Full text of "Close up ... devoted to the art of films"

See other formats

Scanned from the collections of
The Library of Congress

Packard Campus
for Audio Visual Conservation
www.loc.gov/avconservation

Motion Picture and Television Reading Room
www.loc.gov/rr/mopic

Recorded Sound Reference Center
www.loc.gov/rr/record

CLOSE UP

I Shilling
5 Francs
I Mark
35 Cents

J U L Y I 9 2 8 I Franc Swiss

CLOSE UP

Copyriclf 1928 by Pool

CLOSE UP

Editor : K. Macphef< son
Assistant Editor : Bryher
Published by POOL
Riant Chateau - Territet - Savitzerland

CONTENTS

As Is

An Interview : A . Room .

Joan of Arc

Crashing the movies
La Tragedie de la Rue.
On being Bored with Films
Scenes d'exterieurs an Studio
Continuous Performance .

Notes

British scenarios in particular
Mr. Ocrilvie : An Interview

Comment and Review

Kenxlth Macphersox.
E. Hellmund-Waldow.
H. D.

P. B. Wadsworth.
Robert Herring.
Ernest Betts.
J. Lexauer.
Dorothy Richardson.
Freddy Chevalley.

OSWELL BlAKESTON.

R. H.

Paris Correspondent : Marc Allegret.
London Correspondent : Robert Herring.
Hollywood Correspondent : Clifford Howard.
Xew York Editor : Symon Gould
Geneva Correspondent : F. Chevalley.

SUBSCRIPTION RATES

ENGLAND . . 14 shillings per year.

FRANCE ... 70 francs per year.

GERMANY . . 14 marks per year.

AMERICA, . . 3 dollars and 50 cents per year.

CLOSE UP

Vol. Ill - No I

July 1928

AS IS

BY THE EDITOR

With this number Close Up embarks on a second year.
Its first has been sufficiently successful to make us confident
that its future is assured, and its value recognised among the
people, rapidly coming forward to fight for better fihns, who
have sound, logical insight into the great. ... I will not say
possibilities, for these have long been proved. . . .but oppor-
tunities for development of the ver}^ best screen art into
universal recognition.

Already Close Up has done much to realise its aims. Its
second year will see fruition of much that it has already
worked for. The ball has been set successfully rolling and
goes on gathering speed. We do feel that we have brought
together, as we first set out to do, hundreds of people whose
individual belief in the cinema was crushed and powerless

CLOSE UP

and alone. We have helped people to realise how much is
being done, has been done, and can be done to give them
films which are a true contribution to the progress not only
of art or education, but of the world itself. And this will
seem a far fetched statement only to those who pick up Close
Up for the first time to read these words. "Old stagers" —
they soon becom.e that in this world of dizzj' movement — will
know what I mean, and know too how much the screen has
accomplished, in sociology (take Mother or Bed and Sofa)
in education (take particularly specialised films for students
of medicine, surgery, physiology, etc., and in a broader sense,
Moana, Grass, Mt Everest, etc) in art (take Jeanne Xey, La
Tragedie, Silhne — a dozen others) in historj' (Potemkin, The
End of St. Petershiirg, La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc — though I
myself reject it firmly — ) in science, enlightenment, amuse-
ment, poetr}/, design, refuge and delight. Naturally one
does not categorise except as illustration. Almost any one
of the films I quote is each and every of the random classes
chosen. Mother, for instance, (the Russian Mother naturalh'.
I have a sneaking respect for Belle Bennett, but not for her
film of the same name) is certainly sociological, educative,
art, science, enlightenment, amusement, poetry, design, refuge
and delight. And in the long run any progress is world pro-
gress, so don't let us pick a quarrel over that.

The first natural prejudice that had to be overcome, or ra-
ther, the first impression of the public was that a journal
devoted only to film art w^ould be in the main limiting, and
even a little bit pernicious, in that it would be getting away

CLOSE UP

from facts and glorifying the bizarre, the stunted, the absurd
— ^that, in short, it would have the precious sterility of every
clique or group taking an ''ism" for its torch.

It did not take long to prove that Close Up found "isms"
as old-fashioned, dull and pompous as any progressive body
must do ; that far from being caught in the just post-war
flood of conventional freakishness, whose final aim was still
destruction, it was suggesting that they were as responsible
for the contempt of the trade toward so called '"artistic" films
as were custard pie and whitewash slinging farces for the su-
perstition that films were for the guttersnipe.

In a v/ord, Close Up was determined to be quite liberal,
and to be a sort of battleground. It scorned dogmatism and
the tiresome proselytising of the ''fashions-in-ideas" groups,
•'This season the waist-line of thought will be slightly raised,
and skirts a soupcon shorter" was the kind of thing at which
it might have levitated any amount of justifiable wrath.
Xot that it would have been necessary, since the proof of
such and all puddings is in the eating, if one may make bold

enough to be so verbally dashing, yet here we were

being accused of just that very thing we most certainly had
no illusions about.

This stopped pretty soon, since it became evident that we
were level headed and broad minded. Then people began
to be friendly. Then they sent in ideas, and suggestions,
which, whenever possible, we acted upon. It was and is
desired to make Close Up a really useful organ to all who be-
lieve in the film, w^hether the}^ are spectators only, or v/or-

CLOSE UP

king toward a means to have good films shown. It is their
views we want, and their needs we desire to fill. If our moti-
ves were in the least meretricious we would need to appear
aloof and Olympian. As it is we want to bring all groups
together, and make them a unit, since massed strength is. . .
well, we all know about the need for massed strength. And,
lest I be accused of tooting my own trumpet (which I never
could see was a. fault) think only how much more I might
have tooted it if this had been an advertisment page instead
of an editorial !

With all its liberality, however. Close Up desires officially
to state that it was in no way responsible for the development
of the "talkie". This monstrosity is descending full speed
upon us and I expect that most of us will be driven to the
wayside movie house. Dolores Costello in Tenderloin is surely
enough in itself without Dolores' voice honking mechanically
through a loud speaker. Bad enough to have one's cinematic
sense of criticism laid to waste, but when literary judgment
too is called upon to judge such stuff the air really does become
sulphurous. Let Londoners thank God for Mr. Ogilvie, whose
views on the cinema you may read about in this issue. And
what about the universal language of the screen ? However^
do not let us forget that we are liberal minded.

I have remembered it with Dreyer's Jeanne d'Arc, and feel
justified to state, in view of the article by H. D. that although
this is going to be hailed as the masterpiece of the screen, and
the epic achievement of all time, I don't think it is, and advise
readers to be wary in their criticism of it. Great it is, stu-

CLOSE UP

pendous it is, stupifying it is — so stupifying that it almost
does stupify one into not seeing what an incorrigibly senti-
mental and softly romantic rendering it is. We are not given
the superb sociological document we believe we are given.
Judges are again gangsters. Joan is so lovely with her vi-
sions all departed from her that you are apt to forget that
genius is never quite so at the mercy of mob. Sneering gangs-
ters too would have been quickly placed in the mind of a
veteran campaigner. This film ignores history-, except that
it uses some of Joan's answers, and has her burnt. Stripped of
its peculiarly potent trimmings and technique it is as base in
conception as Seventh Heaven, with its whipped innocent, its
blowsy drunkard sifter, its catering to the sheer squalid luxury
of pity.

Dreyer's film is great however because Dreyer does under-
stand grief. He understands beauty and the awfulness of
mercy, but he does not seem to understand that accusation
is part of daily life, and that casual brutality is not the pan-
tomimic hob-goblinish snarling of debased and elderly mons-
ters. Joan was the victim of law and order, not of hooli-
ganism. Pity at any price is a bad principle. To any who
have an historical, political, sociological, or even logical
flair, Joan will be a failure. We are tired of seeing the War
anyhow, but how insufferable it would be if we saw it tricked
out in a romanticism that made it just a sensation to wring
our hearts. So with Joan. The attitude toward her femi-
nine incorruptibibity is almost Dickensonian. And if you
like such women you deserve to.

CLOSE UP

For camera work, for uniformity, for tricks, for obvious
sincerity oi purpose, for lovely pictures, for Joan herself, this
picture has never been surpassed. But all the hopelessness
of her case is -o much less hopeless than the one close up of
the woman in Mother who simpering through lorgnettes at
the trial r.i ^he bo\', whispers relisliingly to her neighbour
"He's b > be convicted."" The whole film is told in the

first five minutes.

Kexxeth ]^1acphersox.

AN INTERVIEAV : A. ROOM

A. Room, who is noted among the Russian cinema directors
for the independance and individuality of his ideas, is to be
given charge of the direction of the first Russo-German fihn,
for the D^vussa societ}' of Berlin.

The film in question will be Boide de Suif of Maupassant.
This well known story of the French novehst \^ill afford A.
Room the chance to make the most of his incontestable ta-
lent as artist and director.

Room's special gifts were particularly e^fident in his fihn
Bed and Sola, which came afier The DeatJi Boat which had
shown ahead}' great promise. He owes his master}^ to a per-

CLOSE UP

feet knovvledge of the character of his actors as well as to a rare
aptitude for seizing the psychological aspect of human situa-
tions, without over-dramatising them^ however, and faith-
fully keeping in them all their artistic drive.

Room is a man apart, altogether apart : his technique is de-
rived from a new conception of cinematographic art in the
sense that it accords a fundamental value to a certain sere-
nity of rhythm and the frequent repetition of pp.uses.

I was able to see Mr Room personally and here is a sum-
mary of what he was kind enough to tell me.

•'We have always appreciated in the Russian cinema world,
the value and force of German films, which have unfailingly
been our inspiration in the realm of technique ; as for tha,t I
am sure that Germany has been able during these last two or
three years to realise the efforts that we have accomphshed in
Russia, which have been successful in spite of the precarious
means at our disposal, and able to give our fiJm-S a truly artis-
tic form. It seems to me that the universal cause of film^s suf-
fers actually from a sharp division, or shall we say from too
accentuated a dispersal of the forces at our command.

We can reasonably expect that in two or three years things
will change and that certain adjustments will help sensibly
the actual situation. When two private companies have the
chance to film together, the results obtained surpass all the
most optimistic previsions.

I am ver}/ happy to have received the task, however bur-
dened with responsibilities, of turning the first Russo-German
film. For various reasons, and chiefly artistic ones, v/e deci-

CLOSE UP

ded to film the story Boule de Suif by Maupassant. Because
of these considerations we have shghtly re-worked some passa-
ges of the novel, in modernising it ever such a little.

As a quite simple director, however much they may have
assigned to me a distinct and independant place in the w^orld of
Russian films, I will tell you also what are the opinions which
prevail in m}^ personal conception of the cinema, a conception
in which I sincerely believe and which I shall put in practice
during the realisation of the new film of which we are speaking.

I believe that the principal value of the film has been confer-
red on it by the diverse and complex character of human emo-
tions.

Passion and feeling alone, have right of entry into films and
I am not content myself with registering the completely super-
ficial manifestations of emotion but to seize them entirely and
show them in everyday life as they really are.

I want my camera to be like Roentgen, whose raj^s pierce
through to the innermost of our being. I want to project on
the screen the very foundation of man in order that the ana-
lysis of determinate sensations, of acts and thoughts, are trans-
lated into luminous images. The academic professor Bech-
serevv^ who died recently, taught me long ago the science of hu-
man reflexes.

I devoted several j^ears to the study of determinism, of
psychic states, of the theory of repressions, of Freud in parti-
cular, and of diverse manifestations of fear, anguish, sorrow
and love. All that I learnt has actually been of great ser-
vice to me in the preparation of my actors.

CLOSE UP

A man who appears on the screen ought not to have a
wax anatomy and we must feel that he is hving intensely, that
his heart beats and that warm blood courses through his veins.
Human actions are not objective and are modified by the so-
cial influences of the social milieu to which the person belongs,
whom we desire to represent. I have not neglected, either,
this fact in working.

Besides this, I am convinced of the value of an ordered and
calm rhythm in the play of the actors and in frequent pauses.
I would even say that the pause has a very definite bearing on
the action of a film."

« Nous avons toujours apprecie, dans le monde des cineastes russes, la va-
leur et la force de films allemands, dont nous nous sommes touCours inspires
dans le domaine technique... au reste, je suis certain que I'Allemagne a pu
se rendre compte, dans le cours de ces 2 ou 3 demieres annees, de 1' effort ac-
compli par nous autres, Russes, qui avons reussi, en depit des moyens sou-
vent precaires dont nous disposons, a donner a nos films une forme reelle-
ment artistique. 11 me parait que la cause universelle du film souffre actueUe-
ment d'un separatisme aigu, ou mieux d'une dispersion trop accentuee des
forces disponibles.

{( Nous pouvons raisonnablement esperer que dans deux ou trois ans les
choses changeront de tournure et que certaines dispositions amelioreront
sensiblement la situation actuelle. Lorsque deux compagnies privees ont I'oc-
casion de filmer en commun, les resultats atteints depassent les previsions
les plus optimistes.

« J'ai recu avec joie la tache, lourde cependant de responsabilite, de tour-
nerle premier film de collaboration russo-allemande. Pour des considerations
diverses, artistiques au premier abord, nous avons decide de filmer la nou-
velle « Boule de Suif de Maupassant. Bn vertu de ces considerations memes,
nous avons legerement remanie cerains passages de cette nouvelle, en la mo-
demisant quelque peu.

« Bn ma qualite de modeste regisseur, bien que Ton m'assigne une place dis-
tincte et independante dans les milieux du film russe, je vous dirais encore

CLOSE UP

quelles sont les opinions qui prevalent dans ma conception personnelle du ci-
nema conception en laquelle je crois sincerement et que je mettrai en pratique
dans la realisation du nouveau film dont il est question ci-dessus.

(( J'ESTIMK QUK I.A VAI.KUR PRIXCirALK DU FILM LUI EST CONFKREE TAR I,A
diversity: et la COMr-LEXITE DU CARACTE:rE et DES emotions HUMAIXES.

« La rassion, la sensibieite, seules ont droit d'acces au film, et je ne me
contente pas d'enregistrer la manifestation toute exterieure des sentiments,
mais bien plutot de les saisir et de les montrer tels qu'ils sont en realite, dans
la vie de tons les jours.

(( Mon appareil de prise de vue, ie veux le rendre semblable a celui de Roent-
gen, dont les rayons inquisiteurs percent notre nature intime. J 'aspire a pro-
ieter sur la toile le fond meme de I'homme afin que I'anah^se des sensations
determinantes, des pensees et des actes se traduise en images lumineuses. Le
Professeur academicien Bechserew, decede actuellement, me familiarisa jadis
avec la science des reflexes huniains.

(( J'ai consacre quelques annees a I'ctude du determinisme des etats pvSy-
chiques, de la theorie des refoulements de Freud notamment, et des manifes-
tations diverses de la peur, de I'angoisse, de la tristesse et de I'amour. Ce que
i'en ai appris m'est tres utile actuellement pour la preparation des acteurs*

« L'bomme qui apparait sur I'ecran ne doit pas avoir une anatomic de cire et
11 faut que nous le sentions vivre intensement, qu'il nous prouve de suite que
son coeur bat et projette un sang chaud dans ses veines. Les actions humaines
ne vSont evidemment pas objectives et subissent I'influence du milieu social
auquel appartient le personnage que nous voulons representer. Je n'ai garde^
naturellement, de negliger ce fait en travaillant.

« D'autre part, ie suis convaincu de la valeur d'un rythme ordonne et
calme dans le jeu des acteurs, et des pauses frequentes. Je dirai meme sans .
hesitation que la pause dans Taction d'un film a une portee tres definie.

E. Hellmund-Waldow.

CLOSE UP

JOAN OF ARC

"The Passion and Death of a Saint" is a film that has caused
me more unrest, more spiritual forebodings, more intellectual
rackings, more emotiona.1 torment than any I have yet seen.
We are presented with Jeanne d'Arc in a series of pictures, por-
traits burnt on copper, bronze if you will, anj how obviously:
no aura of quattrocento gold and gold dust and fieurs-de-lys in
staight hieratic pattern, none of your fresco that makes the
cell of Savonarola make the legend of Savonarola bearable even
to this day. Jeanne d'Arc is done in hard clear line, remorse-
less, poignant, bronze stations of the cross, carved upon mediae- .
val cathedral doors, bronze of that particular sort of mediaeval
fanaticism that says no and again no to any such weakening
incense as Fra x\nge]ico gold and lilies of hea^ enly comfort.
Why did and why didn't this particular Jeanne d'Arc so touch
us .? Jeanne d'Arc takes us so incredibly far that having taken
us so far, we are left wondering why didn't this exquisite and
superb piece of screen dramatisation take us further ? Carl
Dreyer, a Dane, one of the most superb of the magnificently
growing list of directors, is responsible for this odd two-edged
sort of feeling. His film, for that, is unique in the annals of film •
art. The passion of the Jeanne is superbly, almost mediumisti-

CLOSE UP

cally portrayed by M^^^ Falconetti. Heart and head are given
over to inevitable surrender. Heart broke, head bowed. But
another set of curious nerve-reactions were brought into play
here. Why is it that my hands inevitably clench at the memo-
ry of those pictures, at the casual poster that I pass daily in
this lake-side small town ? Is it necessary to be put on guard ?
Must I be made to feel on the defence this way and why ?
Also why must my very hands feel that they are numb and raw
and bleeding, clenched fists tightened, bleeding as if beating
at those very impregnable mediaeval church doors ?

For being let into the very heart, the very secret of the mat-
ter, we are left out of. . . something. I am shown Jeanne, she
is indeed before me, the country child, the great lout of a hulk-
ing boy or girl, blubbering actually, great tears coursing down
round sun-hardened, wind-hardened, oak-tree hardened face
outline and outline of cheek hollow and the indomitable small
chin. Jeanne is first represented to us, small as seen from above,
the merest flash of sturd}^ boy figure, walking with chained
ankles toward judges (too many) seated in slices above on
ecclesiastical benches. Jeanne is seen as small, as intolera-
bly sturdy and intolerably broken, the sort of inhuman show-
ing up of Jeanne that from the first strikes some note of de-
fiance in us. Now why should we be defiant ? I think it is
that we all have our Jeanne, each one of us in the secret great
cavernous interior of the cathedral (if I may be fantastic) of
the subconscious. Now another Jeanne strides in, an incompa-
rable Jeanne, indubitably a more Jeanne-ish Jeanne than our
Jeanne but it just isn't our Jeanne. Worse than that it is a

Dey Gilbe Pass,
Photos : Derussa

Die Todesharke (The Death Ship) Alexander Room's film made for
Prometheus-Film previously to his Bed and Sofa, and ranking as one
of the few really best films. See in this issue an interview with

A. Room.

Die Todesbarne was written by Leonidow, and ptiotographed by
B. Slawinsky. The cast includes W. Jaroslawetz as the ship's
engineer, A. Rawitsch as his wife. W. Ludwinskij and A. Matz-
ewitsch as'^their sons. Other names below.

An old sentence, with a shot in the back to make sure of it. Furth-
er principals are Kartaschewa as Anna Kutzowa, N. Saltikoff
B. Sagorski, I,. Jurjenew, A. Charlamoff (the captain) and O. Gel-
newa as a mother.

Two vivid impressions of the "orgy" in Jeanne Xey whose recent
showing at the Avenue Pavilion in London was so great a success
despite the remorseless clipping ordered by the censor.

Hans Stiiwe in Schinderkannes, the Prometheus film made by Curt
Bernhardt. A review and stills of this excellent film have already
appeared in our pages.

Schinderhannes (stripped left) flogged and despairing, is found by
a gang of thieves in the woods. On right (in black) Albert

Steinriick.

Qualen der Xacht (Toyjiieiiis of the Xight) another Curt Bernhardt
film which has brought him much recognition. Wilhelm Dieterle

plays lead.

Qualen der Nacht. Wilhelm Dieterle and Alexander Granach.

CLOSE UP

better Jeanne, a much, much better, more authentic Jeanne
that our Jeanne ; scathing reahsm has gone one better than mere
imaginative ideahsm. We know we are out-witted. This is
a real, real, Jeanne (poor Jeanne) little mountain Newfound-
land puppy, some staunch and true and incomparably loyal
creature, something so much more wonderful than any grey-
hound outline or sleek wolf-hound is presented us, the very in-
carnation of loyalty and integrity. . .dwarfed, below us, as if
about to be tramped or kicked into a corner by giant soldier
iron-heeled great boots. Marching boots, marching boots, the
heavy hulk of leather and thong-like fastenings and cruel
nails. . .no hint of the wings on the heels of the legions that
followed the lily-banner ; the cry that sang toward Orleans is
in no way ever so remotely indicated. We are allowed no
comfort of mere beatific lilies, no hint of the memory of lover-
comrade men's voices, the comrades that Jeanne must have lov-
ed loyally, the perfect staunch child friend, the hero, the small
Spartan, the very Telisila upon the walls of that Argos, that
is just it. This is no Telisila upon the walls of Argos, no Athene
who for the moment has laid aside her helmet for other lesser
matters than that of mere courage and fidelity. This is an
Athene stripped of intellect, a Telisila robbed of poetry, it is
a Jeanne d'Arc that not only pretends to be real, but that is
real, a Jeanne that is going to rob us of our own Jeanne.

Is that the secret of this clenching of fists, this sort of spi-
ritual antagonism I have to the shaved head, the stares, de-
fiant bronze-statue, from the poster that I pass on my way
to market ? Is it another Jeanne in me (in each of us) that

CLOSE UP

starts warily at the picture, the actual portrait of the mediae val
girl warrior ? The Jeanne d'Arc of Carl Dreyer is so perfect
that we feel somehow cheated. This must be right. This
must be right. . .therefore by some odd equivocal twist of sub-
conscious logic, / must be wTong. I am put in the wrong, there-
fore I clench my fists. Heaven is within yoj. . .therefore
I stand staring guiltily at bronze figures cut upon a church
door, at f reizes upon the under-gables of a cathedral that I must
&tare up at, see in sHces as that incomparable Danish artist
made me see Jeanne in his perhaps over-done series of odd slic-
ed portraits (making particularly striking his studies of the
judges and the accusers of Jeanne, as if seen by Jeanne her
self from below) ower whelming bulk of ecclesiastical political
accusation. I know in my mind that this is a great tour de
force, perhaps one of the greatest. But I am left v/ar^/, a
little defiant. iVgain why and why and wh}' and just, just
why ? Why am I defiant before one of the most exquisite and
consistent works of screen art and perfected craft that it has
been our immeasurable privilege to witness ?

One, I am defiant for this reason (and I have worked it out
carefully and with agony I and you and the baker's boy be-
side me and Mrs. Captain Jones-Smith/s second maid and our
own old Nanna and somebody else's gardener and the hone\"-
moon boy and girl and the old sporting colonel and the tennis
teacher and the crocodile of young ladies from the second pen-
sion to the left as you turn to the right by the market road that
branches off before the stall where the old lady sells gentians
and single pinks and Alpenrosen each in their season (just

CLOSE UP

now it is somewhat greenish valley-hhes) are in no need of such
brutality. No one of us, not one of iis is in need of this
stressing and stressing, this poignant draining of hearts, this
clarion call to pity. A sort of bugle note rises and with it our
own defiance. I am asked to join an army of incorruptibies to
which long and long since, I and the baker's boy and the tennis
champion in the striped red sash have given our allegiance.
This great Dane Carl Dreyer takes too damn much for granted.
Do I have to be cut into slices by this inevitable pa.n-move-
ment of the cam.era, these suave hues to left, up, to the right,
back, all rythmical with the remorseless rhythm of a scimitar ?
Isn't this incomparable Dane Dreyer a very ];lue-beard, a
Turk of an ogre for remorseless cruelty ? Do v/e have to have
the last twenty four hours' agonj^ of Jeanne stressed and stressed
and stressed, in just this wa\s not only by the camera but by
every conceivable m^ethod of dramatic and scenic technique ?
Bare walls, the four scenes of the trial, the torture :^oom., the
cell a.nd the outdoors about the pyre, are all calculated to drive
in the pitiable truth like the very nails on the spread hands of
the Christ. Do we need the Christ-nails driven in and pulled out
and driven in and drawn out, v/hile Jeanne already numb and
dead, gazes dead ana numb at accuser and fumbles in her dazed
hypnotized manner towards som.e solution of her claustra-
phobia ? I am shut in here, I want to get out. I want to
get out. And instead of seeing in our minds the very ambro-
sial fields toward which that stricken soul is treading, foot
by foot like the very/ agony toward skull-hill, we are left pin-
ned hke some senseless animal, impaled as she is impaled by

CLOSE UP

agony. This is not not good enough. There is some shir on
the whole of human consciousness, it is necessary to stress and
stress and stress the brute side of mystic agony this way.
Somehow, something is wrong here. An incomparable art, an
incomparable artist, an actress for whom any but praise were
blasphemy. . .and what happens ?

I do not mind crying (though I do mind crying) when I see
a puppy kicked into a corner but I do mind standing aside and
watching and watching and watching and being able to do
nothing. That is something of the antagonism I think that
crept in, that is something of the something that made me feel
I ought to go again, to be fair, to be sure what it was that upset
me, perhaps cowardice on my own part, some deep sub-cons-
cious strata or layer of phobia that I myself, so un- Jeanne-like,
was unwilling to face openly. I said to myself next morning
I will get this right, I am numb and raw, I myse]f watched
Jeanne d'Arc being burnt alive at Rouen last night. . .and I
myself must go again. . .ah, that is just it. We do not go
and see a thing that is real, that is real beyond reahsm, Again.
I said I will go again but I did not got again. I did not and
I don't think I failed any inner "light", any focus of cons-
ciousness in so ceding to my own new lapse. I can not watch
this thing impartially and it is the first film of the many
that I have consistent^ followed that I have drawn away from.
This is perhaps the last and greatest tribute to the sheer artis-
try and the devilish cunning of the method and the technique
of Carl Dreyer. T pay him my greatest compliment. His is one
film among all film>, to be judged differently, to be approach-

CLOSE UP

ed differently, to be viewed as a masterpiece, one of the ab-
solute masterpieces of screen craft. Technically, artistically,
dramatically, this is a masterpiece. But, but, but, but, but. . .
there is a Jeanne sobbing before us, there is a small Jeanne
about to be kicked by huge hob-nailed boots, there is a
Jeanne whose sturdy child-wrist is being twisted by an ogre's
paw because forsooth she wears a bit of old hard hammered
unwieldy bulk of gold upon one finger, there is a numb hypno-
tized creature who stares with dog-like fidelity, toward the
sly sophist who directs her by half -smile, by half -nod, by im-
perceptible lift of half an eye brow toward her defaming ans-
wers, there is a Jeanne or a Joan whose wide great grey eyes
fill with round tears at the mention of her mother (''say your
pater noster, you don't know your pater noster ? you do ?
well who taught it to you ?") there is Jeanne or Joan or Johan-
na or Juana upon Jeanne or Jean or Johanna or Juana. They
follow one another with precision, with click, with monotonyK
Isn't that a little just it ? There is another side to all this.,
there is another series of valuations that can not perhaps be
hinted at consistently in this particular presentation of this
one kicked little puppy of a Jeanne or a Joan or a Johanna.
Isn't it just that ? Isn't the brute side of the flawless type,
the Jeanne d'Arc of all peoples, of all nations, the world's
Jeanne d'Arc (as the world's Christ) a little too defiantly stress-
ed, a little too acutety projected ? I know after the fi.rst half
of the second reel all that. I know all, all that. Just that
round child face lifted ''who taught you your pater noster P"^
gives me all, all that. I do not mean to saj^ that there could

CLOSE UP

have been any outside sort of beatific screen craft of heavenly
vision. I don't mean that. But Jeanne kicked aknost, so
to speak, to death, still had her indomitabJe vision, I mean
Jeanne d'Arc talked openly with angels and in this square on
square of Danish protestant interior, this trial room, this tor-
ture room, this cell, there v/as no hint of angels. The angels
were there all the time and if Jeanne had reached the spiri-
tual developement that we must believe this chosen comrade of
the warrior Michael must have reached, the half -hypnotized
numb dreary physical state she was in, would have its
inevitable psychic recompense. The Jeanne d'Arc of the in-
comparable Dreyer it seems to me, was kicked towards the
angels. There were not there, nor anywhere, hint of the ange-
lic wing tip, of the winged sandals and the two-edged sword
of Michael or of the distillation of maternal pity of her "fami-
liar" Margaret. Father, mother, the "be thou perfect" per-
fected in Jeanne d' Arc as in the boy of Nazareth, were in no way
psychically manifest. Such psychic manifestation I need hard-
3y say, need be in no way indicated by any outside innovation
of cross lights or of superimposed shadows. It is something
in something, something behind something. It is something
one feels, that you feel, that the baker's boy, that the tennis
champion, that the army colonel, that the crocodile of English
and Dutch and mixed German-Swiss (come here to learn French)
feels. We are numb and beaten. We won't go a second time.
The voice behind me that says wistfully, taken unawares,
^'I wish it was one of those good American light things" even
has its place in critical consciousness. For all our prepara-

CLOSE UP

tion, we are unprepared. This Jeanne d'Arc is sprung on us
and why should it be ? There is a reason for most things. I
think the reason is that it doesn't link up straight with hu-
man consciousness. There is a gap somewhere. We criticise
many films, sometimes for crudity, sometimes for sheer vicious
playing up to man's most febrile sentiment, sometimes for
cruelty or insincerity. We criticise Jeanne d'Arc for none
of these things.

The Jeanne d'Arc of the incomparable artist Carl Dreyer is
in a class by itself. And that is the trouble with it. It
shouldn't be.

H. D.

CRASHING THE MOVIES '

This is an unvarnished account of how I stormed Holly-
wood, and of how I failed to "crash the Movies". I write
with the hope that other intelligent young men and women of
my generation will come forward and declare their attitude
towards the new art of the motion picture.

The genesis of my pilgrimage to Los Angeles is to be foimd
in three slight happenings in the summer of 1927. No. i.
Ernest Vajda, Hungarian dramatist, author of Fata Morgana,

CLOSE UP

was now writing original stories for Paramount. His Service
for Ladies, starring Adolph Menjou, made one aware of the
possibilities for the intelligent writer with the knack of the
light-comedy touch. The film was not first-class, but it was
excellent stuff. Two stories already suggested themselves
to one's brain. No. 2. Paramount had taken a stor\' by that
curious high-brow bird from Chicago, Ben Hecht, and turned
it into a box-office success : Underworld. Later on one dis-
covered that much of the genius in this thriller was due to the
marvellous direction of Josef von Sternberg. No. 3. Through
one of those dreadful chatty magazines made for Movie fans
one learned that Paramount w^as looking out for new talent
among young, unknown writers, that an Authors Council,
headed by Owen Davis, the dramatist, had been formed to
deal with this end of the business. It was stated that Paramount
were going to pick out unknown young writers, transplant
them to HolMvood, pay them S 200 per week for six weeks,
then, if they showed promise to take them into the company
under contract.

Before taking an^^ practical step in the matter I reviewed
my position. What were my particular quaUfications for
this Movie business. Point 1. I was not crazy to make mo-
ney out of writing for the Movies. Naturally I did expect
to make money if I got in, but this was not the guiding fac-
tor. Point 2. I had been vitally interested in films ever
since about 1911-12, about which time I must have seen The
Miracle and Queen EUzaheth. In 1920 I had actually adapted
a nove] into a scenario on my own initiative. I had seen films

CLOSE UP

in many lands. I believed that the film is a new art medium.
Point 3. I had travelled extensively : Asia, Europe, and the
United States. I therefore felt that I knew a little about the
various audiences. Point 4. I had done a certain amount
of successful journalistic work, w^hich is supposed to be the
general path towards a screen career. Point 5. I knew that
I possessed in an unusual degree a dramatic sense. My intense
interest in the legitimate stage revealed th?.t. I also believed
that I possessed a great deal of visual imagination. I mention
these several points to make it clear that my interest in films
was not a sudden snobbish or hysterical interest, but a real
growing interest. So far so good.

My first practical step, since I knevv not a single soul in this
''industry", was to goto the source of my inspiration. Para-
mount. In their New York office I attempted to see Mr. Owen
Davis. Of course, he w^as too busy rehearsing a new play to ^ee
me. However, I was able to see a ver}^ charming young woman
who listened to me sympathetically, and after eloquently
pleading my case I went away with a letter of introduction to
the head man in the Hollywood studio. This was all I car-
ried in my port-folio to influence "these great m.en of the
Movie Industry".

I will not write here of my trip to Los Angeles, of how I set
out from New York with one hundred dollars in my pocket
(over 3.000 miles), and a copy of "The Brothers Karamazov"'
in my hand. The slow trek across the United States, with
odd visits to local Movie houses to see what the "Hicks" w^ere
really like (I saw Metropolis again in some small mid- American

CLOSE UP

town) left me conscious of the kind of audiences to be found
in America proper.

Arrived in Los Angeles my first visit was to som.e Russians
I had met in Europe. The man I me': was secretary to the
"great" Russian, w^homi I will not mention by name, but who
has as great a reputation in his owa country as Reinhardt basin
Gemiany. His first question was " Have you come here under
contract ?" When I toJd him I had arrived on spec, he was
horrified, predicting death, and desolation. He reinforced
his attitude by relating their oAvn adventures in Movie-land.
It appeared that they had been specially imported because
of their terrific reputation. But after the shouting was over
they had been practically idle for thirteen months, doing
nothing but drawing their salary envelopes. The company
would not let them do anything at all, and even the one story
which was so botched that the "great Russian" had to repu-
diate the authorship in print. They left for Moscow shortly
afterwards.

]\Iy next move was a visit to Paramount armed with my
precious letter. But already I had heard mutterings that
letters of introduction in HoUwood were as thick as the lea-
ves of Vallomxbrosa. How^ever, it did get me into the inner
sanctum. I might interrupt my narrative here to give my
impression of these "front" offices of the studios. They are
all alike, guarded by tw^o-or three zealous keepers who are
supposed to keep out all those who have no real business behind
the facade of the studio. Questions of an intimate nature
are asked, and since all sorts of people are sitting about there

2fj

CLOSE UP

in an air of embarrassment. "Who do you want to see ?"
-''Does he know you ?" "What^s it about ?" "You can
speak to Mr. Brown on the 'phone.. here he is". iVnd one is
compelled to bellow one's plea through that \\Tetched m.ediuni.
If you say 3'^ou have a storj^^ for Pola Negri j^ou \dll be told to
send it in to Mr. So-and-So. Often it is the stenographer- —
generally called ''his secretan.^'" — who answers the telephone
and assures you that the "great" m_an is much too busy to
see any one at all. It took me two whole days before I saw
Mr. Sheldon, head of the Editorial Department of Paramount.
But although he received me cordially enough he was much
too immersed in some story for Bebe Daniels to pay much
attention to my ideas. "WTiat have you got to offer in m.a-
nuscript form" v/as the question. Also "Have you got any
ideas suitable for Miss Negri ?" To the first question I had
to answer "Nothing", and to the second I had to answer "Not
at present ?" "Bring some stories in and 111 read them" was
the parting cry. I left his office very depressed and gloomy (") .
Upstairs, installed in Room 99 (or some such number) I found
Ernest Vajda, w^ho I had met casually in Budapest. I told
him of my plans, and suggested that I place several ideas
before him to work on. But he said that he only dealt in
his own ideas, but he would be pleased to read anything I
had to offer. Otherwise he had no power in the company ; he
was just a contract writer.

(*) It was, however, surely very optimistic of the author to expect
xesults if he had nothing to show ? Ed.

CLOSE UP

That same week I wandered into the office of a lad}' of the
press : a certain Miss Louella Parsons, Movie Chatter reporter
for the Hearst chain of newspapers. I told her about a storv^
I had for Greta Garbo, and two days later I found that I was
an "ambitious writer with more courage than common-sense"
in coming to Holh^vood on "spec". She told me in great
confidence that Pola Negri lived at the swagger Ambassador
Hotel, a fact known to everyone in Los Angeles.

I next went down to Metro-Goldwyn at Culver City. There
I got in without a letter. Perhaps my very English accent
helped. Yes, they were looking for stories for Miss Garbo.
Send something in.

Intermission for starvation act.

Then I sat down and wrote in about thirt}' pages a detailed
story suitable for the talents of Greta Garbo before the dud> of
Hollywood got hold of her. (I had onh seen her in one
film : Joyless Street, and was completely ignorant of her
artistic "ruin"). This time, at Metro-Goldwyn, I w^as shun-
ted off on to a certain Mr. Harris. Before I had made two steps
into his office he had decided that I was a useless "high-brow",
and began telling me w^hat was the trouble with such fellows
as myself. Also, was m.}^ story a "costume" story, for, so
said Mr. Harris, "the public doesn't want costume stories".
As a matter of fact Metro was on the point of producing a
Baroness Orczy story of the i6th. century. I informed him
that my story was by no means a high-brow affair, that it
was merely a modern re-hash of Shakespeare's "Romeo and
Juliet", the most famous love story in the world. But this did

CLOSE UP

not affect Mr. Harris, for a few daj^s later I received back my
manuscript with the painful news that it did not "fit in with
our programme".

My next move was in the direction of the Fox people. One
knew that Murnau was there, and Ludwig Berger had just
arrived from Berlin. Both of these men, I knew, would know
whether my story was worth while or not. But, alas, "try
and get in", as the Americans say. Even when I had met
the gifted children of Thomas Mann, who were both holi-
dajdng in HoUwood, and had tried to meet the great Murnau
through them, it was all in vain. I v/as closeted with one of
the younger editorial stalf, who was very polite, but very
dull. When I returned to get my story he rather wearily
said that it was a "sordid stoiy". This in spite of the fact
that it was a completely romantic story without any sex in
it at all. I then put the story away, and decided thet it was
a waste oft ime letting them read it. But this was not the end.

Paramount had asked me for Pola Negri. For days and
days I dug deep into my mind for something suitable for her,
and one night a whole clear idea appeared. It was so com-
pelling that it kept me aw^ake half the night. The following
day (I think I had to borrow the car fare) I rushed out to Pa-
ramount full of my first-class idea which was going to bring
the Negri back to public favour. But young men full of en-
thusiasm are not wanted at such places. The secretary of
Mr. Sheldon assured me it was impossible to see him. I must
see Mrs Stickinthmud. I groaned, shouted and argued, but
this only made it the harder--" another crazy fellow trying to

CLOSE UP

crash into the movies". So the wonderful idea is still impri-
soned within my brain waiting until some person is willing
to listen.

Let me record one more incident. Just before I was pre-
paring to leave the City of Dreadful Blight (Money and Sun-
shine) some one in New York sent me a long, personal letter
of introduction to one of the biggest executives in the ^letro-
Goldwyn firm. At last, I thought, I shall surely get in. But
not more than bis secretary's face did I see. I even went to
his private house where I was practically pushed out oi the
house by his wife. This ended m}^ attempt to get into the
movies.

Owing to the fact that I was practically penniless most of
the time my troubles were more complicated than the above
bare chronicle can reveal. If I had arrived with resources
enough to last out about one year, or if I bad been able to
get some outside position while I was attacking the central
gates of the great movie studios I might have managed by
about January 1929 to get a job in one of those many rooms
adapting comedies for Mr. Reginald Dennj^

Although my limited financial condition kept me from wide
social intercourse I met two other young men in my position.
The one was a Pole, the other a Russian Jew. Their problem
was not how to become a writer for the movies, but how to
become producers. Both of them had been in Los iVngeles
a long time without anj^ real success. The}^ vvere just waiting
for something to turn up. Los Angeles is too full of dull peo-
ple to make it a pleasant waiting room.

CLOSE UP

Apparently there is only one way for the young, unknown
writer of intelligence to get on to the w^riting staff of a movie
studio. He must be able to crash" his way into one of the
large fiction magazines of America. This may take m.any
years, for they specialise in "big" names. Otherwise, the
situation seems pretty hopeless.

P. Beaumont Wadsworth.

LA TRAGEDIE DE LA RUE

Whose feet ? Where are thej' going ? That is not the
kind of thing we shall know. We feel that. These are feet
seeking to escape us, tripping and creeping (feet, feet, feet)
close to that wall. But we know the wall, we know the mud
and the cobbles, and the feet are treading through something
we know.

The street, too. We know it, not only because it is photo-
graphed, a httle over-luciously this time, \>y Guido Seeber.
The walls and the angles that comes down here, so that there
is a way going up there and a wa\^ going ever so slightly, but
how differently, to the right. That second way is different
from the first, one is hidden from the first, going there, one
might be safe, or one might miss something. Which way did

CLOSE UP

the feet take ? The light, the rather-too-much hght, doesn't
belong here. The light says there should be no light in this
street. It is put there, by lamplighter or cameraman (I have
to admit, more probably by cameraman) to show light does
not belong here. The street knows it, and we know it.

So this street, feet and feet, is, besides being ver}^ vividly
itself, something also we know. Something of us in terms of
wall and mud and a girl in a too-short skirt (a French girl
killed herself once because they wouldn't give her a licence, she
was too young) made visible by light that doesn't belong.

The feet have been followed by other feet. Girl's feet follo-
wed by man's upstairs, into a room. Fight, rush to window
scream. x\nd here is another room, with Asta Nielsen. We
know her, too. We know the kind of film this will be. We
can sit back. Or rather, don't sit back, sit up. Asta Nielsen
in a frightening tight bodice that catches the light as she raises
her arms. Asta Nielsen making the light belong. She is
raising her arms to do her hair, and that means to her pulling
it apart at the roots, dipping a tooth-brush in dye. A room
leading off, with a girl, fluffy and obvious, we know her too.
The fight opposite goes on. The fluffy girl hears the scream,
and flies in to Nielsen, w^ho smiles one of those dreadful smiles,
short and wise, with what shouldn't be known so absolutety.
When 5^ou have lived here longer she says, dipping the tooth-
brush, you will get used to that. The crowd is splitting, those
earty feet will only dangle now. Into the picture sUdes Homol-
ka, giving the word of "police**. He is Nielsen's man. She
is a little bored with him. Why will he be proprietary ? If

CLOSE UP

he wants to feel sei- respect, he can stop being kept by her.
Why will he fuss, th/-. scarf would have been all right, if she
had put it on that v\ -y. Now it isn't, and any\vay, on va des-
cendre. Come on, ^ - a says to the girl, on va descendre. Has
there ever been a ni ore frightening caption than that ? But
the girl has no neea to descendre to-night. She is going to a
supper, champagne md all. Nielsen gives her a shoulder-
flower, she is helpiiig this girl on her Vv^ay. She herself is
past being given champagne suppers. She goes down. This
way and that, feet c /er the cobbles, feet, sway, a step or two,
turn, the street, fee i, feet, fade out.

The girl is going i:u-town. Up town, too, dinner is waiting.
A son has not comt home. The mother waits, and waits too,
we can see, to interc- pt the storm. It is a pity to use the cliche
of a key fumbling at : he door. But the son comes in. "Again ! "
the mother says, ":n this state again". Father. A scene.
This is, on the whole, a bad scene, not lifted up, as the rest
are. Too strongly lit. The son, sick of all this, and a little
sick, too, with drini:, or will be soon, flings out. Of course
he hits the street. H-:mgry and giddy, he sits down. This after
sometime, and the} have all been expecting him home again.
Here is a flaw, though you did not notice it the first time, and
might not have thr second had not ]\Iarc AUegret pointed it
out. The son should be younger. That "again" of the mo-
ther spoilt it. If h;: drank often, he would know what to do,
he would have friends to go to, other bar-companions. And
Asta Nielsen, Vv^hen -he comes back, and finds him heaped on
the cobbles, wouldn t have been the first woman he is to know.

CLOSE UP

Still, Asta Nielsen is here again, she can take everything up
and make it not matter, in the bigger thing she makes.

She leads him up,, turning the other man off. She Jays the
table, prepares food. And how wonderful when she talks,
and is so eager, and forgets, the kettle boils, and she burns her
fingers. And how good Pittschaw is, longing to eat the breads
waiting till her back is turned, hating to wait tiJl her back is
turned, eating hungrily^ cr\dng. How^ marvellous all this
meal, Nielsen pouring coffee, the squat liqueur bottle,
conversation softening from the early shyness, over the
liqueur, Nielsen pouring it, to shyness brought on by this
quick intimacy, as the night grows late, and night of course
means sleep.

Pause now and think how well we were brought to this
street. Steps, following feet to awful stairs. Not onh' eves
on edge, but ears made so too, as with the cry we flash down
to the street, where the filles are, up to the room the other
side, where they hear the noise. I have said a film ought to
be choreographed, and here it is, unobtrusively ; more unob-
trusively than Jeanne d'Arc.

Fluffy girl is returning, gay, confettied. She meets Homol-
ka, lolling outside Lea's house. He whines that she has a
new^ one. He has just been told to keep away, "it's over
between us". The girl won't see what there is to see in his
eyes and in his pose ; or she has, quickly, and jumps over it,
for she says, never mind, we have to do this, to come back to
men like you. Once again, the caption. You can't keep us,
it impHes (it says only about four w^ords) so we have to go out,.

CLOSE UP

to come back to you. O, this street, our eyes cry, how we
know it. How much a street and how more than a street it
is. The girl wakes late next morning. Nielsen is getting
breakfast ready. Her beetleish bodice is now a bright, white
w^ooUy. She has brightened the room. She is brighter herself ^
as she sets the tea-cosey that you feel she does not ordinarily
use. This means something, at last. She is, as she tells the
girl, pincee. Pittschaw comes out. He wishes to go, to pay
m the ordinary manner. We know what Nielsen's eyes do
to us, w^e are watching them, so we know v/hat will happen.
"There is no need. You can stay here as long as you like".
She has collected her savings, wrapped up in stays, from
which, she took last night to pay off Hom-olka, to buy a
confectioners' that is for sale. She goes out, persuading the
girl not to enter her room while she is away. She knows this
"each-for-her- self" too well.

Smartened, less sinister, she visits the shop. Over a cup
of coffee, it is settled.

Over a cup of coffee in her room, Homolka has put things

to Pittschaw. We share Lea. We the boy looks at

Homolka. We What was he feeling for Lea before ? We

do not know. Lea is old. Much more my style, says Homol-
ka. The fluffy girl is yours. So the boy does not know" the
girl ? Lea has been careful I Homolka fetches the girl . She
struts her stuff. Last night's streamers fly around, linking
them both up, hang down from the lamp. Very fine acting
here by Pittschaw. The door of her room closes on what she
has taken from Lea's room.

CLOSE UP

Lea closes the shop door, bright with a picture of her and
the boy serving there. On the way home, she stops in on the
floor below and engages an old pianist to play in her shop. And
she tells him to go on playing now, so that she can hear him as
she mounts. She is so happy.

Upstairs, her room is empty. There is only what she didn't
leave there, a squat liqueur bottle and streamers over the lamp.
She traces the streamers to the door. She listens with her
eyes. You know^ the Nielsen eyes. She beats on the door.
You know the Nielsen hands. That is w^hy this old stuff is
terrible to you. She even falls, taking to herself all the people
that have ever fallen from doors in films before. She takes
them, and gives to w^hat they did just the truth that makes
this the only time any one has fallen from a door before.
Through the boards, the piano sounds. Beat, beat hands
this, time beat.

It i? old stuff. And one no longer reacts to the fact that
harlots have hearts. And one must always react to Jeanne
d'Arc, But Dryer's wonderful film has this ; it takes from
us, it empties us, and this little street tragedy takes, and chan-
ges and gives back to us something wt should not have had
otherwise.

The boy, the other side of the door, is in ectasy of calf-love.
Fluffy is a sister of Lea in this, save that she does not unders-
stand why love should get mixed up in it ; this is attraction
for her, a pleasant variation from routine, but part of routine
nevertheless. Pittschaw comes out to face Lea. Haggard
old helpless Lea. She will forget this, it can not be his fault.

CLOSE UP

He sees only an old fille, trying to catch him, b ?cause no one
else is fool enough to have her. But he, at the height of being
let down by his youth, is wi'=^e. He quite understands, women
like her would be expected to take boys in ; he is not going to
be ruined because of a little sentimental kindness. And he,
she might as well know, is in love. (Fluffy, behind the door
thinks it as well to creep out.) He and the girl are going
away. O yes, he who cannot see, let alone realise how impos-
sible Lea's love is, that would be as tragic, but it would be a
way out, he who scorns the love of filles is confident of Fluffy»
Lea implores, begs, grove) s. The young man will get his
affaires.

Homolka comes in. Nielsen of course realises. We knew
how terrible her knowledge was. She smiles brokenly at
him. She takes a chair. L^ she apologising ? Is she taking
what she can get ? Well, it's a pity, but w^hat else could you
have ? She pours out from that bottle. Stop, stop, this is
last night's table. She drinks, makes conversation. Stop,
you can't do this, can't pour from that, of all bottles. Lea^
you don't, after all, know. Lea smiles. It would be better if
that girl went away, she has come between us. Again that
smile, a little crooked, not quite easy. You understand. . .?
If she went away. Lea goes know, yes. Homolka, skilfully
fuddled, recoils. Lea goes on, bottle goes on. And after all,
where is Homolka to go ? He will do it, he goes out. Lea has
an interview with the boy.

Feet, feet again, Fluffy's feet are treading the same way as
those earlier feet. And Homolka lurches after her. Up-

CLOSE UP

town, mother and father wait for their son, or for news. We
want to cry o:it to those feet. You can't walk hke that,

HERE.

Lea has discovered that the boy loves. After his cruelty
to her, she thought him incapable of it. But even then,
she would liave kept him, to have given her this chance.
But he loves, he says he really does, this girl. Lea's friend.
She had not simply caught him. It is incredible. Lea is
aghast. If that is so, she must save her. It may be too
late. She had only wanted to get her out of the wa}' . One
more or less is nothing in this street, and she and the boy could
have been happy. But he loves the girl. . .rush downstairs.
It may be too late. Past the pianist, which way ? Homol-
ka's feet close in on the girl. Shadows on the wall. Asta
Nielsen is at her corner. Which way ? A way going up
there and a waj^ going ever so slightly to the right. It ma}^
be too late. She goes the wrong way, x\sta Nielsen's feet, feet
go the wrong way.

She finds him in a wine-shop. Drunkenly hysterical in a
clod's way. People all round. Impossible to ask. She sits
down. Asks, in a lull. . . .some one comes up. Now her beer
is brought, now a girl talks. Will none of them go ? She
looks, He nods. It is good God. . .She sits, realising. This
is terrible. The cumulative effect of so manv fra\'ing inci-
dents is terrible. He is sick of her for this. Where will it
lead. He leaves.

Shadows again, and two hands. The detectives he had war-
ned others of in the beginning have got him.

CLOSE UP

Uptown, the boy crying in his mother's lap. He should have
avoided that disgrace. ''Some one has been killed because of
me. " He thinks he knows. They stick a notice outside Lea's
house. ''Room to let." Lea's room, not only the girl's.
One death more or less, what does it matter in this street ?
Lea is not a tragic figure ? She should not have been so light
about killing the girl ?

The girl shouldn't have been so light in taking the boy. The
boy shouldn't have taken to drink. The woman should'nt
have taken to the streets. It comes back to the street, the
house - that - j ack - built street, where motive and moral go
round and round. Lea wanted to be "good" now. She
was at a stage when this life she led held no more than the
life she had exchanged or refused for it. And when the boy,
who was her suddenly flowering ideal come real, broke up,
she still sought her "good" by the same means she had sought,
and got, everything else. And in this street, everj^thing came
back, to her and the boy came back to his family. Blame
them, perhaps.

