lecture, keep an eye on your notes, operate a computer and look at the screen (which screen ?) all at the same time. The concept of Victoria as a film star did not really come over, however, and this final section to the programme drove the timing over two hours.
It was difficult enough to prepare one such programme per week; two per week with which we were forced to work for the latter half of the season was insane. Fortunately the Biograph programme was a simple one, showing the 35mm prints of 68mm originals from the NFTVA and NFM collections. The essence of such programmes must be variety, and there is always a danger of boring the audience with a programme of films by one company or all of the same kind. But the timing was just right, and the show built up to a fine climax with some outstanding NFM prints including Pope Leo XIII blessing the audience, scenes from the trial of Alfred Dreyfus, and an exhilarating view of a speeding train from another train moving just ahead of it. An amazing view from a moving tram along Ealing Broadway, London (which came from a private collection), made a great ending for a London audience. We made a point of ending each show, if possible, with a special item or surprise.
The war programme was the best attended after the Lumière show. The film historian Stephen Bottomore gave an informative opening presentation on the first war cameramen the programme had as its centrepiece the Anglo-Boer War of 1899-1902, though it was noticeable how very few of the films showed any sort of actual military activity at all, making W.K.L. Dickson's view of the retreat of the British from Spion Kop all the more extraordinary; one of the great early film scoops. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the programme was the audience reaction to the 'fake' war films on show. It is common to express surprise that anyone in the contemporary audience would have been fooled by such crude recreations. It was remarkable then that some members of the sophisticated NFT audience had to ask the lecturer which films they were seeing were genuine and which fake. One person, perhaps not blessed with perfect eyesight, came up afterwards and thanked us for showing film of the Spithead naval review of 1897 in which he had recognised unique film of a particular boat in which he was interested. In fact we had shown an Edison recreation with models of a naval incident in the Russo-Japanese war of 1905 in a rather unclear 16mm paper print. Perhaps the audience has not changed all that much in the past 100 years.
The least successful show was Sport and Recreation, because the audience interested in sport were not interested in the general scenes of travel that filled out the programme, which in any case became a little too much the programme where everything was placed that did not fit elsewhere. A particularly awkward moment came when it was discovered that someone was secretly and illicitly filming the sports films from the front row. A very difficult situation to deal with when also trying to comment on films that are passing by in thirty seconds. The highlight was scenes from the James Corbett-Bob Fitzsimmons world heavyweight boxing contest of 1897, in widescreen format, though sadly missing the essential knockout. The home movies of the Passmore family, dating from 1902 but allowed to slip into our Victorian net on account of their great charm, made a delightful conclusion to the programme.
The final Discoveries show was really three short programmes put together, though the formula worked. We opened with a reel of unidentified films - always a risk since there is less to engage the audience, but one may hope for clues to identification, and it is good to put such films back into the collective consciousness. A selection of scientific and medical films followed. Some of the first surgical films had people averting their eyes. We also showed A.C. Haddon's 1898 ethnographic films of the Torres Strait islanders with songs from the cylinders Haddon recorded on the same field trip. The two did not and were not meant to synchronise but it is known that Haddon did present his films in this fashion in 1906, if not before. The final section, presented by pre-cinema expert Stephen Herbert, was designed to confuse. We showed animated pre-cinema images of Muybridge, Marey, Demenÿ, Le Prince and others, asking the audience just what was meant by moving images and where it could be said to have all begun. A final coup and tease was to show moving images taken by William Friese-Greene; a man commonly dismissed as a charlatan who achieved nothing and yet here (albeit animated by modern technology) were scenes taken by him of the King's Road, London, in 1890. On this provocative note our season concluded.
Victorian films were never meant to be shown in 90 minute or longer programmes, of course. Twenty minutes was more than enough in 1896. To present such programmes it is necessary to put a lot of thought into structure and variety, as well as supplying the audience with useful information, but not too much of it, and being prepared to make mistakes, stand corrected, and face every sort of question under the sun. If a question was a little too technical or arcane, there was usually someone else in the audience who could answer it, but the lecturers were sometimes floored by detailed enquiries about electric trams, or impossible ones about what sort of hats people liked to wear in the 1890s. The NFTVA is trying to develop this notion of 'public cataloguing', where the audience is invited to identify titles, locations or other aspects of films. Such answers naturally have to be treated with caution, but opening out the collection in this way and encouraging people to contribute to our knowledge of these films has to be a good thing.
Anecdotes and jokes are essential in such shows one soon learns the Victorian lecturer's trick of talking to the subjects on the screen and bidding them perform some action just before they in fact do so. Informative programme notes also have to be prepared (a complete filmography was made available after the eighth programme) there was a foyer exhibition of stills, and there was the book Who's Who of Victorian Cinema to promote [*]. And there are the private battles and jealousies and miscomprehension inevitable in such an ambitious undertaking. But we showed over 700 film titles, got good audiences (several people loyally attended all eight), and managed most of the time to entertain and maybe instruct a little. Much thanks are due to those named above, to Bryony Dixon, Elaine Burrows, Jo Paine and many others. The Victorian film pioneers built the foundations of that film world which we now hold so dear. Hopefully it was an appropriate thank you to them all.
[*] Who's Who of Victorian Cinema a Worldwide Survey, edited by Stephen Herbert and Luke McKernan, is available from BFI Publishing, 21 Stephen Street, London W1P 2LN, Great Britain price £42.00 inc. p & p.