A.i\y way, v/e are not academicians. You will either have
seen that this is no piquant mummery, but a very real con-
flict or you won't, and then it is you who don't matter. What
I write is only the instrument, and does not come into it. Lea
was true to herself, so was the hoy, and that Vv'as fatal. There
is not much hope, but when that happens ^v'ou don't need
hope, because you have fulfilment.

Asta Nielsen has played many filles. None more forcibly
than this. None more nobly, none more quietly, none more.

CLOSE UP

but here is a word that does not matter. \ve have seen some-
thing larger, none more beautifully. I- loes m.atter in a way.
For the blending of this theme, the glrnpse of happines^^ in
a life used to doing without it, the sudden arrival of all
she had turned her back against, to ^^'ake what was only
dormant and not dead, has to be don beautifully, I mean
cleanly, with nothing super flous or w dlowing, to make it
anything but wearisome Yellow Bock. And it is far from
that. Three women beatingly alive, i»r all that makes a
woman alive terribly, vibratingly, on a little sheet, this is the
screen, Mother, Jeanne d'Arc, La Trc -edie, not Talmadge,
Garbo and Gish.

Directed by Bruno Rahn, the film ha? .dready run for fifteen
weeks at ihe Ursulines as I write. aas been banned for
England, where the cinema is suppos d to be alive, they
say.

Asta Nielsen has made a film, on c^-caine this time, with
Werner Krauss. It was called ^'C.O.C. 437." but it has been
changed, I quote PJioto Cine ''-pour nou: proteg^r centre quoi,
grand Dieu", to a film on alcoholism, entitled Les Egares.
Another Nielsen is L' Age Dangerenx, \\y:h Bernard Goetzke.
La Tragedie de la Rue is held in Paris b\ M. B. Films.

Robert Herring.

CLOSE UP

ON BEING BORED WITH FILMS

There is no boredom in the world to be compared with that
of sitting through a thoroughly bad film, for a bad film is so-
exasperating that you cannot even go to sleep while it is being
shown. As you blink and yawn through its tedium, the germ
of indifference broadens out from this one masterpiece of bore-
dom into a vast cloud of horrible apathy coiling into the final
query : why do films exist at all, why do we put up with
their petrifying stupidity at all and the immense apparatus
of their manufacture ? We shall all be turned into idiots
if we stand it much longer !

And at once an infinitude of questions is struck out of the
main body of our complaint. One doubts the authenticity of
one's boredom. One does not enquire into the causes of bore-
dom at a tea-party or at the speeches made during a film-trade
luncheon. Such functions are dead from the beginning and can-
not be helped. You walk away from them to something else.

But films have a life and soul of their own and must be
considered. The odd thing is that in films of unquestioned
quality, such as ''Sunrise" or "The Circus" there are passages
which utterly fail in interest for all sorts of people, and you
see them getting up and leaving the theatre and taking away
with them valuable portions of one's own interest as they go.

CLOSE UP

The stream of interest that just now was Ml and flowing, has
been broken up and its quickness arrested.

I had been told that ''Barbed Wire" was a good film and it
was revived at my local theatre "by request". Sharing a not
too substantial belief in the common sense of public taste, I
went to see the picture and was bored to death, notwithstand-
ing the efficiency — the tedious efficiency — of Pola Negri, who
can be depen ; d upon, like Gloria Swanson, never to be de-
feated by am ^^ idng, never to be overcome or lost or lacking in
the maximum percentage of American "sure-film" value.

There is a ' • atleman associated with the Turf who "never
owes" anybov \^ anything. I was reminded of him then.

ible position to be in, w^hat a killing sense of
He doesn't owe a penny, h( is above leaning
: anything, Jike an archangel. He is complete,
can be added to his stature. He resembles a
3. You put it there and it stays there for ever
oeyond assistance.

/ films possess this irreclaima- - e status. They
tailored" and there is not a scrap of life be-
, And so you lose interest m them and spend
ing in the cinema looking a :
cursing the H :^e Wurlitzer and all its stops,
majestic and \quisite command of the th(-
id marry if she had brains, ar
in front of you.
Itogether, you reflect, are in i

What a deplu
self-sufiicienc
on humanity :
and not a cu
girder in a ho
and is utterl
A great m .
are "faultles
neath the cii
a sleei^less e •

whom you Wij
ting the scr^e
Film value
cess of trans 1

\\e pretty lights,
lar veiling at the
ire girls, one of
1 utterly forget-

.^ed of some pro-
tantiation, of some illumina ring violence done

CLOSE UP

to their complacency. Either that, or must be ill and should
cancel all engagements. The boredom arising from a bad film
is due to the film world being far too certain of what it wants
and too secure in its technique of accomplishment. I was told
the other day by a successful British film director that in Ame-
rica the director stands on the floor with his watch in his hand
timing each scene to the second. I registered a simple smile.
A moving picture, if it is to move, has no business to live in a
world of certainties. Xo artist can work in an atmosphere
of complete stability, and the motion-picture is now in a con-
dition in which all its values are too securely established, so
that only a great artist, by incredible exertions, can knock
them and get past them, and by that time he is himself a stret-
cher-case and is next seen (reading from left to right) basking
in the sunshine at Cap d'Antibes, with a mask of total indif-
ference to the row of film beauties about him.

Some of our critics — ^probably the most bored of all those
who have to do with films — have been complaining of this
staleness of invention even in the work of Charlie Chaplin.
But I cannot be bored with Chaplin, for although he reproduces
many of the stock situations of film comedy, his power and
understanding of the film medium are unmatched and he gives
to comedy all the beauty of its tragic inversion. His tech-
nique is so perfect that he does not have to think whether a
moment or a sequence is cinematic or not. If it w^ere not,
he would not have thought of it. We are in danger of for-
getting that the perfect film must conjure with movement
so as to keep it constantly in the air and thus justify the root-

CLOSE UP

principle of all camera work, of films altogether — the imita-
tion of life by action. Chaplin is supreme in this gift and
charms us by the infinite variety of his movement, and the
significance he gives to it.

But when the camera is used to show us all over again that
if you drive one car into another at sixty miles an hour there
will be an accident, (see — or rather, take for granted — Mou-
lin Rouge) ; when it is used to present the banal excitements
of a cabaret or a prize fight or a racecourse or the utterly
threadbare seduction scene, in which the moving pageant
of human nature is not considered for its motion-value, for
what it can say with a gesture, but simply to force a sensation
upon us, then I am intolerably bored. At once I am conscious
of the goods being delivered for an order I never gave in a
packing-case I do not acknowledge. Not I ! They are giv-
ing me just what I want, in the preposterous belief that I
have not had it a thousand times before. On what other
grounds shall we account for the periodical panic of the film
magnates, who say that the public are tired of this and are
tired of that and must be given something new ? But :hey
give us nothing new or they give us "new" faces. That is the
shortest cut to pleasing the congenitally witless public. One
might just as well expect to feed a horse by giving it a new^
nosebag. How, I ask, can a face be new ? What man among
us will give a new shape to Adam's rib ? Non est inventus.

All this antique stuff and all this frenzy to cr}^ up any sort
of novelty to replace it, bores me to extinction. If the makers
of films want us to have something new why don't they look

CLOSE UP

to the settings and backgrounds of their films ? We should
be more entertained if most of them were scrapped. For a
film never explores a thing thoroughly but goes on to the next
thing before you have had time to see it. Even the shop-
girl mind is beginning to be bored with the specious grandeur
of the typical American interior and the acknowledged cen-
tres of movie romance — Paris, the Riviera, the South Seas,
the Front, the Wild West, the desert, the Yukon ; and for inte-
riors, the everlasting under\vor]d the ballroom, thousands of
restaurants, bar parlours, beauty parlours, board rooms, bed-
roojus, bathrooms, shacks, shops, ships, casinos and muning
camps. There they are — sign-posts to the eligible localities
of the film world. I am not surprised that the Pathe Gazette
is more interesting than man}' a feature film. It doesn't go
in for all this bookstall romance. It has some of the riches and
inspiration of life itself.

I have never seen Soho on the screen, or Southend. I have
seen Blackpool and found it highly entertaining. I have ne-
ver seen Birmingham on the screen or the packed life of Lon-
don's suburbia. I have never seen Chelsea or Bbomsbury
or Hampstead Heath, but I can remember seeing a drunken
rec 'iisrruction of the the Thames Embankment in an American
film, carried out, apparently, by a smiling pavement artist.
Yet our producers, politicians, critics and Empire-builders are
all shouting out for England to be placed on the screen. Eng-
land no doubt has a becoming modesty which yearns to be
tricked out in this misfit raiment, but if we want to see England
on the screen why don't we put it there ? What are we

CLOSE UP

waiting for ? So far as I can see, we are waiting for the
Americans to come over and show us how to do it. And
that is the whole trouble. We are afraid to depart from
the massive but stultifying film values which they have
already built up. Every film producer in the world is mort-
ally afraid of losing that Hollywood complexion, ourselves
most of all. It is a feeble and ludicrous state of affairs and
we ought to be ashamed of it.

Finally, I am bored with the music to our films — pain-
fully and insufferably bored. Not long ago when engaged in
the bitter business of film criticism, I was given the task of
finding out exactly what our directors of film music thought
about its development and future. I now know that they
thought nothing at all. As a result, films are being accompa-
nied by exactly the same music to-day as they were five years
ago. "Ramona", shown at the New Gallery a short time ago,
is an example of what I mean. I do not know what was written
on the cue sheets, but I know that I had heard it all fifty times
before. And I was bored. Contrary to professional prac-
tice, I nearly always pay for my boredom at pictures for the
pleasure of sapng afterwards that I was bored). We have not
began to take film music seriously yet, or to treat it as an orga-^
nic part of picture production. We instal vast organs in our
cinemas, capable of producing the most excruciating sounds
imaginable, but these effects take one's attention away from
the film into a quite different world of noise. That they also
produce music goes without saying, but none of it has any lo-^
gical place in the score, and the construction of the score is

CLOSE UP

still a thing apart from the construction of the film. It is all
done afterwards by the musical director, who sits before the
film with a little note-book while it is exhibited ''cold", and
as its storj' unfolds he wraps up the bits in their appropriate
musical ganiient. He has done this so many times now that
the innumerable strips torn from Massenet, Saint-Saens, Gou-
nod, Sterndale Bennett, Elgar, Mendelssohn, Gershwin, Da-
re wski, Wagner and Lehar — yes, they are all side by side in a
line and would stretch from St. Paul's to Knightsbridge — are
recalled by heart and instantty applied to the alternating moods
of the film. The music is held together by a theme, which the
musical director will himself compose this afternoon if he
has time, and if not he will look up some other theme. In
this way, all oar film music which does not come from Ameri-
ca, is made to measure over here and sent carriage paid to
exhibitors in the provinces.

I make no criticism just now^ of the technique employed, but
I say that its conventions are much too plausible and its mate-
rial utterly hackneyed, and that the whole thing is so unins-
piring and antiquated that I am bored.

There are many other matters which make for boredom on
the screen — ^the lack of character in British films for example,
the myth about the shortage of stories, the nonsense about
films for the Empire and so on. But I am beginning to lose
my boredom now and developing an active rage, and this is
beyond our terms of reference. Perhaps i /2 at the local cine-
ma will put matters right.

Ernest Betts.

CLOSE UP

SCENES D'EXTERIEURS AU STUDIO

J'ignore au juste quand la premiere scene d'exterieur fut
tournee dans un atelier, mais ce jour-la me parait devoir etre
signale comme une sombre date dans les annales du cinema. Je
^ais essayer de vous montrer les fautes que cette innovation
^ngendra et, en particulier, celles que Tavenir ne manquera
pas de reveler. (Ne croyez pas que je veuille me faire passer
pour prophete dans le domaine encore si vague de Testhetique
cinematographique, mais cependant les exemples qui m'ont ete
fournis par diverses personnalites eminentes du film m'incitent
a penser que ces prises de vue sont loin de vouloir cesser. II
est notoire, du reste, qu'on ne rencontre en aucun art autant
d'imitateurs qu'au cinema).

Un film ne pent cacher son age a nos yeux car nous recon-
naissons de suite son anciennete a la quasi impossibilite du
^este, a rimmobilite ennuyeuse et presque intolerable du ca-
mera, ainsi qua la pauvrete de la decoration et de Teclaira-
ge. Mais les scenes d'exterieur rachetaient en partie, dans les
premiers films, les defauts signales. Toute proportion gardee,
on peut dire que ces scenes etaient bonnes. (Nous voyons si sou-
vent, de nos jours, des exterieurs qui ne sont gaere meiUeurs
ni plus interessants) .

Uon perfectionna done Tatelier ; Teclairage devint par-

Ten Days that Shook the World

E^ve Francis in V hwndation by Lucien Delluc. vSimple and
straight. . . .one of the best French films. It was revived at the
Cine I<atin this Spring.

A new standard in British film production. The designs of Hugh
Gee for Tesha, Burlington film, directed by V. vSavile. Mr. Gee
uses inverted lighting to bring out the angles of his otherwise

plain walls.

Photos : E. Cyril Slan borough

Mr. Gee in his designs, aims at unobtrusive spaciousness and a
modernity in so far that he does not beHeve in repeating old
formulae. At the same time he avoids the "modernism" of the
commercial French sets.

(The Symphony of a City) Walter Ruttmann's
film using neither actors nor sets.

c ^
V o

o Z

o o
B

B ^

:5 ^

' o

-Si
Si

Two close-ups of Joseph Marievsky in Robert Florey's latest
impressionistic production The Love of Zero, which cost two
hundred dollars.
Photos exclusive to CLOSE UP

"Machine Street" and an impression of •'The Street", being
scenes in Robert Florey's Love of Zero, starring Joseph Marievsky,

The celebrated " rocket" car. Photographs taken et the first
trial run in Berlin. From the left at top, Fritz Lang, Thea von
Harbou, Fritz von Opel, who drove it, and LiHan Harvey.
Below, the car with Lilian Harvey.

Photos : UFA

CLOSE UP

tie integrante de la technique du film, forniiile mathematique
presque ; des decouvertes coinme le precede Schueftan don-
nerent aux regisseurs des possibilites de developpemnet infi-
nies. Cette evolution si heureuse autorisa de seduisantes pers-
pectives et Ton pensa alors a monter au studio le paysage et la
rue, en un mot, a y tourner la nature toute entiere.

II est aise de saisir les avantages de cette innovation. Tout
d'abord, il ne sera plus necessaire d'attendre que le soleil se
montre puisqu'on pent le produire soi-meme, mieux que natu-
re, a grand renfort de lampes Jupiter (penserent les regisseurs
et directeurs de compagnies). Et puis Feconoiriie de temps et
d'argent est appreciable au point de vue industriel. Les in-
convenients multiples qu'entraine une prise de vue en plein
air : foule habituelle de curieux troublant le jeu des acteurs,
autorisations qu'il faut obtenir des autorites, etc, sont en effet
indeniables. Le nouveau procede les supprime completement
et facilite de ce fait grandement la tache du realisateur. (A
cet egard, je m'imagine sans peine que la scene des idiots du
film (( En Rade )> de Cavalcanti, tourne dans les rues de Mar-
seille, dut presenter d'innombrables difficukes au regisseur
ainsi qu'aux deux acteurs Heriat et Nathalie Lissenko. Mais si
Ton avait tourne cette scene au studio elle aurait certaine-
ment perdu les trois-quarts de sa valeur).

On pourrait egalement avancer qu'au point le vue purement
esthetique, la tentative de creer, par des ni )yens artificiels,
une nature plus artistique qu'elle n'est scuvent en realite,
semble interessante. Cette maniere de penser pent seduire un
cerveau d'artiste ; ce n'en est pas moins, malgre tout, un so-

CLOSE UP

phisme. On confond en raisonnant de la sorte, artistique avec
artificiel et Ton oublie qu'un atelier si bien illumine soit-il
par des naoj^ens techniques artificiels ne saurait jamais egaler
un mileu en plein air, sous Tauthentique lumiere du soleil,
L'atmosphere exterieure se fait sentir dans toute photogra-
phies de film et ces prises de vue au studio sentent le renferme
car il leur manque la pulsation propre de la nature.

Sans doute la stylisation trouve son excuse dans Tart. Ne
perdons pas de vue cependant que le film, qui n'est pas a la
verite une pure forme de Tart, mais une manifestcttion essen-
tiellement animee de vie (vita ipsa, dirait le celebre prophete
du cinema, Pierre Altebberg), sinon aujourd'hui, du m-oins
dans un avenir prochain, ne pent accorder trop de place a la
stylisation s'il ne veut perdre sa chaleur et sa force naturelle.
Les experiences nouvelles sont toujours les bienvenues car
ce sont elles qui assurent le perfectionnement technique du
film, seulement ce ne sont que des experiences, ne Toublions
pas.

Les films americains tournes recemment empruntent consi-
derablement aux moyens techniques artificiels et nous mon-
trent jastement cette tendance d'exterieurs au studio sous son
jour le plus alarment. (( L'Aurore » de Murnau est bien le pro-
totype de ce genre et il f aut considerer cette bande uniquement
comme un essai car en tant que film, c'est manque. Si le spec-
tateur y admire en effet la maitrise technique du realisateur, iJ
n'est jamais ebranle toutefois. L'athmospere suffocant e des
exterieurs tournes en atelier tue irresistiblement toute sen-
sation delicate et ne pent creer cet accent de verite humaine

CLOSE UP

qui se saisit de nous comme la vie elle-meme. ' Nous avons vu
la grandiose exhibition du maitre et sortons de la salle desap-
pointes quand meme.

Le meme defaut se revele, bien que dans une plus faible
mesure, dans « Therese Raquin » de Jacques Feyder ou la scene
de la noyade en mer, si elle avait ete tournee a la clarte na-
turelle aurait gagne en emotivite et puissance par le contras-
te saisissant offert par la nature inondee de lumiere et de force
vis a vis des autres plans plus sombres et definis..

II ne s'ensuit pas de la que toute scene exterieure, sans
exception, doive etre tournee a la lumiere naturelle. Ce qu'il
faut eviter surtout c'est d'appliquer a tort les moyens tech-
niques de Tatelier afin de ne pas enlever au film Tatmosphere
qui lui est necessaire et dont il ne saurait se passer. Nous
pourrions interpreter comme un signe de decadence le fait de
preferer a la banale vision de la nature simple et sans appret,
qui n'eveille plus assez en nous le sentiment artistique, une
representation oil se mele volontairement Tinfluence d'un cer-
veau imaginatif . Ne negligeons pas cependant la merveilleuse
energie latente qui se degage d/une image a laquelle le soleil
et le vent conf erent f raicheur et j eunesse et ne nous refusons
pas ]a jouissance visuelle que seule pent nous donner une pho-
tographic animee fidele au rythme de la vie.

Si le film n'est plus, a Tavenir, impregne de cette authen-
tique essence de vie et de mobilite naturelle, qu'il devient la
creation technique exclusive d'un esprit scientifique, nous
courrons alors le risque d'une lente asphyxie qui, en diminuant
sans cessez Tespace de ] 'action, conduira infailliblement a une

CLOSE UP

decheance precoce et au suicide de I'art muet. Ce n'est pas la
pourtant le but entrevu par ceux qui ont precede aux essais
dont nous venous de parler.

Jean Lenauer.

CONTINUOUS PERFORMANCE

XII

THE CINEMA IX ARCADY

Hedge-toppsd banks form a breezeless corridor upon whose
floor, white with dust, the sun beats down. Dust films the
edges and mo3t of the flowering things that brought forget-
fulness of the hidden distances have fled. We trudged avert-
ed from beauty dsfaced, hearing bird-song in the unspoiled
Madges of fresh invisible fields and watching for the bend of the
long lane and the reward : shelter or high trees that there
begia their descending march and, for our shaded eyes, the
view of the little grey harbour town at our feet screened by
misty tree-tops of spring, the wide estuary beyond it, sapphire
backed by golden sand-dunes, miniatures of the tors standing
in distant amber light along the horizon. The bend came and
th3 twin poplars thit frame the prospect for which our wait-

CLOSE UP

ing eyes were raised ; to see, fastened from trunk to trunk an
obliterating sign-board : Ccme to the Pictures.

Jealously the 3^ear before we had resented the walls of the
small palace rising in unearthly whiteness at the angle of a grey
ramshackle by-street. iVnd even while we knew that what we
were resenting was the invasion of our retreat by any kind
of culture and even while we were moved by the thought of the
marvels about to appear before the astonished eyes of villagers
and fisherfolk, we still had our doubts. And this placard de-
facing the loveliest view in the neighbourhood seemed sym-
bolically to confirm them. We doubted because we had found
in these people a curious completeness ; wisdom, and a strange
sophisticated self-sufiiciency. We told ourselves that they
were an ancient aristocratic people and made romantic ge-
neralisations ffrom every scrap of favourable evidence. And
though it may perhaps fairly be claimed that these lively, life-
educated people of the coast villages and fishing stations do not
need, as do the relatively isolated people of crowded towns,
the socialising influence of the cinema, we were obliged in the
end to admit that our objections were indefensible.

There, at any rate, the cinema presently was. We ignored
and succeeded in forgetting it until the placard appeared and
in imagination we saw an epidemic of placards, in ancient ham-
lets, in meadows, on cliffsides and we went forth to battle.
We battled for months for the restoration of the hillside lands-
cape. In vain. Urban district councillors were sympathe-
tic and dubious. The villagers w^ere for living and letting live
and the harbour towns-folk would not come out against a fel-

CLOSE UP

low townsman. Generally our wrathful sorrow provoked a
mild amusement. The placard was regarded as a homely
harmless affair as inoffensive as a neighour's out hung wash-
ing, except by those few who were voluble in execration of the
cinema and all its works. From these we collected evidence
recalling the recorded depredations of strong drink amongst pri-
mitive peoples. Crediting all we heard we should see the entire
youthful population of the parish, and man}' of the middle-
aged, centred upon the pictures, living for them. We heard
of youths and maidens once frugal, homely and dutiful, who
now squander their earnings not only twice weekly when the
picture is changed, but nightly. Of debt. Of tradesmen's
bills that mount and mount unpaid as never before. The prize
story is of a one-time solid matron now so demoralised that
rather than miss a picture she will obtain groceries on credit
and sell of them to her neighbours.

It is clear that down here amongst these full-living hard-
working lansdpeople the enchatment has worked at least as
potently as in the towns. And reflection suggests an ex-
planation that would apply equally to almost any rural dis-
trict where life is lived all the year round in the open or be-
tween transparent walls, lived from birth to death in the white
light of a publicity for which towns can offer no parallel. Dra-
ma is continuous. No day passes without bringing to some
group or member of the large scattered family a happening
more or less shared by everyone else and fruitful of eloquence.
Speech is relatively continuous. Solitude almost unknown.
And these people have turned to the pictures as members of a

CLOSE UP

family who know each other by heart will turn to the visi-
tor who brings the breath of otherness. And whereas in the
towns those who frequent the cinema may obtain together
with its other gifts admission to a generalized social hf e, a thing
unknown in slum and tenement, lodging-house and the smal-
ler and poorer villadom, these people of village and hamlet,
already socially educated and having always before their eyes
the spectacle of life in the raw throughout its entire length, the
assemblage of every kind of human felicity and tribulation,
find in the cinema together with all else it has to offer them,
their only escape from ceaseless association, their only soli-
tude, the solitude that is said to be possible only in cities. They
become for a while citizens of a world whose every face is that
of a stranger. The mere sight of these unknown people is
refreshment. And the central figures of romance are heaven-
born, are the onlookers as they are to themselves, heroes and
heroines unknown to their neighbours. To cease for a mo-
ment to be just John or Mary carrying about with you wherever
you go your whole known record, to be oblivious of the scene
upon which your Uf e is lived and your future unalterably cast,
is to enter into your own eternity.

It is not possible perfectly to disentangle from that of the
wrireless, the popular newspaper and the gramophone, the
influence of the cinema in rural districts. Certain things how-
•ever, emerge more or less clearly. There is for example no evid-
ence, at any rate down here in the west, of any increased desire
for town life. Rather the contrary, for the prestige of that hfe
lias suffered more than a little as a result of realistic represen-

CLOSE UP

tation and the strongest communicable impression whe-
ther of London, New York or other large city — all much of a
muchness and equally remote, though not more so than Ply-
mouth— is that of insecurity. Neither in railway station, ho-
tel, or crowded street is either money or life for a single mo-
ment free from risk. And the undenied charm of the Far
West is similarly overshadowed : you must be prepared either
to shoot or to be shot. And although condemnation goes
hand in hand with envy of the apparently limitless possibili-
ties of acquisition and independance, the vote on the whole
goes steadily for the civilisation and safety of rural conditions.

Melodrama and farcical comedy are prime favourites and an
intensity of interest centres about the gazette, the pictures of
what is actualh' going on in various parts of the world. That
there is alwa\^s something worth seeing and that the music is
''lovely" is almost universal testimony. It is probable that
the desire for perpetual cinema will presently abate. A year
of constant film-seeing is not overmuch for those without thea-
tre, music-hall or any kind of large scale public entertaine-
ment. Meantime one clearly visible incidental result of this
intensive cultivation is to be noted : these people, and parti-
cularty the younger generation, have no longer quite the local
quality they had even a year ago. They are amplified, aware
of resources whose extent is unknown to them and have a joyful
half-conscious preoccupation with this new world that has been
brought into their midst, a preoccupation that on the whole^
and if one excludes the weaklings who would in any case be
the prey of desirable or undesirable external forces, serves ta

CLOSE UP

enhance the daily life. They no longer for one reason and
another, amongst which the cinema is indisputably the fore-
most, it to their local lives as closely as of yore. Evidence of
this change is to be found even in their bearing. The "yokel"
is less of a lout than he was wont to be and the dairj^Tnaid even
on workdays is indistinguishable from her urban counterpart.
And though doubtless something is lost and the lyric poet is
shedding many an unavailing tear, much undeniably is gained.
These youths and maidens in becoming world citizens, in
getting into communication with the unknown, become alsa
recruits available, as their earth and-cottage-bound forbears
never could have been for the world-wide conversations now
increasingly upon us in which the cinema may play, amongst
its numerous other roles, so powerful a part.

Dorothy M. Richardson.

NOTES

Le Cinema gobe-mouches cree les heros a forfait et punit in-
lassablement les mechants. Entre ces deux categories il n'y a
place pour personne. . . pas meme pour les neutres que nous
sommes tons.

★

CLOSE UP

Actrices capiteuses ! De rAmour ! de la Beaute ! de TArt !
Comment ne mordrais-tu pas a rhamecon dore, mon frere !

Tel ecrivain, pour s'exprimer de facon originale et trancher
avec le reste des mortels, aura recours aux barbarismes, a la
erudite des propos ou aux expressions ramassees en forme de
bombes... aussi verrons-nous, et peut-etre avons-nous vu deja,
des ecrans barbouilles de visions saugrenues, symboles d'un art
jaouveau etd'un nouvel agent tres actif d'hyperemie cerebrale.

La vie que cree le cinema est certainement plus agreable que
celle dont nous nous contentons. D'abord ne voyons-nous pas
qu'elle commence a i8 ans et se termine a 30 presque invaiia-
blement, stabilisant chacun, de la sorte, a une epoque avan-
tageuse de Texistence. Une sante de fer pour tons. Jamais le
moindre rhume, car nous n'apercevons pas trace de mouchoirs.
Outre cela, une temperature constante et par la exemption
generale de toute sensation extreme du froid ou du chaud.
Mieux encore, personne n^est astreint a travailler, chacun a son
p)etit home a soi, recoit, sort et se promene a loisir, il n'est meme
plus besoin de sortir son gousset car les cheques remplacent la
menue monnaie. Pour un rien, n'importe qui sortira son petit
camet a souches et vous tendra avec un sourire enchante le
petit billet que vous soUicitez.

Encore un privilege unique qui n'est pas le notre, helas ; Tab-
sence de ce facheux fabricant d' ennuis qui est le hasard. Bien

CLOSE UP

:inieux, tout est prevu, arrange, calcule avec soin et dnssiez-
yous etre tentes de vous jeter a Teau ou de vous etendre sur la
voie du chemin de f er, a n importe quelle heure et n'importe ou
-soyez certains que les choses s'arrangeront pour le mieux et
qu'il se trouvera la, Mesdames, un chevalier errant qui vous
auvera la vie en capturant du meme coup votre coeur. Nous
■sommes bien^loin, n'est-ce pas, des realites brutales denotre
monde terrestre !

Encore une petite particularite qui ne vous aura pas echappe
les 24 heures cinematographiques comprennent deux phases
bien distinctes : le jour, aveuglant, ensoleille, et la nuit, opa-
que, d'un noir d'encre a copier. L'aube et le crepuscule sont
•deux stades de transition qui nous appartiennent en propre.
II en est de meme du dimanche qui, chez nous, differe sensible-
inent des autres jours. La-haut il n'y a pas de dimanche, ou pour
mieux dire, ce ne sont que journees endimanchees.

Freddy Che valley.

II I

BRITISH
SCENARIOS IN PARTICULAR

Have you ever noticed them ? Soiled, creased, lumpy,
-threadbare, the carpets in British films. Smooth out the crea-

CLO'SE UP

ses, nail down the carpet, and you may disguise the fact that
it has just been dragged from the property department and
unrolled on the studio floor. But why worn.', it is onh' a Bri-
tish picture, a quota picture I The quota, a drig which has
lulled the executive staff into apathy — the exhibitor must buj^ I
As the carpets so the plots. Lifted from the dusty shelves of
the scenario editor's office and bundled into the picture with-
out any of the wrinkles smoothed or the stains removed.

The press are fond of calling these transpontine pictures,
"machine-made" melodrama. "Machine-made", a favour-
ite cliche which gives the whole secret of the British scena-
rist to the British public ; most of these stories are actually
made with a machine — a plot machine 1 Xo, I am not joking,
and if you think of some recent British pictures you will be
grateful that in some cases, at least, it is a machine, and not a
man, which has fallen so low. (As examples of recent Bri-
tish pictures shown to the trade I might mention "Silver Li-
ning", "Remembrance", and "Tommy Aktins"). Naturally
the machine is not very ingenious but it is reverently placed
on the desks of many highly paid British script manufactu-
rers.

x\ plot machine is made by dismantling a calendar, one of the
kind that are known as "perpetual calendars". You twiddle
a knob and the day of the week revolves on a roller behind a
slit in the cardboard front ; another knob gives the month ;
while the date is printed on a strip of material which runs be-
tween to other rollers. A piece of clean paper is pasted round
the existing rollers, and new rollers made ; also a fresh card-

CLOSE UP

board front is cut out so that each roller will have a separate
slit. Then each roller is devoted to some ingredient of the
plot. Supposing one roller is given to "Incidents", instead of
harmless months or days, it would be filled in with a list of
cinematic happenings ; shipwreck, train collision, parachute
descent, fire, flood, earthquake, tidal wave, (for such is the
'movie' mind). Another might be given to "Character"
coward, thief, drug-taker, sex-maniac, murderer, red-headed
momma. And so on thoughout the weary list.

The gentleman, whose name features so prominently on the
subtitles, takes the plot machine and turns its face to the wall,
operates the knobs and trusts that resulting combination will
inspire him to contribute to the great cause of bigger and better
"mov^ies". If he can construct no box-oflice patchwork from
subtly suggestive groupings, such as "coward" and "fire", he
tries again.

Maybe a gifted psycho-analyst could turn the simple toy
into something quite sophisticated, but can you wonder at the
childishness of British screen-plays when they are fashioned
round such jejune scaffolding ?

The delight of the British scenarist knows no bounds when
he does it on an idea of his own. In his childlike simplicity
he hastens to tell us all about it. We see it in the long shot ;
it is emphasized in an extra large close-up ; ringed round with
irises, vignettes, and cut-offs. The poor chap is determined
that we shall not miss the full import of his masterstroke, and
we become so sickened that w^e repeat with the music-hall come-
dian ; "Even if that was good I wouldn't like it". Whereas

CLOSE UR

mediocre pictures like ''The Trial of Donald Westhof become
interesting because good ideas are used in the long shots with-
out fussy elaboration. The obvious conclusion is that the
Continental scenarist is more fecund.

In England nothing must be left to the imagination of the
public. After quick cutting a faint uncertainty as to what is
happ3ning is ths more pD .verfal factor in holding the attention
of an audience. I wojld like to do a film in which there was
only one set, the corridor in an hotel, and from the actions of
my characters in the corridor suggest the dramas which were
being enacted in the different rooms. Against it I am compel-
led to say that the subject is rather 'filmish' ; I mean there
would probably be a murder in one room, adultery in another;
in fact it looks a? if the idea was corrupted by too close an asso-
ciation with British Studios ani plot machines. At any rate
it would be an exercise in imagination to visualize the inner man
behind the closed doors, from a glimpse of the outer man, cons-
cious in the corridor of the possible scrutiny of others.

The first steps toward perceptional education is to abohsh
the sphtting of long or medium shots. Let me give an exam-
ple from a recent Continental film. A beautiful lady, of breed-
ing and refinement, triumphs over her 'rival. We are shown
a medium shot of her, too well-bred to laugh or betray the
slighest exaltation ; but her maid, in the background, cannot
restrain a rapturous grin. Presented in one scene it is an idea.
Spilt the scene into two close-ups and it is laboured.

All this is elementary compared vath the dramatic signi-
ficance of the size of some shots. As I have hinted, the Bri-

CLOSE UP

tish scenarist sorts out his sizes for reasons of stress, if he has a
bright idea of his own, or banal exploitation of some star's fea-
tures. He cannot realize the importance of size or he would
have evolved a more elaborate s\^^stem for his script, as the
ordinarv^ British script of to-day contains but four classifi-
cations : long shot, medium long shot, medium close-up, and
close-up. There should be the twice as mams arranged accord-
ing to where they cut on the actors ; large head, knees upward^'.:
figure with floor, etc.

I feel that letters from indignant readers are imminent who
\\ill accuse me of being spiteful yet once again about the Bri- '
tish film. Well let them endure "Silver Lining", '*Remem~:
brance", and "Tommy Atkins."

OSWELL BlAKESTOX.

Mr. OGILVIE ; AN INTERVIEW

I have frequently said what I thought about London pro-
grammes, indeed I have never missed an apportunit}' to com-
plain, so it is only fair I should be one of the first to put on
record Mr. Ogilvie's efforts at the Avenue Pavilion in Lon-
don.

Mr. Ogilvie is the manager of this cinema in Shaftesbury

CLOSE UP

Avenue and he is appointed by his firm, Gaumont-British ;
he has therefore to earn his hving, and make the cinema pay.
He is not a free agent, he is not a rich man determined to put
his money into showing as many good films as he can while
the mony lasts, and he has no financial backing. From first
to last he is a business man, and he shows films because it is
his job. But he has found that, even in London, it is just as
possible to show good films as bad, and that good films pay,
once censors and customs officials can be placated. He has deci-
ded to let London have something approaching the Ursuli-
nes, and the way he has set about it, because he is a business
man, is interesting.

He did not say "Here is an Ursulines, come along and see
exotic films", and make a gallant stand against the indiffe-
rence such a statement would have caused among his patrons.
He first showed his patrons several good films and saw how
they liked them. They did like them, and so did others who
heard there was a film one could enjoy at the Avenue Pavilion.
He thus made sure of his regular audience, and added to it.
Ivan Moskvin's The Postmaster was shown, so were Impetuous
Youth and Jeanne Ney. Jeanne Ney was such a success that
Mr. Ogilvie wishes to put it on again, but cannot until it has
teen generally released. Vaudeville was put on for a week.
Although it had been on in the West End during the winter,
it proved so popular that it w^as kept on for two. As I write,
Grune's The Street is runrjing, to be follow^ed by The Nihel-
ungs.

It is one of the great fallacies, encouraged by men of h-

CLOSE UP

mited outlook and by stunted artists themselves, that people
don't like good pictures. They do, if not always for the
same reasons that you or I do. The}^ don't like dis-
honest pictures, or pretentious, ''arty" ones. I have recently
seen an audience restless before the trickeries of Gance's
Napoleon when they took quietly, with appreciation, the real
audacities of Dreyer in La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc, a film
that, incidentally, has made a tremendous profit. People
like good pictures, when they can get them, and it is not al-
ways the managers' fault that they can't. Mr. Ogilvie's
greatest difficulty is not the public, but the man who looks
after the public, the censor. This institute of inhibtion has
banned La Tragedie de la Rue and Joyless Street for pubHc
exhibition. The film Society gave this latter film once, but
it was cut in such a way that when I saw it later in Brussels,
I saw almost another film, neither version being the correct
one of Pabst.

The duties, again, are extremely high, and so against a man
bringing in foreign films of any but the most obvious general
appeal. It cost altogether €150 when Waxworks was first brought
into the country, Mr. Ogilvie told me. This is a lot for a
manager to risk, as Mr. Ogilvie would have to risk it. Sixty
pounds, he said, w^as all very well. One could show the film
for a fortnight and lose nothing, but it would need a run of a
month to pay for such a duty on a film. It is not that the public
do not respond (while I was there, each time, the telephone
rang constantly. . . . Six seats. . . . Four seats. . .what time
does the film come on. . . .) but simply that these duties are

CLOSE UP

placed above the public's capacity to refund the manager.

Foreign firms, too, have got so used to the type of Aafa
comedy that is wanted, to the "EngHsh versions'' that have
to be prepared, that they are chary of sending over their best
or their better, work. But Mr. Ogilvie has plans, and he
has confidence. There are people looking abroad for the films
he wants, and there is the public waiting at home to see them.
It is an interesting public . The Avenue Pavilion is in what used
to be called theatr eland, and it is also in Soho. Waiters and
chauffeurs and factory-girls have long gone there, and the}^
continue to. But cars begin to drive up, and people in din-
ner-jackets get out. The prices are not high, the theatre is
comfortable, and it is easy to get to. There are all these
auxiliary reasons for its success, and also it is not snobbish.
The cinema has not been painted orange and black since the
experiment was made, there is no air that you are assisting at
something rather extraordinary in seeing good films. There
is nothing to tell it from an ordinar\^ London cinema, save
that there are no prologues and that the pictures are w^orth
seeing.

' People are often writing to me and sa^dng that they like
good movies, but whenever they go in London, the atmosphere
is so ''precious", that they are put off. Well, here is the cine-
ma for them, and for most other people. There is nothing of
the Phoenix Society or Everyman about it.

]\Ir. Ogilvie himself is not one of those ''enthusiasts" who
talk about the blacks and whites. The whole time I talked to
him, I never heard him use the word ''art". He talked only

CLOSE UP

of good films, and he seemed to know what a good film is.
And also what a film is not, a photographed play, like The Vor-
tex to use his own instance, with the story told by the subtitles
and the actors suiting the action to the w^ords. He is against
talking films, too. In fact, there is quite a lot of hope about
the Avenue Pavilion, a popular cinema in the heart of Lon-
don, where one should soon be able to be sure there will be
something on worth seeing. It deserves support, and the
more continuous support it gets, the better movies it will be
able to show. We hope it may flourish as it has begun, and
that the censor wil) even see that are a number of people in
England who take their films seriously, and that their needs
are served by a young manager doing his best, despite foolish
rules.

Copies of Kean and of W^^'^i'^g Shadows have been found,
but they are in such bad condition, that it is doubtful if they
can be shown. Other films it is proposed to show are Stro-
heim's Greed and Merry Widow, The Birth of a Nation, Trilhy,
The Marriage Circle and also Lady Windermere's Fan of Lubi-
tsch, / Will Repay with Asta Nielsen, The Student of Prague,
The Marriage of the Bear and if possible Voyage au Congo. Not
all these are of equal merit, but they accord with Mr. Ogil-
vie's policy of showing only films that would not be seen
elsewhere. At present, the second features are the general
releases ; these afford an opportunity of contrast, but it is plan-
ned to replace these in time with old comics and with travel
and ''interest" films.

It would be trite to say that Mr, Ogilvie is doing good. One

CLOSE UP

can see the effect he is having, even though most managers
think him mad, by the fuss the trade papers are making over
the banning of Potemkin, Cinema is enquiring how long the
pubhc are to be dependent for their films on "the artistic
mediocrity of casual councillors" which is not bad for a trade
paper. A monthly programme is issued by The Avenue,
which can be obtained on demand, and Mr. Ogilvie earnestly
asks for any suggestions anj'one may have of films it would
be interesting to get hold of.

R. H.

COMMENT AND REVIEW

Regrettably the stills from early films which we were try-
ing to procure for this month's Close Up have not been forth-
coming yet, and w^e are unable to give them in our supplement.
We hope to be able to print them in the August issue.

★

A German-Spanish film,

A Spanish director, Benito Perojo together with Gustav Uci-
eky is now making for Emelka a film of the South, entitled

CLOSE UP

Herzen ohne Ziel (Aimless Hearts) from the Spanish romance
by Thilde Forster. Spring in Spain is the season, and lovers
of this country are promised some lovely scenery. The cast
includes Hanna Ralph, Betty Byrd, Livio Pavanelli, Imperio
Argentina and Valentino Parera. Exteriors have aires dy been
began in Madrid. Barcelona, Biarritz, San Sebastian and other
places will feature. The cameraman is Franz Koch.

Max Glass Production is now making Unfug der Liehe, direct-
ed by Robert Wiene, and starring Maria Jacobini. The sce-
nario is from the story by Alexander Ferenczy. Other mem-
bers of the cast are Jack Trevor, Angelo Ferrari, Betty Astor,
Ferry Sikla, Oreste Bilancia and Willy Forst.

Kurt Bernhardt (director of Schinderhannes) will direct a
film for Terra entitled FrUhlingserwachen (Spring s Awaken-
ing). Production will begin in September.

Karl Grune will direct Die Frau, nach der man sick sehfit
(The Desired Woman) also for Terra. From the romance of
Max Brod.

Alfred Hugenberg, Ufa's great man, and Mussolini, Italy's
great man have made an agreement to w^ork hand in hand in
the making of propagandistic films. Somehow they w^ould !
The actual agreement is between Ufa and the Instituo Nazion
ale Luce. Fullest facilities are to be exchanged, and it is

CLOSE UP

expected that Italian films will have a recrudescence. Re-
member Messalina ? Ufa is to train Italian technicians and
to exploit Italian films wherever it expoits its own. German
nationalist picture making can in return more or less have the
run: of Italy. In the words of the popular song, "How d'you
like it?"

Italian films, therefore, will be propagandistic on a wide
scale. We take the liberty of quoting from the Observer of
June 17. "As is well known, the policy of the Ufa Company
in Germany is largely directed by the Nationalist magnate
Alfred Hugenberg, whose influence in the topical news sec-
tion is paramount. (Not exclusive however, as Emelka run
pretty close with their Emelka Woche. Ed.) It is this news
section which is regarded as more important in its general
tendency than the big films whose story is so largely dependant
upon "production values". These would seldom include as
main theme the glorification of a Communist hero, or the happy
home life of a Socialist family. But a resolute determination
to boycott all topical films taken of strikes and demonstra-
tions, parades inspected by generals and expensive sporting
contests in the cinemas controlled by those who believe La-
bour should be kept in its place is a powerful propagandist
weapon."

The article goes on to point out that instructional films,
which can contain no political bias, will also play an impor-
tant part in the exchange.

* -

CLOSE UP

The End of St. Petersbourg, Pudowkin's wonderful epic of
the Russian Revolution, has had a great success in Xew York.
It will be remembered that this film, together with Mother
.and Ten Days that Shook the World were taken back by Arthur
Hammerstein. It is just as well to balance the sugar coated
pro-Imperialist, "Russians are fiends" attitude with a state-
ment of fact, no matter what the political feelings of the au-
dience.

PRODUCTION LIST FOR TERRA FILIYI

DAS PRODUKTIONS — & VERLEIK — PROGRAMM DER TERRA

Saison 1928/29

Direcktor Morawsky hat fur die Saison 1928-29 ein um-
iangreiches Produktions-und Verleih-Programm ausgearbeitet,
das 20 Filme umfasst. Es ist ein Programm der Xamen, ein
Programm der Oualitat. Autoren von Weltruf, die erfol-
greichsten Regisseure, und die beliebtesten Darsteller bilden
ein Arbeits-Kollektiv so hohen Ranges, dass der Terra nicht
nur eine Erfolg-Saison in Deutschland sicher ist, sondem auch
■ein starker Absatz der Terra-Filme im Ausland zu gewartigen
steht. Eine grosse Unterstiitzung wird hierbei die Auswahl
der Sujets bieten, die dem Produktionsprogramm Zugkraft
und Abwechslung verleihen.

Von den Themen, die im Programm der Terra erscheinen,
sind besonders interessant :

CLOSE UP

Revolutionshochzeit von Sophus Michaelis (Regiebuch Nor-
bert Falk u. Robert Liebmann).

Wedekinds :
Friihlingserwachen

Stendhal mit seinem Roman

(( Rouge et noir )>, der unter dem Titel ;
Der geheime. Kurier von Curt I. Braun und Walter
Jonas als Terra-Greenbaum-Film bearbeitet wird.

Von Hans Milller, dem Autor der « Flamme » zunachst ein
Thema :

Das hrennende Herz, das Ludwig Berger fiir Mady Christians
inszeniert.

Alfred Capus bekanntes Lustspiel :
Leontines Ehemdnner, und

Unfug der Liehe, nach dem Roman von Alexander Castel, die
Max Glass fiir den Film bearbeitet hat.

Die bekannte Operette :
Fine Frau von Format

ein grosser Abenteurerfilm

Hotel Babylon, nach dem Roman von Arnold Bennett und

von dem bekannten Autor Max Brod.

Die Frau, nach der man sich sehnt.

CLOSE UP

LIST OF DIRECTORS

Die Regisseur — Liste weist stattliche Namen auf . Unter
anderen seien besonders erwahnt :

LuDWiG Berger, Kurt Bernhard, Karl Grune, Lupu
Pick, Gennaro Righelli, A. W. Sandberg, Robert Wiene
und Fritz Wendhausen.

Die Darsteller-Liste des Terra-Programms ist so zahlreich,
dass nur einige Stars genannt werden konnen :

Mady christians und Grete Mosheim
die ausschltessltch fur die Terra arbeiten,
ferner

Karina Bell, Anita Dorris, Lilian Harvey, Maria Jacobini
Diana Karenne, Claire Rommer und Suzy Vernon.

Von der Mannern vor allem :

IWAN MOSJUKIN GOSTA EkMANN

die ja beide Welstars sind, weiterhin

Georg Alexander, Fritz Kortner, Peter C. Leska, Wal-
THER RiLLA, Hans Thiming und Jack Trevor.

Das Terra-Prohgramm ist in einer Zusammenstellung ein
einheitliches Ganzes, und diirfte nicht nur im Inlande, son-
dern auch im Auslande einen starken Widerhall finden.

A distinguished and gratifying list of directors, artists, and
material. The results should be of the greatest interest, and
our thanks are due to Terra for their brilliant choice.

CLOSE UP

HOLLYWOOD NOTES

HoUwood now has its little film theatre — Filmarte. Like
the Cameo, of New- York, and the Studio des Ursulines, of
Paris, Filmarte is dedicated to the showing of the exceptional,
the artistic, the experimental in celluloid production, as well
as the reviving of films of yesteryear.

The reception accorded its initial program augurs well for
its success. The Swedish film, The Golden Clon'n, with Gosta
Ekman, was its chief feature ; while Robert Florey's futu-
ristic fantasy, The Love of Zero, notable alike for its economj^
in cost of production and its bizarre treatment, provided the
special Holh^vood novelty.

: The promoter and presiding genius of Filmarte is a young
woman, Miss Regge Doran, who brings to her position as direc-
tor of the theatre an extensive managerial experience, in
addition to livety enthusiasm and enterprise.

Filmarte is Holh^vood's third attempt to establish an athe-
neum of this character. Whether the previous attempts failed
=because of a then unappreciative provincialism or because
of ultra-sophistication in matters cinematic, is a question
difficult to determine. At all events, the present venture has
got off to a good start and its future appears assured.

★

The various producing companies have completed their
schedules for the coming twelve months, and the resulting fi-

CLOSE VP

gures are of interest. A total of eight hundred pictures will
be made in Hollywood during the 1928-29 fiscal year. These
productions will involve a cost of one hundred and fifteen
million dollars and will call for the emplo3niient of twenty- five
thousand persons. The combined payroll will not be less
than a million and a half, a week.

Together the different producing companies will spend close
to seventy millions in advertising. All available mediums
will be used for this purpose, including radio. For a number
of years such advertising as was done in the magazines was
confined to trade journals devoted to the interest of exhibi-
tors ; but now, in addition, the public is being directly reached
by regular and extensive advertisment^ in the leading popular
w^eeklies.

All in all, Holh^vood looks forward to a busy year. With
a now total investment in the picture industrj^ of one billion
one hundred and twenty- five million dollars, it cannot indeed
afford to be other than busy if it is to pay dividends on this
enormous capital.

Director Murnau will divide his summer w^ork between Alas-
ka and Kansas. Scenes in one of his forthcoming pictures call
for arctic locations, while the harvest fields of the prairies are
the required mise-en-scene of another — Our Daily Bread.

Going afield for locations is perhaps unavoidable in the case
«of these two prospective pictures ; but studios, in their present

CLOSE UP

efforts to economize, are becoming steadily less inclined to
incur the expense entailed by these geographical excursions.
With the use of stage built exteriors of miniature sets, painted
backgrounds, double exposures, and trick photography, coupl-
ed with the unparalleled variety of landscape within a short
radius of Hollywood, there are but few parts of the earth that
cannot be readily and realistically duplicated for the screen.
In The King of Kings, for example, all of the Palestrinian ex-
teriors were either natural California scener}' or were built
on the stages. The impressive Garden of Gethsemane and
Calvary were both stage sets, designed by the de Mille art di-
rector.

A unique feature of Hollywood's amusement life is the film
premiere — the first night's showing of some new picture of spe-
cial note. It is a feature peculiarly and exclusively Holly-
woodian ; a spectacle wdthout its counterpart in any other com-
munity of the world.

The prices charged on one of these " first nights" range from
five to ten dollars a ticket, and the audience consists largely
of members of the film colony. The interested public for the
most part gets its enjoyment out of the affair by crowding
about the brilliantly lighted theatre entrance and gazing upon
the movie celebrities as they arrive. Many thousands w^ho
would avoid the jam on the streets, remain at home and tune
in on the broadcast by the announcer who stands before a mi-

CLOSE UP

crophone at the theatre entrance and heralds by name each
noted arrival, besides giving a brief description of the evening
apparel of the feminine stars as they step from their limousines
and pass thru the theatre courtyard. Frequently, too, these
attending stars, as well as other prominent film folks, are
induced to speak a few words of public greeting into the mi-
crophone. Within the theatre, under the direction of some
Hollywood notable acting as master of ceremonies, the showing
of the film is preceded by a special program of speeches or
smiling bows from the personages connected with the picture.
And altogether the affair is one to gladden the hearts of the
publicity-loving film colonists and the hero-worshiping onlook-
ers.

The recent premiere of Drums of Love was invested with
special interest, in that it was made the occasion for celebrat-
ing the twentieth year of Griffith's work as a director, as well
as extending a welcome to this his first picture made in Holly-
wood after an absence in New York of several years. Cecil
de Mille, his oldest brother director, acted as master of cere-
monies, seconded by Charlie Chaplin, and w^as applauded in
his tributes to Griffith by a brillant galaxy of Hollywood's
first-magnitude stars.

The Hollywood Association of Foreign Correspondents is
the latest of HoUjAvood's movie-born organizations. Only
recently inaugurated, it already has a list of a hundred mem-

CLOSE UP

bers — men and women serving as cinema correspondents for
newspapers and periodicals outside of the United States. Its
personnel represents more than a score of nationalities, and its
coming into being serves tangibly to emphazise the world's
interest in HoUjwood.

C. H.

NOTES

To make room for the interview with Mr. Ogilvie, received
as we were going to press, the list of films recommended by
CLOSE UP, is held over until next month. We feel that
readers of CLOSE UP will wish to have full information as to
Mr. Ogilvie's endeavour to make the Avenue Pavilion, the
Ursulines of London.

We have been delighted to receive several more letters
with regard to the formation of film societies during the past
month and at Mr. Marshall's desire, print the following noti-
fication.

Now being formed in London. Ax amateur BiiyAi saciEXY for private pro-
jection and production.

1. Protection of films not shown in England by the usual cinemas. Past
films of interest, and NEW if, and when, funds permit. Formation of film
Library.

2. Production, under technical direction, but as much original work by
members as possible.

CLOSE UP

3. Exchange of films and co-operation with other societies. And all as
economically as possible.

Write Organising Secretary :

H.P.J. Marshal. ,
51 High Road, Ilford.
London.

ENGLISH RELEASES FOR JULY

Many interesting pictures are being put on at the Avenue Pavilion, an
article on which will be found in this issue. For the rest, the most reward-
ing releases would seem to be these. It must be remembered that in many
cases these films have not been seen, and are only recommended as those
we should be most likely to take a chance on ourselves.

Out of the Mist,

Deta production, with Mady Christians and Werner Fuetterer Directed
by Fritz Wendhausen, distributed by Butcher. See notice in Close Up for
October. Warmly recommended.

The Crowd.

Directed by King Vidor. Good performances by Eleanor Boardman and
James Murray, in a film that sets out to give the soul of middle class life in
New York. Fine camera work. The story weakens at times, and this is
not the masterpiece America thinks, but it Is the American equivalent of
Berlin and Rien que les Heures. Metro-Gold wyn.

CLOSE UP

Loves Crucifixion.

German film, directed b}' Carmine Gallone, \vith Olga Tschechowa and
Hans Stuewe, W. and F. Pre-release only.

The Living Image.

A French film that should interest because it is directed b}' Marcel L'Her-
bier. Western Import. Pre-release only.

40.000 Miles with Lindbergh.

American interest film. Some beautiful shots of New York with tape
and paper streaming from skyscraper windows. The reactions of Lind-
bergh on his tour also interesting. Metro-Goldwyn.

Secrets of the Soul.

The commercial version of Pabst's analytic film is generally released,
with Werner Krauss, Ruth Weyher and Jack Trevor. Wardour. Horri-
bly cut, but worth seeing for many reasons.

The Chess Player.

The Chess Player, with Bdith Jehanne, and The Emden were on at the
end of June in Dorset, so these ma}- be found during July in the country,
where many people ^vill be.

HAVE THE WORLD'S ONLY
MOTION PICTURE NEWSPAPER
HOLLYWOOD

FILMOGRAPH

. . . Sent to You or Your
Friends^ Weekly-

Is ame

Address

State _ :

Price— §4.00 $2.00 $1 .00

Per Year 6 Months 3 Months

ADDRESS HOLLYWOOD FILMOGRAPH

5507 Santa Monica Boulevard
HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA

WHATS HAPPENING

IN AlVIERICA

along the line of visual
instruction in schools,
and in the general field of public
education, is presented in

THE EDUCATIONAL SCREEN

The only magazine in the united States specifically devoted to
the serious side of pictures.

vwvw

New thought on the subject

New productions in educational films

Current opinion on the Hollywood product

vwvw

77?^ Educational Screen is known around the zvorld

Foreign subscription price :

3.00 for one year
4.00 for two years

THE EDUCATIONAL SCREEN, 5, S. WABASH AVENUE. CHICAGO, U.S.A.

You Are
Interested
in Qood
Photog"
raphy

CAMERA CRAFT

the beautiful monthly

Covers the Whole Field of Photography

The study of essentials is necessary to enjoy photography to
the full. Camera Craft gathers beauty, facts, fundamentals
and all sorts of interesting details from all over the world to
keep its readers fully informed of what is going on.

Give yourself the monthly pleasure of reading this magazine.

As a gift it brings joy into the recipient's heart and is a
reminder, twelve times a year, of your thoughtfulness.

United States and Possessions f2M0
Canada $2,25 f Other foreign Countries $250
Sample Copy on Request

Camera Craft Publishing Company

703 MARKET STREET / SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

1/ You Are
Interested
in
Motion
Pictures

CAMERA
CRAFT

VOLKS- I
FILM-VERBAND

(Volksveiband fur Filmkunstj E. V.

For only 50 Pfennig all may join the
membership of the Volks-Film-Ver-
band (Peoples' Film Association).

Entrance Fee: 50 pf. Monthly subscription 50pfg.

Board of Directors:

Heinrich Mann, Katlie Kollwitz, Prof. Alfons
Goldschmid, Erwin Piscator, Leonliardt Frank,
Dr. Max Deri, Dr. Franz Hollering, Rudolf
Schwarzkopf.

, Artistic Committee :

Bela Baiazs, Arthur Holitscher, Karl Freund,
Edmund Meisel, G. W. Pabst, Leo Lanis, Ernst
Angel, Andor Kraszna-Kraus, Franze Dyck-
Schnitzer, Viktor Blum, I. A. Hiibler-Kahla.

Join tlie Vollfs-Film-Verband.

All information and prospectuses from the
offices of the Association, Berlin SW. 48,
Friedrichstrasse 235, or from any of the branch
offices.

cut nere — write clearly

NOTICE OF MEMBERSHIP

To the Volksverband fur Filmkunst, Berlin
SW. 48, Friedrichstrasse 235.

I herewith declare my entrance into the
Volksverband fiir Filmkunst E. V.
Enclosed is my entrance fee of 50 Pfg, and the
monthly fee of not more than 50 Pfg for ....
months making a total of. . . . Marks, for which
postal order (cheque or stamps) is enclosed.
Orders and cheques pavable to the Workers '
Bank at S 14, Walistrasse 65, for a/c, N° 6210
(Volks-Film-Verband).

Name

Occupation

Adress

All filmgoers who are
tired of the reaction-
ary tendencies, art-
istically, socially and
politically of the bad
German films belong
with us. Against the
mass of capital invest-
ed in reactionary films
we must set the stren-
gth and enthusiasm
of our energetic organ-
isation.

WliattlieVoli(s-Film-
Vetliand lias to offer;

1. Free admittance to
at least ten good
films per year. If the
costs of the Assoc-
iation are in excess
of this, the member
has only the difference
to pay.

2. Reports and est-
imates to promote
understanding of the
problems of the film.

3. The illustrated mon-
thly film Magazine,
Film und Volk at
the reduced price of
20 Pfg. (instead of
40 Pfg.).

Every Student of the Silent Drama

Should read

THE FILM MERCURY

"Published in Hollywood"'
FILIYILAND'S FOREIYIOST WEEKLY

Edited by TAMAR LANE

Contains analytical and critical comment on the latest developments
in the film industry

77?^ most fearless and feared film
paper published in America

1 O cents weekly
% 3. 00 per year

THE .FILM MERCURY

7524 Calnienga Ave
HOLLYWOOD - CALIF. - U.S.A.

JOIN THE FILM BUREAU
LOCATE AND SEE ONLY THE
BETTER MOTION PICTURES

DONT WASTE TIME AND IVIONEY SEEING THE
INFERIOR UNINTERESTING STUPID PICTURE WHEN
THERE ARE REALLY GOOD PICTURES TO BE SEEN

DISINTERESTED ADVICE FROM A DISCRIMINATING SOURCE

THE FILIVI BUREAU OFFERS ITS SUBSCRIBERS

A YEAR'S SUBSCRIPTION (SIX ISSUES) TO THE

FILM BULLETIN

(A MONTHLY GUIDE TO THE BEST PICTURES)

NOVEMBER TO APRIL INCLUSIVE

COMPLIIVIENTARY AND SPECIALLY PRICED TICKETS

FOR SOME OF THE BEST PICTURES

PRIVATELY SCREENED PICTURES

SERVICE IN ARRANGING ENTERTAINMENTS

IN CONNECTION WITH MOTION PICTURES

A FIFTY PER CENT DISCOUNT IN RENTING THE BUREAU'S

PORTABLE MOTION PICTURE MACHINES

(FOR PRIVATE SCREENINGS)

AN OFFICE INFORMATION SERVICE AND

SPECIAL ADVANTAGES WHEN IT OPENS ITS OWN

LITTLE PICTURE HOUSE

THE SUBSCRIPTION IS TEN DOLLARS A YEAR

JOIN NOW - APPLICATION CARDS AND OTHER DATA
(INCLUDING A COMPLIMENTARY COPY OF THE FILM BULLETIN) MAfLED ON REQUEST

FILM BOREAI) — 4 WEST 40 til STREET — HEW YORK — H. Y.

The best voice in the wilderness of Films

That is what a New York motion picture man has said about The Film
Spectator, edited by Welford Beaton and published in Hollywood.

Two years ago Welford Beaton conceived the idea of a new magazine devot-
ed to the production and criticism of motion pictures. It was to be a publi-
cation that was different from others — one that did not fear facts — one that
might not always be right, but one that would be courageous and honest.

Now The Spectator is acclaimed by public and press and Mr. Beaton is
referred to as ''America's, most discerning motion picture critic". He tells
the truth about pictures and the people make who them with rare ability.
Hundreds of heartening letters of commendation have been received.

HERE ARE SOME OF THE COIYIIYIEIMTS :

Read The Spectator ? Of Course 1 ^Vllere else^could I find the same
spirit of courage, conviction, and joyous contempt for consequences ? Samuel
Hopkins Alams.

I read the Film Spectator with increasing ijiteirest. There is vigorous
and excellent writting in it. H. L. Mencken.

The film Spectator reveals its editor as a writer of practically perfect
English, and as a man with an analytical mind, a sense of humor and a pro-
found knowledge of the screen. Arthur D. How den Smith.

I naturally receive many magazines — all deadhead, bye the way, except
The F Ini Spectator ! — but the latter is the only one of the lot I read, or have
read, from cover to cover. And that is not because I pay for it, ei-
ther. Stewart Edward White.

The numbers sent me confirm, Mr. Ralph Flint's suggestions to me that
your magazine is truly the best voice in the wilderness of films. Not only
do I find your judgments honest, but they are penetratingly just. Symon
Grould. Executive Director, Film Arts Guild. New York.

I find more sound sense in what you write about the present situation
than in anything that has ever been said or written about it. John W. Rum-
sey. President American Play Co. Inc. New YorK.

Welford Beaton is America's most discerning motion picture critic. Lon-
don (England) Express?.

Welford Beaton. . . .a literate writer of motion picture crticism. . . .his
opini:>n has hei^n uni^rjjjly soimd. New York World.,

Subscription for one year $ 5.00, foreign $ 6.00. Single copies free on request^

the: FII^M spectator, 7213 Sunset Blvd. HpUywopd, C^Ut

Please find enclosed |5 for yearly subscription to The Film ,Speci,ai^r^

Name _

Address

SUBSCRIPTION BLANK

Readers are reminded that in many instances
subscriptions expire with this issue. They are
cautioned to fill in this blank immediately and either
hand it to their bookseller or send direct to :

POOL
RIANT CHATEAU
TERRITET
SWITZERLAND

Kindly enter my subcription to Close Up for one year
(which six months indicate),

commencing— I enclose (cheque for

(postal order

Subscription rate (14. shillings) per year by pas*
dollars 50 j

Name „. „ _

Adress-- - ~ _

LES EDITIONS

PIERRE BRiCNRlRllER

V e n d e n t

dans

monde

entier

les

meilleurs

films

Avez-vous besoin d'un conseil

artistique ? technique ?

commercial ? financier ?

Nous vous mettrons en relation avec les meilleurs
specialistes du monde cinematographique

15 avenue M ati gnon 15

PARIS VHP

Telephone : Elysee 86-84

THE DIAL

A MONTHLY MAGAZIN^E
OF ART AND LITERATURE

FOUNDED 1880 BY FRANCIS F. BROWNE
Editor : Marianne Moore Adviser : Scofield Thayer

AMONG RECENT CONTRIBUTORS ARE :

W. C. BLUIVI
KBNNETH BURKE
B. B. CUMMINGS
H. D.

FRANK DOBSON

RALPH CHBBVBR DUNNING

ROGBR FRY

AIvYSB GREGORY

GASTON LACHAISB

MARIB LAURBNCIN

d. h. lawrbncb
tho:u:as mann
paul morand
rayiviond mortimer
pablo picasso
paul rosenfeld
gertrude stein

PAUL VALfiRY

WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

often full of very interesting thin^s^ and is so well printed,
.and mahs for good all round, The Mask, July 1925.

-0

ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION FIVE DOLLARS
(Foreign postage 60 cents additional)

ADDRESS :

i')2 WEST i^tli STREET NEW YORK

a young society

NEOFILM

groups young producers
under the artistic and technical direction of

ALBERTO CAVALCANTI

who directed

THE 3 first NEOFILM productions

RIEN QUE LES HEURES
£N RADE

YVETTE

ANDRfi GIDE and MARC ALLfiGRET'S Travel Picture

VOYAGE AU CONGO

A NEOFILM PRODUCTION

La plus importante revue frangaise
de Cinema

LA CINEMATOGRAPHIE
= FRANQAISE ^=

Chaque semaine toutes les nouvelles du Cinema

FILMS EN PREPARATION

ANALYSES DES NOUVEAUX FILMS
CHRONIQUE DE L'EXPLOITATION
CH RON I QUE FINANCIERE

LES PROGRES DE LA TECHNIQUE
LES NOUVELLES INVENTIONS

Nduvelles d'Angleterre, Amerique, A Hem ague, Espagne, If aire

DiRECTEUR Redacteur EN Chef I P.-A. HARLlS
5, rue Saulnier, PARIS (9^)

T61<^phone : PROVENCE 02. 13

SENSATIONAL BOOKS

AIMATOiVIY OF MOTION PICTURE ART

By Eric Elliott, Price 6 shillings.

"A sound piece of reasoning fully informed, coolly measured,
and based upon a knowledge of aesthetics that extends con-
siderably farther than that of the ordinary critic of the screen."
yianchester Guardian.

''One would wilhngly pay a guinea for Anatomy of Motion
Picture Art. ^Ir. Elliott avoids any of the emotional rhetoric
which mediocrit}' seems to bring to a consideration of the mo-
vies Nearly everything he says makes one pause to think."

TJie Londo7i Mercury.

Anatomy of Motion Picture Art should be read by all cine-
ma-goers. It is a true contribution toward the artistic pro-
gress of the film.

CIVILIANS

By Bryher. Price 7 shiUings and 6 pence.

i^emg an indictment of war and the people who make it,
the preface gives food for thought :''The characters and inci-
dents in this book are not fictitious." ''She is earnest to re-
cord, not to create. . .it switches swiftly and hiformingh' from
one incident or episode to another." Manchester Guardian,

GAUNT ISLAND

By Kenneth Macpherson. Price 7 shillings and 6 pence.
Only a few copies of this book remain.

Ovdev Form
Please supply the following book (s) :

Name (Mr. Miss Mrs)

Adress , ... .

is enclosed.

Bound Volumes of Close Up

"REFERENCE BOOKS FOR THE FUTURE"

Volume two, bound in vellum or boards, will be ready from
June 15th. This is a convenient form in which to have Close
Up, as it will be a reference book for the future, and single co-
pies are apt to be mislaid, lost or torn.

Close Up, bound in white vellum, is the ideal book for a gift
or for collectors. It will be priced at 12 shillings and 6 pence.

Orange cloth-back board volumes are priced at 10 shillings.

Close Up Vol 2 will be invaluable in a few years time, con-
taining a fund of information, and details which would other-
wise be forgotten, as well as beautiful and exclusive photographs
from the best current films. In twenty years time these will
be as unique and rare as are stiUs from fihns produced twenty
years ago. Buy Close Up now for the future !

Order Form

\ vellum

Please supply Close Up, Vol. 2 bound in \

^ ^ \ board (cloth back)

Name

Adress

Postal Order (VeUum 12 /6)

Cheque is enclosed for (Boards 10/-)

Postage on all volumes 6d, extra
Hand this form to your bookseller, or send direct to
POOL, Riant Chateau, Territet, Switzerland.

What the Camera is to the Film, that
the firm of John and Edward Bumpus, Ltd.
is to the reader : a means of delight. The
wants, the tastes of each client are studied ;
suggestions are made, lists of new books
are sent, successful shots are recorded.
Register your preferences by postcard ; our
catalogues and special lists will be sent free.

John and Edward BUMPUS, Ltd.,
Booksellers By Appointment To His Majesty The King
j ^o, Oxford Street,

LONDON, W. I. Telephone :-Mayfair 1223.

DIJON — DARANTIEI^

PRINTED
BY

MAURICE DARANTIERE
AT

DIJON FRANCE
M. CM. XXVIII

Sole American and Canadian distributors :

THE FILM ARTS GUILD

500 Fifth Avenue. . . New York

Through whom all enquiries in America and Canada
with reference to Close ITp should be made.

An International Magazine Devoted to Film Art

With illustrations from the best films

TECHNICAL FRIENDLY INFORMATIVE

T shilling or 5 francs (French) or i mark (German)
35 cents I franc (Swiss) shillings (Austrian)

Vol. Ill No. 2

AUGUST 1928

CLOSE UP

AUGUST 1928

I Shilling
5 Francs
I Mark
35 Cents
I Franc Swiss

CLOSE UP

Editor : K. Macpherson
Assistant Editor : Bryher

Published by POOL
Riant Chateau * Territet • Switzerland

Contents

As Is

Films for Children .
Films for Children .
The Photography of Sound
A Joke behind the Scenes .
100 Per Cent Cinema
Cecil B. de Mille
Comment and Review

Kenneth Macpherson
Richard Watts, Jun.
Bryher

Dorothy Richardson
Wilbur Needham

OSWELL BlAKESTON

Frederick Kiesler
Clifford Howard

Paris Correspondent : Marc Allegret

London Correspondent : Robert Herring
Hollywood Correspondent : Clifford Howard
New York Editor : Symox Golt^d

Geneva Correspondent : F. Chevalley

Subscription Rates :
ENGLAND . . 14 shillings per year
FRANCE ... 70 francs per year
GERMANY . . 14 marks per year
AMERICA • . 3 dollars and 50 cents per year

CLOSE UP

Vol. Ill No. 2 August 1928

AS IS

BY THE EDITOR

This will be more or less a brief account of what is
happening in Berlin at the moment, actually or about to
happen. Perhaps the most important thing is Derussa, The
Russian film, certainly. But in addition there is a great
amount of activity and life for the " off-season Pabst is
about to make Wedekin's Box of Pandora, and is (as I write)
held up only by not being able to find a suitable leading lady.
Having interviewed over six hundred applicants, and tested
many of them, he is by now sending cables to America. By
the time this appears no doubt somebody will have been
chosen, and production will be in progress. Eisenstein is
expected early in August to make for Derussa in Berlin a non-
political film. Pudowkin is making a third, the first stills
from which were shown to me by Prometheus Film G.m.b.H.
As they were the first, I w^as unable to cajole any, but I shall
have some in due course. They were full of vigor and beauty,
and I want Close Up readers to see as many as I can print.

CLOSE UP

I am interested, too, to hear that nearlv everybody here says
The End of St. Petersburg is much better than Ten Days
That Stunned the World. 1 will not dispute this, being but
one among* critics as good and better than myself, but, having
seen the two, I think there is little to choose between them.
Here thev saw Si. Petersburg first, and naturally accepted it
as the masterpiece it is. I myself saw Ten Days first, and
perhaps that has something to do with my feeling that the
scenes of the revolt were more dynamic, more stark, more
vivid than in St. Petersburg, though I am sure that nothing
could be greater or more terrible than the war scenes in the
latter, blending and commenting on civil life in St. Petersburg
itself. Ten Days, they say, is a document — meaning news
reel. So, if we are to believe it, is St. Petersburg. The
personal element simply concentrates attention and sympathy
on the individual. This is excellent, and adds great power to
the lilm. But Ayhat of the personal element in Ten Days?
What of Lenin and his terribly effective entrance and his wild
gesticulations? What of the woman whose body lies on the
great bridge, which, opening slowly, lifts her streaming hair,
and takes with it a dead horse harnessed to its cab, with the
horse dangling white and stark over the water, and the cab
balancing its weight on the other side? This moment, with
the bridge rising, and the horse rising higher and higher in
the air, hanging more and more absurdly from incredible
height, until the strain is too great and cab crashes down the
slope to the road and the horse plunges into the water, is one
of sheerest personal terror, and only to be compared with the
toppling of the upright pram down the steps in Potemkin.

I want to register my opinion because, if I am any judge,

CLOSE UP

St. Petersburg is not greater than Potemkin. I am sure it is
as great, but not greater. Pudowkin is apt to err in present-
ing his ruling classes as caricatures. Their indifference and
brutahty is just a Httle apt to be over-stressed. Their
position, naturally, was as often due to ignorance as great as
the people they oppressed. I am not saying that Lebedefl'
was in any way overdrawn, nor the cheering crowds urging
their countrymen to light, while the whole of St. Petersburg
decked in flags and flower garlands was reminiscent of a
Roman festival. Women waving, and jov evervwhere, we
can all remember, was how war was greeted by many. But
the impression, and this conveys exactly what I mean, of
oppression was just as surely conveyed by Eisenstein in Ten
Days by adroit photographs of gaudy chandeliers, statues,
decor, gigantic, over-ornate trapping of the Winter Palace,
contrasted with the pitiful misery of the people. This subtlety
seemed to me very dignified and very fine. I know how
many directors would have, or could have, visualised nothing
but bare baccantes and a hiccoughing sovereign to express
their meaning.

This may seem, but is not actuallv deviating from my
account of what is happening in Berlin at the moment. These
two films are still being much discussed, and will be for years
to come. Close Up will have much to say of them from time
to time. The cutting out of Trotsky from Ten Days, an act of
censorship, is as inexplicable as most of the inhibitions for
which that department is universally famous, especially since
we have Lenin. Presumably we are supposed to realise that
Trotsky figured in the history of these days, and to have every
reference to him deleted leaves a gap. It is a pity that political

CLOSE UP

reasons of to-day should in a case like this be allowed to
misrepresent history.

Potemkin, on the other hand, has been going the rounds in
its uncut version; that is to say, with the inclusion of the
formerly banned scenes of the drowning officers, the raising
of the red flag, and the toppling pram. Meisel's music, with
this, have made the presentation more than noteworthy. And
speaking of Meisel, Berlin has been playing at the Tauentzien
Palast to crowded audiences. Meisel's gorgeous music again
exhilarates. Perhaps there are too manv trams in Berlin.
At least, it has been stated so. Is it not, however, purelv a
question of temperament? If you watcli Berlin objectively
it may lack much that individuals would claim to be part of
daily life in a great city. If its images are allowed to pass
subjectively before your eyes, it does not lack hypnotic force,
and carries all the movement and clatter of the streets.

Anna Karenina, with Greta Garbo and John Gilbert, is
havmg a huge success at the Gloria Palast. As this is the
rottenest possible film, it is clear that its success is due to the
beauty of Greta Garbo, who has a Belle Bennett part of mother
love. In twenty years they will be trying vainly to give her
those parts for which her youth and beauty now make her
suited. As I say, the film is just tripe, and Greta's clothes an
abomination. If ever bad taste plus vulgarity and tawdriness
meant anything they w^ould here, but for the fact of Greta's
loveliness and utter inability to look like anything but an
overgrown adolescent dressing up for a school play.

Kleinstadtsiinder, with Asta Nielsen, has been on at one of
the Ufa. houses, and revivals, notes on which will be found in
Comment and Review, at various houses.

CLOSE UP

Denissa have very kindly shown me some of the best lilms I
have yet seen. I am to see more this coming week, so cannot
comment on them in this issue, though I will in the next, so
will limit myself to two as yet unrealeased films, Der Sohn
{The Son) and Das Dorf der Sunde (The Village of Sin), The
latter, made by a woman director, Olga Preobrashenskaja, is
non-political, but sociological, and (partly because I prefer
sociology to poHtics) gives me almost greater delight than any
of the others. I want you to remember the name, because it
is without question a film that could and should be shown
everywhere. I shall hope to give stills next month, and full
information about it, and will content myself now by saying
only that here is a fihii that every woman and everv thoughtful
man will acclaim. It states the case for women, for children,
for decent laws and decent education as only a woman could
have done it. Beyond this, Olga Preobrashenskaja has great
power and poetry. Her exteriors, taken on panchromatic
stock, have never been equalled. Here is peasant life, and
here is corn. Corn blowing, waving, she has it from every
angle, near and far. It is a great ethereal sea, with crisp,
swift waves. Its beauty is indescribable. Her technique is
strong, her types well chosen and never over-emphasised. I
do hope that CAose Up readers will have the opportunity to see
this film.

Der Sohn, with Anna Sten, is less good, but still a
remarkable and beautiful film. Anna vSten has never been so
good. The story is intellectual, and intellectually conceived
and intellectuallv directed. We will have more to say of this
also, but space for the moment forbids. Der Gelbe Pass is
also not so good. It has moments of great beauty, and J.

CLOSE UP

Kowal-Samborski is most attractive in his role of the voung
peasant. But it is over-melodramatic. Its propaganda fails
because the oppressors in this case are simply pathological
cases, and would be in any circumstances or conditions.
Surely a wealthy land-owner, requested for land to farm from
two of his serfs, would be enough of a business man to sav to
himself here are two strong, capable and enthusiastic young
people. They wall do good work with their land, and I will
have good rent. Instead of w^hich he reluctantlv rents them
barren soil full of stones. That is what I call bad technique.
We do not feel that this man is much more than a fool, cer-
tainly not worthy of the propaganda made against him. In
the beginning, also, Marie (Anna Sten) was seen definitely
employed in the fields, and Jacob (Kowal-Samborski),
returning from military service, was greeted by all his fellow
peasants. If these two were so well known, it would not have
been difficult for them to find employment in the fields again
instead of Marie having to go as nurse to the house of the
land-owner miles away. There were lovely moments between
the young wife and her husband, and the interiors of the
brothel were straight, strong and unsentimental. But this is
less good than some of the other films. It is not marked with
the same intellectualitv and freedom from conventional
dramatic impasse as are the others. That is the enthralling
thing about such films as Mother, Das Dorf Der Siinde, Ten
Days. There is none of the old tired-to-death plot and
counter-plot of the average scenario. One could not say quite
the same of such Russian films (distinguished more for their
treatment) as Ivan the Terrible, The Postmaster, and that
other barren example of boredom, Taras Biilha; or even of

CLOSE UP

Der Sohn der Berge {Son of the Hills). These have the old
tricks, the old jig-saw business of mate and checkmate, and
are not to be ranked among the best, among Bett und Sofa,
The End of St, Petersburg, Das Dorf der Siinde, These
have such a new approach that thev are, in a sense, a regener-
ation of the films. Let us hope that the Russian endeavour
to secure an international market for its films will not mean
deterioration. One or two recent ones have shown a much
weaker tendency. Xot all, however, thank goodness.

What a vast pity it is that Britishers, quite justly famed for
their sense of fair play, should have refused to listen to " the
other side " of the question. The English public would be
the first to appreciate and give fair judgment to such films as
Ten Days, and also to take their chance to realise that Russia
really is building magnificently, and that the Revolution was
not canaille ousting their betters, but bitterly oppressed and
wronged people making a final, desperate bid for life.

\\^ell, these are the questions, the problems, and the
movements of Berlin of the moment. Next month I will give
more details of the beginning of the autumn season. With
Pudowkin, Eisenstein, Room, Pabst and other distinguished
directors making or about to make new films, there will be
plenty to occupy our interest for some months to come. The
new season may be more rewarding than the last.

Kexxeth Macphersox.

CLOSE LP

By RICHARD WATTS, Jr.

To an American cinema season that threatened to be
singularly arid and unprofitable, the European producers
have come gallantly to the rescue. It is only fair to add, lest
this summary sound like just another anti-Hollywood blast,
that the rescue did come as something of a surprise. During
the last season or two the so-called " art theaters " of New
York have been showing us pompousl}' heralded examples of
the European photoplay which — with the exception of Czar
Ivan the Terrible — have seemed so crude and amateurish in
workmanship, beside even the most routine of the local
product, that the pictures made abroad had come into pretty
general disrepute.

Certainly, though, the Hollywood output of the last six
months, despite a certain standard of technical proficiency,
has been a discouraging one, even to the most generous and
optimistic of observers. A frantic desire to imitate has
become the one notable tendency in American film-making.
A constant succession of crook pictures, nightclub melo-
dramas, mystery dramas and romances about shopgirls who
married the millionaire has been our weekly screen fare
because some firm or other had once turned out a successful
crook picture, nightclub melodrama, mystery drama or

CLOSE UP

romance about a shopgirl who married the millionaire. Xo
imagination, no originality, no resource and a more and more
complete reliance on the support of elaborate accompanying
stage shows to bring in the customers ! Now^ comes the
talking picture as the latest fad, and there are some observers
who welcome even this surrender of the first principle of the
screen as at least a temporary relief from the dreariness of
the same three or four stories endlessly repeated.

All of this is, of course, a commonplace of American
cinema criticism, but it is necessary to repeat it to suggest the
proper background for the earlier mentioned rescue. For into
the dullness and general uneventfulness of the most dis-
couraging of screen seasons there was — though not quite
suddenly — tossed a Russian picture and a British picture,
and, immediately, the photoplav situation took on new life
and eagerness. Now, it was not so surprising to find a
Russian production an invigorating influence, but to see an
English film also acting as ptilmotor is surprising enough to
deserve comment.

The picture is, of course, that Herbert Wilcox production
called Dawn, w^iich deals with the wartime activities and
execution of the nurse, Edith Cavell. In my opinion, Dawn
is an interesting work because it tells a straightforward story
straightforwardly, is beautifully acted by Sybil Thorndike,
and, dealing with a theme still full of dynamite, it was
thoroughly impartial and honourable in its treatment. But
no one could say it w^as really important as a piece of cinema-
making.

What made it of importance to New York's photoplay
season w^as its controversial angle. Because the film dealt

CLOSE UP

with the subject it did and had been banned in the country of
its manufacture, the feeHng was widespread that it would
reaw^aken national hatreds, and something of a local publicity
war waged over the propriety of showing it. The point I
would make is that the very fact a motion picture could stir up
the controversy Dawn created was of high value to the cinema
season. One of the chief defects of our motion pictures is that
they are determined to offend no one; to deal with no idea or
theme w^orth taking seriously. One of their chief weaknesses
is that no one ever gets excited enough to take them with
much earnestness. But here was a photoplay that caused
people to become indignant enough to want to fight a little.
For the moment, a motion picture actually started a battle.
You can't tell me that doesn't come under the head of
progress.

Of infinitely more importance, of course, as pure cinema, is
the Russian film, The End of St. Petersburg, which reached
town the evening after Dawn, and would have been shown
earlier had not the State Department been somewhat in doubt
about the whole matter. It will not be the purpose of this
survey to tell of the magnificent cinematic values of this
pictorial account of the overthrow of Russia's old regime; of
its magnificent war scenes, the only real anti-war episodes in
picture history ; of its amazing use of shots of inanimate
objects; of its skill in making every scene count. I will only
say that the film served a purpose that was of high value in
tw^o directions. First, the highly charged subject matter of
the film, with its frank anti-capitalist propaganda, attracted
wide attention and discussion, and then, the attention having
been drawn, it was riveted by the qualities of a film that

CLOSE UP

combined the technical values of Potemkin with the additional
element of being a good show

One result of this was that a week after The End of St,
Petersburg opened, not only were all the motion picture
critics writing enthusiastically about it, but their more valued
colleagues, the dramatic critics, were talking excitedly of the
film also. Accustomed to sneering the usual theater-goer's
sneer at the contemptible object they call the movies, these
somewhat condescending gentlemen remained to marvel at the
dramatic possibilities of this humble medium. American
defenders of the cinema are constantly met by this attitude of
contempt that their cultured fellow-countrymen bear towards
the cinema, and a picture like The End of St. Petersburg is,
therefore, of infinite value in overthrowing this destructively
cynical point of view. Add to that the importance of the work
in restoring the morale of the unfortunate film advocates,
beaten down after a succession of fourth-rate pictures, and you
ma}' gain some faint idea of what the Russian production has
already done for us here.

As for the recent American-made photoplays, only two are
worthy of consideration, and one of these was directed by a
German. This is The Man Who Laughs, a surprisingly
faithful adaptation of the Hugo novel, directed with fine
atmospheric effectiveness by Paul Leni and splendidly acted
by Conrad Veidt and Olga Baclanova. The other is The Big
Noise, a humble enough program picture which was given a
certain, at least, local importance by the fact that it actually
satirized American political conditions and even had the
irreverance to poke fun at New York's mayor.

CLOSE L P

FILMS FOR CHILDRExN

For the first time in questions of cinematography, I am
afraid. I have often been angry, but as Miss Loos has said,

you can't keep a good fihn down " — Joyless Street is being
revived, Jeanne Ney was cheered in London, and quite a lot
of people here walked out on Rin-tin-tin. But one cannot
pick up a trade paper in any language w^ithout finding that a
lot of societies of health, education and moral welfare have got
together to discuss exactly what films they will permit to be
shown to the young.

And one knows so well what they will choose.

A short time ago a film was shown here that w-as endorsed
by all possible educational societies. Parents were enjoined,
almost sumuK^ned to send their children. It was about the
glories of scouting. And it was about as foolish a piece of
work as any to date encountered. The hero, rather than
break his word, allowed every other person in the film to risk
their life and their happiness. But because he had not broken
his word or his scout pole, or something equally dogmatic,
he was a HERO. And children were to copv him. This is
the kind of thing that makes me fear for the future.

Children, naturallv, are blindlv obedient. What they need
to be taught is self-reliance and discrimination. To know
when a thing is right and w^hen it isn't. There is no set road

The moment that Miriam (Dolores Costello) is about to be slain
by an arrow from the bow of the high priest, as a sacrifice to one
of the temple idols.

Interior of pagan temple as flood waters pour in upon it.

Exterior scene of deluge.

Interior of Ark showing Japheth (George O'Brien) with :\Iiriam
(Dolores Costello) in his arms — Xoah (Paul McAllister). Japheth
has rescued Miriam from the deluge that overwhelmed the temple
as she was about to be offered up as a sacrifice. Shem (Malcolm
White) and Ham (Guinn Williams), together with their wives and
the wife of Xoah, are looking on.

The T ell-Tale Heart. The madman (Otto Matiesen), driven to murder-
ous frenzy by his victim's vulture-like eye and the beating of his terrified

heart.

The Tell-Tale Heart. The old man awakens in terror as the madman
appears in his room, bent upon kilHng him.

Tilt Ttll-Tale Heart. The madman (Otto Matiesen), after he has
succeeded in clearing himself of suspicion, is driven to reveal his
crime by the fancied beating of the heart of his murdered victim,
whose body he had successfully concealed under the floor.

CLOSE UP

of good and evil. Everything changes according to time and
environment. The good of yesterday may be the evil of
to-day;

Glancing at random over some American educational
papers, 1 tind that you may take your child to Two Arabian
KnightSj but you must not take him to The Kin go j Kings.
Why ? Sadie Thompson is considered of " doubtful value/'
but you are especially cautioned against letting him see
Wings. A pictorial record by a scientific expedition to New
Guinea is not for the young. (Presumably on account of the
customs of the savages !) The Crowd is strong and beyond
them. The Student Prince is excellent. You may even,
because it is so beautiful, take them to see Garbo and Gilbert
in Love.

Probing behind the apparently incongruous listing, you
will find that every picture that has the slightest relationship
to reality is barred.

The King of Kings has passages of great beauty and
simplicity, but because it presents the story without any
particular dogmatic coloring, we presume, it is unfit for
children. Though thev will not be harmed by the vulgarities
of Two Arabian K7iights. (I felt, when I saw this, that
though it did not much m.atter, it was one of the few pictures
to which I should prefer not to take a child.) The Student
Prince will show them life as it is not and therefore is quite
safe, as the prince does his duty by his father and his father-
land in the end. The Crowd, which apparently (I have not
seen it yet) sets out to show the average existence of the
average family, is '' too strong," and I cannot imagine why
Wings should be so improper? Is it the war stuff? But

CLOSE UP

then they are taught to approve of war stuff in most schools.
Has Wings some hidden meaning to which even a psycho-
logical student cannot penetrate? Or are they afraid that
small boys may purloin aeroplanes to escape another term at

school ?

In Germany you may take your child to Buster Keaton or to
The Dangers of Ignorance, and nothing much between.

In Switzerland you can take a child to anything provided
it is accompanied by a parent : otherwise it cannot go alone
until over fifteen unless it is labelled a programme de famille.
This, incidentally, I feel is the ideal arrangement.

In England everything is censored in order to conform with
what a certain group considers wholesome for children.

Now I am very doubtful if the cinema in any of its forms
is responsible for much harm. It cannot be more harmful
than the average daily Press nor the average education. Of
course, there are a lot of films that one would prefer a child
not to see ; just as there are bad forms of any art that one
prefers they should escape if possible. But I would run the
risk of their seeing any film I know of to date, rather than
that some absurd system of censorship should bar them from
the films that matter — from Mother, from Jeanne Ney, and
others in that category. But these would be the first to be
barred under a policy of restriction.

Once a child is fourteen in mental age there is no reason
why it should not see any film : particularly, if I could, I
would see they went to films such as Joyless Street and Bett
und Sofa, For children under fourteen care, if necessary, not
from any point of view that their morals might be damaged,
but because many great films treat of subjects outside their

CLOSE UP

experience and many stupid films might blunt their discrim-
ination.

But, as one should be constructive, not destructive, what
films should be chosen to show children aged say, between
eight and fourteen ?

First of all, if I were arranging a programme for children,
I should be careful to see that the films were not too long*
They do not, as a rule, enjoy sitting still for longer than an
hour and a half. Then I should suggest the following nine
pictures, which shown, one a week, would roughlv cover a
school term. I should show one film only at each perform-
ance, with the addition of the current news gazette, or any
one reel documentaire.

1. Moana of the South Seas. — This has proved, from personal experience,
the favorite picture of a great number of children. If the programme
is strictly educational, it can be linked up with the geography of the
Pacific Islands. If possible, the fuller French version should be shown,
as the more interesting portions for children were largely omitted from
the English copy.

2. Chang. — This will add Siam and Asia to their map of the world. If
possible, some of the interesting articles on how the picture was filmed
^vhich have appeared in Asia and National Geographic Magazine) should
be given them to read afterwards.

3. The King of Kings. — This film will give them more than hours of
dogmatic religious instruction. It would be well to point out that the
colored prologue and preposterous banquet are not in accordance with
the verity of the rest of the picture.

4. Tier gang in Ahyssinien. — This is a wonderful record of the expedition
sent to Abyssinia to collect African animals for the Berlin Zoo, and has
some very beautiful pictures of wild birds. But it is more than a mere
documentaire and contains many scenes of Abyssinian life, one of the
oldest cultures of Africa.

5. Voyage An Congo. — Not so many animals, but very valuable to show
children the beauty and interest of negro life in West Africa. Every
country has its negro problem, and it will be well for all concerned if

CLOSE VP

children realise that Africa is a land of complex civilisations and not a
strip of sand where ignorant natives run from the white man in terror.

6. Kraft und Schoenheit. — This would need to be shortened. The scenes
in the stadium^ contrast of modern life, the training of tiny babies, the
slow-motion pictures of boxing, fencing, ju-jitsu, etc., would probably
be more enjoyed by children than the various forms of dancing. But I
should not insult the intelligence and artistic sense of the children by
cutting out the nudes.

7. Under Arctic Skies, — This gives a good idea of Northern life and links
up, via Siberia, with Asia. Nanook of the North might be substituted,
but I have always missed this picture. At any rate, the bears playing

- in the stream, the birds on the Siberian shore, will help the children to
circle the world with their minds.

8. Son of the Mountains. — This is a Goskino film, taken in the Caucasus.
The story is poor; it is, in fact, a Russian " Western," but probably
the children won't object. The scenes of village life are excellent, and
they will like the riding and the fighting. The chief reason, however,
why this film is suggested is that most people link up Russia with the
Arctic and forget completely the Asiatic and Mohammedan fringes, that
suffer from intense heat rather than from cold. With this, as it is not
very long, might be shown Cooper and Schoedsack's Grass, an interest-
ing picture of tribal migration across the Persian mountains.

9. Mother. — Directed by Pudowkin. Perhaps the most religious film yet
made. It is not revolutionary in spirit : it is universal. And it is
absurd to deny a film of so great a vision to children simply because it
happens to have been made in Russia. To do this is to place ourselves
on the level of the women jeering at the prisoners in this picture.

I am afraid my list is very different to the current English
experiments. Not one patriotic film and not one fairy tale.
But, except for the Voyage au Congo, I have taken children
to all the films I have suggested and noted their criticism and
reactions. The adult world (perhaps from nervousness) too
often surrounds childhood with falseness. These pictures
will show it the world as it is — its beauty, its ugliness, its
possibility of adventure.

Bryher.

CLOSE UP

FILMS FOR CHILDREN

The failure of the theatre to provide for juveniles anything
more than the annual Christmas pantomime, or Blue Bird,
or Peter Pan, is presumably to be accounted for by the
assumption that upper and middle class children are excluded
from evening* outings, except during holidays, and that in the
long summer vacation they are away from town. But, as a
matter of fact, few children are rigorously excluded for the
whole of term-time from evening entertainments, and an
adequate Juvenile Theatre could count upon a daily audience
during the season, even if only a percentage of the available
children paid each a single visit — and it is to be remembered
that children are the best of advertising agents. Again, there
is no reason why a summer holiday season should be less
successful than that of the winter pantomime. For though
most of the patrons are away for a part of the holiday, few are
away for the whole of the six weeks, and all are in the
privileged position of having earned relaxations.

But if it is strange that no one has yet risked the safe
experiment of a Children's Theatre, it is far stranger that we
have to date no Children's Cinema. For children of all
classes and all ages go all the year round to the cinema. And
if it is the truth that the trade fears to specialise, fears to do
anything but cater all the time for a mixed house, then the

CLOSE UP

waiting opportunity calls aloud to the enterprise of the
amateur association.

Meanwhile educated adults discussing the desirability of
films for children have fallen into three groups : the pros, the
contras, and those who, regretfully accepting the fact that
the film has bolted with humanity and is by no means to be
restrained, urge on behalf of the juveniles a restriction to the
severely instructional. Most educationalists who believe in
the film come heavily to their support. Comparatively few
consider its artistic possibilities. Amongst these few is
conspicuous Mr. Hughes Mearns, who, in his interesting
contribution to the May Close Up, demonstrated the use of
the film as artistic experience, as a means by which children
may be trained to discriminate, to detect the commonplace in
style and in sentiment, to reach, for instance, the point of
blushing with shame for a poet who offers them the heart
of a rose.'* His plea is, in fact, for the children's film
regarded as an elevator of the taste of the rising generation.

Training in taste is incontestably an admirable ideal for
those whose business it may be to select films for the use of
schools — provided the children are not too overtly acquainted
with the nature of the intended process. Much, if not
everything, that the film can do is at stake the moment the
onlookers are aware that they are being challenged to judge,
and particularly is this the case with children of normal ego-
centricity and love of power. A large, perhaps the larger,
part of education '' is unconscious, its vehicle a whole-
hearted irresponsible collaborating enjoyment. In proof, let
any adult recall his early experience and compare his response
to those things that were presented to him with credentials

CLOSE UP

from above with that called forth by what he discovered
accidentally " on his own account. To admit the superiority
of the latter is not to attempt to decry systematised education.
It is merely to note that even the best efforts of the accredited
teacher cannot achieve the overwhelming influence of what
offers itself without the taint of ulterior motive. Train up a
child in . . . by all means, and the obligations of the school
screen are inexorable to the limit of the term. But however
psychologically enlightened our schools may become, how-
ever imbued with the spirit of free collaboration between
teachers and taught, they will remain schools, training-
grounds for youth that must recognise its state of pupillage.
And there is that in every man which not only revolts against
the state of pupillage but ceaselessly is outside it, is born
adult and more than adult. And it is to this free persistent
inner man that art in all its forms is addressed, that the art of
the children's cinema will address itself and will do so freely
onlv in circumstances allowing the children to feel themselves
simply an audience in surroundings to which they innocently
betake themselves for recreation and delight.

All over the world this young audience is now waiting in its
millions, and there are almost no films available for it beyond
those of its beloved Clown and his imitators. This audience
may, and can and does, together with its elders, reap the many
gifts offered by the film independently of what is represented.
But its individual needs are ignored as they are in no other
branch of contemporary art. There are, it is true, the films,-
many of them excellent, issued by the British Instructional
for use outside the theatre. Most of these are directly
instructional, some only incidentally so. Very many of them

CLOSE UP

might serve as items in public programmes for children.
Apart from these and the selection that might be made of the
films already publicly exhibited, there is to hand no material
wherewith to draw up programmes for children's shows.

It may not unreasonably be objected that the children
themselves do not want children's shows, that a cinema for
juveniks equipped with no matter what enticements would be
tarred for the average child with the same brush as is every
institution, educational or otherwise, supposed to be adapted
to its needs, and that unless they were denied admission to
other cinemas children would treat the newcomer with con-
temptuous neglect. Some of them would. Many would not.
Most parents of cinema-visiting children would rally round
the experiment. Those who doubt its final capture of the
children may be invited to consider the case of the child
amongst his favourite books. For the relationship between
child and film finds its nearest parallel in that between child
and picture-book. Children's films, in nearly all their
desiderata, are akin to children's books, with the difference
that the film, with its freedom from the restrictions of
language, is more nearly universal than the book and can
incorporate, for the benefit of the rest, the originality of each
race unhampered by the veil of translation.

Apart from racial divergencies, films for children, like
children's books, call for certain common characteristics.
The child has ceased to be a born criminal, a subject for
continuous repression and admonition, and is ceasing to be a
toy adult, a person whose mind is a small blank sheet upon
which the enterprising elder may inscribe what he will.
Something of these he still is, but the something else, the

CLOSE UP

unlimited opportunity he represents, overshadows the rest.
And films for children are, as Mr. Mearns points out, the
film *s great opportunity. An opportunity that can be used
to its utmost only by such films as may operate upon the child
without need of adult intervention. Films are by their nature
precluded from emulating those children's books, many of
them excellent, which are intended to be read aloud and
expounded. And the pull of the film is just here, in its
unsupplemented directness, in the way it can secure collabo-
ration in independence of the grown-up medium who may so
easily, by the business of exposition carried too far, inhibit,
or at least retard, in the child, the natural desire to explore
on its own account. Interpretation should be, as far as
possible, implicit. A good picture will tell its own story.
The caption, at its utmost only the passing shadow of inter-
vention, is usually indispensable, particularly for the
instructional film, which at present is apt to be rather
insufficiently captioned. Psychologists have quite justifiably
protested in horror and dismav at the way the average
nature " film lends to the depicted natural processes an
unnatural smooth swiftness and unreality that the child's lack
of experience renders it unable to correct. Most of these films
appear to have been devised merely to astonish, to give
sensational exhibitions of the wonders of nature." In-
adequate captioning leaves these marvels to lie about in the
child's mind unrelated to any kind of actuality. The chick
emerging from its shell with the ease and swiftness of a
conjuring trick is a well-known example of a method of
presentation whose evil can be mitigated only by careful
captional commentary. —

CLOSE UP

But, in the child's film proper, as distinct from the
instructional film, captions should be reduced to the minimum
and should remain impersonal, avoiding intrusion, running
commentary, any kind of archness or the roguery so
detested by children even while they politely respond to it,
avoiding any steering of the onlooker's thoughts or emotions
— everything but necessary statement or indication. The
child's note is sincerity, and a steadiness that its immature
physical and mental gestures fail, to its own vast annoyance,
to convey. Only an immense steadiness through thick and
thin, a complete serenity of presentation of no matter what,
will secure its full collaboration.

Technically, just as its book should be clear in type and
easy to read, its film should be clear, avoiding complications
— though the child's passion for detail is not to be forgotten —
unhurried, and not afraid of repetitions. Youthful eyesight
is to be considered and the fact that children look chiefly at,
and only very slightly through, what they see, only through
within the limits of their small experience. Presentation
should incline therefore to the primitive, avoiding highly
elaborated technique. The late and deeply lamented " Felix "
has revealed the enchanting possibilities of the drawn film.
Let us pray that an artist may arise who will be moved to
produce, with all the magic there is for children of five and
of fifty in primitive drawing, film fantasies, grotesques,
burlesques and what not.

The available subject matter for children's films is, of
course, inexhaustible. World history, travel, adventure in
all their guises and gradations, stories grave and gay. Satire
is acceptable if quiet in tone and matter-of-fact. For the

CLOSE UP

young child, dreams are inestimable treasure. To it, as to
God, all things are possible. Its animism is normal and
beneficent and at least as true,'' regarded as interpretation,
as the varying descriptions of the nature of existence that later
take its place. It may be well in the case of elder children to
anticipate the strange embarrassment awaiting them in the
discovery of themselves as more or less central. But the
young child's rose should be allowed to keep its heart. If you
strike, it is not at the imagined heart of the rose, but at that
of the child, who gave the rose its heart. Let it keep the
magic garden, the dreams and fantasies and fairytales, to
which eternally it belongs, together with the city of familiar
life within which soon enough it must learn its place.

Most children, like most adults, object to being preached
at. Yet direct moral teaching has its place, and what a
priceless chance here has the film as against the moralising
author, who must make his choice between fable, sly parable
and sermon. Author, as preacher, is in a dangerous situation
unless he be part artist and part saint. But the picture is
impersonal. The children sit before it as ladies and gentle-
men of the jury, ^sop and La Fontaine, remaining because
they are works of art, offer admirable material. So does
Strewelpeter, which contains the makings of enchanting
grotesque moral films.

Dorothy M. Richardson.

CLOSE UP

THE PHOTOGRAPHY OF SOUND

By Wilbur Needham

Those who listen with delight when the heroine actually
shouts Oh God! Not that! Anything but that!*' will
have no interest in this sketch. And those who hope, like the
three Warner brothers, to make a fortune out of canned noise,
will be ready for a major crime if they chance upon this. Let
all such be warned : there will be no hope offered here for the

vitaphone " — indeed, this is not even a discussion of sound
devices, except as a prelude to consideration of the
photography of sound.

Possibly for that larger public without which American
pictures cannot survive financially, motion pictures accom-
panied by metallic gasps and mechanical shrieks will
monopolize the film theatre of the future. Possibly, I say,
because by this costly addition to the picture, the movie
magnates are actually narrowing their market to English-
speaking races, destroying the universal language of the
screen — unless they are willing always to make the vitaphone
and the photoplay records separately, a method that will prove
of staggering expense. And, as my friend Barnet Braverman
points out, they are driving away many half dollars brought
to the theatre by unhappy people who come to the films for

CLOSE UP

oblivion, relaxation— or to sleep ! It is not unreasonable to
suppose that there may not even be a theatre in the near
future (although the lure of the crowd ought to persist in
bringing humans out of their homes), since broadcasting of
talking-films by radio is not far ahead of us. But, however
that may be, for the minority motion pictures will always be
pantomime; and if the time arrives when we can no longer
watch our pictures in silence — if we are to see the frightful
day when a pantomime must also be an elocutionist — -I know
a growing audience that will quietly leave the film theatre,^
never to return.

But I am limiting the motion picture, denying it a logical
development in its progress toward the complete absorption
of all the other arts? But I am limiting nothing, denying
nothing. If I have said elsewhere that the photoplay is a
robber of the arts, I have not meant that it must devour them
all, cast aside their empty husks, and remain itself alone,
shining and supreme. The motion picture can take on the
qualities of sculpture, painting, the stage, music, without
conjuring itself into a mere versatile artistic parrot; it can
strut the world stage well enough in borrowed — and
transmuted — plumage and yet leave a few feathers to its elder
sisters. Forgive the metaphors. Even with the addition of
the human voice, the films can never hope entirely to supplant
the stage. Lack of the voice has heretofore been regarded as
the motion picture's only limitation and the one thing (aside
from color, which the films already use with moderate success)
whereby the stage asserts its right to life ; but presence of the
voice in reality imposes a limitation on the screen. Pantomime
remains real onlv as long as it is pantomime. Echoing from

CLOSE UP

photographs upon a screen in which the actors have reality
only by their silence, the human voice shatters that reality.

Beyond that . . . the films already have their voice : have
always had it. Perhaps few have consciously realized it, even
among little theatre audiences. It is probable, too, that not
more than a dozen directors have known that they were using
sounds in their silent screen work ; but in all the better work>
and in spots throughout the lesser films, the human voice has
been speaking, the sounds of life have been caught by the
screen and carried to the sensitive in audiences. The thing
is so obvious that it seems I must be uttering platitudes in
asserting it. But I have asked many intelligent men and
women, and few of them have admitted that they hear what
I hear.

The gong in Metropolis, A mere gong, banging away, is
nothing. One acknowledges that there is a noise, but one
does not feel it as one feels the boom of that gong alarming
the workers. You have to feel noise, as you taste color, hear
sights, and see feeling. It rests upon an interchange of senses.
Only the hyper-sensitive realize this fully ; but in men of any
feeling at all, the talent is ready to assert itself in varying
degrees, when brought forth by an understanding hand upon
the camera. In Metropolis, the effect was achieved by Fritz
Lang — and I am sure consciously — by swinging the hammer
toward the audience. As the hammer struck the gong, a
booming sound was born, and this was at once carried into the
theatre by the enlarging of the hammer as it swung nearer
the camera. Soon the ears of the sensitive were filled with a
swelling volume of sound.

In the same way, all the sounds of life can be made audible.

CLOSE UP

Motion is not enough. A man walking across the screen is
only a man walking ; a photograph of his feet moving is no
more than that. But catch his footfalls with the proper shade
of emphasis, and the screen reproduces the sound and sends
it winging out to the mental ears of the audience. These
same footfalls can be muted, too. A dog barks silently until
you level the camera at him from his own height, and catch the
sound at an angle — a different angle for each tone, low for a
bark, high for a howl, straight in the dog's face for a snarl.
You will remember — how could anyone forget ? — the howling
of the sledge dogs at the end of Nanook of the North.
Flaherty sent chills down my spine with that; and I have
watched many dogs, and even wolves, howl upon the screen
and have remained indifferent.

So with the human voice. Two actors bellowing at each
other produce only a jarring noise, or what is worse, a rapid
movement of lips without sound; but when their words are
photographed with delicate shades of emphasis, the spectator
hears every word, because he feels it all. In What Price
Glory, Raoul Walsh achieved this effect sensationally,
transferring stage dialogue to the screen with splendid
skill. . .

Probably the wailing movies are necessary for the
unimaginative. Still, even clods must tire, eventually, of
this new toy ; and what a gorgeous financial crash it is going
to be for producers and exhibitors, with their costly invest-
ment in reproductive and broadcasting devices ! The very
men who would not risk a few thousands to experiment with
new ideas in pictures have cast millions into the maw of this
mechanical apparatus, with a future perilously doubtful.

CLOSE UP

If you are among those sensitive people whose mental ears
catch the faintest Sounds of life as a story is projected teUinglv
on the screen, you will not need the raucous howls of the
talking films. Let us hope you will never have them thrust
upon you.

' A JOKE BEHIND THE SCENES

O. B.

But/' they say, " how interesting for you. So many
amusing things must happen behind the scenes."

It is vain to tell them that famous comedians do not fall off
ladders in between scenes just to amuse the studio staff, in
fact, the studio staff is generally coerced into doubling for
fan^ous comedians when the script calls on them to fall off
ladders. Why watching the wheels go round should be an
hilarious occupation, I don't know. Fascinating, certainly.
Yet they insist that life behind the scenes is a mixture of
occasional thrill and perpetual laughter. Except, of course,
the younger ones, who say : Oh ! how wonderful ! You
have met Mr. X or Miss Y, and are they really so divine?**

If a brother artist acquires too generous a figure for juvenile
parts, that is an irresistible behind-the-scenes jest ; and a
brother technician cannot stop chuckling when he remembers
that the other chap is only getting half the salary ! Customary
manifestations of ambition, slightly gone to seed, and the

CLOSE UP

universal love of scandal, which must be made at anv cost ;
these are intimate little absurdities which cannot be flavoured
by anyone not in the know\ Esoteric witticisms about the
mistakes and misfortunes of others. Poor old So-and-so, the
wretched camera man, took such and such a scene with a cap
on his lens ! Little knots of stage hands gather in corners of
the studio and repeat the story with appreciative roars of
laughter.

We are simple folk and our humour is fittingly rudimen-
tary, not at all the sort of thing that is fashioned for the
delectation of outsiders ; so to satisfv the curiositv of the many
I have chosen some classical jokes of the cinema world.

First of all there are the memories of the early days of the
industry. Incredible blunders, unbelieveable gaucheries^
fatuities : Memories w^hich go back to the days when a
camera w^as cranked by two niggers turning the wheels of a
tandem I

Years and years ago, and this happened. A well-known
figure in the artistic world was engaged to direct a picture.
He talked a lot about composition and d^cor, and with a few
pointed insinuations mortallv offended the cameraman, who,
in revenge, refused to allow^ him to look through the camera.
Not till tlie middle of the picture did the director get a chance
of seeing the set in the view finder. The cameraman was
called away for a few minutes, and the director seized his
opportunity, then, groaning in the true melodramatic manner,
he paced up and down, uttering inartistic imprecations.

You have done this on purpose. You w^ant to ruin me.
What is the matter? Whv, the whole picture is upside
down!"

CLOSE UP

Another tale is more technical, but it deserves inclusion
because it happened not so long ago. An actor standing at a
writing desk was told to cross to the mantelpiece, take a
cigarette, and walk back to the desk. The cameraman

paned with the actor, but the stage manager was sitting
outside the set busily drawing up his chart for the next day's
" takes When the picture was shown on the screen it was
discovered that the cameraman had come off the set, for the
white-coated figure of the stage manager was visible when the
camera ** paned to the mantelpiece. It was an important
scene in the picture, and the actor, who had finished his
contract, was leaving for Germany. Nothing daunted, the
ingenious cameraman took a ruler and scraped half the emul-
sion off the film! Everyone was content; some may even
have thought it clever, an innovation, a new way of conveying
an emotion.

There ought to be many strange incidents to record about
the actors, and those pathetic beings who dream of being
actors ; but once in the studio they obey the megaphone and
individualities (respectability, romance, sordidness) vanish in
the crowd. I love, however, the legend of the lean director
who was playing a hearty role in his own picture. He was a
man of brusque disposition who rapped out orders to the
actors, stepped into the set, ignored the warning signals of his
staff, shot the scene, and nine times out of ten found that he
had forgotten the pads to fill out his cheeks.

I am afraid that the following has been elaborated,
embroidered and enriched, as it has been passed from mouth
to mouth. Scene: an historical drama. Assistant director
rushes from cottage (about to be burnt down to make a high

CLOSE UP

spot " in the picture) with a flaming torch, and sets alight to

a gentleman wearing a property beard. Keep still," yelled

the cameraman, if youVe got to burn you might as well

burn in the picture !"

My favourite is an Arabian adventure of a kind nonentity

who took pity on tw^o children. Flies had clustered round the

children's mouth and eyes, and while the camera was being

moved in for a close-up, he chased them away. Fury ! The

producer yelled : Put those flies back at once. How in

hell's name am I going to match up with the long shot?"

♦ ♦ *

A joke behind the scenes may not be a joke in an armchair.
I feel that I should have said this at the beginning, but then
you might not have read anv further.

O. B.

loo PER CENT. CINEMA

(The Film Arts Guild, pioneers in the " little cinema
movement " of America, whose series of presentations of
foreign films as well as American films at the Cameo Theatre,
New^ York, during 1926 and 1927, may be said to have
formally launched the film art movement, has consummated
plans for the erection of its own cinema in the Greenw^ich
Village section of Xew York, which will be opened to the
public during September, 1928.

Realizing that the art film, to grow to any influential

CLOSE UP

stature, must be not only individual in conception, form and
content, but s'iiould be presented as well in a structure
embodying a new type of architecture, and inspired bv the
fundamental necessities of pure cinema, Svmon Gould, the
director of the Film Arts Guild, has engaged Frederick
Kiesler, of \^ienna, Paris and New York, a noted architect
and stage designer who was formerly identified with the
International Theatre Exposition.

The Film Guild has given Mr. Kiesler full rein to conceive,
plan and design both the exterior and the interior of the Film
Guild Cinema as well as unicjue projection ideas invented bv
him. He has given the cinema and its individual needs
intensive research and study since 1920. He has evolved a
new science called " optophonetics '\ which is a radical treat-
ment of color, sound and sight from the cinema standpoint.
He pavs special attention to what he terms ''visual-acoustics'',
a screen which permits new methods of projection, a new
scheme of atmospheric decorations of a chameleon-nature and
other ideas which emphasize radically the quintessence of the
cinema.

Mr. Kiesler embodies his suggestions and ideas in the
following Cimema Manifesto :)

THE CINE^IA ^lANIFESTO.

We ail know that our present-daA' cinema, or motion
picture houses, are not cinemas, but merely imitations of old
European theatres into which a screen was hung. But not all
of us know that the Film has matured enough to create its own
form of architecture, which must signify— 100 per cent.
Cinema.

CLOSE UP

Our age is an optical age. The rapidity of events and their
brief duration require a receiving apparatus which can register
as speedily as possible. It is the Eye.

The speed of light waves exceeds that of all other waves.

The Film is the optical flying-machine of our era.

I will repeat what I published as earlv as 1922 : The
elementar}' difference between Cinema and Theatre consists
in the fact that the Film is a play on a surface — the Theater a
plav in space.

This difference has not been realized concretely either in
the Theater architecture nor in the Cinema architecture up to
the present day.

I estabhshed an ideal project for the Theatre in The
Endless Theatre," in Paris, 1925. In contrast to it, I have
now also adapted the Ideal Cinema to the American Building-
Laws, in New York, 192G.

While the ideal Theatre is dedicated to the Spoken Word,
the ideal Cinema is " The House of Silence " The
Wordless House or rather " The House of Sounding-
Vibrations ".

The Theatre must give up the present " Peepshow form
which will pass over, in a purified state, to the Cinema as the
ideal picture-theatre. This new form, of the Cinema will give
the most artistic and economical possibilities, much more than
in any Cinema of to-dav.

The constructivistic experiments in decoration of the
Russians (Tairoft', ^^IcA^erhold and others), the futuristic
attempts of tlie Italians, and the expressionistic work of the
Germans (Jessner, Poelzig and others) have achieved no

CLOSE UP

results for the new Stage, nor for the new Architecture of the
Theatre in general. They remained stuck fast in mere
decoration, and after a brief existence of a few years they
perished in the artistic reaction of 1926 to 1927.

While in the Theatre every single spectator is an atom of
the mass of spectators and loses his individuality in order to
be fused into complete unity with the actors, the Cinema
which I have designed is the ideal house of the inactive
spectator, of the passive spectator, of the individual spectator,
the house of absolute Individuality.

The most important quality of the auditorium is, on the one
hand, its power of suggesting concentration of attention.
Even more important is its power of destroying the sensation
of confinement which may be involved in the focal concentra-
tion of the spectator upon the screen. I mean that the Reflex
which the film creates in the psyche of the spectator must make
it possible for him to lose himself in imaginary, endless space,
to feel himself alone in universal space, even though the
projection surface, the screen, implies the opposite : All for
one point, the SCREEN.

The architectural form of the ideal Cinema, contrary to the
Theatre, must vary according to the size of the audience.
Every capacity implies its corresponding elementary architec-
tural form. A cinema for 300 spectators will have its special
form (involving, of course, the size of the building ground),
which will be essentially different from the form of a cinema
for 1,000. The latter will differ from one designed for 2,000,
this in turn from those designed for a capacity of 4,000, 6,000
and 10,000. Beyond 10,000 spectators, the architectural form
will remain the same.

CLOSE UP

The factor of next importance is Acoustics.

Mechanized music differs in its acoustic results from
ordmary music. It has been proved that the Film cannot
exist of itself. The silent film is a dead film, the film
without music is exhausting, impossible for any length of
time, especially the length of a whole evening.

The films are exhausting because they make all their
demands on a single sense, the sense of sight. This is
opposed to the laws of the human organism. Every one of
the five senses must be supported by one of the others to attain
its highest powers. We see better while hearing, and we hear
better while seeing. We must be able to see music, just as
we must be able to hear a spectacle or a picture.

For this reason there is a complete misunderstanding of
elementary facts and artistic misconception in the complete
refusal to accept the sounding-film or the color-film. On^
must not be misled by the absolutely unsatisfactory first
attempts. Some day MUSIC, combined with COLOR and
FILM, will be brought to a new perfect unity in a new art
which I have named OPTOPHONETICS.

But as long as the film expresses itself in black and white,
and because of the very lack of color, it is from the beginning
not an imitation of nature, but a new form of artistic creation.
But when the color-film reproduces merely a photograph, a
copy of scenery, the cleavage between nature and art, between
the spectator and nature, grows less ; and so in a work of pure
imitation, the artistic effect and every effect on the psyche of
the spectator fails completely. All sense of illusion is lost,
because the separation between nature and art is lacking.

In the Film, as in every other art, everything depends on

CLOSE UP

how its mediums (means) are utilized and not on what is
employed ; and in the film of the future all depends on how the
black-and-white-color and sound can be fused into an
optophonetic union.

The attempts at speaking-films have failed completely in the
cinema. Speaking is too natural, too concretely a part of an
individuality, to be changed from nature to abstract art. But
singing, on the contrary, like instrumental music, will be
employed as accompaniment to optical drama, for singing,
the abstract form of speech, can at once be combined
with the optical drama in the realm of art. The reproduction
of speech, however, falls into the realm of the radiophone
and of television — a transfer into space of the material of facts
(news reels).

The acoustics and the general form of the cinema depend
essentially on the establishment of these facts, as do the
position of the orchestra, of the organ, and all related details.

There is no doubt whatever that the film is not a final goal,
but a transition to a new art which I call OPTO-
PHOXETICvS. The house of Optophonetics, as the ideal
cinema, is the OPTOPHON.

The problems which determined my plans and which have
received an entirely original solution bv me were :

1. The elementary difference between Theatre and Cinema-
architecture. 2. The possibilities of utilizing film theatres
when there is nothing on the screen. 3. The variety of
architectural forms according to the capacity of the house.
4. The problem of handling the audience in the cinema (the
traffic problem in the cinema). 5. Light-intermissions (con-
tinuous and discontinuous method of presentation). 6. The

CLOSE L'l

Auditorium (more seats and more comfort). 7. Decoration.
8. The ideal screen. 9. The ideal projection-box. 10. The
new acoustics. 11. Musicians and mechanized music. 12.
The color problem. 13. The fover. 14. The entrance into
tl^e auditorium. 15. The ticket box. IG. The facade. 17.
The entrance.

Frederick Kiesler.

CECIL B. DE MILLE

Xew York, autumn, 191 •). The particular da\' is
immatericil. Two men are lingering over their luncli
together, discussing plans for a new venture.

One of them, at thirtv-three, is alreadv a veteran soldier of
fortune. He has been a newspaper reporter in San Francisco ;
a gold hunter in Alaska; a cornet player in a Honolulu
orchestra; the manager for a prestidigitator in Xew York:
and is now a vaudeville booking agent. The other, a vear
\'otmger, the son of a dramatist and one-time college professor,
is an actor in a Xew York stock companv. He has also played
in road shows; has sung in light opera; has managed a
theatrical companv; has written several plays; and has been
an assistant producer, with David Belasco.

Fach has worked hard to win a name for himself; but the
big world has so far failed to recognise either of them.
Instead, she h.as given both of them many rude bumps and

CLOSE UP

much discouragement — a gloomy trick which fate now and
again employs for the making of brilliant history.

This was fifteen years ago. The two young men whom
niggardly fortune was that day prompting to seek a new
outlet for their ambitions were Jesse Lasky and Cecil de Mille.
They had heard of a little place in Southern California called
Hollywood, where conditions were reported as ideal for
making motion pictures. They would pool their experiences
and their talents and what little capital they had between
them, go out to the Coast, and try their luck with this pioneer
enterprise.

It was a bold undertaking ; w^ith a touch, too, of defiance
and rebellion in it. Especially for De Mille, the man of the
stage, and steeped in the atmosphere of its classic traditions.
For the cinema then was outside the pale of legitimacy. An
Ishmaelite, unworthy of welcome or recognition. Crude,
cheap, trivial, born of a toy, and without pedigree, it had no
place among the chosen.

But with his gift of vision De Mille foresaw the possibilities
of this little waif of the amusement world. Its present chief
handicap was lack of opportunity. He saw in it a new form
of dramatic art, as yet wholly uncertain of itself and groping
for adequate expression. He would bring to it the teachings
and experiences of his own historic profession ; invest it with
definition, life, beauty, meaning; endow it with the technique
of the theatre ; substitute its awkward presentations with
genuine drama translated from the stage.

And so the modern photoplay was conceived, and a few
months later had its birth in Hollyw^ood with the production
of The Squaw Man.

CLOSE UP

Lacking sufficient funds between them to carry on the
venture, De Mille and Lasky secured the financial partnership
of Samuel Goldwyn, and these three, together with Dustin
Farnum, the actor, constituted the original organisation.
Others who were invited to come in and lend support to the
infant enterprise shook their heads and tucked their pocket-
books out of sight. What did De Mille and his associates
know about making moving pictures? In truth, they knew
nothing about it ; nor would they have been any better
equipped if they had known w^hat little there w^as to know about
it at that time. Quite frankly, they were adventurers, pioneers,
experimenters, setting out to do something different, some-
thing new, something worth while; and a common faith in
De Mille's vision and a trust in his native ability as a director
inspired them with the assurance of success.

A few thousand dollars invested then in that faith and that
trust w^ould to-day be worth as many millions. And to-day
there are individuals in Hollywood, thankful to earn a hun-
dred a week, who were offered this opportunity, and who not
only declined it, but, as one friend to another, also
admonished De Mille against throwing away his future.
Faith in Providence is common enough, but faith in man
and events calls for inspired courage.

The history of the photoplay and its development are
personified in De Mille — epitomised in his Hollywood career
as director and producer. He began his work in an abandoned
barn ; its stalls serving as dressing rooms. He and Lasky,
as well as the actors and the hired hands, walked to work
each morning and brought their lunches with them in paper
bags. The stage in the rear of the barn was open to the air

CLOSE UP

and sunlight. The dependable California sun was then the
one and only means of lighting a set. Strips of white cloth
were hung on overhead wires and moved back and forth to
secure a proper diffusion of light. The sets were built of
compoboard or of canvas stretched on wooden frames. A
shelf of books, a rose trellis, or any other desired bit of
background was provided by a scene painter.

These primitive devices were not peculiar to the Lasky
companw They represented the then common mode of
picture making. And it was De Mille, brimming with ideas
and calling on his extensive knowledge of the theatre, who
instituted the first radical changes. It was he who introduced

practical " sets and properties — real, usable, substantially
built walls, doors, windo\\s, bookcases, stairwavs, pillars,
fireplaces. And those who believe that the camera does not
detect tlie difference between the semblance and the substance
need only compare some of the early-day films with those of
the present.

It was De Mille, too, who introduced artificial lighting, and
thereby led the motion picture away from its primitive flat
photography to true pictorial values. Here is the story of the
genesis of this innovation, as told by De Mille himself in a
lecture at Harvard University a year or two ago :

When we first went to California we used only sunlight. There was no
artificial light employed at all. Having come from the stage, I was desirous
of getting a certain effect in a picture I was making of The Warrens of
Virginia. The particular scene was that of a spy coming through a
curtain, and I wanted to light only half of his face. So I borrowed a
spotlight from an old theatre in Los Angeles, and gave his face just a smash
of light from one side, the other side going dark. I saw the effect on the
screen and carried out that idea of lighting all through the rest of the
picture — that is, a smash of light from one side or the other; a method
tiiat we now >ise constantly.

CLOSE UP

When I sent the picture on to the sales department I received a most
amazing telegram from the then head of the department, saying, " Have
you gone mad? Do you expect us. to be able to sell a picture for full price
when you show only half of the man?" And the exhibitor, in his turn,
offered the same protest — that the picture was no good because we showed
only half of the man. So the sales department wired me again, " We
don't know what to do; we can't sell the picture."

^For a moment I was in despair. But, as I have already told vou, it is
the duty of a director to meet all emergencies. In this instance Allah was
good to me and suggested the phrase " Rembrandt lighting." So I
telegraphed the New York office : " If you fellows don't know Rem^brandt
lighting when you see it, don't blame me."

The sales department, greatly impressed, exclaimed, Rembrandt
lightingi What a sales argumenti " On the strength of that they took
the picture out and charged the exhibitor twice as much for it — because
it had Rembrandt lighting.

And that is the origin of the present-day use of artificial lighting.

But while De Mille thus drew upon his experiences with the
theatre for many of the teclinical innovations in picture
making, he came in time to reahse the limitations of stage
technique in this new field. And while he was the first to give
dramatic dignity to the screen by replacing its paltry,
incoherent stories with plays taken from the stage, he soon
learned, also, that the screen demanded its own stories and
its own manner of presenting them.

Accordingly, while retaining all that was adaptable from
the stage, he developed the art of photodramaturgy within its
specialised field and in accordance with its individual
requirements.

His experiments with the close-up, with color, with
lighting, with camera effects, with stage settings, with various
mechanical and optical devices, together with his many
original ideas in scenario construction, to-day constitute the

CLOSE UP

basis of much that enters into tne craft of picture making and
gives the screen its distinctive character and import.

Judged by his pictures, De Mille's rank as a director must
be left to individual appraisement, as must that of any other
director. Cinema standards are still too indefinite, and
popular tastes too varied, to permit of any acceptable common
ground for comparison. Relative values of accomplishment
can only be intelligently determined in historical perspective,
and the perspective of screen history is yet too short for such
determination. The only practical criterion at present
possible is that of success ; and according to this, as measured
in fame and fortune, together with a record of fifteen fruitful
years without a failure, the rank of first place among cinema
directors belongs unquestionably to Cecil de Mille.

The making of pictures is to him primarily what the writing
of a book is to the novelist or the building of a bridge to an
engineer — the joy of creative w^ork. And its unparalleled
diversity of scope, together with its never-ending problems
and possibilities, has its especial appeal to a man of De Mille's
temperament and serves as a constant challenge to his energies
and resourcefulness.

Picture making embraces not only all fields of creative art,
but it calls also for the balancing elements of business
sagacity, for the skill of generalship, and for the experienced
ability of the showman. And in each of these practical
respects De Mille is as much the adept as he is in the realm of
the imagination.

Moreover, he has not concerned himself with any attempted
educating of the masses. He has left that for those afflicted
with the missionary spirit. He realises, in agreement with

CLOSE UP

Confucius, that you can guide the people, but you cannot
enlighten them. He accepts them as he finds them, but with
mind and energies ever alert to give guidance to their
developing picture tastes and their self-created readiness to
respond to advanced thought and more subtle forms of art
presentation.

Of De Mille's fifty-three pictures, only two have been
relatively lacking in popularity — The Whispering Chorus
and The Road to Yesterday, The first, produced about ten
years ago, is a sombre psychological study; and the latter,
which was released in 1925, deals with the occult subject of
reincarnation. Each of them was purposely experimental, a
testing of the public's reaction to a theme of spiritual import
treated with appropriate artistry.

Although they cleared a financial profit, these two pictures
were more or less of a popular disappointment. Yet,
artistically speaking, they are to be recorded among the best
things De Mille has ever done. Particularly is this true of
The Road to Yesterday. As an example of photodramatic
craftsmanship it is singularly beautiful and significant. It
serves to demonstrate what De Mille is truly capable of doing,
and offers a glimpse of what we may expect from him when
the Jacks and Mollies of the Vv^orld, to whom his work is wisely
dedicated, are prepared to accept and enjoy the higher reaches
of cinema art.

Clifford Howard.

CLOSE UP

COMMENT AND REVIEW

All enquiries, subsrriptions, business matters, mav be
addressed by English • readers or by readers in England to
the London office at 24, Devonshire Street, London, W.C.I.
Editorial matter should be sent to Switzerland, however, and
not to the London address. Will those whom it mav concern
kindlv note this.

* * '

The list of recommended tilms is again held over until the
next issue on account of the summer vacation. Next month
it will be amplified, and indications given for the autumn lists
of the various companies. Also a list of film.s to be avoided,
which has already been suggested bv various readers.

* * *

Berlin has just been rewarded bv several revivals, number-
ing among them an early Lubitsch, in which Pola Negri, as
an Arab girl in beads, is wooed bv Harrv Liedke in a sun
helmet, and persecuted by Emil Jannings in a robe. Pola
gives in the course of this presentation the world's most
unseductive Eastern dance, weighed down by jet and chiffon.
Harry Liedke is not so fat, and Jannings painted brown is
reminiscent of the Duncan sisters' Topsy and Eva. Two

Photo: Derussa

significantlv powerful photograph of J. Tschuwilelf as the country
orker \vho comes to St, Petersburg, in Pudowkin's wonderful film
The End of St. Petershitvg.

•sburg

Photo: Derussa

The worker is cast into prison. Tschuwileft, who is by profession
an accountant, and had never before played in films, has caused such
a sensation in The End of St. Petevshur^, that it is expected he will
take up film work as a 'career. Pabst has already booked him for

his next film.

Photos : Derussa

W. Baranowskaja again takes her opportunity to make her part
unforgettable in beauty and in grief.

- ' — ' ^ .

■r ^ CD

C CO 03
O ^ <U »-i
^ ^ 03 ct

^ ^ PP 05

w 03

he (D

03 7} • - ^
*H T3 'C '^.Td

S a;
^ rH rij

£ :3 ^ o

Patriots in St. Petersburg are ecstatic at the nobility of their fellow
countrymen. Here is one of them enjoying the sufferings of war.

P hoi OS : Derussa

And here are the noble fellow countrymen, soon to become " rabble,
fiends, and devils." War as war, and war as flag waving, and
flower-decked guns are set side by side in this film with shattering

contrast.

The Yelloi^ Passport (Der Geihe Pass) Anna Sten (standing by post)
is caught in a park raid, and denounced as a prostitute.

Photos : Derussa

In the House. A more expHcit, and swiftly drawn interior of a
brothel has not yet been seen, The director of The YcUo:.i Passport
was F. Ozep, who also wrote the manuscript.

CLOSE UP

potted palms and a cartload of sand are the Sahara, and it is
interesting to note early use of the travelling camera, which
recedes in front of jannings' advancing and threatening
figure. Pola is so rent by this harrowing spectacle she falls
down dead. Herr Jannings stabs himself and Liedke rushes
out into the night, while a final sub-tible savs " Too late, too
late."

Next an early (and how !) Henny Porten. Could it really
have been made in 1901? Henny 's hair is like two bolsters,
one perched one either temple. Her waist is 16 inches, and as
she walks her skirt picks up and deposits all the dust of the
vicinitv. This is a strong drama with " fast scenes ", and
has an aged father and a lover she meets on street corners.
Next a 1912 Asta Nielsen. This was perhaps the most re-
w^arding of the three. Close ups and panning camera show
film technique well on the move. Asta Nielsen is gorgeous,
and even then was the Nielsen of to-day — a great actress, with
subtle and exlraordinarv magnetism. Dressed as a small girl,
getting in everybody's way, an overgrown hoyden in the toils
of first love, this film, with its ample view of her beautifully
thin legs (and all that thereon is), was certainly one of those
which must have caused countless elderly persons to begin to
say what they and their offspring have gone on saying ever
since, Those dreadful films. They are corrupting the youth
of the w^hole world !" Its wildest abandon, needless to say,
was positively ascetic in comparison with modern films of
similar genre, but there it is. It was charming to see Asta
Nielsen — then at the height of her youthful beauty — so
integral, and sound, and convincing.

Other revivals have come from the early beginnings of

CLOSE UP

cinematography, when emotions were registered like im-
promptu dumb charades. Sub-title : She is overcome with
remorse. View of lady in plush chair with pompoms, and a
palm on a stand. She jigs backward and forward, slapping
herself heartily on the forehead and masticating her mouth as
far in every direction as she can reach. Flings her hands
heavenward. Rolls her eyes, and that is that. She sits there
waiting for her next emotion.

Indeed, revivals seem to be the order of the day. Paris and
Switzerland have shown a most entertaining series of news
reels, entitled Paris Twenty Years Ago. The Tauentzien
Palast gives sly insertions of hand-coloured fashions for ladies
worn by the most restless mannequins it is possible to con-
ceive. And dramas from the school of the dying child, where
a large, fat and elderly female angel appears from a puff of
smoke, and waddling to the bed, hoists up the departing spirit
with considerable difficulty and again vanishes in a puff of
smoke, while father is gambolling with loose women in the
nearest house of ill repute.

These films are greeted with pure delight. The public love
them, and they have, moreover, a real value. It occurred to
the writer during one of them, for which a large, important
voice was supplied to amplify the absurdity, that here was the
logical effect that must come of the talkie. Scenes over pro-
longing themselves to the point of sheer meaninglessness
while the characters speak their beastly lines. The talkie will
be a matter of changing the film in order to suit the spoken
matter. In other words, the film will play second fiddle to a
noise you can have far more convincingly in the nearest
Hippodrome.

CLOSE UP

We think it will interest our readers to know that among the
films Avhich may be rented from Messrs. Wardour Ltd. for
private showing (at two guineas) are the following : —

Impetuous Youth (Czinner),

The Waltz Dream,

The Two Brothers,

Faust,

Wrath of the Gods,

Cinderella,

Secrets of the Soul,

Metropolis,

Prey of the Wind (Rene Clair),
as well as many others, some of w^hich, of course, are worthless
for the student of cinematography.

HOLLYWOOD NOTES

The disinclination on the part of American producers to
import foreign films is being offset in increasing measure by
the importing of foreign actors and directors. During the
past several months many studio executives have visited
Europe, and not one has returned without having contracted
for further notable additions to Hollyw^ood's already numerous
foreign colony.

Typical of this situation is Samuel Goldwyn's recent
acquisition of Lily Damita, whose w^ork in German and
Hungarian films has given her an international reputation.

CLOSE UP

Pabst, Wiene and Curtiz are numbered among the notable
directors of her European pictures, among which will be
'remembered Red Hills, Coach iVo. 13, The Road to
Happiness, The Queen Was in the Parlor, Butterfly on the
Wheel, The Adventuress, as well as others no less noteworthy.

Her first role in an American film will be that of Mrs.
Travers in the screen adaptation of Joseph Conrad's The
Rescue, to be directed by Herbert Brenon. Ronald Colman
is cast as the star, in the character of Tom Lingard, while
Theodore von Eltz will play the part of Carter. Others in the
cast are Bernard Siegel, Duke Kahanamoku, the champion
Hawaiian swimmer, and the distinguished Japanese actor,
Sojin.

^ =^

HoUywood's present vogue of catering to international
interest by employing foreign actors and directors in many of
its leading productions is further strikingly exemplified by
Goldwyn's forthcoming picture, The Aivakening. Heading
the cast are Vilma Banky, the Hungarian star, and Walter
Byron, a former officer of the British Royal Fusiliers. The
storv is laid in Alsace-Lorraine. A troop of German Uhlans
plays a prominent part in it: and with one exception (Capt.
Richard Murphy, of the 2nd Field Artillery, United States
Army), the principal characters of this troop are impersonated
by foreign armv ofticers. Six of them are former German
Uhlans themselves, and the others include military repre-
sentatives of England, Australia, Finland, Sweden, Austria
and Russia. The Russian is General Wiatsheslav Savitsky,
who for eighteen years was a member of the personal body-
guard of the late Czar. During the War he commanded a

CLOSE UP

cavalry division against the Germans, and now by a bizarre
quirk of fate he appears in the role of an Uhlan officer.

H. B. Warner, the English actor, who has only recently
been afforded an opportunity to display in full measure his
splendid talents and versatility, through the medium of The
King of Kings and Sorrell and Soji, is scheduled to play a
leading role in Warner Brothers vitaphone production, The
Candle of the Wind. Monte Blue will share stellar honors
with him, and Michael Curtiz will direct the picture. A novel
feature of the story is its antarctic locale ; but that which will
undoubtedly most appeal to admirers of Warner is the oppor-
tunity offered by the film to hear his voice on the screen.

Following this he will be starred in two pictures to be
produced bv a newly-formed Hollywood company, the
Quality Corporation. The tentative titles of the pictures are
Drink and The Romance of a Rogue,

^ ^ ^

A celluloid version of Poe's morbid story. The Tell-Tale
Heart, is Hollywood's latest contribution to the collectanea of
art films. It had its initial showing at the Filmarte Theatre,
and received instant recognition as an opus of unusual
character and craftsmanship — perhaps the most finished
production of its kind that has yet come out of the Hollywood
proper. The psychology of the story — the effect upon the
madman of the beating of his victim's heart — presents a dis-
tinctly difficult problem for film translation ; yet at the hand of
Charles F. Klein, the translator and the creator of the picture.

CLOSE UP

'^together with the admirable acting of Otto Mattiesen, the task
has been accomplished with almost uncanny fidelity.

Klein has brought to the work not only a long European
experience as a cameraman with such companies as Emelka
and UFA, but also a rare versatility of artistic and technical
abilities, coupled with native skill as a director. While much
of the camera work on the picture is his own, he had the
assistance of Leon Shamroy, the young Russian cameraman,
whose notable work in The Last Moment definitely established
him as one of the few real camera geniuses of Hollywood.

* * *

Concrete evidence that the Hollywood producers are
assured of the permanence of phono-films, or talking movies,
is offered by the Fox Company in their recent construction of
a five-hundred-thousand-dollar movietone film laboratory.
In keeping with the present trend of studio architecture, the
building is an artistic structure of Spanish motif. One of the
leading engineers of the Eastman Kodak Company was
employed to supervise its construction and the equipment of
its various departments. Besides its departments for experi-
mental work, chemical research, and movietone printing, the
laboratory contains several projection rooms, a screen
laboratory, a machine shop, twenty dark rooms and a number
of offices.

* * *

Following a number of pictures in which the vitaphone was
used to a greater or less extent, the Warner Brothers have now
produced a film which is equipped from beginning to end
with their sound device. The title of the picture, credit

CLOSE UP

titles, the cast, sub-titles, and dialog titles are all spoken from
the film. No printed words appear on the screen for any
purpose. The picture is an adaptation of Edgar Wallace's
stage play, The Terror, popular for many years in England.
The cast consists of Edward Everet Horton, May McAvoy,
Alec Francis, Louise Fazenda, Holmes Herbert and John
Miljean.

* *

William K. Howard's latest picture. The River Pirate,
directed for the Fox Company, has won him a five-year con-
tract w^ith that company. The River Pirate is a w^orthy
successor to his many previous picture achievements, notably
White Gold, Gigolo, and His Country, and is destined to win
him further recognition as one of Hollywood's most capable
and artistic directors.

^ ^

•TV* "TV" "TV"

Exclusive " stills " from the Biblical sequence of Warner
Brothers' two-million-dollar cinema spectacle, NoaWs Ark,
directed by Michael Curtiz, appear in this issue. Close Up has
the privilege of being first in the field to print scenes from this
yet unfinished production, of w^hich no other photographs
have yet appeared. The leading roles are played by Dolores
Costello and George O'Brien. Others in the cast include
Xoah Beery, Louise Fazenda, Nigel de Brulier, Guinn
Williams, Anders Randolph, Armand Kaliz, Myrna Loy,
William Mong and ]\Ialcolm Waite.

All of these actors play parts in both the deluvian and the
modern secjuences of the film. In the former. Miss Costello
enacts the role of a fictitious character, Miriam, whom Noah's

CLOSE UP

son Japheth, in the person of O'Brien, rescues from the flood
and gives refuge in the ark.

Imagination is given free rein in this Noachian chapter of
the picture story, and Curtiz here indulges himself in spec-
tacular fancy and untramme^ed fiction. The action takes
place for the most part in and about a gigantic temple
dedicated to idolatry and orgiastic rites, typifying the moral
corruption which aroused the Lord's determination to destroy
the world. The scenes of the flood overwhelming this temple
and its thousands of worshippers are stupendously impres-
sive, and accompanied, as they will be, by magnified sound
effects, they present a spectacle of almost terrifying realism.

The picture is scheduled to be released the latter part of
the year.

"Tv" "TV"

The Tell-Tale Hearty a Hollywood film version of Poe's
gruesome psychological story, was produced and directed by
Charles F. Klein, with Leon Shamroy as cameraman and
Otto Matiesen enacting the role of the madman of the story.

The picture, which is in two reels, is admirably done.
Direction, acting and camera work unite perfectlv in har-
monising the film with the spirit and atmosphere of the weird
tale of the madman who is driven to murder an inoffensive
old man because of a vulture-like expression in one of his
eyes, and whose heart-beat, as he is about to be killed, preys
upon the mind of the murderer and compels him to reveal
his crime after he has cunningly concealed the body and
successfully overcome the suspicions of the law officers.

CLOSE UP

The Last Moment, sl film study in subjectivity, was
produced in sympathetic collaboration by Paul Fejos as the
director, Otto Matiesen as the actor, and Leon Shamroy as
the cameraman — Hungary, Scandinavia, Russia, in a
brotherhood of artistry.

The picture opens with a figure of a man (Matiesen) in
Pierrot costume sinking from sight in the dark night waters
of a lake. As his upraised hand disappears with a despairing
gesture, a lone bubble comes to the surface of the water.
Symbolic of the drowning man's final moment of life, the
bubble dissolves into a rapid succession of coherent yet
intermingled visions — life's panorama flashing in review
before his mind's eye — the vicissitudinous career of a man
ambitious to become a great actor, brought to a tragic close
by the death of his wife and his subsequent suicide. Forty
years compressed into sixty seconds. Five reels of celluloid
crowded with a phantasmagoric onrush of events, incidents,
tragedies, trivialities, loves, hates, impulses, emotions,
thoughts — flashing, fading, dissolving. No uttered line or
word. A film of dream-stuff.

The picture is one of Hollywood's most ambitious attempts
at cinematic psychologic analysis and subjective treatment.
None of its stills afford an adequate conception of it, for its
values are essentially and peculiarly involved in motion,
change, transition. Commercially, the film has won but
scant success ; but among the little theatres of the country it
is receiving the appreciation it deserves as a signal example
of the cinema's capabilities in the realm of impressionism.

C. H.

CLOSE UP

We beg to call attention to an error in our June and July
issues, in which the film Danton was announced in the
Lubitsch advertisement as having been made by that director.
Mr. Lubitsch's productions are as follows : —

1. Gypsy Blood

2. One Arabian Night

3. Passion ...

4. Deception

5. Momitain Cat ...

6. The Loves of Pharaoh

7. Montmartre

8. Rosita

9. Marriage Circle

10. Three Women ...

11. Forbidden Paradise

12. Kiss Me Again
.13. Lady Windermere^ s Fan

14. So This Is Paris

15. Old Heidelberg
IT), l^he Patriot

Berlin — Germany

Hollywood — California

CLOSE UP

BOOK REVIEWS

Two excellent textbooks for students interested in visual
instruction have reached us from America. They are both
published by the Educational Screen, 5, South Wabash
Avenue, Chicago, at the price of a dollar each. A money
order for this amount can be obtained easily at any post office,
and the average amount of time taken to obtain the volumes
if sent for from London would be just over a fortnight.

Picture Values in Education, by Weber, should be valuable
to all who teach. Everything is explained carefully, there is a
full description of some tests given with photographs, stereo-
graphs and magic lanterns, with some reference also to the
cinema. The general results of these tests were found very
favorable to the film-aided " lesson as the pupils under-
stood it better and enjoyed it more '\ In some instances
where the film was shown at the beginning of the lesson,
learning capacity was increased by as much as fifty per cent.
Four hundred and seventy-six voted on the method. The
result was thirteen to one in favor of it. Forty per cent, of the
children went to the cinema regularly outside lesson hours
and others apparently never went at all. It is interesting to
note that the results (with regard to the lesson) appeared to be
the same with either set of children.

Fundamentals in Visual Instruction, by Johnson, contains
much also of interest, including a very significant story that
the Central Illinois Railway, finding their losses terrific owing
to freight being improperly handled, showed a film to all the
men they employed which depicted the right methods to
handle it, and showed how it could be damaged if other
methods were employed. It is said that they reduced their

CLOSE UP

expenses through this film by over a million dollars.

Both these books deserve a place in the library of teachers
and those interested in cinematography from an educational
view point.

Les documents internationaux de Vesprit nouveau, cine
poemes de B. Fondane avec 2 photos de Man Ray, is a
privately printed book, and is indicative of one side of the
modern French feeling for the cinema. There are three
" avant garde " scenarios, and the two photographs are well
chosen. It is extremely difficult to judge a printed scenario,
which must depend upon its realisation in pictures for its
effects, but those who are in search of experimental scenarios
from a fantastic angle will find these cine poems worth their
attention. The format and printing of the book are extremely
tasteful and harmonious, and a real visual sense is apparent
in the form of the three scenarios. We are unaware if the
book is obtainable, but take this opportunity of thanking the
author for allowing us an opportunity to read it.

The Avenue Pavilion

101 Shaftesbury Avenue, W. 1

A GAUMONT-BRITISH THEATRE
The Home of International Film Art.

Managing Director - Reginald C. Bromhead. Manager - Leslie Ogilvie.
Director of Music - Arthur Dulay.

The following attractions will be presented exclusive to this theatre :

WAXWORKS

(The film which was banned).
Directed by Paul Leni. Featuring Emil Jannings, Conrad Veidt & Werner Krauss.

WARNING SHADOWS

Directed by Dr. Arthur Robinson. Featuring Ruth Weyher, Fritz Kortner, Fritz Rasp &

Alexander Granach.

KEAN

Directed by M. A. Volkoff. Featuring Ivan Mosjukine.

MARRIAGE OF THE BEAR

Directed by Konstantin Eggert. Featuring Konstantin Eggert.

STUDENT OF PRAGUE

Directed by Henrik Galeen. Featuring Conrad Veidt, Werner Krauss & Elizza la Porte.

ATONEMENT OF GOSTA BERLING

(From the story by Dr. Selma Lagerlof, for which she was awarded
the Nobel Prize. She is an Honorary Doctor of the University (Sweden).)
Directed by Mahritz Stiller. Featuring Lars Hansen, Greta Garbo, Jenny Hasselquist, Gerda
Lunequist Dahlstrom & Ellen Cederstrom.

The following are being negotiated :

Dr. CALIGARI, DESTINY, Dr. MABUSE, THE LAST LAUGH,
LOVES OF THE MIGHTY, &c.

The second feature general release include :

WOMEN ON TRIAL, SECRETS OF THE SOUL, GYPSY PRINCESS,

SNOWBOUND, HONEYMOON HATE, &c.

Buses to the Door : — Nos. la, ic, 14, 14a, 19c, igd, 22, 24, 29, 29a, 29b, 2gc, 38, 39, 48, 129, 138.

In view of the fact that Dates of forthcoming attractions are often unavoidably subject to alteration,
the Management respectfully request Patrons to be guided finally by the advertisements in the
following newspapers : — Daily Telegraph, Morning Post, Daily Express, Daily Chronicle, Evening

News, Star, and Standard.

Continuous Performances DAILY, commencing at 2 p.m. till 11 p.m. SUNDAYS 6 — ii
Each session lasts three hours, thereby making 3 sessions per day, viz : —

2 till 5 5 till 8 8 till 1 1

MATINEES recommended for comfortable choice of seats.

AV^nat 5 Happening
m A merica

along the line of visual
instruction in schools,
and in the general field of public
education, is presented in

Ue EDUCATIONAL SCREEN

The only magazine in the United States specifi-
cally devoted to the serious side of pictures

New thought on the subject

New productions in educational films

Current opinion on the Hollywood product

The Educational Screen is known
around the world.

Foreign subscription price :

3.00 for one year 4.00 for two years

THE EDUCATIONAL SCREEN, 5 S. WABASH AVENUE,
CHICAGO, U.S.A.

VOLKS-

FILM-VERBAND

All filmgoers who are tired of the reactionary tendencies, artistically, socially
and politically of the bad German films belong with us. Against the mass of
capital invested in reactionary films we must set the strength and enthusiasm
of our energetic organisation.

(Volksverband ftir Filmkunst) V*

For only 50 Pfennig all may join the membership of the Volks-Film-Verband
People' Film Association). Entrance Fee : 50 pf. Monthly subscription 50 pfg.

Board of Directors :

Heinrich Mann, Kathe Kollwitz, Prof. Alfons Goldschmid, Erwin Piscator,
Leonhardt Frank, Dr. Max Deri, Dr. Franz Hollering, Rudolf Schwarzkopf.

Artistic Committee :

Bela Balazs, Arthur Holitscher, Karl Freund, Edmund Meisel, G. W. Pabst,
Leo Lanis, Ernst Angel, Andor Kraszna-Kraus, Franze Dyck-Schnitzer,
Viktor Blum, I. A. Hubler-Kahla.

Join the Volks-Film-Verband

All information and prospectuses from the offices of the Association, Berlin
SW. 48, Friedrichstrasse 235, or from any of the branch offices.

What the Volks-Film-Verband has to offer :

1 . Free admittance to at least ten good films per year. If the costs of the Associa-
tion are in excess of this, the member has only the difference to pay.

2. Reports and estimates to promote understanding of the problems of the film.

3. The illustrated monthly film Magazine, Film und Volk at the reduced price
of 20 Pfg. (instead of 40 Pfg.) .

NOTICE OF MEMBERSHIP

To the Volksverband fiir Filmkunst, Berlin SW. 48, Friedrichstrasse 235.
I herewith declare my entrance into the Volksverband fiir Filmkunst E. V.
Enclosed is my entrance fee of 50 Pfg., and the monthly fee of not more than

50 Pfg. for months making a total of Marks, for which postal

order (cheque or stamps) is enclosed.

Orders and cheques payable to the Workers' Bank at S 14, Wallstrasse 65,
for a/c. No. 6210 (Volks-Film-Verband).

Name

Occupation

Address

yoin the Jilm bureau

Locate and see only the
better motion pictures

Don't waste time and money seeing
the inferior, uninteresting, stupid
picture when there are really good
pictures to be seen.

Disinterested Advice from
A Discriminating Source

The Film Bureau offers its subscribers
A year's subscription (six issues) to
the Film Bulletin (a monthly guide
to the best pictures), November to
April inclusive. Complimentary and
specially priced tickets for some of
the best pictures. Privately screened
pictures. Service in arranging enter-
tainments in connection with motion
pictures. A fifty per cent discount
in renting The Bureau's Portable
^Motion Picture ^Machines (for private
screenings). An office information ser-
vice and special advantages when it
opens its own Little Picture House.
The subscription is ten dollars a year.

Join now. AppHcation cards and other
data (including a complimentary copy of
the film bulletin) mailed on request

Film Bureau, 4 West 40th
Street, New York, N.Y.

" The best voice in a wilderness
of films''

That is what a New York motion picture man has said about The Film Spectator,
edited by Welford Beaton and published in Holh-wood.

Two years ago Welford Beaton conceived the idea of a new magazine devoted to the
production and criticism of motion pictures. It was to be a publication that was
different from others — one that did not fear facts — one that might not always be right,
but one that would be courageous and honest.

Now The Spectator is acclaimed by public and press and Mr. Beaton is referred to
as " America's, most discerning motion picture critic". He tells the truth about
pictures and the people who make them with rare ability. Hundreds of heartening
letters of commendation have been received.

** Read The Spectator ? Of coursei! Where else could I find the same spirit of
courage, conviction, and joyous contempt for consequences ?" — Samuel Hopkins
Ad.\ms.

" I read the Film Spectator with increasing interest. There is vigorous and
excellent wTiting in it." — H. L. Men'CKEN.

*' The Film Spectator reveals its editor as a writer of practically perfect English, and
as a man with an analytical mind, a sense of humour and a profound knowledge of the
screen." — Arthur D. Howden Smith.

" I naturally receive many magazines — all deadhead, bye the way, except The Film
Spectator ! — but the latter is the only one of the lot I read, or have read, from cover to
cover. And that is not because I pay for it, either." — Stew.\rt Edward White.

" The numbers sent me confirs Mr. Ralph Flint's suggestions to me that your
magazine is truly the best voice in the wilderness of films. Not only do I find your
judgments honest, but they are penetratingly just." — Symox Gould. Executive
Director, Film Arts Guild, New York.

" I find more sound sense in what you write about the present situation than in
anything that has ever been said or written about it." — John W. Ru:msey. (President
American Play Co. Inc., New York.

" Welford Beaton is America's most discerning motion picture critic." — London
(England) Express.

" Welford Beaton ... a literate writer of motion picture criticism . . . his
opinion has been uniformly sound." — Neuc York World.

Subscription for one 3'ear S5.00, foreign $6.00. Single copies free on request.''

are some

comments :

" THE FILM SPECTATOR," 7213 Sunset Blvd. Hollywood, Calif.

Please find enclosed %

.for yearly subscription to " The Film Spectator.

Name

Address

Subscription Blank

Readers are reminded that in many instances subscriptions
expire with this issue. They are cautioned to fill in this
blank immediately and either hand it to their bookseller
or send direct to :

POOL
RIANT CHATEAU
TERRITET
SWITZERLAND

Kindly enter my subscription to Close Up for one year indicate
which six months.

Commencing I enclose ( cheque for

(postal order

Subscription rate (14 shillings) per year by post
(3 dollars 50)

Name

Address

LES EDITIONS

Pierre Braunberger

vendent

dans 2^

— monde

entier

les

meilleurs

films

Ave:(^-vous hesoin d'un conseil

ARTISTIQUE? TECHNIQUE?
COMMERCIAL ? FINANCIER ?

^ous vous mettrons en relation avec les meilleurs sp'ecialistes
du monde cinematographique

15 avenue Matignon 15

PARIS VHP

Telephone : Elysee 86-84

THE DIAL

A MONTHLY MAGAZINE
OF ART AND LITERATURE

FOUNDED 1880

EDITOR : MARIANNE MOORE

BY FRANCIS F. BROWNE

ADVISER : SCOFIELD THAYER

^mong recent contributors are :

W. C. BLUM
KENNETH BURKE
E, E. CUMMINGS
H. D.

FRANK DOBSON

RALPH CHEEVER DUNNING

ROGER FRY

ALYSE GREGORY

GASTON LACHAISE

MARIE LAURENCIN

D. H. LARWENCE
THOMAS MANN
PAUL MORAND
RAYMOND MORTIMER
PABLO PICASSO
PAUL ROSENFELD
GERTRUDE STEIN
PAUL VALERY

WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

, . . ojten full of very inter esting things, and is so well printed,
and makes for good all round!' The Mask, July 1925

ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION FIVE DOLLARS

(Foreign postage 60 cents additional)

^Address

152 WEST 13th STREET NEW YORK

A Young Society

NEOFILM

groups young producers under
the artistic and technical direction
of Alberto Cavalcanti who
directed the 3 first Neofilm
productions

RIEN QUE EES HEURES

EN RADE

ANDRE GIDE and MARC ALLEGRETS
Travel Picture

is a Neofilm Production

YVETTE

L,a plus importante revue francaise

de Qinema

La Cinematograpkie
Francaise

CHAQUE SEMAINE TOUTES LES NOUVELLES DU CINEMA

Films en Preparation
Analyses Jes Nouveaux Films
Ckromque Je L Exploitation

Ckronique Fmanciere

LES PROGRE5 DE LA TECHNIQUE
LES NOUVELLES INVENTIONS

Ch(ouvelles Angleterre^ Amerique, Allemagne, Espagne^ Italic

DIRECTEUR R^DACTEUR EN CHEF : P.-A. HARLfi
5 RUE SAULNIER PARIS (9^)

Telephone : Provence 02. 13

SENSATIONAL BOOKS

Anatomy of Atotion Picture Art

By Eric Elliott, Price 6 shillings.

" A sound piece of reasoning fully informed, coolly measured, and
based upon a knowledge of aesthetics that extends considerably
farther than that of the ordinary critic of the screen." — Manchester
Guardian.

" One would willingly pay a guinea for Anatomy of Motion Picture
Art. Mr. Elliott avoids any of the emotional rhetoric which mediocrity
seems to bring to a consideration of the movies. . . . Nearly every-
thing he says makes one pause to think." — The London Mercury.

Anatomy of Motion Picture Art should be read by all cinema-
goers. It is a true contribution toward the artistic progress of the film.

By Bryher. Price 7 shillings and 6 pence.

Being an indictment of war and the people who make it, the preface
gives food for thought : " The characters and incidents in this book
are not fictitious." She is earnest to record, not to create ... it
switches swiftly and informingly from one incident or episode to
another . ' ' — Manchester Guardian .

Gaunt Island

By Kenneth Macpherson. Price 7 shillings and 6 pence.
Only a few copies of this book remain.

Order Form.
Please supply the following book (s) :

ClVllll

.lans

Name (Mr., Mrs. or Miss)

Address

_ TO POOL
RIANT CHATEAU
TERRITET
SWITZERLAND

Postal order for

Cheque
Postage on all books 6d. extra.

is enclosed.

BOUND VOLUMES

of Close Up

" Reference books for the future

Volume two (Jan. -June), bound in vellum or boards, is still
obtainable. This is a convenient form in which to have Close Up,
as it will be a reference book for the future, and single copies are
apt to be mislaid, lost or torn.

Close Up, bound in white vellum, is the ideal book for a gift or for
collectors. It is priced at 12 shilHngs and 6 pence.

Orange cloth-back board volum'es are priced at 10 shilHngs.

Close Up, Vol. 2 will be invaluable in a few years time, containing
a fund of information, and details which would otherwise be for-
gotten, as well as beautiful and exclusive photographs from the best
current films. In twenty years' time these will be as unique and
rare as are stills from films produced twenty years ago. Buy Close
Up now for the future !

Order Form

Please supply Close Up, Vol. 2 bound '^^jlf^.^^^i^^i, ^^^^^^

Name

Address

Postal Order (Vellum 12/6)

Cheque is enclosed for (Boards 10/-)

Postage on all volumes 6d. extra

Hand this form to your bookseller, or send direct to

POOL, Ri^^at Chateau, Territet, Switzerland.

Tke future of
Book^ .

may Le tlie decision of a later
age, no one can tliinL. carelessly of a world
witLout Books. Too many may Le printed, Lut

tke Reader s remedy is simp le. Re gister your
preferences witL Jolm an d EJ ward Biimpus, wno
for tlie sake of your Reading and tlieir R eputation
will keep you advised of tlie absolute Lest.

Wri te or Plioiie A4ayfair 12 23

JOHN & EDWARD BUMPU5 LTD.

By Appointment to His Majesty the King
At tLe OU MaryleL one W^atcL House,

35o OXFORD STREET, LONDON, W.i

T'he efforts of your publication
should be the efforts of all
those who believe in the artistic
possibilities of the film.

In the interest of these endeavors^
I wish you abundant success.

MARIA CORDA AND ALEXANDER CORDA
Star and Director

The Private Life of Helen of Troy

SPEND LESS

Have 'Better ^Movies

HOW much money have you spent on motion pictures
since you started the hobby ? Ever figure it up ? You
could have saved many dollars of that extra expense
if vou had had expert advice about motion pictures.
The CIN^-MINIATURE is the great all-movie publication
that helps you know your camera, projector and
accessories thoroughly — that shows you how to get
better movies at less expense.

The CINfi MINIATURE is just like a complete
ever-improving education in amateur motion pictures —
the twelve big issues that you get for §2*50 would
cost many times as much if they were in book form.
Movie makers everywhere are demanding The CINE-
MINIATURE because they know there is no other
publication like it. Be a movie expert yourself — have
the latest thing in movies at the least expense.

See your dealer for single copies at 25c. (1/3) ; or
send 82*50 (12/-) to the publishers for a year's subscription.

CINEMATOGRAPHIC PUBLISHERS

58 West Washington Street,
Chicago, Ilhnois, U.S.A.

. Impressed by
THE MERCURY PRESS LTD.
LONDON ILFORD CHELMSFORD

Tel. : Central 5316-7 Tel. : Ilford 2018-9 Tel. : Chelmsford 516

ENGLAND

1928

Sole American and Canadian Distributors :

THE FILM ARTS GUILD
Soo FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

Through whom all enquiries in America and
Canada with reference to Close Up should
be made.

An International Magazine Devoted to Film Art

With Exclusive Photographs from the Best Films

RUSSIAN CINEMA NUMBER

I shilling or 5 francs (French) or i mark (German)
35 cents I franc (Swiss) shillings (Austrian)

Vol. Ill No. 3

SEPTEMBER 1928

CLOSE UP

SEPTEMBER 1928

I Shilling
5 Francs
I Mark
35 Cents
I Franc Swiss

CLOSE UP

Editor : K. Macpherson
Assistant Editor : Bryher

Published by POOL
Riant Chateau • Territet • Switzerland

Contents

As Is

Russian Films .
Progress .
Writers and Pictures
Six Russian Films
Making Little Films .
Dope or Stimulus
Comment and Review

Kenneth Macpherson
Richard Watts, Jun.
H.D.

OSWELL BlAKESTON

Clifford Howard
K.M.

P. A. le Neve Foster
Bryher

Paris Correspondent : Marc Allegret

London Correspondent : Robert Herrixg
Hollywood Correspondent : Clifford Howard
New York Editor : Symon Gould

Berlin Correspondent : A. Krazsna-Krausz
Geneva Correspondent : F. Chevalley

Subscription Rates :
ENGLAND . . 14 shillings per year
FRANCE ... 70 francs per year
GERMANY . . 14 marks per year
AMERICA . . 3 dollars and 50 cents per year

CLOSE UP

Vol. Ill No. 3 September 1928

AS IS

BY THE EDITOR.

We have called this a Russian number. We had to, be-
cause with a rush of new films from Russia into Germany,
there was nothing else to write about. Everything else paled
into insignificance. But don't be misled by the term. By
Russian number we do not mean that in this issue, and this
issue alone we imagine we can give one fraction of the con-
sideration and attention necessary. We can only make a
beginning. Russia has imposed — without knowing it — a
difficult task on Close Up. For we cannot begin where
Russia begins. The ground is not yet ready. Before critical
discussions can be made, an impartially critical attitude must
be established, and before we can begin to cope with the films
as films, we have to cope with the public which has been care-
fully nurtured to believe that all Russian films are veiled digs
at Europe's dwindling thrones, or that — as a London critic
(who had probably seen only The Postmaster in the whole
course of his career) said — even the Russian films, of which

CLOSE UP

the highbrows talk so loftily, have only the same old stories,
and the screen needs new material, etc., etc.

And you can get up and say Bunk to this, but it doesn't get
you far, because if you start to dilate on the many excellen-
cies; of the New Technique, of the virtual regeneration, or
rather the revolution of the film, of its utterly new adaptation
and use, most of your listeners will dislike you for being
superior, or else breathe ardently I know, I know. The Way
of All Flesh was like that." And where have you got to?
Certainly no further forward than you were.

To begin to prepare the ground then, if you are going to
state that the Russian film is a thing apart, and a new splen-
dour to the earth, you must give reasons. And you would be
safe to say fairly early that not all of them are splendid or
good or even bad, but that the important films, the super
films are almost without exception, marvellous. Those who
have seen only the early ones — The Marriage of the Bear^
The Postmaster, Poly Kuschka, with their strong adherence
still to the theatre, are in no way equipped to judge of the
developments wrought by such masters are Eisenstein,
Pudowkin, Room, Preobrashenskaja, Stabavoj, and several
others. The impasse has arrived when not to have seen the
films of these masters means that one is actually left behind
in this onrush, and one's conception of the cinema dated.
And how many have or will have the chance to see them ? I
don't mean hacked and changed and mutilated and misre-
presented with false subtitles, but straight and in their ori-
ginal form? How can this resolve itself? How can Russia
go on making films so far ahead of those made anywhere
else, and any sort of balance remain? You cannot have one

CLOSE UP

country being ten or twenty years ahead in its ideas of other
countries. And if Russia is going to continue as it has
started, and we are going to continue as we have been going
on, we will be in the same relation to modern existence
as The Doomsday Book was to Queen Elizabeth.

They have quaint little ways these oddities who decide that
Russian films shall not under any circumstances be shown.
They could not for the life of them give you a good reason
or indeed any reason at all why they should not be seen.
But they are emphatic. And to be emphatic is a positive
condition, and a positive condition of mind, soul or spirit
must be a rare treat to them. So far as one can judge that
is the only cause for their behaviour. And they probably
feel that anything which throws them into any sort of posi-
tive condition must be a menace, and that the positive con-
dition itself is a sure sign of their so to speak papal infalli-
bility in selective misjudgment.

Again then, Russian films (to generalise) are the arrow-
point of cinema progress. How and why?

What is a Russian film, and to go even further, what is
Russia ?

The two questions can be answered in one. Russia is a
country inhabited by one hundred and forty-seven nationali-
ties, quite different from each other in tradition, in conven-
tion and speech (not unlike America this), and its films are
the product of these peoples banded together by the Soviet
Constitution into the Union of Socialist Soviet Republics.
The first main reason for the greatness of their films is that
they are designed to educate, to develop, and link up remote
villages with the progress of the big towns. They are de-

CLOSE UP

signed with a serious purpose, each has its constructive,
scientific and psychological foundation in some point of real
eugenic value. Unlike any other country, the cinema is not
an industry apart, confined to professional workers in
studios, but is taken right into the centre of civic life, and is
part of the national trend in ideas and cultural development.
That is to say, the Russian populace does not assume merely
the role of spectator, but is frequently active in participa-
tion, and always carries the right to vote its approval of a
film subject before the film is made. There are numerous
organizations devoted to collaboration between producing
units and the people, in order that the real tastes of the Re-
public may be ministered to. The direct and interesting
result of this is that the taste of the public reveals itself in
a choice of films that are on a level of intellect, spiritual
value and truth which has never been approached in any
medium.

Nowadays it is fairly generally known that Russia has
formed State schools to train workers in every branch of
cinema work, and that its greatest directors were students in
these schools.

I have given these reasons first in explanation, as it seems
to me that the first important thing, if you are to have a film
of real value, is an idea of value. Take any of the ideas
used by the Russians. They are burning and vibrant and
of the greatest importance, not abstractly, but in their direct
application to humanity. I say to humanity, because they
are far too great in conception and in execution to be con-

CLOSE UP

fined within national limits. Here are noble ideas applic-
able to every country equally, and to everybody.

Do not let me be accused of political bias. Politics are
not my world. I would like to state that it has always
seemed to me that the best party politics you could devise
would mean always that some people were on top and some
oppressed. Politics are hardly the solution to the world's
problems. Sociology, yes. And that is why the Russian
films touch me so deeply, and command my unquestioning
homage. They are not — as the International Press Con-
spiracy would have us believe — rabid incitement to rise up
and massacre, but on the other hand, the most eloquent
pleading for beauty and understanding that man has made.
It would not take an intellectual to see this. You would
see it. I see it. Any king would see it. What are people
then afraid of? It can only be that something would be
shown up. We would be made to see how little beauty and
understanding have been allowed in our lives. Too many
people still prefer blind bias. They have founded their
values upon it, and been forced to make their protection out
of it. Finally we trace back the prejudice and fear not to
any reason connected with social overthrow or revolution
but to the danger of losing those valuations which have
given spiritual nurture and protection.

To admit too much understanding, or too much compas-
sion might mean that somebody else would get ahead, some-
body else crush one out of existence. For one would not
then have the ruthlessness or justification of so-called virtue
by which one now^ must crush out others to survive. It is, in
short, a deeply-rooted instinctual process of self-preservation.

CLOSE UP

It is easy to say that the present period of social recon-
struction in the USSR affords unsurpassed film subjects.
That is quite evident. But the point is that these subjects
are not furbished up in the trimmings of conventional
drama, not romanticised, not used as the mise'enscene to
the trivial love affairs of trivial people, as they would be
anywhere else, and also they are not made with any conces-
sion to accepted dramatic tradition. They are made from
the heart and the brain and the spirit. They are swept by
greatness and tears. We are not asked to sympathise with
one woman and her vicissitudes, or with one hero, but with
mankind and with every hero in the world. The hearts that
have been given to these films have bled, and the souls been
lacerated. They have not had time to waste on idle themes,
and pretty ideas. Their themes and their ideas are burning
flames. They are teachers in the highest sense. Their
message repeated again and again is have done ivith useless
sufferings and they show how to have done with useless
suffering, and they show how useless suffering is. Such
films can and will end degradation, and wars and hate.

With this equipment the cinema is used more widely even
than radio, which plays so wide a part in cultural instruc-
tion throughout the USSR. Russia, it must be remem-
bered, has vast tracks of sparsely populated or unpopulated
land. Tiny villages lie dotted far from everywhere, where
formerly darkest ignorance reigned. These had to be
reached and brought into line. And for this purpose travel-
ling cinemas were instituted. In 1926 these numbered 976.
To-day they amount to nearly 2,000. Each travelling
cinema takes a monthly route visiting roughly 20 villages.

CLOSE UP

When it has completed its circuit it starts out again with a
new programme. The fixed price for peasants is the equi-
valent of from one penny to twopence admission. Special
low rental rates are given to these cinemas, determined by
the economic standard of the districts toured. If the film—
which is always of some sociological importance — is shown
to a semi-literate audience, an explanation and reason is
given by one of the educated peasants. In many cases a
precis of the film, together with an outline of its application
to daily life is given prior to its showing.

In addition to the travelling cinemas there are the perman-
ent cinemas in the larger villages, devoted to more highly
developed cultural work. The growth of these can be seen
from the following 'figures : —

1925 50

1926 114

1927 ... 232

1928 408

For workers and soldiers of the Red Army there exist in
the RSFSR altogether 2,562 cinemas. These are worked
on the same principles as those applied in the working of
the village cinemas. There is by this means a public of
35,000,000 film-goers, composed of town and country
workers. The cinema is the most popular of all arts.

M. Ozep, who made The Yellow Passport (Der Gelbe
Pass) informed me that no attention is paid ever to any prob-
lem in connection with a film until the makers are quite satis-
fied that it is right artistically. When they are perfectly
satisfied with it as a work of art, then and then only, they

CLOSE UP

being to discuss the other points in connection with its
exploitation.

• •••••

The Moscow High School of Cinematography was
founded in 1919, to prepare cinema directors, actors, camera-
men, electricians and assistants. There are about four
hundred pupils. The studies are based upon general tech-
nology and on the artistic value of right presentation. In
this connection, the principal object of attention and in-
struction is the cutting. The Russian director makes a
profound and exhaustive study of the new art of cutting which
has grown up in Russia alone, and which is unique in the
world of the cinema. The basic principle is never to repeat
the same shot twice, and never to prolong, any scene, whether
a street with people, or a close up, or swift action, one
moment longer than is necessary to convey the meaning to
the spectator. This means that instead of about four to
five hundred cuts in the film there may be anything from a
thousand to four thousand. The brisk, virile and stimulat-
ing effect thus achieved goes far in assisting the power of the
subjects chosen. As an example, I will cite a moment from
Eisenstein's Ten Days (October) of a soldier firing a machine
gun. The most astonishing effect was achieved by cutting
alternately from a close up of the soldier's head to the spit-
ting gun, with the rapidity of the actual familiar crackle of
the machine gun. The impression was so swift as to almost
baffle the eye, and lasted about one second, but the feeling
of deadliness and death, and the harsh splutter of the gun
were as vivid as if someone had actually turned a Maxim on
the auditorium.

CLOSE UP

It is, then, to the achievement of such effects as this, that
the intensive study of film cutting is devoted ; not to produce
something brilliant and impressionistic, rather to give
realism and the reaction of an actual participant. One often
reads of the camera being used as an eye. The Russian
method uses it not as an eye, but as a brain. It darts surely
and exactly from one vital thing to another vital thing. Its
penetration is acute and deep, and very rarely (in its best
films never) led astray by side-issues or sentimentality.

It is only right to say again that not all, indeed very many
of their films do not touch this level. I have, for instance,
never seen a more dreadful film that Tzar and Poet, dealing
with the life of Pouschkin. Their method, to begin with, is
for now and the future, and does not lend itself to bygone
periods. The cinema obviously belong to to-day. But, this
aside, Tsar and Poet remains in my mind as one of the really
boring hours I have spent in a projection room.

But when it comes to Ten Days (October), The End of St.
Petersburg, Two Days, The Peasant Women of Riazanj,
etc., there are no words to express their value not only as
films, but as contribution to the progressive thought of the
world. And to have made one such film would entitle them
to the respect of the world. As it is, there are many, and so
we are able to safely feel that the future of pure cinema is
safe in their hands, and that the excrescent and reactionary
strivings of talking films, and talking-colour films need not
unduly disturb us. KENNETH MACPHERSON.

CLOSE UP

By RICHARD WATTS, Jr.

The talking pictures have hit New York like an avalanche,
or a thunderbolt, or' a sledgehammer, or whatever your
favorite simile for an overwhelming fad happens to be. They
are the only topic of discussion among people who discuss
motion pictures; the critics can write of nothing else; actors
of stage and screen are, respectively, fascinated and terrified
by them, and the public rushes madly to see them. Every
film organisation is making wildeyed plans for synchronisa-
tion, and advocates of spoken and silent drama are a bit aghast
lest their favorite art forms be superseded by a shoddy
amalgamation.

Amid all this tumult of concern with the matter of a
proposed new medium, there is little consideration of two
rather obvious facts inherent in the problem. The first is that
the paying spectators are flocking to the audible films chiefly
because they are a novelty, and only to a far lesser degree
because they have any natural enthusiasm for them as a
medium. You need but to stop in the lobby of a theater
showing the talking films just as the performance is letting out
to see how unconvinced the general public is of the new
manner. The second thought is that the film producers are
only enthusiastic about the device because it is so much easier
to throw the audiences a sop for their appetites in the way of a

CLOSE UP

fad than it is to go to the task of developing the great, if
puzzling, silent medium that lies open to them.

About the only thing there has been time for, as a matter of
fact, is the denunciation of those who are skeptical of the
talking pictures as blind and ancient reactionaries. We who
feel that this supposed advance is really a serious and unfor-
tunate step in retrograde are regarded as foes of progress.
When we proclaim that the addition of dialogue to film means
casting aside all the pioneer progress toward creating a new
art form specialising in dynamic pantomime, we are reminded
of the sad and rather ridiculous fate of the unfortunate King
Canute. All the same, the matters we bring forward have not
yet been faced by the advocates of screen talk.

Almost hysterically we have recalled to the enemies of
silence that the cinema, handicapped by all the disadvantages
a youthful medium of expression could well face, was actually
on the verge of getting somewhere as a distinctive art medium.
Proclaiming that the combination of cinematic pantomime
with music was potentially the most tremendous assault on the
emotions yet devised, w^e have protested against this new and
slavish attempt to imitate stage technique just when this idea
was about to be developed.

A speaking film, our manifesto went, was, even if handled
with the highest skill, bound to remain little but a pale,
inadequate reflection of the stage, lacking the virtues of both
cinema and theater. The appeal of motion pictures, we
recalled, was essentially visual, and their outstanding virtues
the broad, sweeping canvas and the rapid shifting of position
they offer for dynamic dramatic narration. All the important
scenes in screen history, we added, from the stampede of

CLOSE UP

the elephants in Chang to the war scenes in The End of St.
Petersburg^ have been essentially visual rather than audible.

To quote from an article of mine in The New York Herald
Tribune : If the cinema is going in for talk, it must inevitably
take its accent from the use of stories with essentially visual
power, utterly fresh from the contamination of a completely
different medium and place it on the employment of scenes
that talk. Fewer and longer scenes and less freedom of
pictorial sweep are bound to result from this amalgamation,
with the result that the screen will use its potential identity as
a separate art, with its own code of esthetics, and become an
unattractive hybrid that compromises so completely between
the pictorial and the conversational that it merely results in a
lack of dramatic force.''

In addition to this, we reactionaries have loudly proclaimed
that the use of words in photoplays threatened the vaunted
power of American films in foreign lands ; that the pantomimic
merit of some of the greatest players, from Jannings and
Chaplin to Janet Gaynor, might be gravely threatened
through the stressing of vocal values, where these stars might
be less expert than, say, Milton Sills or Madge Bellamy ; that
the talking device, though suited to news reels and short
subjects, was only a handicap in full length photoplays. To
the end we have cried out that talking films were but a lazy
director's way of telling a story he was not shrewd enough to
present through dynamic pantomime.

It is only fair to add that so far all our claims have shown
themselves completely justified. True enough, the apologists
for the talking films have defended their medium by remind-
ing its foes that the efforts so far seen are but pioneer ones,

F. E. Samytschkowskij as the caretaker in Two Days ; a noble and
terrible part played perfectly. Reading his son's letter in the empty
house. The evening of the first day.

The caretaker conceals his young master, (returned after having lost
his fleeing family at the railway station) from the Bolshevists who
have taken possession of the house. His son is among them.

From The Peasant Women of Rianzanj {Das Dorf der Siinde) a
Sovkino film, (Derussa) made by a woman director, Olga Preobrashen-
skaja. It is her first film, and ranks among the very few real master-
pieces of the screen. The film has been sent to England, and if it
passes the censor . . . ! !

R. Pushnaja as Anna, the ill-fated and lovely young wife, victim of her
own ignorance and the malice of others. Politicallvnon-propagandistic,

The spring festival. Throwing blossom wreaths into the water. Just
before the tragedy. Apart from sociological importance, The Peasant
Women of Riaiizanj is replete with beauty, poetry and swift action.

Wassilissa (E. Zessarskaja) daughter of the corrupt Wassily, having
been refused her father's consent to marry, leaves his house and goes
to live with her lover. Here in his smith v, she is refusin.s: to be intimi-

Thejfather, Wassilv, (E. Fastrebitski) and his mistress (O. Xarbekowa)
whose interpretation of a bitter, rapacious and sheerly animal type,
yet respected because she conforms to village conventions, is quite

mao^nificent.

At the marriage of Ivan, Wassily's son, and Anna. The viUagers are
already whispering that Wassily has contrived it in order that he may
take Anna for himself.

CLOSE UP

to be compared with the first airplane or the earhest locomo-
tive. The chief answer to this is that the producers of audible
films have shown no skill for profiting bv the simplest lessons
of the silent films or, for that matter, of the spoken stage, and
that the examples so far offered have revealed every weakness
the esthetic theories of silence have suspected. In addition,
the actors for the talking pictures, recruited from the ranks
of screen players who tried to substitute voice for pantomime,
have, without exception, been terrible.

So far we have had Tenderloin, in which the dialogue was
so incredible that it was laughed off the screen; Glorious
Betsy, which had but a few talking sequences, all ineft'ective ;
The Lion and the Mouse, a futile photograph of a stage
antique; and Lights of Xeu' York, done entirely with spoken
dialogue, which was a fifth-rate melodrama, badly done. On
the other hand, the Movietone news-reel and such short sub-
jects as Bernard Shaw's talk have been highly interesting.

Altogether, the evidence so far presented is that the talking
film as applied to the full length photoplay or to any other
purpose, save that of record, is entirely ineft'ective, dramati-
cally and esthetically. But it must at least be said for it that
it can't possibly be as bad as has so far seemed. Certainly it
deserves a better test than Tenderloin or Lights of Xew York.

CLOSE UP

RUSSIAN FILMS

The Editor of Close Up has asked me to write about
Russian Films. I say, I want to write about Russian Films,
and then I say but why should I ? One does not sit down
and write about the Book of Job or about Ruth in the corn,
or about the harlot Rahab. The new great outstanding
Russian films are in spirit Biblical films, they do not need
to be written about. They are, and they stand, and will
stand as long as the sheer material medium on which they
are created will endure. No . . . they will endure longer than
that. The drive behind the Russian film at the moment is a
religious drive. The ideas that have already been hammered
in are as authentic and as great (if I may be forgiven an ap-
parent exaggeration) as those carved in lightning on the rock
of Sinai. For the Russian Film at the moment deals with
hunger, with starvation, with murder, with oppression, with
adultery, with incest, with infanticide, with childbirth, with
the very throes of childbirth itself. Many of these films will
be released in Germany. Certain others will be shown only
to select audiences, specialists in political economy, psych-
ology or psychiatry.

Well ... to be practical. Why should English people see
these films, why should Americans? Let us be practical by
all means. Why should the average every day hard work-

CLOSE UP

ingy straightforward Englishmen or the vibrant go and get
'em Americans," read the Bible. They shouldn't. If your life
is full, if your road is straight, if your destiny is straight-
forward and you see the end, the goal of your life right in
your own conscience, why you should be bothered with tales
of murder and rape ( for that is what the Old Testament con-
sists of mainly) or with idealistic theories of friendship and
brotherhood and poetic imaginative stories about sparrows
and farthings and candlesticks and lamps and lilies, as set
forth in the so-called gospels. Why should you disturb
yourself with the ancient internecine history of the Old Testa-
ment, why should you unbalance yourself with the mystical
doctrine of the New if your life is straight and your con-
science is straight and your business is flourishing and your
children are well and your cook is adequate. Why, why
should people be tortured, be devitalized, be discouraged, be
troubled? Why? I don't for one moment want to perturb
anybody or force anything down throats that are not starv-
ing. The New Testament and the Old Testament are for
people who are hungry, literally, spiritually hungry. So in
a sense these Russian films. Many people will not want to
see them, and why should they? To many people the Bible,
even though they may treat it reverently, is a boring old
volume and one utterly out of the general trend of living.
But on the other hand, to the specialist in warfare, in politics,
in political economy, in literature, in poetry, the Bible is a
never ending source of pure delight, of intellectual stimulus,
of poetic charm. Those who must have the best in literature,
in mystic doctrine must eventually turn to the teachings of
the minor prophets and the Prophet. So those who in no

CLOSE UP

way sever life from art and religion from bread and butter or,
if you prefer it, bread and red wine or white wine, these
Russian productions will offer a sustenance indeed like that
shadow of a great rock '\ in the very weary land " of inter-
national dissension and internal discord.

For the world of the him to-day (there is no getting awav
from it) is no longer the world of the him, it is the world.
It is only those who are indift'erent to the world itself and its
fate, who can afford to be indifferent to the fate of the film
industry and the fate of the film art. The industry and the
art are still divorced in most of the countries of Europe and
the States of America. But no, not entirelv divorced. There
has never been, perhaps «rince the days of the Italian Renais-
sance, so great a stirring in the mind and soul of the
world consciousness. The " stirring " shows itself in little
things, in the great-little people, in the very great and in the
people. I was told the other day by one of the most intelli-
gent of the English producers (in fact, by the most vibrantly
intelligent mind that I have encountered anywhere in the film
world) that the fate of the producers hangs for the large part
not on the West End London theatre-goers, but on the pro-
vinces, and that the small town provincial box offices are
demanding more and more and MORE " thick-ear stuff'."
Well, where is this leading us? Concessions have been
made to the public and (I heard the same complaint from one
of the great German directors') the film art, the film industry
is now in a state of psychic fixation. For the " thick-ear
has set the standard, the slight concession has become a great
concession, and the demand of the box office is fast becoming
a command.

CLOSE UP

Give me what I can sell. Right. You are right. Say to
the box office you are right. They are right. Goods is
goods, and if the people demand laudanum in bottles and
raw spirits instead of the red wine and white wine of intel-
lectual sustenance, by all means give them laudanum in
bottles and raw, raw spirits. But do the people demand this.
This is what I say, do they, do they ? How do we know what
the people want, have the people really a voice in all this
matter? The people, I mean not just people. How do we
know what the people want until the people have seen what
they may or might want. The people do not know what film
art is, so how can the people demand film art ? The people
sickened by the scent of laudanum, feeling numbness threaten
stability and integrity say in many cases, no films. To the
people, films stand in many, many instances for poison, for
dope in its most pernicious essence, for aphrodisiacs that
stupify and drain the senses and cripple the desires. Be-
cause certain inferior bottles have held aphrodisiacs and raw
spirits, and even more pernicious dopes, are all the flasks,
and jars and bottles in the world to be damned and smashed
equally ? Is Egyptian porcelain that has held the heart of a
Pharoah and the wine goblets of Felenia and the crystals of
Venice and the gold chalices of the Grail and the flask of
Chianti, straw-bound flasks of the Tuscan foot-hills to
be damned and smashed before the contents are even so much
as sampled ? The pity is that it is only the connoisseur and
the specialists that have, at the moment, access to the thing
we must now unreserverdly term film ART. It is as much
a duty of the educated classes and the connoisseur, the
privileged classes in all countries, to see that the great art

CLOSE UP

productions of each country are made generally accessible,
as it was at one time the fiery mission of certain in office to
translate the Bible. There is a great work, a great mission
entrusted to the enlightened and privileged. And we dare
not shirk responsibility.

The art is there. The achievement is assured. The great
problem, in fact the only problem is the problem of present-
ing this art. I have had the privilege of talking with Rus-
sians and Germans during the last month, with great minds
of both these nations. The Germans (those, needless to say,
of the great generous-beyond-pettiness variety) said we as
a defeated nation feel more and more the power and greatness
of England. England before the war was first in Europe.
To-day England is first.'' We spoke, possibly not as the
average Englishman, not as the average American when we
sought to meet that humility-in-greatness half way. Our
answer was final, prophetic and unassailable. Jt was : you
are not sl defeated nation." Germany with its future before
it grubs down, down to the root of things, says we failed
hiere, we failed there.'' England says we have never failed,
'ook at Trafalgar, we will never fail." It is the worm in the
wood that eats away the mast head, not the mighty tempest.
England in its greatness preparing for the tempest, is in
danger of neglecting (we must say it) the very root and fibre
of its greatness.

For England whose great pride is rightly its sense of fair
play in sport and politics and war is apt sometimes to play
unfair to itself. Is not this fear of Russian films really a
fear of itself? Why should the Labour parties rise and
threaten the dignity and modesty of Buckingham Palace be-

CLOSE UP

cause they see the down-trodden and age-long degraded
iUiterate peasants of the great Russian steppes and sordid
St. Petersburg slums rising and storming the over-ornate
Byaantine porches of the ex-Czar's cruelly remote and indif-
ferent Winter Palace? There is no reason for the English
working classes to rise and break and tear and rend. Would
it not be a stimulus to the very pride of these salt-of-the-
earth English working classes to see that these Russians were
a different stock and root and yet behaved heroically?
Heroism is without nationality and should be without pre-
judice. We should not think David was a Jew, Leonidas a
Greek. These are epic characters, and as long as we are
citizens or subjects of the world, the vibration set up by the
heroism of a David or the beauty and restraint of a Leonidas
belongs to us, to each one of us individually. We grow in
pride, and self-respect and divinity when we see acts of
heroism, of beauty, of unqualified valour. David's courage
is my courage and Leonidas' death, my death. So in facing

mother " with her red flag, I am mother a mother to
these peoule whose martyrdom is our martydom and whose
crown is our crown.

We are no longer nations. We are or should be a nation.
We all know everything about the so-called Great War, that
A was base, that B was good, that C was heroic, that D lost
some diplomatic papers, that E was really to blame, that it
was all caused really by F shooting G. We know that. We
have witnessed it, died for it. Well, then let us shuffle the
cards, get down and back to values. Say I am my brother's
keeper, and if A suffers, B suffers. If C has smallpox, no
doubt D will catch it and hand it on to E, and maybe F even.

CLOSE UP

In succouring C I am not being charitable (that is the joke
of it), I am really being selfish. For if one suffers, eventually
the other must, and if one nation to-day befouls its own inte-
grity and strikes blindly at a lesser nation, the whole world,
willy (as they say) nilly must be sooner or later dragged into
the fray. Men must fight, it is true just as women must have
children. But don't let's fight if we must fight, blindly, let
us know what it is all about, nations must understand each
other, then if C is fighting D, there is much more fun to be
got out of it altogether. We must know, know, KNOW.
One of the most distinguished women of the political non-
militant suffragette period said to me (in 1914) I have
studied the problem from every angle, but I can dare not
question our cause for going to war. If I questioned it for
one moment, I should go mad.'' I did not say to her then,
" well, go mad." I would now. I would say, If you
haven't the courage and decency to face the thing straight
now and for all time you don't deserve your sanity, and I
hope you lose it." None of us in the light of later events
dare slurr over our mentality for the sake of any personal fear
of intellectual or physical consequences. I do not for one
moment doubt the justice of England's heroic move in '14.
But I will say then as now there was even among the most
enlightened a tendency to scrap blindly brain for sentiment.

Well . . . what is this anti-Russian feeling but a senti-
ment? What do you know of the revolution? What do
you know of the Russians ? Have you studied the Problem ?
Do you know how the workers " suffered? I do not mean
that I in any way question the political justice, the rigid
watchfulness of certain of the authorities here in England.

CLOSE UP

The Great Strike and its dramatic denouement is still a matter
of wonder and admiration among all political thinkers on the
Continent. But the greatness of the Moscow art productions
that it was my unique privilege to see last month in Berlin,
puts the question of the Russian film (I speak naturally only
of these real art productions) on a plane transcending politics.
These films do not say to the British or the American work-
man, go and do likewise. They say look, we are your
brothers, and this is how we suffered. The whole authorita-
tive teaching of Potemkin, of Mother, of The End of Saint
Petersburg, or Ten Days That Shook the World, are histori-
cal and almost religiously autochthonous character. There is
no outward influence ... no passing to and fro of foreign
soldiers, in Russia for and about and through and with the
Russians. It is putting Russia (real Russia) on the map,
not handing out the saccharine opera bouffe stuff that Holly-
wood offers us, for instance, in Greta Garbo's Karenina, or
in the yet unreleased Feodora of Pola Negri.

I do not say that Karenina and Feodora have no place in
the scheme of things. They are both barley water, pink
lemonade through a straw to quench naif palates on a hot
day at the fair. They are not wine red or white, they are
not even poison or raw spirits, and that perhaps is one of
their great dangers. They are pleasant, skilfully photo-
graphed, both of the actresses in these two cases are women
of talent and undoubted personality. But Madame Baranow-
skaja standing before the onrushing feet of the great stallions
of the Czarist*s imperial bodyguard is in another category
altogether. She is a figure of tradition, historical, mythical.
Biblical.

CLOSE LP

The great horses rush forward. The crowds break before
them. Mother " who has innocently given information
concerning her own son (in this the unsuccessful pre-war
abortive revolution) is left standing alone, clasping the dis-
carded banner of her people . . . well that is all. The horses
rush on across the iron bridge, and mother is left lying in the
mud, clasping her riddled banner. Is this a red flag in
the sense of murder and outrage and insane threats of an
illiterate gutter mob? That is W'hat red " stands for to so
many, many intelligent and educated people. The red flag
of mother " as she lies, a peasant woman, trampled to un-
sightly death at the frigid command of an aristocratic cavalry
officer, is as red as any Flander's poppy. It is only one of
the most crass illiteracy who could face the beauty of

mother " and remain untouched and unredeemed.

So with Ten Days, so again with The End of Saint Peters-
burg, The teaching is a teaching of brotherhood, of
equality in its most sane and stable form. We are hungry.
You are not hungry. We are starving, and the baby in my
arms is not yet quite dead. Well . . . w^e know all that. But
do we know all that ? Do w^e really know until we have seen
the Russian film as presented by the great Moscow art people,
not the insane outpourings of an insane group-mind, nor the
saccherine washed-out and sugared over productions of a
commercially proficient colony, I do not mean, by that last
diatribe, altogether against Hollyw^ood. I mean yes and
yes and yes, and no and no and no. Hollywood with re-
servations is all right (up to a point) for America, for up to a
point it is America, slick, quick, superficial and stylish, and
oh, so, so amusing. Yes, I love Laura la Plante with her

CLOSE UP

slick little mannerisms, and no one could be a more enthus-
iastic fan " of little Patsy Ruth Miller than I am. Patsy
Ruth Miller is an exquisitely finished artist. As is Rod la
Rocque (to name one among many), Rod la Rocque with his
charm and Buddy this and Buddy that who all have a place
in my affections. Certain of the productions of the foreign
directions in Hollywood leave nothing to be desired but that
is American, is Hollywood and England has other problems.
The problem of England and the beauty of England
(psychically) is never that of the Scandinavians, and tech-
nically at least it should learn and study not from America,
but in and through the Germanic and Russian mediums.
Hollywood has put America on the film map, certainly Ger-
many has its representatives of giant realism in the film world,
and Russia has surpassed everybody. Now where is Eng-
land?

Well, here is another problem, and to state my ideas and
ideals for England is hardly writing about Russia. But then
it is really writing about Russia, for your technical problems
are much the same. The Russian has taught us, for instance,
the fallacy of the star " as stars and the idiocy of
the painted drop curtain, the elaborate and false studio inte-
rior, the beauty of shadow and rain and general natural effect
that achieves depth and reality and the heights of impression-
istic artistry through naturalness. I heard an English
producer say the other day but what we need is stars, our
people get stiff before a camera." Russia has taught us that
every man, every women and every child is a star We
are all stars '\ There is not one of us who, under skilful
directorship cannot create a character, provided it is a real

CLOSE UP

character and an English character, and not a diluted and
febrile imitation of Hollywood being English, or Russian or
Fiji Island-ish. Hollywood is Hollywood, and it is slick and
it is straight, and it is American. Give me your English
people and I will give you an English film tradition that will
make the Germans and the Russians and the Americans
green with envy. Well . . . perhaps not a little hyperbole,
I grant you. But give us a chance anyhow. Let the people
and the directors get together. The camera men and the
stars. The camera man is the star and the star is the director.
Or should be.

But give us the English people and we will give you the
English film. We want films of the people for the people,
and this . . . and this . . . and this . . . BY the people. The

great new Russian idea is not to make star personalities, but
to let personalities make stars. God has made us, and we
have made ourselves and each one of us is a " star " in
embryo. Life and the film must not be separated, people and
things must pass across the screen naturallv like shadows of
trees on grass or passing reflections in a crowded city window.
The Russian has taught us that life and art are in no way to
be severed and that people to be actors must first and last be
people. The great German who I quote constantly said to
me " the screen cannot lie.'' But the screen in England has
lied constantly and consistently about the English people,
and in time foreign nations will cease to judge England by a
past and vanished Trafalgar, and will expect nothing of a
people who with such great wealth and with such rare and
unique possibilities present so comparatively little on the
screen that is really of political, sociological or artistic value.

CLOSE UP

I do not mean (how could I) that all British films are rotten.
One speaks naturally in extremes . . . there is no time to dis-
cuss and too subtly differentiate. But I will say for the Eng-
lish films and against myself that one of the heads of the
Moscow Art Film School said to me recently in Berlin, I
want to tell you one thing, and I want you to realize how
sincerely I am speaking. I was impressed greatly with your
Dawn, Your actress is magnificent, and your film alto-
gether to be compared with the best of our Russian produc-
tions/' It will show you how weak I am in many matters,
and how sometimes unreliable when I confess to you that I
had to sav to him, I have not seen it." H. D.

PROGRESS

By Oswell Blakeston

Certain technical manuals hope to astound their readers
with the statement that pioneers of the motion picture
industry " (Heaven help us all !) experimented with paper
film. It appears to the compilers of these w^orks to be a
ludicrous fact, almost alarming. Just imagine it — PAPER
FILM ! Ha ! ha ! how far we have travelled, eh?"

Progress. Celluloid with stress marks, static, and grain !
Would paper be subject to all these electrical disfigurements ?

Take the extreme cases, the severe but revealing tests. A
film in the tropics ; celluloid under the ordeal of intense heat.
Ask now^ if we have found the perfect base for silver emulsion,
for what happens ? The cameraman may go through the day
without mishap, unless he leaves the camera in the sun for too

CLOSE UP

long and burns his fingers. The day's take may be tinned in
the usual manner, dispatched for the laboratories in parcels
covered with blue crosses and seals, but the developer finds
that all the film has stuck together 1 Tropical heat makes the
celluloid " sweat The negative should be left for a day
exposed to the air in a sealed dark-room, with the additional
safeguard of a large inverted tin, then it may arrive in good
condition ; perhaps with more certainty than if the film had
been exposed in the Arctic regions. An explorer setting up
his camera amidst ice, polar bears and stray topical boys "
would be rewarded with a negative interlaced with wavering
lines and decorated with representations of forked lightning,
if no experienced friend had warned him to put an electric bulb
in the camera. An electric bulb, lit by portable batteries,
keeps the inside of the camera at an even temperature. A
light inside the camera ! What about fogging all the film?
Not if the bulb is covered with black paper and painted black.

Heat and cold therefore disqualify celluloid. The nervous
might like to add their wail about the safety of the general
public, the deadlv combustibility of celluloid; the reverent
would be sure to talk about the debilitating atmosphere of the
film safe. Film when it is kept for any length of time becomes
brittle and unfit for the projector ; so that the artistic repertoire
cinema has more difficulties to contend with than the mere
securing of suitable pictures. Every promising film that is
made to-day is doomed from the hour that it is released, and
the classics of the past will soon be lost to us for ever. Paper
would hardly keep any better, it would not be as pliant as new
celluloid and it would tear, but is there any need for our
scientists to brag about progress ?

CLOSE UP

The enthusiasts are, I think, conscious of these defects ;
there are other faults not so widely known. For example, it is
unsatisfactory to dye celluloid. Tinting has been abandoned
by most studios for coloured base, which is more even. In the
old days the film was run through the dye after it had been
washed (the water was sucked off by a vacuum in order that
the die should not be diluted). Far more important are the
processes of matting and " duping ", resorted to because
of flaws in the silver emulsion and celluloid system.

The failure of modern emulsion is really a full-time
independent question, but when it is remarked that the
number of copies taken from a negative are strictly limited
much has been said. With careful handling about one
hundred and eighty copies can be taken from a negative ;
while theoretically the number should be without limit. Had
we progressed we should be considerably nearer the ideal than
we are to-day. After a certain number of copies have been
taken from a negative the base becomes scratched, and

matting " has been introduced for a remedy. The base is
rubbed matt so that any further printing is done, as it were,
through ground glass. Matting " is a widely practised
abuse, but how many cinema goers have ever heard about it,
or dreamt that the copy projected in their local cinema has
suffered in this respect?

The ideal condition of affairs necessitates that not only shall
a negative yield as many copies as are desired, but that other
negatives can be made from it without loss of photographic
quality. Positive celluloid film is often duped " to make a
negative. Duping the making of a negative from a
positive, implies the loss of half tones, yet films are regularly

CLOSE UP

" duped " for the foreign market. Again is the public told?
The answer is, I suppose, would tlie public care?

To save " duping important productions are taken with
two cameras ; one negative for home consumption, the other
for abroad. Even here there is a hidden evil. In nearly every
case one cameraman is greatly superior to the other, one being
engaged specifically as first cameraman. Studio authorities,
thinking to economise, often engage incompetents for the
second camera, which has but to set up beside the first ;
however, simple as are the duties of second cameraman,
frequently they are badly bungled. Needless to say, the
indifferent negative is sent abroad, the producer being jealous
of his reputation in his own country. Beware of the alien
producer !

Further complications become tangled in technicalities.
One parting word about emulsions. The two chief obstacles
to perfect photographic reproduction offered by modern
emulsions are speed and time. The life of the emulsion once
developed wanes as well as the deterioration of the celluloid
base ; undeveloped emulsion also loses its speed more or less
rapidly. Supposing you want to shoot a group of gypsies
sitting round a bonfire (no effect arc lights) out in the open air.
To make the bonfire sufficiently strong for the speed of the
film combustible pow^ders must be mingled with the flame.
Essential for stock which has some durability but little speed.
Powders can be dispensed with if the modern super pan is
loaded in the camera, but stock which has speed keeps only
a few days after it has been hypersensitized. For such is
progress.

CLOSE UP

WRITERS AND PICTURES

How does one go about writing for the Hollywood movies?
The prudent person — particularly the professional literary
person — refrains from going about it at all. However, if he
feels he must contribute to the screen, his first step is to write
a book or a play, or at least a colorful magazine story. If it
contains picture possibilities, or better still, if it becomes
popular, some producer may buy the film rights to it, at any-
where from five hundred dollars to a hundred thousand
dollars, and may possibly go so far as to invite the author to
come to Hollywood and try his hand at writing directly for
the screen, under a three months' probational contract at five
hundred a week.

Aside from this exceptional situation, one does not write
for the movies. Hollywood is not in the market for scen-
arios. Many of the studios will not even consider unsolicited
scripts, but promptly return them unread to their deluded
authors.

And yet there was a time when scenario writing was a wide-
spread and promising avocation, with profit in it for many
an ingenious plot builder. Indeed, it looked for a while as
though it were destined to become an established profession,

CLOSE UP

open to anyone with imagination and picture sense
coupled with a bit of Hterary talent. Schools for the teaching
of it sprang up throughout the country, and two or three of
the leading Universities included scenario writing in their
curricula. The studios welcomed contributions and en-
couraged the efforts of promising writers.

But these conditions have come definitely to an end.
Scenario writing as such is now confined to a few recognized
specialists, men and women living in Hollywood and directly
in touch with the studios. The majority of them are on
salary, while the few free lances enjoy an entree to the studios
and are kept informed of the current production needs. The
outlander is virtually taboo. His chance of selling an original
cinema story is on a par with his chance of becoming Presi-
dent of the United States.

The present situation is a natural development. It is not
the result of a sudden or arbitrary dictum on the part of the
movie overlords. As photogramas developed in character, as
well as in technic and cost of production, the ordinary outside
writer lost step and fell by the wayside. In Hollywood par-
lance, he could no longer deliver the goods. The more
highly developed demands of the screen w^ere beyond his
resources.

As for the capable wTiter, he too lost out in time, unless
in the meanwhile he took up his abode in Hollywood and be-
came associated with the studios. Otherwise, it was impos-
sible for him to keep in touch with the developing technicali-
ties and intricacies of picture making and its constantly
fluctuating conditions and requirements.

In short, long-distance writing for the movies became vir-

CLOSE UP

tually impossible. And tliis, by way of illustration, is but
one of the several causes that have led to the present situation.

Another determining circumstance was the numerous and
increasing cases of plagiarism on the part of unknown
authors. This troublesome mischief alone did much to hasten
the end of the volunteer cinema writer. Pictures cost too
much money to risk the buying of a story, however excellent,
from an unestablished or unrecognized author. In fact, an
exceptionally good story from such a source to-day arouses
suspicion rather than interest or welcome.

It is, therefore, no more than reasonable that producers
should depend upon accredited writers for their picture mater-
ial. Nor are they to be criticized for their reluctance to accept
such material from the outside until it has passed through the
larval form of novel or stage play. It is merely a further safe-
guarding of their interests. A published book or a produced
drama carries with it prima facie evidence of merit, as well
as assurance of genuineness and legal proprietorship.

There is also, of course, an incidental commercial value at-
taching to a popular work of fiction. Many a film rides to
financial success on the popularity of its literary parent.
Ben Hut, Peter Pan, Little Lord Fontleroy, Uncle Tom's
Cabin are but a few random titles out of a score that might
be cited in proof of this — titles which have drawn the crowds
and the shekels, irrespective of the merits of their cinema
translations.

But at the same time it is a mistake to agree with the cap-
tious critics of Hollywood, that the producers in picturizing
a successful present-day novel or play are prompted solely bv
the advertising value of its success. Whatever their indivi-

CLOSE UP

dual shortcomings, Hollywood producers are not the dull-
heads their detractors would have us believe. A colossal in-
stitution such as the cinema does not rest on all-round
stupidity.

When paying thousands of dollars for a " best seller " and
preparing to spend a fortune in putting it on the screen, no
producer is so stupid as to believe that everybody is familiar
with the book. He is quite well aware that there are millions
of picture fans who have not read it and have not even heard
of it. Compared with the horde of cinema attendants, the
number of readers of a popular novel is a mere decimal. And
no one better kno\vs this than the business-wise producer.

A best seller is of significance to him simply because it is a
best seller — a proof that it contains something of special popu-
lar appeal, and accordingly holds the promise of a successful
picture. That more than the usual percentage of the read-
ing public is acquainted with the book is merely an added
factor in the picture's favor; and it serves also as a selling
point with the exhibitor. But it is certainly not the prime
consideration. If it were, even a child would know better
than to change the original title or treatment of the story, as
Hollywood has a habit of doing.

Give the devil his due. If the maligned producer labels his
film with a different title from that of the novel or play which
he has translated into celluloid, it is not necessarily because
he lacks good sense. On the contrary, it may well be that he
thereby proves himself a canny genius within his own
domain. He may hurt our literary and esthetic sensibilities
by so doing, but w^hat are our sensibilities on this score com-
pared with the response of the multitude to whom he is cater-

CLOSE UP

ing. The Admirable Crichton may be sacred to you and me,
but its screen alias of Male and Female has a far bigger pull
with John Smith and his uncles and his aunts and his cousins
the world over.

The producer is not interested in literature as literature.
His milieu is pictures, not words. Literary art is of value to
him only in so far as it has something to offer that is adapt-
able to his specialized medium. If he is ready to pay ten
thousand dollars for a piece of literary work for the sake of a
mere idea contained in it, and, based on that idea, turns out a
film that bears little or no resemblance to the original, that is
his privilege. We may gnash our teeth over it, but at the
same time we must be careful not to misinterpret this re-
action of ours as evidence that the producer is an ignoramus.

The failure of the great majority of novelists and play-
rights who have gone to Hollywood, to write directly for the
screen, has proven a mutual disappointment. And author
and producer are equally to blame — the author for failing to
perceive the distinctive difference between literary and pictor-
ial expression, and the producer for assuming that ability to
produce an excellent novel or drama implies the ability also to
write an ordinary scenario.

And so it is that many of our contemporary literary lights,
numbering among them Michael Arlen, Gilbert Parker, Basil
King, Joseph Hergersheimer, Mary Rinehart, Gertrude
Atherton, Fanny Hurst, Irving Cobb, Booth Tarkington,
Rupert Hughes, have twinkled brilliantly for a time on the
Hollywood studio lots, only to disappear more or less quickly
and return gratefully to their native firmament.

Each to his own trade. The cobbler to his last. Novels

CLOSE UP

are written ; pictures are fabricated. Literary creation is solo
work ; cinema producing is collaborative, composite, multi-
farious, and vastly intricate. Many writers are called to
Hollywood, but few are chosen. And the elect are content to
become and remain, but individual cogs in the giant mach-
inery of picture making. CLIFFORD HOWARD.

SIX RUSSIAN FILMS

Two Days {Zwei Tage),
The Peasant Women of Riazanj {Das Dorf der Siinde),

FIRST TWO OF A SERIES.

Two Days,

WuFKU film, directed by Stabavoj. Leading role, F. E.
Samytschkowski as the caretaker. S. A. Minin as his
son.

Glimpses of large, imposing interiors of a country resi-
dence. People hurry down from upstairs, with bags and all
the paraphernalia of travel. They make precipitate last
minute arrangements, and hasten out to the waiting car. Lug-
gage is being strapped into the car. The master is giving
instructions to the old caretaker. A dog and its pup stand
bv, w^aiting and wondering. There is much agitation and

CLOSE UP

anxiety. A heavy suitcase falls. The pup has been killed.
But there is no time to waste. The old caretaker watches the
car vanish, then picks up the dead animal, and takes it to a
coppice in the grounds and buries it. He returns to the
house. The departure has been abrupt and many personal
effects remain about the rooms. He goes from room to room
closing and putting away cigar boxes, trinkets, locking doors
and windows, pulling blinds. The family plate he has also
carried to the coppice and buried it too. The house assumes
more and more an air of desertion and gloom.

Night falls early, and the old caretaker is in his room. His
own effects too must be safeguarded. Letters. Gay letters
from his son. He looks at the small photograph in gaudy
frame of a young man, smiling and handsome. His manner
is sad and bewildered. He seems very alone in an atmo-
sphere of heavy quiet and darkness and foreboding.

A figure rushes in the road, and stops, beating and shaking
the great iron gates of the garden. The caretaker goes to the
window. He sees a youth frantic and desperate, apparently
pursued, and in imminent danger. He goes down through
the dark house with his candle. The youth beats wildly and
frenziedly. Presently he is admitted. It is the son of the
house, one of the fleeing family of that same morning. He is
distraught and half dead with terror. The Reds are at his
heels. The old man locks the gates again, and hurries him
into the house, and upstairs to his room. The boy is in a
terrible state and almost unconscious. In the coppice outside
the mother dog is howling without ceasing. Her mournful
howls fill the night.

Almost immediately the Bolsheviks are at the gates, knock-

CLOSE UP

ing for admission. The boy's fear continues with the same
insane energy — a wonderful piece of acting. Again the old
man descends. The boy is hidden up in his room. The
Bolsheviks are impatient, but the old man goes toward them
with his lantern outwardly composed. Go on, he says to
them, what's the meaning of this. Get along with you. He
is ordered to open, and stands face to face with his son. He
angrily rebukes the good-natured greeting. His son listens
smalingly to his angry words. Indoors, the tired and hungry
men are making themselves comfortable. The old man goes
up to his room, outraged and powerless ; his life foundations
dashed from under him in a moment. The men downstairs
seem quiet enough, tired out and sleeping. The boy, ex-
hausted now after his frenzied energy, is put to bed in the old
man's bed, and the old man takes pillow and rug and settles
himself on the floor.

The howling dog has burrowed in the newly dug soil and
exhumed the corpse of the pup. It now how^ls, crouched over
the dead body. The gate sentry, nerves exhausted by the
monotonous cries stamps to the coppice to destroy the dog. He
finds the plate there, half uncovered in the burrowing ; brings
companions, and it is borne away to the house.

At dawn the old man descends softly among the sleeping
men, and sees his son asleep on a table. He takes food for
the boy upstairs, and is detected. Suspicions are roused, and
his son and two men mount. They are heard. The boy, his
former wild energy returning, is thrust into a long sloping
loft. His figure vanishes, falling behind heavy beams and
heavy shadow like a startled lizard. The old man is found
calmlv eating at his table. The search reveals nothing, and

CLOSE UP

again the son tries to establish a friendly relationship which
again his father rejects. There is something fine in the old
man's adherence to his beliefs, in his loyalty to his departed
masters. He loves his son, and both know it, and the son
respects his father, even though he is opposing him in beliefs
that are dear to him.

At morning the Bolsheviks depart, and their place is taken
by pursuing military. For these people the old man brings
out linen and table ware. The son of his masters emerges.
Fear having left him he re-establishes himself with cocksure,
precocious manner. The old man's son has been followed by
him to the cottage where he lives with his wife. It is now
easy for him to appear a hero. He has already torn up the
son's letters, and the pitiful fragments have been spread by
the old man on the bed, assembled but unjoined. Now the
security of equals induces him to go further. He calls up the
old man. This is his triumph, his statement of being. He
strikes him forcefully on the head, calling him traitor. The
dazed and astounded old man hears him calling for men to go
with him and rout out the Bolshevik son. In course of time
he appears bound, and hustled. Again father and son stand
face to face. The old man blindly implores mercy from the
boy whose triumph makes mercy an impossibility. At night-
fall on the second day, the broken figure of the old man is
grovelling in the coppice. He has taken the place of the dog,
which has vanished. Two naked feet swing above his head.
Beside him is the body of the pup.

Presently intolerable grief is replaced by a sudden wild
triumph. Again men are asleep indoors, and with them the
boy smiling in sleep as he had smiled gratitude the night

CLOSE UP

before. Content in his belief in right. The old man
watches him.

Soon small flames lick the backs of old dry books, of cur-
tains. Smoke wakes the men. Doors and windows are
barred. The second day and the second night pass in the
blazing of a vast funeral pyre. The old man hurrying away
has the majestic pride and gorgeousness of an avenging angel.
Dawn of the third day is wet and grey over a winding road,
and over flat, wet fields. Face downward in the road is the
solitary dead figure of the old man.

This is the story of Two Days, tragic beyond endurance,
yet by pity and truth not destructive, but rather an inspiration.
Its intolerable strength is in its consistency, and the cumula-
tive building of inevitable incident, leading through tragedy
to super tragedy. The dawn, and day and night of each day,
cheerless, threatening, irrevocable is made to be felt as actual
weight of reality. The small personal conflicts, understand-
ings, motives emerge starkly against the dark background.
Everything goes to its limit. With a fractionary difference
the suitcase falling on the pup might have been almost slap-
stick. Here it was so inevitable that actual shock of horror
came with it. The situation of Revolution and its devastation,
of the needs and justification of both sides and the influence
of Revolution falling suddenly upon a large country mansion
gave an absorbing situation. For the situation was built on
reality, and not in any dramatic convention, where revolu-
tionaries, whether Russian, French or Balkan, are shown as
sweeping down on everything and leaving only fire and havoc
in their wake. How the personal element functioned through
the working out of impersonal aims was marvellously shown,

CLOSE UP

how human met human, not how man met fiend. The parts
were flawlessly played. F. E. Samytschkowski as the old
man is beyond praise. The son of the house, and his own son
were equally, in their places, magnificent. The casting could
not, in fact, have been better. It was hard to realise how it
can have been so good. Technique was stimulating, simple
and experienced. Two Days once seen can never be forgotten.

The Peasant Women of Riasanj (Das Dorf der Sunder).

SovKiNO film. Directed by Olga Preobrashenskaja.
Wassily, the father, E. Fastrebitzki ; Ivan, his son, C.
Babynin; Wassilissa, his daughter, E. Zessarskaja;
Anna, Ivan's wife, R. Pushnaja; Wassily's mistress, O.
Narbekowa.

The tremendous sociological importance of this film is in its
insistence on the need to recognise the problems arising out
of primitive conditions in the villages. Towns carry their
own special problems, and the problems of towns are far more
well known and recognised, and to a certain extent dealt with.
But progress, this film insists, cannot be confined to towns
to the exclusion of village life.

It is Spring in Riazanj. Women are washing in the lake,
and great stretches of bleaching cloth lie on the grassy
slopes. It is a gay and animated scene, and the picturesque
peasant costumes, heavy and massive and embroidered,
women with skirts fastened back and large bandaged feet,
add brightness to a scene already bright. Over the river a
cart drives, laden with grain in sacks. The ford is tricky
and the cart goes in deep, to the mirth of the women and a

CLOSE UP

volley of advice. Wassily and his son wade ashore, the
cart unharmed. Anna, a young girl, light-hearted with
Spring, comes from her cottage. She meets Ivan and the
father, both of w^hom drive on their w^ay, their thoughts oc-
cupied w^ith Anna's young beauty.

In an orchard Wassilissa, Wassily's daughter meets her
lover, the young smith. They are hidden in dense blossom,
but not so hidden that Wassily driving past does not per-
ceive them. Thus, over the morose meal, the family, father,
mother, mistress, child, and son await Wassilissa. Ivan's
thoughts are dreamily with Anna, his soup spoon dipping in
the community dish rests there, and a happy smile reveals
his dreamy abstraction. Wassily, profoundly irritated, hits
him sharply on the head with the back of his own spoon, and
the surprised youth is even more surprised by a spoonful of
hot soup dashed in his face. Wake up, blockhead, it's
time you were getting married."

Wassilissa hurries in full of high spirits. The stony
silence of her family show^s her that they know. Her father's
insults and threats fall upon her and she leaves the table.

Anna and Ivan marry. The villagers are already whisper-
ing that the old man has manoeuvred this in order that he can
have Anna for himself. The wedding feast is full of gaiety
and dancing, and the room grow hotter and hotter. The
young bride and groom sits mopping exhausted faces.
Wassilv goes and seats himself beside them, his light caress
of the bride's hand has a triumph that does not escape the
swift eye of his mistress.

Wassilissa and the smith go out to the quiet shelter of the
barn. Wassilv finds them there and bursts into fury. You

CLOSE UP

shall never have my consent to your marriage, he savs. His
daughter returns his fierce stare. She and the smith go out.
Wassily, unsure of himself before her sudden strength,
watches them. At the door she says to her lover, If I come
and live with you without marriage will you promise to
honour me?" They go off together, leaving Wassily rag-
ing, but defeated.

Their life is not so simple, however. Their door is con-
stantly smeared with pitch by angry villagers. The young
smith grows despondent, but Wassilissa, helping him at his
work, laughs her defiance. Seeing the smeared door, she
spits with angry contempt.

At home Wassily has made many advances to the reluct-
ant Anna, who succeeds in evading him. His wife and
mistress watch with scandalised eyes, in a conspiracy of rage
and avidity, and the atmosphere grows tense, and hostile.
Their attitude is one almost of eagerness that the thing they
have made up their minds is going to happen should do so,
thus flooding them with triumph and a virtuous reason for
venom. Madame Preobrashenskaja has certainly succeeded
in this film in presenting unquestionably the finest studies in
feminine psychology that have ever been made, from the
sweet, simple Anna, and the strong, loyal Wassilissa to the
carniverous, yet inevitable mistress who left to herself is a
harmless great animal, yet whose tenacious brutality and
cowardice are the great weapons of her virtue. Indeed, no
more scathing, though quite impartial, indictment of so-
called virtue has yet been made. Madame Preobrashenskaja's
genius is in that her types are never exaggerated, and each
has its inevitable raison d'etre. She does not hate people for

CLOSE UP

being what they are, but the system which makes them so.
The mistress, for instance, though shown up in her true
baseness, is no more base and no more shown up than thou-
sands of her type are every day to the observant eye. Not
one of her actions, expressions or gestures is strained or over
coloMred. She has even pathos and a likeability. Chanc-
ing to meet her you would find her a cheery, droll and com-
fortable soul. It is Preobrashenskaja's devilish cunning
that has lifted the edge and allowed us to peep beneath at
the cauldron-like raging of jealousy and fear.

The War sweeps away the young men. Wassilissa is left
standing alone in the half-reaped fields, and sees that now
she will be quite alone and without friends. The corn, silver
and swiftly undulating in fresh winds, has a beauty and peace
where there is suddenly no longer beaut^' and peace. The
corn is luminous and ecstatic, but majestic clouds make the
sky darker than the earth. The life of the village goes on,
and women take on the men's work.

One day Wassily goes to market. He has promised to
bring back presents to the famil}'. Night comes w^ith tor-
rential rain, and in the small room the women are weaving.
The wife and mistress and women friends have a conspira-
torial, uneasy manner. They weave steadily, the looms and
treadles creak, and cover their whispering. Anna, sad,
dreaming of Ivan, is yet aware of their hostility. Wassily
arrives home drenched, and is much fussed over. But Anna
slips away.

He has a shawl for his mistress. She puts it on, flirting,
unwneldly and enticing, in front of him. But this second
shawl . . . she realises is not for her. Her pleasure is short-

CLOSE UP

lived. Wassily takes no notice of her angrv protest, but
goes out bearing the shawl. This, indeed, is her defeat.
She sits down. This is not a moment for the hard remorse-
less fighting she has been engaged in. She simply sits
down. And gradually her face puckers into a grotesque,
miserable dog-like howl.

Presently, however, she is creeping around the house.
Where is Ivan and where is Anna? She opens the door to
the yard, listening and muttering silently. A curtain of
steady rain drips off the thatch in front of her. She tries
another door. Darkness and quiet, and the sound of rain.
It only remains to confirm the truth. Anna's door . . .

She draws back hurriedly in shadow. Wassily comes
out, turns, closing the door and sees her. They stare at each
other. The house becomes taut with the destruction
wrought. He goes without speaking.

Revolution has ended the War. It is new Russia, and
time has elapsed. Wassilissa has joyously greeted the re-
turn of the smith. Women come to her. We need help
with the child's home," they tell her. She prepares to go with
them. The smith protests. What will I do if you waste all your
time up at that place? His manner is new, war-acquired. In
just this simple scene Preobrashenskaja has given a vivid
cameo of the hardening effect of war. In some subtle way
his charm has gone. When he tries to forciblv detain her,
she says quite simply, " That sort of thing is finished with.
This is the New Russia," and walks out. The home " is
the dilapidated mansion of the late landowner. Hundreds
of women and children are clearing and cleaning it up.

A letter has come. The mistress' child comes running,

CLOSE UP

crying a letter has come. They run indoors, wife, mistress,
Anna, the child. Wassily has the letter. News of Ivan.
Terror becomes joy, he is returning. They bow down and
cross themselves. They turn on Anna: Now, you with
your brat, what will he say now he will find out ? We are
covered in shame.'' They moan. The mother screams, alas
that my son should return to this." Anna is driven forth,
broken by their violence. She takes the child with her.
Wassilissa sees her from the steps of the Home, crying and
wretched. They sit together on the steps. Do not worrv,
Wassilissa comforts her, directly the home is finished there
will be a place for your child.

The vSpring Festival. Swings, roundabouts, dancing,
merrymaking. Anna, the mistress, the wife, are all getting
ready in their festival clothes. They sweep out, each tossing
her head at the suffering girl. Anna plaiting her hair, goes
to the window and sees Ivan returning. Panic overtakes
her, she runs away and hides herself in her room. The
family come running to Ivan. Where is Anna? The
frozen silence is broken by the mother. She has brought
shame upon the house. Their hatred is triumphant, and
tears of self pity stream down their cheeks. Poor Ivan, poor,
poor Ivan. The shocked youth finds Anna in her room,
half-dressed, terrified and joyous and tragic. There indeed
is the child. Here, too, his posturing is new. In his rejec-
tion of Anna he gives himself to his family, becomes one
with their baseness. War-acquired. War has not enobled,
it hsiS debased the men.

The festival is at its height. Maidens throw wreaths into
the water — omens for their future. Unseen by the merry-

The Old ^lan himself, played remarkablv bv Xikolas Xademsky, a
young actor of twenty-four. Comments on Zvenigora are elsewhere in

this issue.

Xikolas Xademsky in his remarkable make-up.

Nikolas Xademskv as himself.

From The Son, newly arrived in Germany and to be exploited by
Derussa. Anna Sten fright) plays the leading part. Direction : E.
Tscherwjakov, for Sovkino.

CLOSE UP

makers, Anna comes wild-eyed along the bank. A hounded,
pitiful figure. Soon her 'kerchief is floating with the
wreaths, and everybody is running and falling along the
steep bank, Wassily, Ivan, the women.

Her drowned corpse is brought home. The family sit
around stupid and stupified. Into their midst comes
Wassilissa w^ith supreme and noble scorn of them in her
bearing: gathers up the child. Ivan,'' she snaps at her
brother, ''your father is the guilty one." She goes out, carry-
ing the child. Leave these people to their crimes and their
sins, the child shall not be their victim. And so, the New
Woman, free, brave and strong, and the child in her care,
and scientific social conditions are shown to be what matters
most, and it is upon this note of hope and construction that
the tragic story ends. In the new world there will be no
victimised Annas, no room for cheap scoundrels or men
dulled with outworn prejudice in social and marital matters.
Equal chances, vocational training, sex knowledge and
understanding, efficient education, hygiene, and common-
sense, not only in towns but in every tiny hamlet. Men,
honest and decent and straight, and women freed from harm-
ful superstition of w^eakness and dependability. Comrade-
ship, not ownership. These are the basic principles of Olga
Preobrashenskaja's great and first film. A work of genius,
of unquestionable beauty, reverent, serious and vital. Her
appreciation of picture values alone would entitle her to pro-
found admiration. Her cutting is a miracle, her characterisa-
tion can only be wondered at. Every serious man, and
certainly every w^oman will owe a real debt of gratitude to
this great director for her contribution to the social problems

CLOSE UP

of to-day in relation to women, and picture lovers will wel-
come this film for its swift, dramatic action, its fine sureness
and poetic beauty.

Next Month :

Pits (Die Fallgruben des Levens)^
a new film by A. Room.

M echanics of the Brain,

Bv W. PuDOWKiN & Prof. Pavlov.

MAKING LITTLE FILMS

As Close Up has pointed out in several recent issues, a great
deal of nonsense is talked about the practical side of amateur
film making. For instance, one does NOT need to be a
millionaire to make experimental pictures, and one does NOT
need to spend anything from £'300 up on a camera.

A camera, by the way, is one of the first things which an
amateur group will have to get hold of, and it can be bought
quite cheaply if only one is prepared to make a tour of the
secondhand dealers' shops, where quite serviceable instru-
ments can be picked up for £10, £8 or occasionally as cheaply
as £5. It is advisable to insist on having any secondhand

CLOSE UP

stuff on a week's approval before deciding to purchase — this
is quite a usual stipulation and one which no reputable second-
hand dealer will gib at. A secondhand camera of the kind I
have in mind will NOT, of course, be fitted with any and every
sort of studio dissolving device — it will probably not even
boast a footage indicator. However, one must learn to walk
before one tries to run, and a simple camera, without a
thousand and one etceteras, is more likely to give good results
in the hands of a beginner, than a first-class studio instrument.

And apparatus of this sort CAN and WILL give good
results. A single sprocket topical camera with leaky boxes
and a slow lens (say f 5.6) and no footage indicator or one
turn one picture spindle, represents, I suppose, the very worst
that any one is likely to pick up " on the cheap ". Yet an
instrument of this kind is quite capable of photographing a
•film which will set a standard— PROVIDED IT IS
HANDLED WITH SKILL AND COMMON SENSE.

The lack of a footage indicator is neither here nor there, as
you can alw^ays get a fairly good idea of the footage exposed
on any scene by counting the turns and dividing the result by
two. Leaky boxes can be wrapped up in the black paper
which is used for packing negative and the camera can be
loaded in the dark room. A dark room, incidentally, can be
improvised almost anywhere by covering the windows and
the cracks round the door of a room with overcoats and fitting
a red globe over the electric light. Suitable red globes can be
obtained from any photographic shop for a few shillings. At
a pinch the camera can be loaded in a changing bag (half-plate
size, obtainable at most photographic shops), though this
method of loading needs a bit of practice.

CLOSE UP

An f 5.6, slow though it is as cine lenses go, is really not so
much of a handicap as one would think. The point is that
when working with cheap apparatus one must cut one's coat
according to the cloth at one's disposal, and not expect a slow
lens to be of much use after 6 o'clock on a sunny July evening
in England, unless fast film is being used. It is possible, to
a small extent, to compensate for a slow lens by cranking the
camera slower than the usual twice a second, and so give a
longer exposure. The artistes must in this case act slowly to
synchronise with the slow rate of turning, which is a sight
more difficult to do than it sounds.

The camera will need a tripod, w^hich will cost anything
from 50s. to £50. Here again a tour of the secondhand
dealers is suggested, where a suitable stand should not cost
more than £5 complete with tilting and swivelling head.

This one sprocket camera of ours is quite capable of doing
all the usual studio stunts, such as double exposure cartoon
work and so on, BUT ONLY AT THE PRICE OF CON-
SIDERABLE TliVIE AND TROUBLE. What one has
saved in money by getting the instrument for next to nothing,
one has to make up in time and ingenuity.

Double exposures and possibly mixes can be managed by
marking the film before you start and, after the scene, winding
the film back to the mark in the dark room. This process is
described in full detail in nearly every elementary textbook on
the subject, so I don't propose to repeat it all here.

Fades can be faked by shutting or opening the lens
diaphragm while you are still cranking, but this will not give
a complete fade and is obviously objectionable when one is
already using a small stop. A circle-out can be used as a

CLOSE UP

substitute for a fade, though admittedly rather a miserable
one. It is worked by using a thing called a Cat Eye
which is really a glorified lens diaphragm, used about two
inches in front of the lens. They can be picked up at varying
prices secondhand; I should think about £2 10s. would cover
this item.

A mask box is not a very difficult or expensive thing to
make and is awfullv useful. All vou need is an old camera
bellows and a few odds and ends. A strip of wood is run out
along the top of the camera so that it sticks out a few inches
beyond the lens. The camera bellows are arranged so that
the small end fits over the lens barrel while the large end is
supported by the piece of wood. The masks themselves are
cut out of cardboard with a razor and blackened with Indian
ink; they can be fixed onto the mask box " v/ith drawing
pins. I am afraid that this all sounds rather fearsome on
paper, but it is really easy to make, especially if you do the job
with your camera in front of you so that you can see just how
everything is fitting. The masks should be at least two inches
in front of the usual lens fitted (2^^), and it will be necessary to
open the camera and peer through the gate to get them
properly in position.

The next question is FILM, which is always the most
expensive item in an amateur production. Negative stock
costs 2|d. per foot, developing Jd. and printing IJd. to 3d.
This works out to 4^d. per foot for the finished film, or slightly
over £17 for 1,000 feet, or £8 10s. for 500 feet. The 500 foot
film, by the way, should not be despised. From many points
of view it has much to recommend it to the beginner.

In laboratory work, as in camera work, it is possible to effect

CLOSE UP

considerable economies by " doing for yourself " and taking
a little trouble. Though the cost of negative cannot be
reduced, it is possible to save quite a little money by doing
one's own developing and possibly printing also.

Another of the numerous unexploded fallacies of the
amateur film world is that no one working on a small scale can
do his owm laboratory work profitably. I used to think this
myself, especially after some rather futile efforts at developing
film in two buckets, working it from one to the other to ensure
even development (and scratches !). However, that is by the
way, the point is that there is at least one, and I think several,
small developing outfits on the market which work on the
apron principle like the ordinary Kodak daylight tanks for roll
film. These outfits (the one I use is the BOL) handle about
75 feet of film in just over half a gallon of solution.

If one uses one's developer sufficiently dilute it is possible
to develop and fix one's film, in batches of 75 feet, at a cost of
0.078 pence per foot as opposed to the trade rate of ^d. per
foot — a saving quite worth making.

I use a proprietary developer (Johson's Azol) diluted,
1 ounce Azol to 80 ounces of water, which will develop one
batch of film, after which it is worked out and must be thrown
away. I use 12 ounces of Acid Hypo to 80 ounces of water for
fixing, and this will fix three batches of film (each 75 feet).
All the development I do is done Time and temperature
and I find that a normally exposed film, taken on Agfa's
ordinary negative, is developed in 60 minutes with the
developer at 55°F.

Developing on the time and temperature system really calls
for no skill or judgment on the part of the operator. Once the

CLOSE UP

correct time for a given brand of film, developed at a given
temperature, is ascertained, all you have to do is to put the
film in the solution and pull it out when time is up.

Printing is quite a different proposition. Positive stock
costs Id. per foot, and developing, etc., about the same as for
negative, so that the saving is again 0.422 pence per foot if
you do the job yourself. Some cameras, notably the Bol
Cinegraph, are so made that they can be converted into
printers, though I doubt very much whether the strain im-
posed on the mechanism by using them in this way does the
camera any good. Continuous printers cost about £14 new,
though occasionally they can be obtained from our old friend
the secondhand dealer.

To print one's own positives calls for a good deal more skill
than developing a negative. Apart from this, it is necessary
to watch the image come up in the development, which is
difficult to do in an apron tank, while unless you do use an
apron developing outfit you cannot use your chemicals really
economically. On the whole, my own experience is that
printing is rather beyond the scope of the average amateur.

Another way of saving money, especially if only one copy
of the film will be wanted, is to get your positive by a reversal
process like those used by the majority of the sub-standard
people. You take on positive stock if the light is good
enough, which is, in itself, a considerable saving, since posi-
tive costs Id. against the 2^d. for negative. A very full
exposure is necessary, say f 5.6, or at least f 8 on a sunny day
in England.

The film is developed in the ordinary way, only develop-
ment must be very full — until the film is nearly black on both

CLOSE UP

sides. After development the film is reversed by a solution
of potassium permanganate or potassium bichromate and
sulphuric acid diluted with water. After this a few moments
in a weak hypo bath clears the highlights and the film is ready
for redevelopment and a final washing. After drying, we
have a print ready for projection at an all in cost of about IJd.
per foot or slightly more than the cost of working with a
Cine Kodak.

As I am at present still experimenting with reversal for
standard size film, I hesitate to give detailed formulae which,
at best, would only be indications, but any reader of Close Up
can have full details of the solutions I am using for the asking.
I think a glycin developer is probably best, but I hesitate to
recommend it at this stage.

Another way of producing cheaply is to use paper negative.
Its principal advantages are its low price (less than Id. per
foot) and the fact that, compared with reversal, it gives more
latitude in exposure. On the other hand it is, in my experi-
ence, liable to jamb and tear in the camera since it is not as
tough as celluloid, and the printing process, which is carried
out by the makers, is on the dear side — about 2d. per foot. It
is not as cheap as reversal, but in inexperienced hands will
probably give better results.

The difficulties of taking interior scenes is another aspect of
amateur picture making which has been the cause of numerous
wild and silly statements. Outdoor sets are not particularly
difficult to make, though they are at the mercy of the rain and
wind and, in the writer's opinion, are unsatisfactory from
other points of view. They have, however, been used with
great success by Leon Isaacs, of the Amateur Cinemato-

CLOSE UP

graphers' Association, and Mr. Ronald Gow, of the
Altrincham County High School.

Real interiors can be taken, under favourable conditions,
without the use either of artificial light, which is expensive,
or super speed lenses, w^hich are both expensive and difficult
to use. In the Manchester Film Society's present film the
interiors are real ones and were taken on Agfa Extra Rapid
stock, using a Viogtlander f 4.5 lens. The room had white
walls, a door facing south and a window^ facing west. The
door (which was on the ground and opened onto the garden)
was open and a reflector was placed outside (the reflector was a
piece of beaver board 4 ft. by 4 ft. painted with aluminium
paint). No other lighting w^as used for most of the scenes,
which were very slightly underexposed.

The night scenes in the same film were taken with a IMeteor
Arc light, which is rather a remarkable piece of apparatus.
It consists of two parallel arcs in series, a resistance and a
parabolic reflector. It only uses 5 amps and w^ill work off the
domestic circuits. The parallel arcs need no attention in the
way of feeding, and each pair of carbons wall burn for about
half an hour without attention.

The Meteor people (English agents, O. Sichel) have several
other lights, some with three arcs and some with two. The
Jupiter Model 8 is a similar sort of light, but it is more
powerful and needs more current. The Bell and Howell Co.
handle the Halldorsen Cinema arc for amateurs, but its cur-
rent consumption is rather high — 20 amps, I think. The
Amalgamated Photographic Manufacturers, of Soho Square,
make a series of photographic arcs, some of which are suitable
for amateur cinematography.

CLOSE UP

1 don't suggest for a second that any of these lights will
light a whole set, but they are useful for night scenes and
shadow effects w^hich could not otherwise be obtained, and also
as auxiliaries to daylight on bad days. Most of them will
w^ork off the domestic circuits, though it is perhaps advisable
to see the supply company before wiring one up — especially
as one may be able to get power rates by so doing. The prices
vary from £2 10s. up. The cheaper models are not fitted with
stands, but these are easily manufactured out of old music
stands or anything else handy.

Magnesium flares are useful on occasion. They give a
flickery light, but this does not matter for such things as
candlelight or fireside effects, which are flickery anyway.
Magnesium flares produce volumes of smoke and are therefore
not suitable for scenes of a prolonged kind, and the actual
flare must be shielded away from the lens to avoid halation.
Magnesium ribbon and holders can be obtained from photo-
graphic shops, as it is used by still photographers for making
gaslight prints.

I am afraid that in these random notes I have not been able
to do more than merely indicate the unlimited possibilities of
makeshift apparatus — after all, it is the CAMERAMAN and
the DIRECTOR, and NOT the camera and the studio, w^ho
make the picture.

Peter Le Neve Foster.

CLOSE UP

DOPE OR STIMULUS

How many people of the thousands who compose audiences
derive direct enjoyment from the spectacles they watch ? It
has seemed to me returning- from Germany that many Eng-
Hsh take theatres, games, papers, cinemas even as dope; that
their attitude is that of the drug-taker achieving a state of
intoxication that has nothing to do with what they watch, be
it cricket, play or movie, but is built up by association of long
ago events. They hypotize themselves into an expectation
that a given star or theatre or idea will produce a given re-
sult. They surrender to this, all logical faculties in abey-
ance, and achieve complete gratification whatever the
material set in front of them provided it is presented in an
expected and familiar manner. To particularize, a thought-
ful book happens to be written about a social problem widely
discussed across the Continent. It is attacked by a cheap
Press in a vulgar and stupid manner. Nobody protests. Yet
the people who buy these papers go to theatres where the
same subject and questions of sex in general are dealt with
in songs and dialogues in the most suggestive and nauseating
manner. The public have surrended logical processes, to
them the performance is not pleasure, but dope ; they do not

CLOSE UP

reason; on every side is heard, Oh, how charming '\
how pretty damned good of a song say that in its
actual meaning implies a view of life almost too raw for
prostitutes. It is exactly the same with games. You will
hear times without number that football and cricket develop
community feelings and promote unselfishness, in spite of
every proof to the contrary. (If they promote such com-
munity feeling why is it that the most unfair propaganda
against Russian films comes from the people in England who
play these games most, and, therefore, are supposed to ac-
quire a spirit of fairness, the Public Schools?) What has
actually happened is that like the monkey in Prof. Pavlov's
experiment who reached always for food at the sight of a blue
plate, they are not reacting directly to amusement or to art,
but are reacting instead to a sequence of familiar ideas, that
are not unfortunately true to the ideas or progress of to-day.
And beyond this, as they are not deriving direct stimulus
from their pleasure, like a drug taker or a drunkard they have
continually to increase the dose, the one particular dose,
cricket or theatre, or set of ideas that first gave them gratifica-
tion, till a period of staleness sets in w^hen they are incapable
of reacting to anything and when they also get nothing from
their watching to add to their working life. For art or out-
side interest is as necessary to the worker as sleep or food.
Without it, without utter relaxation from work he is not
going indefinitely to be capable of interest in his job, he is
going to become stale, a mechanical figure without the
stability that a robot would have.

How different the audiences are in Germany. I went to
two different cinemas in Berlin, in one a famous Hollywood

CLOSE UP

picture was shown, in the other a new German super film
with a very popular star. The audience waited quietly in
each case till the film finished. Then burst an inspiring riot
of shrill derisive whistles. They knew that both the films
were bad and were alive enough, critical enough to retaliate
with their opinions.

They had gone to a cinema not to forget but to live. Not
to live in a past age but to get new ideas, fresh stimulus for
their own work of to-morrow. Of course a great many bad
films are shown in Germany, but the point is the audiences
are critical, there are a number of people who, even if they
like bad films, know why they like them and why they want
them. And there is none of that self-conscious amateurish
attitude. I don't know what I am doing, but applaud me
because Tm doing my best.'*

To watch may be a vital way to life. But to watch hypnoti-
cally something which has become a habit and which is not
recorded as it happens by the brain, differs little from the
drug taker's point of view, and is destructive because it is
used as a cover to prevent real consideration of problems,
artistic, or sociological, and the creation of intelligent English
films.

CLOSE UP

COMMENT AND REVIEW

SIX STOKERS ]VHd OWX THE BLOOMIX' EARTH,
at the Gate Theatre, London.

Like the poor, the critics are always with us. Years ago
producers, actors and managers woke up, on the morning after
a first night, and wondered what the star critics would say (at
least, I hope they did); but to-day they merely wonder if the
star critics can say it all over again. Our dramatic critics
especially are as true to their material as the established
favourites of our music-halls. Quite naturally, then, the
erudite columns of The Observer described the cinemato-
graphic commentary to Six Stokers Who Oivn the Bloomin'
Earth as hiccups of a tipsy cinematograph '\

Splendid hiccups I The little experimental Gate Theatre,
in Villiers Street, dared to combine stage and screen for the
first time in London. Piscator had done it in Germany,
Russia had done it, but this is London. Mr. Peter Godfrey
and Mr. Dennis Freeman simplv picked up a Kadascope,
hardly more than a toy, and shot their film while others were
talking. They took it in the Gate Theatre itself, using the
theatre lights, and their friends played the parts.

" We attempted," ]\Ir. Freeman told me, a definite
rhythm. It is not supposed to be completely wild. The man

CLOSE UP

playing the banjo is the spirit of jazz ; if we had possessed a
real camera we would have superimposed the banjo player
over the other scenes. A little obvious perhaps, but . .

What does it matter if most of the scenes are underlit?
What does it matter if distortion effects are obtained by the
simple expedient of turning the camera upside down ? What
does matter is that the experiment has succeeded.

Think of the play without the film, and you will realise how
important the film is. A rather tedious allegory, it is rendered
vastly amusing the ingenuities of production. There are jazz
angels who appear on rafters above the heads of the audience,
lantern slides, constructivist scenery, and above all the film.
Naturally, the confession that the play is meant to be a joke
gives the producers considerable licence, and in the circum-
stances the somewhat jejune atmosphere is admirably in
keeping with the spirit of the production. For example,
there is a model of a skyscraper which catches fire. You can
see the dreadful moment when the anxious technicians had to
blow on the flames to rekindle them. Also, there is an
endearing bit of mock abstract

Necessity again has dictated a verv eft'ective method of freak
projection. The problem of " throw " is overcome by
placing the screen at an angle to the projection machine hidden
in the wings, and at the same time quite a novel frame is
achieved.

Is this," I asked Mr. Freeman, just a delightful joke or
a promise ?"

He explained to me that Elmer L. Greensf elder, who wTote
Six Stokers Who Own the Bloomin' Earth, conceived a
realistic setting; real cliff's, sea, and sky. Now Toller in a

CLOSE UP

new drama, with which the Gate Theatre hope to open their
new season, has actually written in the part that the cinemato-
graph has to play, and the producers will attempt seriously to
translate Toller's wishes. It will be time to criticise then, at
present it would be as foolish as ungracious.

As a last word — because the producer used a Kodascope the
film could not have cost them very much, which is always
heartening news for amateurs. Unfortunately, the enlarge-
ments from the film do not make printable reproductions, but
next time it is intended to be very professional and take
separate still-pictures.

OSWELL BlAKESTON.

HOLLYWOOD NOTES

The phonofilm as a subject of interest and discussion
overshadows for the present every other topic in Hollywood.
While all of the studios are hurrying forward preparations for
the use of this new invention, its eft'ect upon the industry is
exciting widespread speculation.

Certain legal questions are also becoming involved in it.
Already the owners of stage plays and musical comedies who
sold their picture rights sometime ago are protesting against
the reproduction of the dialog and the music on the screen ;
contending that this was not contemplated in the sale of

picture rights And another legal point that threatens
trouble is the question whether a screen actor's contract
permits the producer to employ the actor in a speaking film
without additional compensation.

CLOSE UP

Also, it is not unlikely that difficulties will arise over patent
rights in the use of the many varieties of synchronized sound
device now on the market — Vitaphone, Movietone, Cine-
phone, Photophone, Cortellaphone, Hanaphone, Firnaphone,
etc.

As yet no generic term has been adopted to describe audible
films. Colloquially they are spoken of as Talkies but
this term is too limited in its connotation. It fails to suggest
the use of music and other sounds besides those of human
speech. Phonofilm " appears to be best thus far put for-
ward, but it will probably prove too formal and lengthy for
general adoption by the brevity-loving American public.

A number of feature pictures produced before the advent of
the present phonofilm vogue have recently been equipped with
sound effects, in order to meet the now popular demand for
this new departure. The King of Kings, Sunrise, The
Godless Girl, Uncle Tom's Cabin, The Man Who Laughs,
and The Four Sons, are among the several big pictures to
which sound accompaniments have been added.

* * *

Norma Talmadge's latest picture, The Woman Disputed,
produced by United Artists, is booked for release in Septem-
ber. It was directed by Henry King, with Robert Florey as
his assistant. The photodram.a is from Denison Clift's stage
success of the same title. King regards it as the most
powerfully dramatic story he has yet directed.

Clift, the author of the story, is himself a picture director
as well as a playwright. During the present year he has
forsaken Hollywood for Elstree, where he has been directing

CLOSE UP

for the British International Pictures. Two of his recently
completed stage plays, The Leak and Scotland Yard, are
scheduled for early production both in London and New
York, and later will undoubtedly be transferred to the screen.

* * *

Commercial Hollywood is not wholly unappreciative of art
films and the genius that can produce them, provided they
furnish evidence of public endorsement. Charles Klein's
recent little masterpiece of psychologic artistry, The Tell-
Tale Heart, which had its first private showing at a dinner
given by the Hollywood Association of Foreign Correspon-
dents in honor of Lily Damita, was later accorded popular
approval when shown at the Filmarte Theatre and thereby
won for its maker a contract with the Fox Company, where he
is now completing The Fog, with Mary Astor and George
O'Brien,

Paul Fejos, the author and director of The Last Moment, is
another whose idealistic work has secured recognition from a
big producer. He is now associated with Universal as a
director, and is busy on a series of special pictures for that
company.

Eric von Stroheim is directing Gloria Swanson's next
picture. The Swamp, which is being made at the FBO studios.
This particular combination of director and star should ensure
a production of unusual interest and merit.

The story, which was written by von Stroheim himself, is
laid in Berlin and in German East Africa. Miss Swanson,
since the pronounced success of her Sadie Thompson, follow-
ing a number of unfortunate picture failures, has regained for

CLOSE UP

the time her former prestige in the cinema world ; and the
present von Stroheim opus offers exceptional opportunities for
her particular type of dramatic talent and should aid
materially in furthering her renewed popularity. The picture
will probably be completed sometime this fall.

The Hollywood Bowl has just completed another successful
season of concerts. This is one of California's unique
institutions of fine art, and is liberally patronised by the
picture colony. The " Bowl is a natural amphitheatre in
the rugged hills that form the background of Hollywood, and
here for six weeks during the summer season is presented a
series of open-air symphony concerts.

These symphonies under the stars " are largely attended,
averaging probably fifteen thousand a night, and attract not
only music lovers from far and near, but also many notable
American and European conductors, who share during the
season in directing the concerts.

* * *

The Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Company have undertaken two
very unique filmings — Trader Horn and The Bridge of San
Luis Rey. They recently acquired the picture rights to both
of these unusual books, and in the belief that they can be
successfully translated to the screen and will prove as popular
there as they have to the reading public, the company is
devoting much time and money to the undertaking.

Trader Horn will be directed by W. S. Van Dyke, whose
current picture. White Shadows in the South Seas, from

CLOSE UP

O'Brien's book of the same title, has demonstrated his ability
in this type of exotic work. At this writing he and his com-
pany are preparing to leave for Africa, where the picture will
be made against the very backgrounds of Horn's remarkable
tales. They will carry with them, in addition to their travel-
ling and camping outfit, a complete studio equipment,
including not only generators and lights, but also sound-
recording devices for securing the wild animal voices of the
jungles.

^ ^ ♦

Cecil de Mille, in recognition of his services to
Christendom " by reason of his picture. The King of Kings,
has been honored with official rank in the Order of the Holy
Sepulchre. The Jerusalem patriarchal head of this ancient
and exclusive order, founded by Constantine the Great, has
conferred upon De Mille the degree of Officer of the Holy
Sepulchre. The decorations of the office, which include a
putative splinter from the Cross, were recently transmitted to
De Mille by the Knight Grand Cross, Lieutenant-General
Frits Holm, Duke of Koladhine, of Chaville.

C. H.

TWELVE COMPLAINTS AGAINST THE CINEMA
By Ernest Betts

1. That too many kisses spoil the screen.

2. That we are all utterly tired of the old film stories and
that new ones can be found.

CLOSE UP

3. That it is higli time new film music as well as new story
value was given to us.

4. That a lady has never been shown on the pictures.

5. That the admission of variety into picture houses is a
confession that the pictures alone are not good enough.

6. That this argument applies with equal force to the
" talkies and that it is not the business of the movies to
imitate the stage.

7. That Peckham, Kilburn, Holborn Circus, Richmond,
Ealing, Bloomsbury, with all their delights and terrors, are
never showm on the pictures.

8. That British pictures have not yet had the courage to
break away from feeble imitations of America.

9. That w^e shall only know our owm films are first-rate when
other countries begin imitating tis — and that it is a pity this
hasn't happened already.

10. That too many people speak ill of the pictures without
taking the trouble to go and see them. (This is a complaint
against the film public.)

11. That so many brilliant pictures are only given a week's
run on general release and that after that there is very little
chance of seeing them.

12. That during the summer there are no open-air cinemas.

Ernest Betts.

THE BALLET WITH FILM

M. Diagilev's ballet, on its annual visit of mercy to London,
performed in Ode^ one of the loveliest of its recent creations,
a ballet with film for a background. That is to say, during

CLOSE UP

two of the scenes three projectors threw abstract designs onto
parts of the wings and backcloth. Since it was the ballet
doing it, the abstract designs were rather better than the use
of that adjective would lead one to expect. But Ode was not
what we have been waiting to see, a cinema ballet.

The projections were only part of the main theme, which
was a Pirandellian concern with ultimate reality, and were not
used to interpret that theme. Lifar, asking Nature to show
him her secrets, was rewarded by a display that included a
lot of noisy clicking on and off of electric torches, to represent
her constellations, a quite beautiful dance of creatures under
a fishing net, who were a river, and finally, a still more
beautiful dance, against a background of the corps de ballet
in sequined grey satin who diminished into similarly dressed
Venetian dolls, of Massine and Nikitina behind two veils that
hung down from a pole they held before them. Ode was, as
the catchphrase goes, a Getting Down to Essentials, which
was very evident in the first dance of Lifar when a white rope
filled out geometrically the movements of his legs. Here, was
said at once, is no business with characters, but with the
patterns they make, the space they fill as they move, and so
the dancers wore skin-tights that made them resemble the
wooden figures in artists' shops and the corps de ballet,
interesting for their shape, diminished into dolls of the same
shape. Thus also the cinema was called in to represent
flowers. One had a slight feeling that it was called in to
prevent the designer having to evolve some other way of
avoiding dressing his dancers as flowers, which would, of
course, have been too vieux jeu for words. But cinema as a
social cocktail is itself equally vieux jeu, and one had hoped

CLOSE UP

that more real use might have been made of it. Except for the
defunct Pastorale, this is the first ballet in which M. Diagilev
has shown that he realises the potentialities of combining the
two forms ; one had imagined that he was waiting till someone
had made a vital and necessary use of it. But the cinema in
Ode is used, as the constructivist scenery in The Cat was used,
as things in the ballet have got into the habit of being used,
for decorative purposes rather than for expression. Cinema
is so amusing ", and it solves a lot of difficulties. Yet it
was not so " amusingly " used as in last year's Berlin pro-
duction of Hopp-la Wir Leben, and there is a great deal,
which does not seem to have been practically considered, in
which a combination of dancing figures before and within a
moving film, could give true and considerable delight. One
cannot help thinking that if M. Diagilev's troupe is to go on
being the spice in London's rather stodgy pudding, a little
less Monte Carlo and a little more Moscow would give it a
great kick.

R. H.

We have received from Mr. Rogerson an interesting cata-
logue of educational films from British Instructional Films
Ltd., 46, Brewer Street, W.l. Among others are films dealing
with agriculture, poultry, rearing, the mechanism of a motor
car, various geographic pictures dealing with different parts
of the Empire, health, animals, and many other subjects.

It is stated that the cost of hiring the films is ten shillings
per reel and carriage one way, or a special contract may be
made to cover a number of reels delivered over a period. Films

CLOSE UP

may be kept one day only, and mostly are one reel long. It
is impossible to comment on films from a catalogue, but it is
hoped that a member of Close Up staff may be able to view
certain of them during the autumn, when a fuller review can
be given. One does not need to wait, however, to decide that
the idea of these films is basically excellent, and that here is
the best and perhaps the only means to build up a systematic
circulation of films valuable in interest and education. The
haphazard and half-hearted efforts in educational films so far
achieved have succeeded only in creating prejudices against
them, whereas the really instructive film could and should
have the highest value both in interest and entertainment.
For if we are really interested there is the highest form of
entertainment. A good simple film dealing with the mechan-
ism of a motor car (to take one example) must be invaluable
to all learners, for it cannot be denied that far too few people
even among car owners are the least aware of how their motor
runs, or of what to do when it wont. For films of this de-
scription there is an ever widening field.

Abwege (Crisis).

Erda film. Direction G. W. Pabst. Featuring Brigitte

Helm, Jack Trevor, Herthe van Walter.

Pabst's extraordinary directorial gifts are here lent to the
story of a marital misunderstanding. There has grown, not
unjustifiably, the opinion that anything by Pabst must be
right. But we must begin our review with several criticisms
before passing on to praise.

Firstly, the scenario. Just as much as that of Joyless

CLOSE UP

Street was noble, this was trivial. A young wife neglected
by a husband w^ho loves her but is too busy to say so, becomes
at length so overstrung that she rushes to an artist friend who
suggests they go to Vienna together. She responds with de-
light (surely a far too sudden delight ; too complete a break
of mood from the burning, unhappy resentment of a moment
earlier?) and leaves to prepare. The husband who has fol-
lowed in a taxi, sees the artist and points out that he is rich
and the artist poor, and he would do well to leave his wife
where she will have the things she needs. So it is he who
meets her at the station and brings her home, where a curt
note from the artist completes her humiliation. The hus-
band has that night another meeting. This is, the young
wife feels, just too much. She rushes from the room. After
going to, and loathing the kind of night carbaret her friends
frequent, she returns, fearing suddenly that her husband may
have shot himself. But he has only awaited her in their bed-
room and he wakes to her embrace. A carnival doll, how-
ever, turns reconciliation to deeper misunderstanding, and
the young wife, making a last gesture, begins a flirtation wuth
a boxer whom she had met at the carbaret. Her woman
friend one day informs the husband that she has gone to the
artist's rooms with the boxer. The artist has returned to find
her there on the point of being forcibly raped by the young
man, and torn his sketches of her from his easel. The boxer
leaves, and the husband arrives. She tears off her dress and
appears before him thus, unquestionably compromised.
Divorce. But this very event clears the air, and the mis-
understanding. They come together again, and decide to
remarry.

CLOSE UP

Hollywood has done it, so has France, and the theatres had
it twenty years ago. That is the disappointment. This film
is old-fashioned in its tendency, in its thought and its con-
ventions, whereas all Pabst's previous films have been com-
pletely modern. It has nothing to say against system where
such arrogant conduct is necessary, no new suggestion, no
comment. It was in many w^ays an excellent film, and the
situation marvellously worked out. But Pabst is a philo-
sopher, and we have, grown to expect some valuable contri-
bution to thought from him. Jeanne Ney had it. Joyless
Street was nothing else. But in Abwege the obvious prob-
lems arising from just this situation are ignored. It is an
artistic trifle. If the husband is the kind of man who turns
frivolous but otherwise quite nice people out of his house,
when his wife has seen fit to accept them, we need nowadays
to be shown that this line of arbitrary conduct is not going
to be tolerated, and that no wife of to-day is going to be
treated like an irresponsible moron, and that her friends
would put such a man quickly in the place that belongs to
him. Wo do not wish his silly actions to be allowed to pass
as right or virtuous. They are wrong and reactionary, and
this is the time to keep on showing it.

And a wife who cannot express her independance except in
meretricious and vulgar liaisons is also a product of the past.
It would have been so much more stimulating and real if she
had walked out and taken a job.

This may seem unduly harsh, but it is true at bottom, and
we cannot in honour to ourselves pass as first rate a film which
is so obviously second.

The technique . . . but one does not have to speak of Pabst's

CLOSE UP

technique. His facility for choosing always an angle for his
camera which is dynamic and poignant remains a lasting
wonder. The photography is beautiful, and some of the
moments of a fierce intensity and great beauty. Brigitte
Helm gives the greatest performance of her career. She is
nothing short of marvellous. Her strange power and her
strange beauty have been utterly understood and brought
across. The intensity of her moods, the underlying hysteria
and repression and bitter resentment are quite one of the most
vibrant things that the screen has given. And Herthe van
Walter as her friend has contrived to give herself a hardness
she most certainly does not actually possess. Anyway, in
spite of this superb characterisation, she remained a most
likeable person. Her smile was always joyous, never vicious.
Indeed, one's sympathy was so much more with her and her
friends than with the dull, ill-mannered husband.

The cabaret was to cabarets what the Paris in Jeanne Ney
was to Paris. That is to say, a cabaret suddenly became
something more than superimposed legs, corks, negros, saxa-
phones and carnival streamers. The vicious undertones of
this place were deft with the deftness of the brothel in Joyless
Street, and the little, thin, forlorn and quite worn out woman
purveying dope was on the superb level of Valeska Gert as
the entrepreneuse in Joyless Street. These were the best
scenes of the film. Let it be stated that it had to be rushed
through in seventeen days. It is a great film and a petty film
in one. And should certainly be seen.

CLOSE UP

Looping the Loop.

Ufa. Directed by Paul Robison. Featuring Werner
Krauss, Jenny Jugo, and Warwick Ward.

Can it be possible that people are so impressed with circus
films? Here is another, and the theme is one we know
inside out, backwards, forwards, and upside down. The
clown with the aching heart, the worthless female who causes
all the trouble, the philandering villian, and the Big Turn
that goes wrong. It is surprising that the public can go with
interest to a film, the complete events of which it can foresee
from the first moment, but apparently it does, though even
those who like repetition without end will have to feel that the
edge is a bit worn off this most favourite of all box office
themes. Nevertheless, Robison has managed to give us a
film which — story apart — is able to hold our attention, and
now and then our admiration. Werner Krauss, for once act-
ting straight and not in character, has never been better.
His role as clown is hardly important, and does not matter.
It is the Krauss behind the clown, the — so to speak, ache
behind the smile, that matters. He has insuperable suavity,
a charming worldliness. And power. There is not one false
gesture, not one over emphasis, not even one moment where
the triviality of what he has to do seems trivial, for he has
succeeded in giving a profound character study, which in it-
self and unrelated to other incident could not be bettered.
Indeed, characterisation is the strong factor in this otherwise
weak film. Jenny Jugo has great quality, and is convincing
and consistent in the part of a sullen, stupid girl. Her su!-
lenness is very adroitly conveyed through her various flirta-

CLOSE UP

tions, and the entirely meretricious character is drawn with
exactitude and good balance. Warwick Ward has an unfor-
tunate part. He is very good in it, which may seem rather
two edged praise, but the truth is he has a technique worthy
of better material. We know people like this do exist, cheap
and quite unpleasant philanderers, but they are so painfully
uninteresting, though you would not think it to go to the
movies. The photography, the lighting are good, and the
technique brisk and convincing. But here is the proof that
good treatment of a theme is not enough. Robison is cap-
able of first class work. But even his ingenuity cannot hold
our interest in a theme which was pounded to death quite five
years ago. However, see Looping the Loop if it comes your
way for its technique and its characterisation.

Mr. Anthony Asquith is making a new German-English
film for Terra, entitled The Road to Happiness (Die Fahrt
ins Gluck). Fritz Wendhausen who made Out of the Mist is
assisting. Mady Christians will take the leading part.

Emelka has started a new Carl Grune film, Waterloo. The
Reiber Brothers (Ludwig and Willy) are in charge of the tech-
nical details and the sets, and Fritz Arno Wagner will photo-
graph.

THE CHINESE SYSTEM OF PHYSICAL CULTURE,

At the Jungfernsee, one of the many lakes near Berlin, Dr.
Nikolau Kaufmann is producing an educational film on

CLOSE UP

Chinese physical culture. His technical adviser is H. C.
Tsiang, a Chinese athlete and member of the German
Academy of Physical Culture. The film is for UFA.

* * *

Again pressure of space forbids a list of recommended films.
As, however, this list has been a popular item with our
readers, we are arranging to print it in revised and enlarged
form next month without fail, even if it means holding over
some of the other material.

* * *

We are honoured to welcome Herr Andor Krazsna-Krausz,
eminent editor of Germany's most interesting film journal.
Film Technik, as our Berlin correspondent. Herr Krazsna-
Krausz rightfully enjoys the reputation of being one of the
few really good critics of modern cinema, and his forthcom-
ing monthly articles will be of great value and interest, we
are sure, to our readers throughout the world.

The Avenue Pavilion

101 Shaftesbury Avenue^ W-1

A GAUMONT-BRITISH THEATRE
The Home of International Film Art.
Managing Director - REGINALD C. Bromhead. Manager - Leslie Ogilvie.
Director of Music - Arthur Dulay.

The following attractions will be presented exclusive to this theatre :

MARRIAGE OF THE BEAR

A remarkable Russian production, suggested by the story Lokis, by Prosper Merimee.
Directed by Konstantin Eggert. Featuring Konstantin Eggert & W. S. Malinow.

STUDENT OF PRAGUE

A legend of Bohemia. The story of a man who sold his soul.
Directed by Henrik Galeen. Featuring Conrad Veidt, Werner Krauss, Agnes Esterhazy &

Elizza La Porte.

ATONEMENT OF GOSTA BERLING

From the story by Dr. Selma Lagerlof, for which she was awarded
the Nobel Prize. She is an Honorary Doctor of the University (Sweden).
Directed by Mauritz Stiller. Sweden's Foremost Director. Featuring Lars Hansen, Greta
Garbo, Jenny Hasselquist, Gerda Lunequist Dahistrom & Ellen Cederstrom,

Premier Presentation —

HE WHO COVETS

A story of Russia, the Bolshevic risings, and Revolution.
Directed by Robert Dinesen. Featuring Olga Tschechowa, Paul Hartman & Robert Dinesen

LOVES OF THE MIGHTY

A story of the French Revolution.
A Ufa Production. Featuring Emil Jannings as Danton. Werner Krauss as Robespierre.

MANON LESCAUT

Adapted from the famous and tragical romance by the Abbe Prevost, and the Opera by Massenet.
Directed by Dr. Arthur Robertson. Costumes by Paul Leni. Featuring Lya de Putti &

Vladimir Gaidarow.

Premier Presentation —

TARTUFF

From the story by Von Moliere. " He who sins in secret does not sin at all."
Directed by F. W. Mumau. Photographed by Carl Freund. Featuring Emil Jannings,
Werner Krauss and Lil Dagover.

THE LAST LAUGH

The story of an hotel porter whose tragedy lies in the loss of his uniform.
Directed by F. W. Mumau. Featuring Emil Jannings, George John, Emille Kurz & Maby

Delschaft.

Buses to the Door : — Nos. la, ic, 14, 14a, 19c, igd, 22, 24, 29, 29a, 29b, 29c, 38, 39, 48, 129, 138.

NetvSy Star, and Standard.
Continuous Performances DAILY, commencing at 2 p.m. till n p.m. SUNDAYS 6 — 11
Each session lasts three hours, thereby making 3 sessions per day, viz : —

2 till S S till 8 8 till 1 1

MATINEES recommended for comfortable choice of seats.

AV^kat s Happening
m A merica

along the line of visual
instruction in schools,
and in the general field of public
education, is presented in

Tke EDUCATIONAL SCREEN

The only magazine in the United States specifi-
cally devoted to the serious side of pictures

New thought on the subject

New productions in educational films

Current opinion on the Hollywood product

The Educational Screen is known
around the world.

Foreign subscription price :

3.00 for one year 4.00 for two years

THE EDUCATIONAL SCREEN, 5 S. WABASH AVENUE,
CHICAGO, U.S.A.

London Office ;

24 DEVONSHIRE STREET,
W.C.I

(For all business matters in England)
^ole American and Canadian Distributors :

THE FILM ARTS GUILD
500 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

Through whom all enquiries in America and
Canada with reference to Close Up should
be made.

THE ONLY MAGAZINE DEVOTED TO FILMS

AS AN ART

Interesting and Exclusive Illustrations

THEORY AND ANALYSIS NO GOSSIP

I shilling or 5 trancs (French) or i mark (German)
35 cents I fratic (Swiss) shillings (Austrian)

Vol. Ill No. \ OCTOBER 1928

CLOSE UP

OCTOBER 1928

I Shilling
5 Francs
I Mark
35 Cents
T Franc Swiss

CLOSE UP

Editor : K. Macpherson
Assistant Editor : Bryher

Published by POOL
Riant Chateau • Territet * Switzerland

Contents :

As Is Kenneth Macppierson

A Statement . . Eisenstein, Pudowkin, Alexandroff

The Film Congress . . . AndorKrazsna-Krausz

Six Russian Films {contd.) . K.M.

Film Imagery : Pudowkin . . Robert Herring

Music and the Cinema . . Oswell Blakeston

Experiments .... Adrien Brunel

King Vidor on European Films .

Book Reviews . . . Jean Lenauer

Le Film a Geneve . . . Freddy Chevalley

Comment and Review

Paris Correspondent :
London Correspondent :
Hollywood Correspondent
New York Editor :

Marc Allegret
Robert Herring
Clifford Howard
Symon Gould
A. Krazsna-Krausz
F. Chevalley

Berlin Correspondent :
Geneva Correspondent :

Subscription Rates :

ENGLAND
FRANCE .
GERMANY
AMERICA

14 shillings per year
70 francs per year
14 marks per year
3 dollars and 50 cents per year

CLOSE UP

Vol. Ill No. 4 October 1928

AS IS

BY THE EDITOR

A little white-faced man sat in a chair waving his arms at
me, and rapping home his point with great intensity.
" People,'* he said, " don't want to think. They won't
think."

Hundreds of people have said just that in just that way to
me for years and years. People, apparently, won't think.
People keep on exasperatedly discovering it. People won't
think.

It is a fact which no-one can dispute; indeed, one which
no-one has disputed. People won't think because they very
often can't. Their capacity in that direction, such as it is,
is exhausted by the competition and striving of their daily
lives. And to think in the sense that thinking is meant by
those who say people won't think, is to have ideas, theories ;
to be, or to have the making of, a philosopher.

Now the argument that is made when you suggest that the
cinema should be used to make people think is that people
don't want to be taught but entertained; that they go to the

CLOSE UP

cinema not for additional problems in their already over-
stocked-with-problems lives, but for relaxation.

In other words, entertainment and relaxation are a state of
suspended animation. They must be, if thought, which is
the most living thing in life, is debarred from them. If enter-
tainment is thoughtless, then it is mindless, and a mindless
thing we are apt to imprison. Thus by every law of logic, to
be entertained is to reduce oneself to a state of fitness for an
infirmary.

There is the reduction of the argument they use. And it is
no more true actually than saying that the present commercial
cinema is intellectual stimulus.

Another conclusion is that entertainment constitutes the
inefficient aphrodisiac of cabaret scenes, strong men scenes
and weak women scenes. But this hardly holds water, since
you see what real entertainment is when something becomes
a real problem recognisable to all, or a real incident, or a real
state of mind or of being. People become alert. Thev come
to life. They may have been sitting back three parts inatten-
tive, completely listless. Something vital flashes before
them, something thev recognise, and voti can sense the switch-
over to receptivity : just as if a light had been, so to speak,
turned on.

I don't think people are entertained any more by the fol-
lowing screen conventions, even though they are inseparable
from most of the best films yet made.

People are not entertained by the blond heroine, who tastes
Strong Drink for the first time, and says Ugh I I She always
does. Nowadays a girl either likes or doesn't like strong
drink, but she certainly knows all about it. And, in this

CLOSE UP

connection, people are not entertained by the undesirable man
who always offers it for purposes of his own.

People are not entertained by the stahvart hero who teaches
the flighty heroine a lesson, nor by the astute female digger
who gets her man.

People are not entertained by the people who go abroad and
order two gigolos and mashed in the Moulin Rouge.

People are not entertained by the heroine's camiknickers.
Their appearance always means that an irate husband is about
to find her out.

People are not entertained by the hero who says Let me
explain." They know only too well that screen heroines
never permit such things.

People are not entertained by the hero w^ho mistakes the
heroine's baby sister for her illegitimate offspring.

People are not entertained by the heroine who had to sin
but didn't want to, and has such a tough time hushing it up
from the gent who finds out in reel four, and relents in reel six.

People are not entertained by the Poor Little Old Fashioned
Pal o' Mine. Not even in talkie (or single) version.

People are not entertained by the heroine who has to run up
the lamp-lit street in the rain because someone has tried to get
fresh with her.

People are not entertained by the struggles that go on
between ladies in evening dress, and gents in deserted houses,
nor particularly by the nick-of-time struggles. These latter
are between good young men, and bad middle-aged ones.
They always knock over everything, and the good man
always wins, and bears off the fainting form of his still un-
tainted loved-one.

CLOSE UP

People are not entertained by the little home that is going
to be sold up, or by the One Condition the rich man makes
before promising not to hand over the erring brother to the
police. Nor by the untimely hour of night at which the
spotless heroine pays her call to plead for him.
.... If I'm not careful Til be giving people ideas for yet
more entertainment along the smoothly running railway lines
of good scenarios.

People, I say, are not entertained by these and their twin
stock-in-trade screen, situations. They accept them, tolerate
them, comment on them. Isn't she sweet, isn't he a brute,
hasn't she a sad face. What actually does happen is this.
Four-fifths of the cinema public goes to the cinema as escape,
or rest, or refuge from rain, boredom, dullness, strain, sorrow,
hate. The cinema, in other words, is a palliative to them.
Somewhere where they can sink, so to speak, to their intel-
lectual lowest, where they can brood, dream, drift, pick up
and discard fragments of thoughts and plans, get out of them-
selves into the strangely potent drug of dark and light and
music. All these naturally need no more than what they get.
They think that people like myself are an untimely nuisance,
and that the movies are perfect as they are. I myself have
staggered from the rarified beauty of Soviet films, feeling that
the only thing I can bear, the only thing I can look at will be
one of those utterly bad, facile, brilliant Hollywood comedies,
charming antidote to greatness. There is the thing in a nut-
shell. People stagger to the movies in this way, to get away
from themselves, from problems they have gnawed to bits,
and worries worn shapeless. Obliteration of identity is the
cinema's great gift.

CLOSE UP

And it is these people, going in by chance to some such
film, say, as The Peasant Women of Riazani, who emerge the
greatest converts to the necessity of Film Art. They have
been entertained. Their minds, bodies, souls, spirits, have
responded, have been lifted on wings, re-fired, inspired.
Nothing has ever done that thing to them before, and having
experienced it once, they must have it again. Respite, in-
stead of being lethargy, becomes renewal of faith. They go,
not back to drudgery, back to problems gnawn to bits and
worries worn shapeless, but with inspiration, strength and
gratitude. They have literally received life. Their minds
have been lifted beyond what now they will be apt to call
petty care. The ordinary cinema sends them home with no
message and no construction. Life goes on from where it left
off. They have been dulled, but no effect lingers. They go
from the great films with triumph and vision. They have
been entertained. Entertainment becomes life. People may
not want to think, people won't think, but they will be enter-
tained. And the way to do it is to go the same way about it
as you would if you were determined to make them think.
They won't think, but they cannot help themselves. Thought
and entertainment are one.

Kenneth ]\Iacpherson.

CLOSE UP

THE SOUND FILM

A Statement from U.S.S.R.

The cherished dream of a talking film is realised. The
Americans have invented the technique of the talking film,
and have brought it to the first stage of practical utilisation.
Germany, too, is working strenuously in the same direction.
All over the world people are talking of the dumb thing that
has learnt to speak. We who are working in the U.S.S.R.
are fully conscious that our technical resources are not such
as to enable us in the near future to achieve a practical success
in this direction. For the rest, we judge it not inopportune
to enumerate a number of preliminary considerations of a
theoretical nature, the more so that, judging from the informa-
tion that has reached us, attempts are being made to put this
new perfection of the cinematographic art to a mistaken use.

A misconception of the possibilities of this new technical
discovery may not only hamper the work of developing and
perfecting cinematography as an art, but also threatens to
ruin its present actual achievements.

Contemporary cinematography, operating as it does by
means of visual images, produces a powerful impression on
the spectator, and has earned for itself a place in the front
rank of the arts.

CLOSE UP

As we know, the fundamental (and only) means, by which
cinematography has been able to attain such a high degree of
effectiveness, is the mounting (or cutting).

The improvement of the mounting, as the principal means
for producing an effect, \vas the undisputed axiom on which
was based the development of cinematography all over the
world.

The world-wide success of Soviet films was largely due to a
number of mounting-devices, which they were the first to
discover and develop.

1. Therefore, for the further development of cinemato-
graphy, the only important factors are those calculated to
reinforce and develop these mounting-contrivances for
producing an effect on the spectator.

Flxamining each new discovery from this point of view% it is
easy to demonstrate the trivial significance of coloured and
stereoscopic cinematography, as compared with the huge
significance of sound,

2. The sound film is a two-edged invention, and it is most
probable that it will be utilised along the line of least resis-
tance, that is to say, the line of satisfying simple curiosity.

In the first place, there will be the commercial exploitation
of the most saleable goods, i.e., of speaking films — of those
in which the record of the sound will coincide in the most
exact and realistic manner with the movement on the screen,
and will convey the illusion of people speaking, of the
sound of objects and so on.

This first period of sensations will not prejudice the
development of the new art, but there will be a terrible second
period, w^hich will come with the fading of the first realisation

CLOSE UP

of new practical possibilities, and in its place established an
epoch of automatic utilisation for high cultural dramas
and other photographic performances of a theatrical nature.

Utilised in this way, sound will destroy the art of mounting.

For every addition of sound to portions of the mounting
will intensify the portions as such and exaggerate their in-
dependent significance, and this will unquestionably be to
the detriment of the mounting, which produces its effect not
by pieces, but, above all, by the conjunction of pieces.

3. Only utilisation of sound in counterpoint relation to the
piece of visual mounting affords new possibilities of develop-
ing and perfecting the mounting.

The first experiments with sound must be directed towards
its pronounced non-coincidence with the visual images.

This method of attack only will produce the requisite
sensation, which will lead in course of time to the creation
of a new orchestral counterpoint of sight-images and sound-
images.

4. The new technical discovery is not a chance factor in the
history of the film, but a natural outlet for the advance guard
of cinematographic culture, by which they may escape from a
number of seemingly hopeless blind alleys.

The first blind alley is the film text, and the countless
attempts to include it in the scenic composition as a piece of
mounting (breaking up of the text into parts, increasing or
decreasing of the size of the type, etc.).

The second blind alley is the explanatory items, which
overload the scenic composition and retard the tempo.

Every day the problems connected with theme and subject
are becoming more and more complicated. Attempts to solve

CLOSE UP

them by visual scenic devices alone have the result either
that the problems remain unsolved, or that the manager is
seduced into employing over-fantastic scenic effects, which
lead one to fear a reactionary decadence.

Sound, treated as a new element of the mounting (as an
item independent of the visual image), will inevitably intro-
duce a new and enormously effective means for expressing
and solving the complex problems with which we have been
troubled, owing to the impossibility of solving them by the
aid of cinematography operating with visual images alone.

5. T/i^ contrapuntal method of constructing the talking film
not only will not detract from the international character of
cinematography, but will enhance its significance and its
cultural power to a degree unexperienced hitherto.

Applying this method of construction, the film will not be
confined within any national market, as is the case with the
theatre dramas, and will be the case with the filmed
theatre dramas, but there will be an even greater possibility
than before of circulating throughout the world those ideas
capable of expression through the film, and the universal
hiring of films will still be practicable.

S. M. ElSENSTEIN.
W. I. PUDOWKIN.

G. V. Alexandroff.

CLOSE UP

THE EUROPEAN KINO-CONGRESS

Berlin. Mid-Sept.

Since this is my first letter to Close Up, merely to sign it
with my name seems insufficient without some kind of pre-
liminary introduction. I do not mean passport personalia.
Such things are unimportant. What matters in this instance
is my creed : what I believe in regard to the Film. First of
all, I believe that its present situation is by no means per-
manent. It would be tragic if it were. For we are in a blind
alley, a dark and airless labyrinth. The commercial
production of films, unless its methods are changed, is on its
last legs. It is now demonstrably clear that the Film is an
art-form whose every connection with industry requires
restriction. It is also obvious that the growth of the amateur
movement indicates fresh departures. Yet much remains
hypothetical. Dreams may be beautiful — and useless. If
we would be on firm ground we must bring our dreams to the
test of reality. The Film is primarily a trade product. With
this condition it is possible to make terms only if we can
transform a trade product into a work of art. But trade is an
unaspiring chafferer.

Why is this so ? The public, the masses, are, it is said, to
blame. That social relationships are primitive, administra-
tion corrupt and the form of government out-worn, is

CLOSE UP

ultimately the fault of the public. For the public at large is not
an enduring, homogeneous structure possessing a single will
and the power of imposing it. The public is a conglomerate
of unorganised feelings, thoughts and expressions. One here
and there scoffs quietly at unjust taxation, or at conspicuously
inferior films. In time the public either grows used to such
impositions or, if things become unendurable, makes a sudden
loud outcry. Perhaps even a revolution. Palaces are
destroyed. Picture-palaces are as empty as their tills, unless
there is a timely concession from above. Yet both monarchs
and exploiters seem to learn but little from popular outcries.
The loyalty of those called upon to negotiate is too timid and
accomodating to look beneath surfaces and demand from those
in power that they shall bestir themselves. Taxes come in,
what do we want with reforms asks officialdom, rubbing its
hands. Cinemas are full, why ask for different films, says
the theatre-owner. A was a success. We can repeat it
again and again. What has stood the test is a certainty.
Experiment spells uncertainty. A century ago the railway
was an experiment. Twenty years ago, the air-plane. To-day
the exploiter regards a new idea, a new appliance, a new actor,
as an experiment; and refuses to try it.

I believe that the aimlessness and pettiness of the trade
houses is the primary restriction of cinematography. This I
wish to make clear in order that you may know my attitude
in reporting upon the doings of the International Congress
recently held in Berlin.

The Congress was well attended. Seventeen nations sent
delegates. The British section comprised over a hundred
representatives. In the Berlin Chamber of Commerce and the

CLOSE UP

Prussian Parliament noteworthy sittings were held. In the
decorated apartments of the Zoo and the KroU Opera-house —
Berlin's leading centres for large social gatherings — repre-
sentative gala evenings were held. There were motor and
steam-boat excursions to all the principal places of interest in
and near the capital. Half a day was spent in the Ufa studios
at Neu-Babelsburg. Proceedings terminated with a festival
in Luna Park.

In the midst of such festivities, so much organisation, so
many applauded speeches, it was not easy to remain unmoved.
Enthusiasm is infectious. When between whiles one heard a
few reasonable words, one was apt to imagine that reasonable
activities were actually afoot. But from the summoning of a
Congress to its results is a long step. Between its decisions
and their operation lies a wide highway that is sometimes also
an endless one.

You have perhaps heard what has become of the resolutions
passed by the Paris Congress in 1926 ? Amongst these were
some quite useful suggestions, requiring only to be carried
into effect. By the national unions, perhaps, or by individual
governments, in any case by the then existing associations.
In 1926 nothing was done. In 1928, we are assured, it is to
be otherwise. And in order that an executive body should be
available the International Federation of Cinema-owners was
brought into being. So we have yet another association.

Its founding was contrived without undue complications.
With the help of the previously prepared French scheme,
provisional statutes were formulated. The presidency and
bureau-work were given over to the Imperial Union of German

From Haas-Push [Beggays] an Armenkmo production. This is an
historical fihn, and depicts the suppression of the Armenian people
The director is A. Beck-Xasaroff.

Between shots. At work on The General Line. 1, S. M. Eisenstein •
2, E Tisse (cameraman) ; 3, G. Alexandroff. The film reveals the
great efforts that are being made to develop a united industry

Anna Sten in The Son {Das Kind des Andevn), a Sovkino film for
Derussa, directed by E. Tscherwjakov.

Gennadi] Mitschurin in The Son.

The child in The Peasant Women of Riazanj. Perhaps the most
striking of all the examples of child direction in which the Russians
contrive such marvellous effects.

Two Days {Zwei Tage). S. A. Mmm as the Bolshevik son of the
old caretaker. A Wufku film directed by George Stabavoj.

'. E. Samytschkowskij as the caretaker in Two Days. One of the
classic triumphs of screen characterisation.

S. A. Minin as the son, with his wife in their home, from which he
win shortly be seized by the mihtary.

The young master in Two Days is a remarkable study of cowardice
and stupidity. A photograph of the director is elsewhere in this issue.

CLOSE UP

Cinema-owners. We must not be immediately pessimistic.
We are aware of the difficulties of this kind of enterprise, and
the possibility of its furtherance need not be disputed. If
to-morrow% or in three months, or in two years the Federation
is ready, its first concern should be the consideration of the
fifteen proposals already put forward by the French Cinema-
owners. The first of these is directed against the entertain-
ment tax; the second deprecates instigatory films ; the third
demands the naming of the country of origin ; the fourth
would penalise author's rights ; the fifth declares the over-long
film to be a failure ; the sixth protests against blind booking ;
the seventh and eighth recommend a loaning organisation as
between cinema and cinema ; the ninth questions the demands
of the film-makers ; the tenth is against communal under-
takings; the eleventh calls for the standardisation of technical
apparatus; the twelfth aims at abolishing scandals from the
incidental circumstances of the film industry; the thirteenth
expresses the opinion that the film in its character of
specialised art-form needs special legislation ; the fourteenth
pleads for social adjustments ; the fifteenth contains the germ
of an international organisation such as is now in process of
construction.

A rich choice of debateable propositions, for the consider-
ation of which there will be ample time before they can be
translated into actuality. Meantime they are worthy of
interest if only on account of the spirit inspiring them, the
language in which they are couched, the ideals to which they
appeal. What emerges most clearly is a recognition of the
Film as material for Culture. Its educational, scientific and
artistic value is insisted upon. The splendid principles

CLOSE UP

actuating producers, agents and exhibitors are proudly
enumerated. In such terms might any match-seller interpret
his relationship to the world. He, also, is a social worker,
conscious of his role ; never for a moment forgetting that he
toils for the future of humanity. I prefer, for their superior
honesty, the methods of the Americans, who do at least
frankly confess that they are out to make money.

Our phrases, lavishly spread with a pomade of idealism,
are for high days and holidays. On other occasions a more
careless diction is usual. From Monday to Saturday, in the
director's room, the studio, copying-rooms and box-offices,
we are well aware that the film is an article of commerce
taking toll of the ambitions of each individual concerned.
The intricacies of single intelligences won't pay. Ration-
alised manufacture, team work, leading-strings, a good line,
these are what we want : detective stories of the day before
yesterday, yesterday's historical pageant, to-day's tear-soaked
war-romance, possibly to-morrow's new racial embroilings.
The days of a Congress are all Sundays. Congressional
speech all pulpit eloquence. By this we can be moved as by
good organ music. But on week-days cars are hooting,
factory whistles shrieking, steam-hammers droning.

The assembled delegates of the first International Con-
gress of Cinema-owners, representing the owners' organisa-
tions of Belgium, Germany, England, Finland, France,
India, Yugo-Slavia, the Netherlands, Austria, Poland,
Rumania, Sweden, Switzerland, Spain, Tcheko-Slovakia,
Turkey and Hungary, hereby resolve that no more films shall
be exhibited that defame any nation or may be considered as
calculated to wound national susceptibilities. The delegates

CLOSE UP

are aware of the immense possibilities of influencing the
masses by means of the film and of the responsibilities hereby
resting upon themselves, and have passed this resolution in
the interest of the furtherance of international good under-
standing/' Here, also, we have a beautiful sermon.

Upon years of grim deeds there inevitably follows a reaction
in the form of fine words. At every turn one meets well-
meaning speech ; at diplomatic gatherings, in open tribunals,
at Congresses. During this meeting of Cinema-owners
urbanity played many parts : the words internationalism,
Europe, peace, Locarno, friendship, brotherhood, humanity,
echoed harmoniously about and called forth enthusiastic
applause. The gusto and spontaneity of these demonstra-
tions inevitably recalls similar activities of hand and throat in
times of national conflagration — but the national are the more
accountable. Nationalism rests upon the status quo and can
therefore rely with certainty upon appeals to the feelings.
Internationalism picks its way amidst forecasts of ideas upon
relationships still to be established, and calls, therefore, for
the more delicate adjustments of thought. But even if one
could conceive as possible a carrying over of these earnest
proclamations into kindred activities, one would be committed
to sceptical reservations by the mentality of these film-
internationalists, a mentality whose primitive arbitrariness
and accommodating commercially is self-evident. The official
resolution of the French section demands : (a) That any
scenario calculated to engender or to support international
hostility, or to promote militarism, shall be rejected; (h) such
character parts as tend to degrade or to ridicule any nation,
or any foreign personality, to be avoided ; (c) the beauties of

CLOSE UP

other countries, the special distinctions of their peoples and
the merits of their great men to be given prominence ; (d) the
historical accuracy of material selected from life to be safe-
guarded and, in the interest of avoiding any wounding of
national feelings, such material so to be treated as not to
evince a deliberate ' tendency ' . . Yes, yes, yes,"

one stammers, good, beautiful, admirable, but — how is it to
be done?" Fine representations, no wounding of national
susceptibilities, no ' tendency ' ? In other words, we will
pledge ourselves to undeviating objectivity, to the suppression
of all feeling, all personal will. We will behave like angels
rather than like men ! Yet, unless I am mistaken, art is a
human and not an angelic affair : the expression of human
characteristics, human passions, human aspirations.

The Biblical love thy neighbour " cannot be interpreted
to mean that we shall perceive nothing but his virtues.
Account must be taken also of those he fancies he possesses.
We must recognise the virtues of others, but also their defects.
Occasionally these are variants of our own. Not for a moment
does he who reaps nothing but praise credit the sincerity of
the panegyric. Such things are useless alike to individuals,
nations and races. We must be free to say what we believe
we know about others, to express what and how we see. Light
is revealed only by shadow. We want to see films that are
more than polite formalities, films that speak without crippling
restrictions.

Polite formalities are apt to be not merely false, but tedious.
There is something to be said for a temperamental lie. For a
tedious lie, nothing. I am obliged to compare the unimagin-

CLOSE UP

ative quality of the commerce-constricted internationalism of
the film industry with large-scale hotel catering. It will be
understood that I like between whiles to sample the products
of France, America, China. But indifferent menus I cannot
tolerate. Who carefully offends no palate will also arouse
none. The film that falls foul of nothing, has no rough
edges, no sharp corners, will leave no impression. A com-
munal production, with an Austrian operetta libretto, worked
over by a Hungarian dramatist, built by a French architect,
photographed by an Italian camera-man, cut by a German
director, acted by players from Russia, Sweden and Honolulu,
and traded by an American agency, might w^ell result in a
most ingenious and only too easily digested salad. But one
would not be aware of having eaten anything. Personally, I
would prefer a dish that shocks the stomach and gives it some-
thing to do. The peculiar flavour of such a dish is remem-
bered for a considerable time. Thus I am still aware that
The Covered Waggon, by James Cruse, was an American
film; La Roue, by Abel Gance, a French film; Erotikon, by
Maurice Stiller, a Sw^edish ; Potemkin, by S. M. Eisenstein, a
Russian ; and Die Geheimnisse Einer Seele, by G. W. Pabst,
a German. And if to-morrow a film appears that is as
English, or Japanese, or Indian, as these were American,
French, Swedish, Russian and German, it will find me ready
to acclaim it. I shall cherish, and may love it; even though
my racial, national and personal susceptibilities be, in either
or in each, severely sacrificed. But poems in Esperanto I
refuse to read. And I doubt that either Baudelaire, Byron or
Schiller could have been persuaded to write in any language
so circumscribed.

CLOSE UP

I have not nearly reached the end of my thoughts upon the
theme suggested by the First International Congress of
Cinema-owners. But this merely outwardly interesting
occasion seems to me otherwise too trivial to merit a thorough-
going discussion of the questions raised. I have preferred,
therefore, to restrict myself to pleasant gossip. Just as, in
agreeable, cultivated society, one delivers oneself, upon
matters that are perhaps actually very important, sincerely,
but not without prudent circumspection ; until the parties are
known to one another. At a second meeting one will perhaps
find it possible to be more communicative.

AxDOR Krazsna Kransz.

SIX RUSSIAN FILMS

(Continued)
Pits {Die FaUgriihen des Lehens).
Mechanics of the Brain.

Pits.

SovKixo Film, directed by Alexander Room.

A more ambitious and less successful film than Bed and
Sofa, Pits is nevertheless remarkable for its frequent heights
and depths of beauty and truth. The theme is the dis-

CLOSE UP

integrating influence of haphazard childbearing and hap-
hazard method of upbringing, set in contrast to organised
arrangement and organised education. One feels that the
director was so carried away with the greatness of his theme
that it got beyond his control. He does, however, make his
points with great power and sincerity, and Pits is a film with
the deepest significance, weakened mainly by a certain
theatricality in some of its later passages, and very often by
guttering arc light.

Apart from anything else, the extraordinary beauty of the
scenes taken in the glass foundries is more than enough to win
our deepest admiration.

The story opens with two young people, both workers in
the foundry, in love with each other, and planning to be
married. A bright vibration of energy and happiness keeps
the first scenes sustained at a high l\Tic pitch, so that when the
happy young wife, engaging in the after-hours sports, has
to refuse a high jump, and know^s there is to be a child, the
swift chill of the husband's stricken disappointment has a
superb technical dramatic power. The young wife, shaken
by first knowledge, stands by the rope swaying. Another
young girl, symbolic of so many things, freedom, strength,
independence, takes the jump she has had to refuse and goes
past with a glance of triumph — and vindictiveness at the wife.
The young couple walk by the water where they first made
love, both somewhat aghast and both bitterly unhappy. " It
will end our freedom '\ the husband cries. Room makes no
bones about the problem. It is an unfortunate thing for them
both, and her first conventional reaction of joy soon turns to
the natural reaction of fear and unhappiness.

CLOSE UP

How well it is shown here that just one moment can shatter
lives. The young pair sit brooding and silent in their room.
Plere, virtually, is the end of their happiness. Nothing much
has shown it to be so, yet Room's great gift for psychology
does allow him to succeed in showing us that something has
snapped here ; some root that was growing from freedom and
carefree youth has been unearthed and will wither. These,
the most subtle and distinguished of his points, are all
superbly shown, and not overstressed. But his more obvious
points are pummelled and rammed at you until you have to
reject them. They acquire theatricality, they become strident
and unreal. I refer here primarily to the incident at the end,
where the young wife, taking a part in the Workers' Theatre,
forgets her part, and turns round to scream a long, withering-
tirade at her neglectful husband. Even this might have been
alright if she had been great in herself, as, say, Baranowskaja
is great, but unfortunately she was not a great or even a good
actress, and this over-dramatic moment, which consummate
artistry could have turned into something plausible, and even
oveiwhelming, was pure bathos.

The child arrives, and during the time which has elapsed,
the husband has begun to fall into bad habits. He drinks
heavily, and begins to earn for himself a bad reputation at the
Foundry. Here business is not prospering, and some of the
hands are discharged. The first to go are the married
women, so his wife is among them. The blow^ is heavy, and
again its undermining effect is shown by the subtlety of noth-
ing much happening, but a faint emphasis for those w^ho not
only see but watch, on the disintegration of the little home.
You might at least change your apron the husband

CLOSE UP

says. He is right. The room is dirty, untidy, littered — a
slum. You can see his viewpoint, as you can see hers. Un-
happiness has blighted her sapped life. Apathy and sadness
have, as it were, crippled the girl. A little spirit or courage
would have been her salvation — the salvation of everything.
The crumbling of their love, due to small, sordid disillusion-
ments, as a piece of insight and compassion, is extremely
beautiful.

The League of Youth takes up her case. The husband has
left her and gone to live with another woman — the same girl
that took the high jump at the beginning of the trouble.
Baranowskaja, as the matron of a children's nursery school,
calls upon her in her dark and dirty little room. And now
we are given some excellent and convincing contrasts of
children raised under organised scientific control. The
young wife is rescued from the depths of despair, is given
work, her child is taken by the home, under the kindly minis-
tration of the matron, where she can see it every day after
work, and she is greeted again by the League of Youth and
persuaded to go on with her former work with them in the
Workers' Theatre. In the meantime the husband has found
his relationship with the other girl even more sordid, and left
her. The story w^orks its way to the evening of the perform-
ance in the theatre, w^here, of course, the husband is among
the audience. His wife sees him, and stricken in the middle
of her part, abandons it and denounces him. He leaves and
is distraught.

His work has become so bad at the factory that he is likely
to be dismissed. He has heard that his wife has a post in the
new factory, and asks for a transfer. Baranowskaja is in-

CLOSE UP

strumental in securing this for him, and on the boat he takes
his seat in the wind beside his wife. A new Hfe is before
them.

Pits is a great and a completely uneven film. The first
scenes were admirable, the conception was admirable, some-
times the execution was admirable. One could expect no less
from the maker of Bed and Sofa. My ow^n personal impres-
sion was that the maker of Bed and Sofa had listened to those
who had said he was utterly devoid of technique, and had
tried to prove that he wasn't. Some of the results were so
awful (technically) that those people will be able to say I
told you so Whereas Bed and Sofa, by its very staccato
cutting, its swift, impressionistic piling of image on image
was an individual thing, and vibrant with its individualism,
Pits is apt to lose this very quality here and there, and become
the imitation of the imitation of a method. It is not so utterly
and explicitly Room, as was Bed and Sofa, and as was The
Death Ship. It has lost some fire, and one is not made to feel
that it is Room's fire that is lost, for it is there. But the flame
gutters in draughts from Germany, from America and France.
It is an unsettled, hurried, and palpitant thing. Utterly
alive, and deft as a bird, but like a frightened or bewildered
bird, beating upon itself. The story is involved and full of
nuances. Such a story needs slow, cold, critical balancing.
Pits is not balanced. There is too much of some scenes and
too little of others. It jerks, halts and stumbles, but it gets
there just the same

K. M.

CLOSE UP

Mechanics of the Brain.

This film has been made by Pudowkin in collaboration with
Professor Pavlov, upon Pavlov's experiments on the
conditioned reflexes.

It is Pudowkin's second film, and (Close Up was informed)
no copy exists outside Russia except for one in Berlin w^ith
Russian sub-titles only.

Professor Pavlov's researches into the physiology of the
brain have been familiar to doctors and students throughout
Europe for over a quarter of a century. A translation of his
book Conditional Reflexes was published in 1927 by the
Oxford University Press, price 28s. For those who find it
hard to reconcile his achievements with an apparent disregard
of modern discoveries in psychology, the excellent review of
Conditional Reflexes by Dr. Ernest Jones, in the July issue
of the International Journal of Psycho-Analysis is to be
commended.*

The film itself has been shown throughout Russia in large
towns and out-of-the-way villages, at prices varying from one
penny to sixpence a head, as part of an educational pro-
gramme to make modern scientific research a part of
everyone^s knowledge.

It begins with scenes of animals in a zoo. These are
followed by views of boys bathing and by some experiments
upon a frog.

* The clearest, most concise account has been given by Dr. Gantt in
the British Medical Journal for July llth^ 1927.

CLOSE UP

The next reel shows the well-known experiments upon dogs.
Food in a dog's mouth is naturally productive of saliva ; an
unconditioned reflex. But from long continued association,
the mere sight of the food will produce of itself saliva and
therefore a conditioned reflex.

It is easy to watch this in the film. An artificial opening
is made " in the salivary duct from the paratid gland and a
glass balloon is fixed to the opening connected by tubes with
a recording instrument in another room. The dog is shown
eating and the glass balloon fills with saliva. Further shots
show it filling when the dog is merely shown food and before
it reaches the mouth. Then another experiment was pre-
sented in which a metronome was started at a hundred beats
and just after the hundred the dog was fed. After this had
been repeated a number of limes the dog began to secrete
saliva at the start of the metronome. But if a metronome of
fifty beats a minute is started and no food is given and this is
repeated a number of times, the dog produces less and less
saliva at each repetition and a negative conditioned stimulus
has arisen.

Further experiments were shown with monkeys. A bell
rings or at a certain metronome beat a blue plate is pushed
within the monkey's reach with food. As soon as the monkey
hears the accustomed sound, its ears prick and it climbs hur-
riedly down towards the expected morsel. But if another
sequence of beats be used or a red plate the monkey remains
on his perch, totally uninterested.

Pavlov claims that these experiments are doing much to
discover the nature of sleep, and even of neurasthenia, and
that he is able to produce both in his dogs by giving them too

CLOSE UP

difficult problems to solve. He has stated also that there will
be no absolute freedom of the will, in his opinion, until the
physiology of the brain be understood. Krasnogorsky, a
pupil, has (according to Dr. Guest's report) suggested that
the experiments upon children should be used as a basis for
child education.

The next reel showed an experiment for forming a con-
ditioned reflex in a child. The child lay happily and easily
on a table unable to see the operator concealed in another
room. A funnel was suspended above his mouth. There
was a band round his arm. The experimentor pressed a bulb
which caused a slight friction against the skin on the arm
and at the same moment a sweet dropped into the child's
mouth. This was repeated several times, to the child's
obvious satisfaction. Finally the experimentor pressed the
bulb that caused the friction, but no sweet dropped, though
the child's eyes were fixed on the funnel. After a few attempts
the child did not attempt to respond to the signal but stared
round the room, for even at so early an age it uses its mind
and an automatic reflex is far less easily accomplished. It is
said that children develop reflexes more easily than animals,
retain them longer without practice, but they are also liable
to be destroyed more quickly.

The next pictures showed idiots, a person in an advanced
state of syphilis, etc. It is said that the idiot's brain was no
more developed than that of the fish. It was certainly most
remarkable to notice the resemblance in the snatching of food
between these types and those of the less intelligent animals.

But the greatest part of the film is the final section. This
began with the close up of a woman's face during childbirth.

CLOSE UP

It was fear complete in a single face ; more full of pain and
terror and helplessness than anything ever written or
imagined. It is not generally realised that (perhaps because
of sexual taboos and inhibitions) progress in painless child-
birth has been neglected and research in these matters has not
kept pace with modern medical development. Perhaps
Russia, with these pictures and with these great efforts to
educate along constructive lines, will produce some scientists
able to investigate the subject.

After the short flashes of the woman's face, a baby is shown
and the normal development to be expected of infants at dif-
ferent ages from three months up to six years. Particularly
the shots of the children washing themselves seemed most
constructive. The average adult has seldom any idea of what
is the norm of performance to be expected from a child aged
one or two or three. And in villages remote from educational
centres these pictures ought to be most valuable — in England
as well as in Russia.

The picture ended with a group of children desiring a to\'
on a high shelf. One fetched a chair, another stood on it and
finally reached it down ; the beginning of the reasoning power
of the brain.

It is very difficult to give in words the effect of this film.
Things that seemed so clear in the pictures seem diffuse,
almost confused put into sentences. Its value for students is
immense, and yet it is so simple that anyone (having the sub-
titles in their own language) could follow it. Seeing the
importance of the brain, it is strange that there has been as
yet no proposal to show the film in England. Surely this
could be admitted as a scientific film free of duty, for in the

CLOSE UP

world of research and medicine
barriers.

at least there ought to be no
Bryher.

Next Month :
The Son
Zvenigora

FILM IMAGERY: PUDOWKIN

Duty, and a certain unrest whenever I have not been to a
movie, have sent me recently to a number of ordinary films,
the current London releases — Four Sons, The Trail of '98 ( !),
Street Angel — you know. And what I feel most in them, the
only thing I feel, is what isn't there. The one-sidedness, the
something missing. Yes — BUT." No one has breathed
on the bones, they've just painted them. These are just
stories acted, concoctions, confections. NOT conceptions.

There is always interest in seeing how the screen, the square
sheet, is filled, in the jeu des blancs et noirs (though one
should not write French). One can never quite get over the
thrill of the dark seats, with other people sitting there, and
then one's self, and then light bringing all these other others

CLOSE UP

moving, not actual at all, but because of their patterns and
speeds, so oddly real, so much odder than the lady breathing
through her nose on our left, so much realer than the hat
underneath, which is ours, and the feet denting it, ours also.
But all the time, in these ordinary cinemas, as I sit quietly
there, I am deafened by myself insisting that there should be,
there must be, indeed there IS, for I have seen it, something
more. And I have seen it in the work of Pudowkin.

You see, it is all verv well takino- a storv and filming" it,
neatly photographing just the scenes that are called for,
getting the actors to go through their parts. But neither life
nor anything else is a matter of one neat story, with scenes
that have meaning in that and in no other story, and we, in
all the stories that we cause or are drawn into, are aware at the
same time of all the other stories we have, so to speak, using
the cant phrase, lived. There are, in fact, echoes, undertones,
ripples and layers. There are associations, which become
symbols. There are images. Things mean this, things
mean that, when do they mean which, and why? There is,
again in fact, very strict fact, a world outside and a world
inside. I get neither of these from the ordinary films.
Naturally ; they are Entertainment. But then, I HA\^E —
from Pudowkin. And, to forestall any argument, Eisen-
stein is greater " from the others.

You cannot take a storv and close it off from the world,
either world. Even if vou make it an Epitome of All Human
Experience, when it just becomes one big, vague symbol
itself, of not sure what. And you cannot make an ordinary,
limited little story symbolical of The World Outside, the
Bigger Things, by giving it pretentious sub-titles. " The

CLOSE UP

Hounds of War Were Unleashed A Song of Two

Humans " — all that.

But you can take Mother, and consider it. Consider it,
because I went down to ^Munich to see it, and I saw it twice,
after I had seen all the other ones that have been written about
in Close Up, so it means more to me. Pudowkin, " with the
Russian feeling for landscape " (as I have written till I long
to review myself scathingly), has put in there several shots of
the countryside which are not directly connected with the plot,
using " directly " in its good old English sense of " super-
ficially Good film isn't. Good film does not concern a
few people acting out their story in a script as confined as a
railway carriage, while the scenery rolls by, painted on rollers,
outside. The scenery isn't scenery. It is as integral as they.
You can't, even in a bad film, take the landscape and say " be
good, be a background ", and in a good film, actors and
background merge, are symbols meeting to form expression of
what they are both manifestations of. Life.

To be severely practical, these shots at the beginning of
Mother give one the life these people lead. Naturally. But
they give it mentally as well as in the more obvious sense,
and how often do we get THAT? The trees and the pool,
seen lovingly from many angles, and the mist rising from it,
have their effect. This is one of the things we think we must
carry, one of the perceptions, locked up, blocking the way,
till we die. Pudowkin gives it us. Lets us in. Later, just
before the strikers meet in the dell, there are some more of
these scenes. To be strict, there are more of them than are
needed. Just that one, when Bataleft' comes on the skyline,
after one has waited (as his friends have waited — mark that),

CLOSE UP

would be enough. For the story. Not for what Pudowkin
is after, and is getting.

How those shots give the feel of the morning ! Expectancy,
and the slight discomfort of being up, dawn going on as
usual — but for these men and this girl, not the same day going
on as usual. And then, these shots take their place as the last
openness, the last of the old peace that, after all, the old
tyranny they are fighting can't destroy. The curling mist,
for a few shots, then spitting Cossack smoke. The plot goes
on, the strike begins, chase, search and arrest. Bataleff is in
prison. Life goes on, too, and here Pudowkin chooses to put
some more scenes. The trees again, the same trees, having
spring. Life opening up, something happening. Bataleff
is tip-toe at his window. The ice on the river is breaking.
What a comment ! Heaving, crushing, smashing against
itself, in the effort not to be broken, and underneath, the river,
thinking it is releasing itself, but really being released by
something outside itself. Then, is not this so superb ? just as
we are beginning to take the repeated ice-shots as decoration,
as imagery pure and simple, Pudowkin draws this theme in
and uses it. Bataleff, escaped from prison, pursued, thinks
— what WOL^LD come up then ? The river ! The river (he
thinks) would be breaking. He knows this because it is his
life. We, who have not shared that life till the film began,
know it because of Pudowkin's imagery. We are in Bataleff's
mind with him. If he could get on the ice, he could push off,
float, there would be black water between him and the soldiers.
The river swims up into his consciousness. That is what I
mean. There is another film in which a hero leaps across the
ice, a thing called Love's Crucifixion, but the ice and the leap

CLOSE UP

mean nothing. They are properties. But with Bataleff it is
not just a matter of chase and escape. He IS being chased
and he DOES escape, but he THINKS of the river, and the
fact that it is spring, because there are things he knows, the
world within serves the world without as it presses on him.
And we get both.

So all this imagery has not been just decoration, so many
epithets. It has been a theme, a decorative theme, dehberately
blended to serve its use. That is where its beauty comes in.
Ice and trees and pretty scenes, so boring when flung into a
lilm as in Love's Crucifixion^ have use, are beautiful. We
are not cheated, and asked to admire something static. And,
incidentally, in passing, to air a bee of my own, anything
static, persistently so, as a string of decoration must be, is not
film. Film is not garlands, however well made, but branches,
buds growing to leaf, blossom, fruit. Going on, not swing-
ing lifelessly in externally applied winds. This kind of
imagery abounds in Russian films. It makes them up. Each
is linked to something, not taken out, uprooted and held for
exhibition. There is a puppy in Two Days, there are the river-
wreaths in Dorf der SUnde, Kerenskv mounting the stairs in
Ten Days. Potemkin, that film that ahvays seems to have
been talked to death until one sees it again, opens with some
shots of the sea that have the same relation to the film as the
landscape ones in Mother, but such imagery is more native to
Pudowkin than to Eisenstein, of whom, as I hope to write on
him later, I will only say now that he works on the epic, not the
lyric, scale, and the other scenes that are symbolical in
Potemkin — the flapping of the tent, the twirling of the
parasols, the gathering crowds, the putting out of the sailing

CLOSE UP

ships — are symbolical because of the circumstances in which
they find themselves. They are drama heightened to imagery,
not imagery that heightens to drama. And these are to be
found in Pudowkin, too. There is that girl (herself a symbol)
taking the men's coats, there is the very angle from which the
factory gate is shot, there are Baranowskaja's potatoes in
St. Petersburg. All these are dramatic rather than psycho-
logical, and it is psychological imagery that is chiefly
Pudowkin's. There is a great difference between the wreck-
ing of the statue in Ten Days and the sinister shots of the
guns decked with cruel, feminine flowers that is Pudowkin's
comment on others' comment on war, in St. Petersburg. In
that same film, when the two come looking for work, in the
town, they come to (I believe the Palace of Justice, but it does
not matter) a big aweing pillared building. This sequence is
amazing. It shows how even old tricks can be given their
right use at last. It shows that last, among other things,
many other things. This is what happens. They reach it.
Rows of pillars. Which dissolve into one. One vast pillar,
then its vaster base. They, we, the brain of all of us, travel
up to the figure at the top. Then, quickly cutting, we are
watching them from the top, seeing them as what the figure
personifies sees them, small creatures crawling about among
tall buildings, hopelessly unimportant, but, by their failure
to fit in, disturbing. Think what this means. Instead of
insisting on quantity of pillars, as others would do, Pudowkin
stresses the quality of PILLAR. Then, by a swift transition,
having got in our minds what is in theirs, he shows how their
minds affect that of justice. By camera angle and cutting.
It is needless at this date to say that half the magic of his

CLOSE UP

imagery is in successive images and depends on cutting.
This is the film that one of the American publicity-fan
magazines dismisses as St. Petersburg destroyed by trick
camera angles

But it is the ice in Mother that I would insist on, for it is an
instance most easily understandable to those who have not
seen the film, and it shows what I w^ould emphasise, the bring-
ing of the mind's workings as definite factors to be reckoned
with into pla}^, the curious tangible fluid workings are
recognised as something that can be interpreted in themselves,
not through the actions they cause.

Life — I mean realised, analysed, lived life — consists of the
actual world with our own superimposed, actual living with
our own reactions to that superimposed. And though the
actual world is the foundation, and the real world finds fulfil-
ment in terms of it, those terms are transformed in the process.
Things mean this, things mean that. There is something more.
You do not give the real world by using simply the sketchy
symbols of the actual. Shells are shells to one race; so they
are to another, but because of that they are also money to it.
Layer on layer, often transparent but not always interchange-
able, and you don't reach the crystal ones on top simply by
reproducing the bottom one. What is missing from ordinary
films, what isn't in Four Sons and is in Mother, what isn't,
by a long shot, in The Last Command and is in The End of
St, Petersburg, is this world we make of the world we know,
the world that means among all the world that is. And
Pudowkin's use of imagery, implicit in all good Russian
films, but explicit in his, gives us a world compounded in just
proportion of the two.

CLOSE UP

The imagery by which he attains this is different from
superimposing the actual causes of a state of mind, as with
the sheep and the clock and the chair in White Gold. It is
different from what Pick did with waves in New Year's Eve
and from what has been done by Lubitsch, whom also I want
to consider. These are the world without and to be gratefully
received. They show us the knocking at the mind's door.
Pudowkin lets us in. The force of apparently decorative
scenes and flashes in one of his films comes from within. The
creaking chair is a rational symbol of GoudaFs irritation.
Pudowkin would give us the psychological symbol, and the
two are not the same.

Think what this means. If all the extraordinary tunnels
down which the mind travels, like a monkey, with an exper-
ience, leaping from branch to branch, if all the leaves can be
lifted up, disclosing the vista beyond, as well as the casual
fruit beneath ; if all the events we bring to an event and barter
for it and weigh against it, shall we or not respond, and if we
do, enrich it with ; if all this can be given — and Pudowkin is
only at the beginning — what can we expect ? vShall we be
starved any more? Irritated, dissatisfied, twisted, putting up
with old perfunctory symbols any more ? Putting up with
stories that don't fit life as w^e know it, and because we never
see that life almost think we are the only ones that do know it,
trying therefore to fit it in with those old symbols of I love
you, you love me, so both are happy, like a foot into a too-
small shoe because, after all, it must have SOME protection?

Surely this, to be rational, gives us a world that is not
one-sided (and every kind of world is round), a world we
know, not a world we are surprised others seem to think they

CLOSE UP

are getting adequate expression of when they pay five-and-
nine to stand at The Gaiicho or eight-and-six to see ^Ir. and
Mrs. Johnson being shot far more often than the
simbas in their long news-gazette.

Robert Herring.

DISCONNECTED THOUGHTS ON
MUSIC AND THE CINEMA

By Oswell Blakeston

How they give themselves away I You or I reallv ou^-ht
to walk into their studios and demand the right to produce a
film: for they hold their positions on the understanding that
they have a sense of the screen — and in film after film thev
feature a jazz band I What could be less filmable? Take a
blind man to the Leicester Galleries, a deaf one to the Wig-
more Hall, no less inane than proudly shown close-ups of
fashionable syncopators. Jazz is filmable, but not jazz bands.
Neither is tearful superimposition of several instruments the
only way of conveying the dynamic force of negro vitalitv.

A film without its jazz band, its cabaret (and the heroine
breaking her heart amidst the paper streamers^ would surely
be accused by the trade papers of indift'erent direction.
Producers would answer me, I am sure, were I to question

CLOSE UP

the box office pull of the super-jazz band, that the effects are
suppHed by the real orchestra in the actual theatre. Sirs, I
want to see the film. A good film is a good film if it is seen

cold it must never sink to being an animated magic-
lantern slide for musical selections.

It is remarkable how much some pictures gain by being-
shown cold The public are rarely given an opportunity
of seeing pictures without the bleat of monster organs or the
palpitations of muted strings ; they are not given the chance
to say if they prefer to see their films without these elaborate
appurtenances. The Film Society allowed Rasholnikov to be
projected in silence, and Greed escaped with only slight
musical accompaniment. Apart from these two performances
at the Film Society I know of no public exhibition of a film
in London without some kind of more or less musical accom-
paniment, and I suggest cold projection to the Avenue
Pavilion as an interesting experiment. Eric Elliot in his
Anatomy of Motion Picture Art points out that a great deal
of the mystery and charm of the film lies in its silence, that a
person crossing a room without awakening the slightest
sound is performing an act which is immediately arresting.
Banishing the saxaphones and drum taps is only one step
further to capturing the hypnotic quality of the screen.

Some films call more for music than others, but the
gentlemen who waste hundreds of pounds on engaging-
expensive jazz experts do nothing to strengthen their case.
No precautions are taken that the music in the theatre shall
match in exclusiveness that represented on the screen ; a
piano, badly in need of tuning, may supply the effects for the
costly band blaring impotently on the silver sheet. Few

CLOSE UP

attempts have been made to commission composers of artistic
standing- to write special scores. Darius ]^Iilhaud did for
L'hihiimaine, and Edmund Meisel did for Berlin, PotemUin
and Ten Days, while Wolfang Zeller went further and in-
spired the delightful Adventures of Prince Achmed. Some
years ago, when Morosko was shown at the Polytechnic, it
was dignified with special music, and there were the addi-
tional numbers that Strauss wrote for the Rosenkavalier film.
But when do we hear the incidental music which Honegger
composed for the cinema, and what has happened to the
cinema music of Eric Satie?

Let our producer speak again for himself. Petulantly I
can hear him say that filming a jazz band does not make him
a musician. vSir, I can tell that from the ridiculous positions
in which your actresses hold the violin Just a song at
twilight ") or the amazing wav in which hands thump piano
keys in close-ups.

The apodosis was reached in The Constant Nymph ; when
Basil Dean eiecred to take an important sequence in the
Queen's Hall. The strangest concert in the home of the

Promenade Supposing somebody said to one of the old
brigade of concert-goers and Bach enthusiasts : " Do come
to the Queen's Hall to-morrow. Evening dress. Be there
at eleven in the morning and don't forget to bring your
make-up with you." Probably if he accepted he would hear
a few bars of music ; most of the time when the orchestra was
on the platform he would be told to get his lunch. He would
see a matinee idol take the baton to lead the orchestra, that
sombre pattern of black and white, now with powdered
cheeks; the tuba player with painted lips. He would be

CLOSE UP

instructed to clap perhaps before any music had been plaved,
for the poor silent screen can only record the music through
the reactions of the audience to the music. Here is a weak
point of their system. In order to allow our picture-goers to
grasp the significance of the music, as the director wants
them to understand it, the audience must roughly be divided
into groups who will react in the same way. In the concert-
hall no two people would react in quite the same manner to
the same composition, but the average picture-goer cannot be
expected to exert himself. Popular conceptions of different
people must react in the popularly conceived manner.

Mr. Basil Dean saw to it that his groups acted in unison.
His lynx eye detected what the third-man-from-the-left-in-
the-last-row was doing, and why was the woman in the silver
turban leaning too much to her right? The " supers were
marshalled and drilled with the precision worthy of a crack
regiment. They were initiated into the laws of etiquette,
psychology and other law. Mr. Dean had a flow of witticisms
to decorate his instructions. He knew what he wanted, and
he knew what the picture-goer w^anted.

Now," he instructed through the megaphone, some
people get up and wave their programmes. Not the people
in the dress-circle; they have paid more money and are more
self-conscious."

You elderly people may show a little approval this time.
It is very melodious, so like DEAR Gilbert and Sullivan ;
but, of course, you must be verv ' refeened ' in your applause
— you know what I mean."

Stop laughing there. When I sav ' one ' you all lean a
little to the left, when I say ' two ' . . ."

CLOSE UP

All this trouble and expense to film an unbearable sym-
phony; to film the unfilmable. Music is cinematographic,
but not a symphony concert.

How they give themselves away !

OSV^ELL BlAKESTON.

EXPERIMENTS IN ULTRA-CHEAP
CINEMATOGRAPHY

By Adrian Brunel

My experiments in ultra-cheap cinematography date from
1923 when, having just made The Man Without Desire, I
was warned that I might never get another job as a director.
It was said to confirm the suspicion which my A. A. Milne
comedies had raised amongst the film trade that my brow was
no lower than it ought to be. In my innocence I believed
that these comedies had been accepted by the public as amus-
ing— that is, funny without being vulgar. Of course, if they
had let me be really vulgar, I might have been really funny,
but then I would have been highbrow really.

It was a bad beginning. They had chalked me up high-
brow and it has taken me all the tears of Blighty to wash it
out. But I sensed my number was up for a bit, so I set to
w^ork by giving myself a job in my own films. From being
a penniless and discredited director, I became a penniless

CLOSE UP

producer and employed myself as director and leading actor
without pay.

Our first production was Crossing the Great Sagrada, a
burlesque travel film. It cost eighty pounds, and w^as 900 feet
long, one-third being titles, one-third cut-outs from old travel
pictures and one-third pictures of myself attitudinising in
various Clarksonian disguises.

Sagrada — excuse the loving abbreviation — had a pre-
release showing at the London Tivoli and was run at
hundreds of theatres throughout the United Kingdom (none
of my burlesques have been shown abroad). Yes — and the
Kinemato graph Weekly hailed me as The Leacock of the
Screen Also, one of the biggest American firms sent for
me with a view to work in Hollywood. wSo you see what
might happen to anyone with a cine-camera and a roving
commission.

Encouraged, but as yet unpaid by my renters, I plunged
further into the Masurian swamp of production finance.
Bitten by the cry for bigger and better pictures, I launched
on a ninety-pound production, which I called The Pathetic
Gazette, I attitudinised more in my early Clarksons, some-
times in bathing costume (no Narcissism this — just the purest
economy), and induced my cameraman, Henry Harris, to do
the same while I took charge of the camera. The same glit-
tering result — Tivoli, Leacock, bookings and What about
it ? from Hollywood. And no money from the renters. In
fact, they went broke and I met my Tannenburg.

Again I retired from production until Michael Balcon, the
Lasky of British Films, introduced me to C. M. Woolf and
for them I embarked on five more burlesques — Battling

CLOSE UP

Bruisers (a parody of a boxing film), The Blunderland of Big
Game (a wild animal film without any wild animals), So This
Is Jollywood (a peep behind the scenes). Cut It Out (fun with
the Censor) and A Typical Budget (a sequel to The Pathetic
Gazette).

The interiors for these burlesques were made in a real
studio, hired for one day for each subject. My expenses for
the day averaged about £80 and included sets, furniture, cos-
tumes, props, negative, artists, cameraman, etc., though this
cost was always more than doubled before completion.
Battling Bruisers had no exteriors and we did the 67 scenes in
one day ! This was achieved by having one camera fixed for
ill long shots, while a second camera was mobile for changes
of angles and closer shots.

(The real studio " referred to was 45 ft. long and 30 ft.
wide, the one which Sir Herbert von Herkomer built at
Bushey.)

Two of the films were all exterior, which was just as costly
as working in the studio, for we lived on location for eight
days, my cast and staff including Edwin Greenwood, John
Orton, Lionel Rich and Mrs. Miles Mander.

Apart from these, I made one other short film for C. M.
Woolf, entitled Money for Nothing, This cost £65 and was
made for the first anniversary of the Shepherds Bush
Pavilion, when Harold Lloyd's Hot Water was first shown in
England. The film was all about the cut-throat methods of
the film trade and the new Harold Lloyd film — about Hot
Wardour Street, in fact. Michael Balcon, C. M. Woolf and
many prominent exhibitors appeared in the picture. The
film was not intended for public exhibition, but has been worn

CLOSE UP

out in the private theatres of the W. & F. Company, at secret
conclaves of sportsmen who enjoy a bit of leg-pulling.

A couple of years ago I made with Ivor Montagu another
ulira-cheap production which cost approximately £20.

This was done during a house party at the late Lord
Swaythiing's place outside Southampton, and was entitled
Love, Life and Laughter at Sieaythliug Court. I was the
cameraman and Mr. Montagu was a featured player, under
the nom-de-guerre of Monte Glue. A feature of the film's
one and only showing at a private party in London was that
we included excerpts from the Press notices we might have
received.

My only advice to anv group of enthusiasts who embark
upon cheap little films is to fight their battle on paper before
shooting a single scene. Prepare vour shots in elaborate
script form first, working out every detail of cost, cast, camera
angles and action ; if vou don't vou will surely fall into trouble
and find }T)urselves without enough money to complete.

KING VIDOR OX EUROPEAN FILMS

European producers, instead of competing with American
films on a straio:hr production basis, are fighting for supre-
macy with freak and futuristic screen experiments.

This was the finding of King \'idor, noted director, who
studied the foreign production field during his extensive trip
abroad.

CLOSE UP

The foreign producers are more courageous and are
making more headway than in the past," Vidor observed.

This progress, however, has not been from a soHd founda-
tion of sound production methods as was the development of
the film industry in America.

" There are any number of ' little theatre ' movements to
be encountered, and it is in these houses that the unique pro-
ductions being made abroad are to be found. I saw one in
which the entire story was told in close-ups, a daring experi-
ment that is admirable, in effort, but scarcely to be
considered anything more than a very well done novelty.
Others were done along similar lines, the producer attempt-
ing to strike upon some unusual camera work or treatment
as an outstanding feature.

" All of these pioneering steps are laudable and hold much
promise. They are interesting and worthy of the attempt.
But as earnest competition to American films they are woe-
fully lacking.

It is apparent that the foreign producers are not trying
to match their products with those of American producers.
They have not built up their organizations and concentrated
for their actual benefit upon straight productions. They are
more intent, it seems, upon a cinematic fishing expedition
that might net them something worth while, but in all prob-
abilitv will be quite unproductive.

" In my opinion the chief fault with the foreign producing
market is that they appear reluctant to invest sufficient
capital in their films to make really good productions. They
cannot seem to see what enormous returns they can obtain
from such investments by making good pictures. These

CLOSE UP

' arty ' efforts are splendid, and often show strokes of genius.
But they will not and cannot make money. And unless
pictures make enough money to justify the tremendous
financial outlay the producers cannot weld together a strong
organization.

Another thing I noticed abroad is that while films are
very popular, yet there are a great number of people who sel-
dom find time to go to the picture theatres. With this great
potential audience yet to be educated to screen entertainment
it would seem that the foreign production market would have
a very happy opportunity to expand and enlarge upon their
production methods.

There is plenty of room in the film field for the foreign
producer. There is no cause of any jealousy on this point.
Better pictures raise the standards of the entire industry re-
gardless as to who makes them.*'

Vidor, who directed The Big Parade and The Crowd, as
well as Show People, soon to be released with Marion Davies
and William Haines co-starring, expressed a desire to make
a film abroad.

There are many ideal location possibilities, he said, that
can only be found in Southern Europe, where many towns
remain to-day as they were hundreds of years ago. Such an
atmosphere, he declared, defies reproduction and cannot be
found anvwhere else in the world.

" Just a memory." Who remembers Xazimova in Salome, the 8 year old
pure art production ? Recently this film was revived at the Holh^Avood
Filmarte Theatre and was acclaimed as a creation of classic beauty.

What is Salome doing here ? The attitude suggests luging, but is
probablv an incantation. Only one set was used for this six reel
adaptation from Oscar Wilde's version of the Gospel story of
Herodias' daughter and the Baptist.

John (Xigel de Brulier) a prisoner in the Palace of Herod Antipas
undergoes an endurance test. Who'll win ?

From the Emelka Spanish Film Aimless Hearts.

George Stabavoj, the director of Two Days, one of the very best
Russian films (Wufku). StiUs appear elsewhere.

CLOSE UP

BOOK REVIEWS

DER GEZEICHNETE FILM (CARTOON FILMS).
Dr. Konrad Wolter. Rm. 12.

KINOMATOGRAPHISCHE PROJEKTION (KINE-
MATOGRAPHIC PROJECTION). Herr Joachim
(Wilhelm Knapp ; Halle-an-der-Saale, Germany).

The strength of the film Hes in its youth, its lawlessness.
Thence proceeds the compelling power that draws us all
within its enchantment. Thence also its defects. Shadowy
elements, failing lamentably in other spheres, have been
allowed to break in upon this free territory and operate at
large, regardless and irresponsible, unencumbered by know-
ledge. Hence the evil reputation of the film to date. And
we should therefore be grateful to those who have made it
their serious aim to treat all questions that can be systematised,
thereby serving as pathfinders in the thicket where so many
amateurs are astray. Der Gezeichnete Film is, as its author
tells us in a preface, a translation, amplified by the addition
of his personal knowledge, of the American Animated
Cartoons of E. G. Lutz. It is a book that makes one aware
of the drawn film as a sadly neglected branch of film-art. I
say film-art deliberately, for the productions of many
American draughtsmen are most certainly to be described as
works of art in the fullest sense of the term. And these
cartoons represent only the beginnings of a most promising

CLOSE UP

form of film-art. Much that in the normal film cannot be
represented at all, since the actors, being human, are in
bondage to physical laws, can be fully expressed in the drawn
film, for here the imagination of the artist has full play.
Moreover, what is by no means an insignificant incidental
advantage, the comparative cheapness of this form of film
offers to all draughtsmen able to create films an excellent field.
With the simplest installation of light, a camera, a little paper
and much talent, fine work can most certainly be achieved.

After an introductory general consideration of the Film and
some useful chronological matter, the author enters his chosen
field. In a singularly practical and simple manner he teaches
us the art of the drawn film. The necessary appliances can,
we are told, easily be made by any capable amateur craftsman.
We learn all about the joining of the various movements and
of so many other important details, that I have no doubt
whatever that a sufficiently imaginative amateur with only
small means at his disposal could make, with the help of this
book, a good cartoon film. Nothing is omitted. All the
ingenious devices that can serve the purposes of this most
tedious and care-demanding art are brought to our notice.
The possibilities of the drawn film grow clear as we read.
Dream ideas, dream wishes, may be fulfilled. We are in the
land of fantasy, a land, unfortunately, too rarely visited.

Dr. Wolter very justly remarks that the essential for the
drawn film, as for all other artistic work, is a leading idea.
Also that it is useless to begin until one has completely
grasped the character of the medium. Having given some
practical advice as to the development, drying and copying
of film, the author turns to the educational possibilities of the

CLOSE UP

drawn film. A well-balanced book on behalf of an art that
amongst much else has given us Lotte Reiniger's Prince
Achmed,

Kinomatogr aphis che Projektion deals with questions that
are of importance to all film exhibitors. Just as even the most
beautiful musical composition suffers through the defective
interpretation of a mediocre orchestra, so does a film at the
hands of a projector incapable of doing full justice to its
symphony in black and white. The author states the
significance of cinematography in the form of statistics now
inevitably out-of-date. The different film formats, the
standard format (35mm), Pathe, Baby and Kodak are
severally introduced, and the demonstration of the process of
preparing a projection apparatus is sufficient for our full in-
struction. The author brings all kinds of apparatus to our
notice without favouring any one in particular. His work is
primarily addressed to technicians, but group-leaders (and
Close Up, I believe, counts such amongst its readers) will
certainly find much useful material in this exact and intelli-
gently handled exposition. To small projectors, travelling
projectors, and the so-called Koffer-kinos (portable cines),
Herr Joachim gives much attention. These handy and
finished products make possible the improvisation of shows in
premises not in any way fitted up for such, and are especially
useful for schools, clubs and private exhibitions. Both these
books will, by reason of their quiet practicality, most certainly
assist in inspiring confidence in those who hitherto have been
inclined to look askance at the Film. And for this alone

gratitude is due to their authors. ^

Tean Lenauer.

CLOSE UP

LE FILM A GENEVE

Les initiatives diverses qui ont pris naissance a Geneve,
dans le domaine international ont confere a cette ville un
caractere d'importance diplomatique dont ses habitants se
sentent particulierement honores. La Societe des Nations et
le Bureau Industriel du Travail sont venus elargir encore ce
rare privilege et desormais on ne saurait que souhaiter de plus.

Cette importance, toutefois, n'est pas applicable a la ville
elle-meme qui demeure modestement peuplee de quelque
130,000 habitants et ne compte guere qu'une quinzaine de
salles de cinemas. Trois ou quatre de ces salles sont spacie-
usement amenagees et se differencient de quelques autres qui
restent dans une moyenne raisonnable bien que quelques unes
sont en realite tres modestes, comme de vastes chambres, et se
repartissent dans les divers quartiers de la ville ou elles
constituent le rendez-vous d'un certain nombre d'habitues qui
en apprecient avant tout la proximite.

Les programmes ne sont en general ni bons ni mauvais,
c'est a dire que Geneve pent voir, comme toute autre ville, la
production courante, quelquefois meme avant Paris ou Berlin
selon que le film est allemand ou francais. Les films sortent
presque en totalite des studios d'Hollywood, encore qu'un
certain nombre nous soit venu, I'an dernier, de I'Ufa et de

CLOSE UP

Compagnies francaises. Tres rarement, un film anglais, ou
italien, et encore plus rarement un film russe. Des bandes
viennoises, genre operette, se suivent, et se ressemblent,
attirant leurs amateurs.

Curieuse, eveillee, la population genevoise se rend assez
facilement au cinema, et, comme partout, il en est qui ne
voient dans cette forme de distraction pas autre chose qu'un
agreable passe-temps, tandis que d'autres, et ils sont nom-
breux, ont souci de gout artistique. Les premiers adoptent
generalement une salle, quel que soit le programme annonce,
tandis que les seconds choisissent, guides en cela par les
critiques publiees dans tous les journaux. Panegyriques ?
Non, heureusement, et Ton n'a pas encore perdu, ici, la
qualite qui nous valut de Stendhal ce compliment : Les
Genevois ont une nettete admirable dans I'esprit ". Les films,
comme les livres, sont scrupuleusement examines et le
jugement rendu est presque toujours impartial, ou du moins
exprime-t-il bien uniquement le sentiment des critiques,
lesquels sont presque tous hommes de lettres. Leur com-
petence est admise du public et cela cree une atmosphere de
confiance qui facilite grandement le succes legitime d'un bon
film.

De publications relatives a Tart muet, il n'en est qu'une a
vrai dire, c'est " CIXE " revue ornee de riches illustrations
et renfermant toujours un certain nombre d'articles tres
interessants : exposes, etudes, critiques, etc., dont quelques-
uns s'attaquent avec ironie aux aberrations du cinema et du
public. " Cinemaboulie volume publie par la redaction de
Cine, est une fine satire du monde de I'ecran et de ses admira-
teurs exageres.

CLOSE UP

Tourne-t-on des films a Geneve? Eh, oui ! Ton en tourne
par ci par la. M. Porchet, dii Laboratoire des films
scolaires, est tres occupe a confectionner das bandes a portee
educative. Disposant d'une installation tres complete, il est
a meme de mettre a profit toute Texperience acquise, jadis,
alors qu-aux Etats-Unis il travaillait aux premieres realisa-
tions du cinema. A part cela, une Cooperative de production
cinematographique a ete cree Tan dernier, mais jusqu'ici
aucun film n'a ete presente au public. Un amateur, M.
Roessgen, vient de terminer un essai intitule : L'Obsession
qui, par sa conception originale et ses prises de vue varices,
offre deja un interet certain. En collaboration avec M.
Aymar, de la Revue Suisse du Cinema, M. Roessgen a ega-
lement realise un film : Le monde des automates " qui est
une patiente photographic des petits bonshommes animes dont
nos aieux se sont fort egayes. Quelques films ont ete tournes,
ces dernieres annees, dans les Alpes; seuls sont a retenir ceux
qui ne comportaient aucun scenario et ne reposaient que sur
la valeur spectaculaire des paysages enregistres, car les
" romans " essayes furent tous d'une lamentable pauvrete
d'idee et d'execution.

Mais la cause du film compte a Geneve de fervents partisans,
et c'est la, en somme, que nous trouvons matiere a nous
rejouir. Une association de cinephiles s'est fondee Tan
dernier, qui a pris nom " Cine-Club et a deja fait projeter
cet hiver un certain nombre de bandes nouvelles de Cavalcanti
et Germaine Dulac, agrementees d'un expose personnel de
leurs auteurs. Malheureusement, le nombre encore restreint
des membres de Cine-Club impose une contribution financiere
trop forte pour permettre au public de moyenne condition de

CLOSE UP

profiter de son initiative. II serait bien regrettable que cet
etat de choses ne se modifiat pas tout naturellement par une
sensible augmentation de Teffectif .

Tout recemment, quelques cinephiles recurent une carte
d'invitation les priant d'assister a la projection du film La
Mere " de Pudowkin. Cette carte mentionnait la creation
d'un second club intitule : Club du nouveau film au sujet
duquel aucune communication n'avait ete faite dans la presse.
Quelle aubaine ! voir enfin Tun des chefs-d'oeuvre russes !
Fideles au rendez-vous nous nous sommes rendus vers un petit
cinema local ou, a I'heure indiquee, nous trouvons un
attroupement insolite. Un ukase tardif des autorites venait
de defendre la projection " en prive " du film. Le pretexte,
purement politique, evidemment, d'autant plus que les
organisateurs de la seance n'etaient autres que certains
militants socialistes. Mais une assemblee reunie sur le champ
adressa une protestation aux autorites et decida de constituer
le nouveau club en luttant avec la derniere energie pour la
liberte du film a Geneve, centre international comme dit
(i-dessus. II nous est indifferent, a vrai dire, que ce soit
celui-ci ou celui-la, blanc, noir ou rouge, qui apporte a Geneve
les chefs-d'oeuvre sovietiques, pourvu seulement que ceux-ci
soient projetes.

Mais la politique, ici comme ailleurs, joue son role nefaste
et regente le domaine du film.

F. ChEV ALLEY.

CLOSE UP

COMMENT AND REVIEW

The Black Bear, a film made by the Manchester Film
Society, has been taken by Messrs. Gibbs Ltd., 15, Great
Ducie Street, Manchester, for showing. Any enquiries con-
nected with the hiring of the film should be sent to this firm
direct. It is certainly a step forward in the right direction
and all amateur film societies will be interested in the news.
It is said that an amazing development of the theatre in
America was the result of a few years' work there by the little
theatre movement. In a like manner the level of English
cinematography may depend upon the efforts of those making
films because they are interested in them as an art, rather than
because they hope for quick profit on turning out films made
to the pattern of last year's success. As The Kinemato graphic
Weekly pointed out in a recent article, appealing to the
popular idea tends always to fall below what the crowd really
wants and makes for careless use of technical materials
available.

When Prince Achmed was recently revived at the Kamera
in Berlin Lotte Reiniger, the maker, interrupted to protest
against the cutting which had been made. We understand
that the public warmly applauded her protest. Which is all
to the good. Public support for sorely abused directors'
rights is universally needed.

CLOSE UP

Ernest Schoedsack ana Merian Cooper, makers of the
classic films Grass and Chang, are now preparing to give the
world another of their wonder pictures — this time with the
wilds of Africa as a background. After a year spent in
the heart of the Sudan, they have returned to Hollywood with
many reels of film recording their adventures in this terra
incognita. The picture will not be ready for release until after
the first of the year, and while it is being cut and titled the
Pararnount-Lasky Company, who control it, are withholding
all information regarding its contents.

Secrecy in connection with their enterprises is characteristic
of these two camera explorers, Schoedsack and Cooper. When
they disappear on one of their explorations they leave no trace
of their objective and remain completely out of the touch with
the world. They confess to entertaining a superstitious belief
that they would otherwise meet with ill fortune.

* * *

The long search at last is ended. Lulu has been found.
By the time this is in print it will be news no longer. Having
literally searched the whole of Europe for a suitable type for
Lulu in The Box of Pandora (adapted from the book by
Wedekind), having interviewed literally hundreds and tested
scores, in Germany, France, Sw^eden, Austria, Hungary,
G. W. Pabst has at last found, in America, the type for which
he had been seeking in vain. Lulu will be no other than
Louise Brooks, the well-known Paramount Junior star.

The search for Lulu has been almost the principal topic of
interest in Germanv for a couple of months. Everywhere one
went one heard " What about Lulu?" Is Lulu found

CLOSE UP

yet?" . . . Lulu is found. And now, after long delay,
Pandora will be filmed by Nero Film.

Fritz Rasp, the immortal Villain-Of-The-Piece of Jeanne

Ney, and many other films, is making three films for Derussa.

* ^

Soviet operators have filmed the rescue of the Xobile
expedition by Krassin, and this highlv interesting film is
being shown in Russia.

* * *

The Film Guild of London is a new enterprise worthy of
support and encouragement, to which we draw our readers'
attention. This is an amateur society, the objects of which
include the production of standard size films, at first with
professional aid, for public exhibition; co-ordination of
amateur societies; regular private exhibition of films not
available to the general public ; advice and instruction in the
writing of film plavs ; and the furtherance of the artistic and
technical development of the Cinema. A membership of one
thousand is hoped for, and applications for membership are
particularly desired from scenario writers, electricians, and
other technicians, as well as from artistes. The annual sub-
scription is two guineas per year, which includes one year's
subscription to the official organ, the Cinema World. The
Board may admit, however, at their discretion, at the special
rate of one guinea per annum, boys and girls still at school.
After the first 250 members there will be an entrance fee of
one guinea. Full particulars of the Guild may be obtained
from the Hon. Secretary, ]\Ir. H. P. J. jMarshall, of 115,.Ilford
Lane, Ilford.

CLOSE UP

HOLLYWOOD NOTES.

The Love Song will be D. W. Griffith's next picture for
L^'nited Artists. The story was written by Karl Volmiiller,
author of The Miracle, Dr. Volmiiller spent several months
in Hollywood on the occasion of the presentation of The
Miracle in Los Angeles, and made an intensive study of
cinema production, including particularly the technique of
scenario writing.

The leading players in The Love Song are William Boyd,
Lupe Velez, Jetta Goudal, and George Fawcett. The story
is laid in France during the days of Louis Napoleon. An
especially striking feature of the sound effects that accom-
pany the film is the singing of the Marsellaise by a chorus
of a thousand soldiers on a battlefield. Lupe Velez is also
heard in a solo rendition of The Love Song, a romantic
ballad composed especially for the picture by Irving Berlin.

The Eastman Company's recently perfected color process
for the use of amateurs has stimulated renewed interest in
color photography, and has given an added impetus to the
plans of cinema producers to include color as well as sound
in their forthcoming films. Paramount, Universal, Fox,
First National, and United Artists are already completing
pictures thus treated.

CLOSE UP

Wider range of hues, softer blending, and clearer defini-
tion of objects are some of the noteworthy results achieved
during the past year.

* * * .

Paramount has recently installed a radio broadcasting
studio on its lot. Transmitting over a five-thousand-watt
station (KNX), it is keeping a large section of the globe en-
tertainingly informed of the picture studio's activities, as well
as retailing interesting bits of personal information concern-
ing the popular actors and directors.

This is the second Hollywood motion picture studio to be
equipped with radio as a means of advertising. Warner
Brothers have been " on the air " through their own station,
KFWB, for the past two or three years, and during this time,
in addition to studio news, have given the public many en-
joyable entertainments, in which noted picture players them-
selves have occasionally taken part.

« «

The title of The Candle in the Wind, a Warner Brothers
forthcoming production, has been changed to Conquest. In
this picture H. B. Warner and Monte Blue have their first
cinema talking parts. Their roles are those of aviators, en-
gaged in South Polar flights.

Aerial pictures continue to be the vogue. Ramon Novarro's
M-G-M current film. Gold Braid, is a romance of naval avia-
tion ; while Paramount's Dirigible, fes-tuving Fay Wray, is
a picture of spectacular thrills aboard an air liner.

CLOSE UP

Lya de Putti, who had her introduction to American audi-
ences in Jannings' Variety, plays the stellar role in a recent
Columbia film, The Scarlet Lady. Appearing with her in
the picture is Theodore Lodi, the adopted professional name
of Theodore Lodijensky, a former general in the Czar's
Cossack army. Following the revolution he escaped to
America, and recently conducted an exclusive Hollywood
cafe, The Russian Eagle, a picturesque gathering place for
the elite of the picture colony. A short while ago the place
was destroyed by fire and explosion, and the popular Lodi-
jensky was thereupon induced to enter the ranks of filmdom.

* * *

John Barrymore will appear in a phonofilm directed by
Ernest Lubitsch for United Artists. The photodrama,
adapted by Hans Kraly from the popular European novel,

Der Konig der Bernina," by Jacob Christoph Heer, is laid
in Switzerland during the early part of the last century.

* * *

The midwinter scenes in The River, Frank Borzage's
latest picture for Fox, were taken in midsummer in Southern
California. A twenty-five acre location containing a con-
struction camp, with a background of forest and mountain,
was converted into a realistic winter setting by the use of in-
geniously manufactured snow and ice.

* * *

Sins of the Fathers is Emil Jannings' latest Paramount
picture, a phonofilm, directed by Ludwig Berger.

CLOSE UP

FILMS TO SEE

First Choice (A). Second Choice (B). Third Choice (C).
Russian.

Bed and Sofa {Trots dans un Sous-Sol), Sud fihn release.
Ludmila Semenova, W. Fogel and Nicolei Bataloff . Directed
by Alexander Room. Masterpiece of tragic psychology. (A)

End of St, Petersbnrg, The. Meschrabpom-Russ produc-
tion. Derussa release. Direction : W. Pudowkin. Mss. :
Natan Zarchi. Photography: Anatolij Golownia. Sets :
Koslowski. Played by Baranowskaja, W. Oblensky as
Lebedeff. J. Tschuwileff and Tschistiakoff . (A)

Mechanics of the Brain. Scientific film made by W.
Pudowkin and Professor Pavlof. Particulars elsewhere in
this issue. (A)

Moscow that Laughs and Weeps. Meschrabpom-Russ,
released by Derussa. Direction : Barnett. Anna Sten, J.
Kow^al-Samborski, W. Fogel. Delightful new aspects of
comedy possibility. (B)

Mother, The. Meschrabpom-Russ. From the story by
Maxim Gorki. Direction : W. Pudowkin. The mother :
W. Baranowskaja. The father : Leinstjakoff . The son :
Nicolei Bataloff. (A)

Peasant Women of Riazanj {Das Dorf der Siinde). Sovkino
film, Derussa release. Directed by Olga Preobrashenskaja.
R. Pushnaja as Anna, E. Zessarskaja as Wassilissa, O.
Narbekowa as the mistress, E. Fastrebitski as Wassily. (A)

CLOSE UP

Pits {Die Fallgriiben des Lebens), a new film by A. Room,
Particulars elsewhere in this issue. (B)

Son, The. Sovkino film. Derussa release. Direction :

E. Tscherwjakov. Anna Sten, Gennadi] ^Nlitschurin. (B)

Ten Days that Shook the World (Oktober). Sovkino film,
released by Prometheus Film A. G. Direction : S. Eisen-
stein. One of the strongest films ever made. Cameraman ;
Tisse. Assistant : G. Alexandroft'. (A)

Two Days. Wufku Film. Directed by George Stabavoj.

F. E. Samytschkowski in a marvellous role. S. A. [Nlinin as
his son. (A)

Yellow Pass, The. Meschrabpom-Russ. Released by
Derussa. Direction : F. Ozep. Anna Sten, J. Kowal-
Samborski, W. Fogel. (B)

Zvenigora. Wufku. Direction : Dobschenko. Nikolas
Xademskv in remarkable character role. (B)

German.

Crisis (Abwege). Erda Film, released by Deutsche-
Universal. Direction : G. W. Pabst. Brigitte Helm, Jack
Trevor, Herta v. Walter, Gustav Diesel, Fritz Odemar. (B)

City Symphony (Berlin). By Walter Ruttman. A day in
Berlin with neither actors nor sets. Photography by Carl
Freund. (B)

Edge of the World {Am Rande der Welt). Ufa. Direction :
Carl Grune. Sets by Xeppach. Brigitte Helm, Jean Bradin,
Wilhelm Dieterle, Albert Steinriick. (C)

CLOSE UP

Looping the Loop, Arthur Robison production for Ufa.
Mss. : Arthur Robison and Robert Liebmann. Photo-
graphy : Carl Hoffmann. Sets by Robert Herlth and Walter
Rohrig. In the cast : Werner Krauss, Jenny Jugo and
Warwick Ward. (C)

Loves of Jeanne Ney. Ufa. Direction : G. W. Pabst.
Mss. : Leonhardt. Photography : F. A. Wagner. Edith
Jehanne, Brigitte Helm, Uno Henning, Fritz Rasp, A. E.
Licho, Vladimir Sokoloff. (A)

Master of Number g. Phoebus Film. Direction : Ludwig
Berger. Maria Solveg. Gustav Frohlich. (C)

Out of the Mist. Defu Production. Direction : Fritz
Wendhausen. Mady Christians, Werner Fuetterer, Vladimir
Sokoloff. (C)

The Spy, Ufa. Fritz Lang Production. Mss. : Thea
von Harbou. Photography : F. A. Wagner. Willy Fritz,
Lupu Pick, Gerda Maurus, Lien Deyers, R. Klein-Rogge.

(C)

Tragedy of the Street. Pantomim Film. Direction :
Bruno Rahn. Photography : Guido Seeber. Asta Nielsen
in wonderful role. Oscar Homolka, Hilda Jennings, W.
Pittschaw. (B)

Ten Mark Note, Adventures of. Fox-Europa Production.
Direction : Viertel. Werner Fuetterer, Anna Meiller,
Imogen Robertson, Walter Frank. (C)

CLOSE UP

French.

Chapeau de Faille Italic (Italian Straw Hat). Albatross
film. Directed bv Rene Clair. Featuring Olga Tschekowa.
(B)

En Rade. Neofilm. Direction : Alberto Cavalcanti. (B)
Rien que les Heures. Neofilm. Direction : Alberto

Cavalcanti. (B)

Therese Raquin. First National. Direction : Jacques

Feyder. (C)

Voyage an Congo. Neofilm. Record by Marc Allegret of
his journey with Andre Gide to the Congo.

American.

Chicago, Pathe-de Mille. With Phyllis Haver and
Victor Varconi. (C)

King of Kings. Producers Distributing. Directed by
C. B. de Mille. (B)

Man Who Laughs ^ The. Universal. Direction : Paul
Leni. Conrad Veidt, Mary Philbin, Baclanova. (C)

First Kiss, The. Fay Wray and Gary Cooper. (C)

Speedy. Paramount. A really good new Harold Lloyd
comedy. (C)

Stella Polaris. Fox. Fine film of northern hunting. (B)
Sunrise. Fox. Direction : F. W. Murnau. George
O^Brien, Janet Gay nor and Margaret Livingston. (C)

NEXT MONTH
An article by Dr. Hans Sachs, the eminent Viennese
psycho-analyst on psychology and the film, will appear, to
which we beg to call the attention of our readers.

The Avenue Pavilion

101 Shaftesbury Avenue^ W.l

A GAUMONT-BRITISH THEATRE
The Home of International Film Art.
Managing Director - Reginald C. Bromhead. Manager - Leslie Ogilvie.
Director of Music - Arthur Dulay.

The following attractions will be presented exclusive to this theatre :

ATONEMENT OF GOSTA BERLING

From the story by Dr. Selma Lagerlof, for which she was awarded
the Nobel Prize. She is an Honorary- Doctor of the University (Sweden).
Directed by Mauritz Stiller. Sweden's Foremost Director. Featuring Lars Hansen, Greta
Garbo, Jenny Hasselquist, Gerda Lunequist Dahlstrom & Ellen Cederstrom.

Premier Presentation —

HE WHO COVETS

A story of Russia, the Bolshevic risings, and Revolution.
Directed by Robert Dinesen. Featuring Olga Tschechowa, Paul Hartman & Robert Dinesen.

KEAN

From the play by Alexandre Dumas, and the authentic documents of the period.
Directed by M. A. Volkoff. Featuring Ivan Mosjoukine

TWO BROTHERS

The story of an idealist and a materialist.
Directed by Karle Grune. Featuring Conrad Veidt, Lil Dagover & Liane Haid

THE OYSTER PRINCESS

Pure farce, constructed in the spacious Lubitsch manner — an extravaganza on the subject of
the burden of riches. Directed bv Ernst Lubitsch. Featuring Victor Jansen &Ossi Oswalda.

A WOMAN OF PARIS

A story of everyday life, as lived every day by ever>'day people.
Written and directed by Charles Chaplin. Featuring Edna Purviance & Adolphe Menjou.

MANON LESCAUT

Adapted from the famous and tragical romance by the Abbe Prevost, and the Opera by Massenet.
Directed by Dr. Arthur Robison. Costumes by Paul Leni. Featuring Lya de Putti &

Vladimir Gaidarow.

Premier Presentation —

TARTUFFE

From the story by Moliere. " He who sins in secret does not sin at all."
Directed by F. W. Murnau. Photographed by Carl Freund. Featuring Emil Jannings,
Werner Krauss and Lil Dagover.

THE LAST LAUGH

The story of an hotel porter whose tragedy lies in the loss of his uniform.
Directed by F. W. Murnau. Featuring Emil Jannings, George John, Emille Kurz & Mady

Delschaft.

Buses to the Door : — Nos. la, ic, 14, 14a, 19c, igd, 22, 24, 29, 29a, 29b, 29c, 38, 39, 48, 129, 138.
In view of the fact that Dates of forthcoming attractions are often unavoidably subject to alteration,
the Management respectfully request Patrons to be guided finally by the advertisements in the
following newspapers : — Times, Daily Telegraph, Morning Post, Daily Express, Daily Neus, Evening

News, Star, and Standard.
Continuous Performances DAILY, commencing at 2 p.m. till 11 p.m. SUNDAYS 6 — 11
Each session lasts three hours, thereby making 3 sessions per day, viz : —

2 till S 5 till 8 8 till II

MATINEES recommended for comfortable choice of seats.

W^nat s KLappening
m A merica

along the line of visual
instruction in schools,
and in the general field of public
education, is presented in

Ue EDUCATIONAL SCREEN

The only magazine in the United States specifi-
cally devoted to the serious side of pictures

New thought on the subject

New productions in educational films

Current opinion on the Hollywood product

The Educational Screen is known
around the world.

Foreign subscription price :

3.00 for one year 4.00 for two years

THE EDUCATIONAL SCREEN, 5 S. WABASH AVENUE,
CHICAGO, U.S.A.

Join the Jilm bureau

Locate and see only the
better motion pictures

Don't waste time and money seeing
the inferior, uninteresting, stupid
picture when there are really good
pictures to be seen.

Disinterested Advice from
A Discriminating Source

The Film Bureau offers its subscribers
A year's subscription (six issues) to
the Film Bulletin (a monthly guide
to the best pictures), November to
April inclusive. Complimentary and
specially priced tickets for some of
the best pictures. Privately screened
pictures. Service in arranging enter-
tainments in connection with motion
pictures. A fifty per cent discount
in renting The Bureau's Portable
Motion Picture Machines (for private
screenings). An office information ser-
vice and special advantages when it
opens its own Little Picture House.
The subscription is ten dollars a year.

Join now. Application cards and other
data (including a complimentary copy of
the film bulletin) mailed on request

Film Bureau, 4 West 40th
Street, New York, N.Y.

" The best voice in a wilderness
of films "

That is what a New York motion picture man has said about The Film Spectator,
edited by Welford Beaton and pubUshed in Hollywood.

Now The Spectator is acclaimed by public and press and Mr. Beaton is referred to
as " America's most discerning motion picture critic ". He tells the truth about
pictures and the people who make them with rare ability. Hundreds of heartening
letters of commendation have been received.

" Read The Spectator ? Of course ! Where else could I find the same spirit of
courage, conviction, and joyous contempt for consequences ?" — Samuel Hopkins
Adams.

" I read the Film Spectator with increasing interest. There is vigorous and
excellent writing in it." — H. L. MENCKEN.

The Film Spectator reveals its editor as a WTiter of practically perfect English, and
as a man with an analytical mind, a sense of humour and a profound knowledge of the
screen." — Arthur D. Howden Smith.

" The numbers sent me confirs Mr. Ralph Flint's suggestions to me that 3-our
magazine is truly the best voice in the wilderness of films. Not only do I find your
judgments honest, but they are penetratingly just." — Symon Gould. Executive
Director, Film Arts Guild, New York.

" I find more sound sense in what you write about the present situation than in
anything that has ever been said or written about it." — John W. Rumsey. (President
American Play Co. Inc., New York.

** Welford Beaton is America's most discerning motion picture critic." — London
(England) Express.

'* Welford Beaton ... a literate writer of motion picture criticism . . . his
opinion has been uniformly sound." — Nevj York World.

Subscription for one year $5.00, foreign $6.00. Single copies free on request.**

are some

comments :

" THE FILM SPECTATOR," 7213 Sunset Blvd. Hollywood, Calif.
Please find enclosed % for yearly subscription to " The Film Spectator.

Name

Address

LES EDITIONS

Pierre Braunberger

dans

vendent

monde

entier

films

les

meilleurs

Ave^-vous besoin d'un conseil

ARTISTIQUE? TECHNIQUE?
COMMERCIAL ? FINANCIER ?

l>lous vous mettrons en relation avec les meilleurs specialistes
du monde cinematographique

15 avenue Matignon 15

PARIS VHP

Telephone : Elysee 86-84

THE DIAL

A MONTHLY MAGAZINE
OF ART AND LITERATURE

FOUNDED 1880

EDITOR : MARIANNE MOORE

BY FRANCIS F. BROWNE

ADVISER : SCOFIELD THAYER

(t^mong recent contributors are

W. C. BLUM
KENNETH BURKE
E. E. CUMMINGS
H. D.

FRANK DOBSON

RALPH CHEEVER DUNNING

ROGER FRY

ALYSE GREGORY

GASTON LACHAISE

MARIE LAURENCIN

D. H. LARWENCE
THOMAS MANN
PAUL MORAND
RAYMOND MORTIMER
PABLO PICASSO
PAUL ROSENFELD
GERTRUDE STEIN
PAUL VALERY

WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

. . . often full of very inter esting things, and is so well printed,
and makes for good all rounds The Mask, July 1925

ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION FIVE DOLLARS

(Foreign postage 60 cents additional)

^Address

152 WEST 13th STREET NEW YORK

A Young Society

NEOFILM

groups young producers under
the artistic and technical direction
of Alberto Cavalcanti who
directed the 3 first Neofilm
productions

RIEN QUE EES HEURES
EN RADE

ANDRE GIDE and MARC ALLEGRETS
Travel Picture

is a Neofilm Production

YVETTE

au Congo

l^a plus import ante revue francaise

de Qinema

La Cinematograpkie
rrancaise

CHAQUE SEMAIXE TOUTES LES XOUVELLES DL' CINEMA

Films en Preparation
Analyses des Noiiveaux Films
Clironiqiie Je L Exploitation

Clironic^ue Fmanciere

LES PROGRE5 D£ LA TECHNIQUE
LE5 NOUVELLES INVENTIONS

j^uvelles d' Angieterre, Am'erique^ Allemagne, Espagne, Ital'te

DIRECTEUR REDACTEUR EN CHEF : P.- A. HARLfi
5 RUE SAULNIER PARIS (9*)

Telephone : Provence 02. 13

SENSATIONAL BOOKS

Anatomy of jMotioii Picture Art

By Eric Elliott, Price 6 shillings.

" One would willingly pay a guinea for Anatomy of Motion Picture
Art. Air. Elliott avoids any of the emotional rhetoric which mediocrity
seems to bring to a consideration of the movies. . . . Nearly every-
thing he says makes one pause to think." — The London Mercury.

Anatomy of Motion Picture Art should be read by all cinema-
goers. It is a true contribution toward the artistic progress of the film.

By Bryher. Price 7 shillings and 6 pence.

Being an indictment of war and the people who make it, the preface
gives food for thought : The characters and incidents in this book
are ?iot fictitious." " She is earnest to record, not to create ... it
switches swiftly and informingly from one incident or episode to
another." — MancJiester Guardian.

Gaunt Island

By Kenneth AIacpherson. Price 7 shillings and 6 pence.
Only a few copies of thi<5 book remain.

Order Form.
Please supply the following book (s) :

Gvil 1

.lans

Name (Air., Mrs. or Miss)

Address

TO POOL
RIANT CHATEAU
TERRITET
SWITZERLAND

Postal order for

Cheque
Postage on all books 6d. extra.

is enclosed

BOUND VOLUMES

of Close Up

" Reference books for the future "

Volume two (Jan. -June), bound in vellum or boards, is still
obtainable. This is a convenient form in which to have Close Upy
as it will be a reference book for the future, and single copies are
apt to be mislaid, lost or torn.

Close Up, bound in white vellum, is the ideal book for a gift or for
collectors. It is priced at 12 shillings and 6 pence.

Orange cloth-back board volumes are priced at 10 shillings.

Order Form

Please supply Close Up, Vol. 2 bound in j^f^l^^^^^^j^^j^ ^^^j^^

Name

Address

Postal Order (Vellum 12/6)

Cheque is enclosed for (Boards 10/-)

Postage on all volumes 6d. extra

Hand this form to your bookseller, or send direct to

POOL, Riant Chateau, Territet, Switzerland.

JM^oJern Books
upon all Subjects

We are pleased to send lists of books upon any
subject, or by any author, to trace half-remem-
bered titles, or to search out obscure works. We
have always an exxellent stock in the various
branches of general literature. We send books
to all parts of the world. We repair by hand old
and valued books. We bind books in every style.
We find books that are out of print. W^e stock
the best Library Editions of Standard Works.
We obtain books published in any part of the
world. We keep a good stock of Foreign Liter-
ature, and we have a special room for the Children.

You are invited to explore this old bookshop.
Assistants will be glad to answer questions and
to show you any books.

JOHN & EDWARD BUMPU5 LTD.

Booksellers to His Majesty the King

55o OXFORD 5TREET, LONDON, W.i

Telephones : Mayfair 1223, 1224, 1225

SPEND LESS

Have 'better 3YIovies

HOW much money have you spent on motion pictures
since you started the hobby ? Ever figure it up ? You
could have saved many dollars of that extra expense
if you had had expert advice about motion pictures.
The CINE-MINIATURE is the great all-movie publication
that helps you know your camera, projector and
accessories thoroughly — that shows you how to get
better movies at less expense.

The CINfi MINIATURE is just like a complete
ever-improving education in amateur motion pictures —
the twelve big issues that you get for $2*50 would
cost many times as much if they were in book form.
Movie makers everywhere are demanding The CINE-
MINIATURE because they know there is no other
publication like it. Be a movie expert yourself — have
the latest thing in movies at the least expense.

See your dealer for single copies at 25c. (1/3) ; or
send $2*50 (12/-) to the publishers for a year's subscription.

CINEMATOGRAPHIC PUBLISHERS

58 West Washington Street,
Chicago, Ilhnois, U.S.A.

FROM
FIFTY
COUNTRIES
OF
THE
WORLD
COME
MEMBERS
TO
THE

AMATEUR CINEMA

LEAGUE

AND

READERS
TO

MOVIE MAKERS

The AMATEUR CINEMA
LEAGUE, the pioneer international
organization of cine-amateurs, in-
vites your membership at Five
Dollars a year (same price all over
the world) , which includes MO VIE
MA KERS monthly. MO VIE
MAKERS, the leading journal on
amateur movie photography, is
published in English and is read
everywhere. It supplements the
technical services of the League to
amateur cinematographers.

Write for information — including a copy of MOVIE MAKERS

free — to

Amateur Cinema League Inc.

105 WEST FORTIETH STREET

NEW YORK CITY

U.S.A.

We invite you to subscribe to

The American Film Meteor

a monthly critical review of motion
pictures in general

Edited hy WALTER KRON

It is published in Hollywood, yet it views
motion pictures, not with the provincial
mind, but in the cosmopolitan manner.

Its contents are frank and learned. Our
sympathies are with the artistic craftsmen
of motion pictures, entirely.

For intellectual, stimulating reading, The
American Film Meteor is unique in the
field of motion picture publications.

$2.00 a

year

20 cents a copy

Canada

$2.50

Foreign $3.00

Send all orders to :

The ^merica7i Ft/m Jideteor

974 No. EL CENTRO AVENUE
Hollywood, California, U. S. A.

Impressed by
THE MERCURY PRESS LTD.
LONDON ILFORD CHELMSFORD

Tel.: Central 5316-7 Tel.: Ilford 2018-9 Tel. : Chelmsford 516

ENGLAND

1928

VOLKS-

FILM-VERBAND

(Volksvcrband ftir Filmkunst) V*

For only 50 Pfennig all may join the membership of the Volks-Film-Verband
People' Film Association). Entrance Fee : 50 pf. Monthly subscription 50 pfg.

Board of Directors :

Heinrich Mann, Kathe Kollwitz, Prof. Alfons Goldschmid, Erwin Piscator,
Leonhardt Frank, Dr. Max Deri, Dr. Franz Hollering, Rudolf Schwarzkopf.

Artistic Committee :

Bela Balazs, Arthur Holitscher, Karl Freund, Edmund Meisel, G. W. Pabst,
Leo Lanis, Ernst Angel, Andor Kraszna-Kraus, Franze Dyck-Schnitzer,
Viktor Blum, I. A. Hubler-Kahla.

Join the Volks-Film-Verband

All information and prospectuses from the offices of the Association, Berlin
SW. 48, Friedrichstrasse 235, or from any of the branch offices.

What the Volks-Film-Verband has to offer :

1 . Free admittance to at least ten good films per year. If the costs of the Associa-
tion are in excess of this, the member has only the difference to pay.

2. Reports and estimates to promote understanding of the problems of the film.

3. The illustrated monthly film Magazine, Film und Volk at the reduced price
of 20 Pfg. (instead of 40 Pfg.).

NOTICE OF MEMBERSHIP

To the Volksvcrband fiir Filmkunst, Berlin SW. 48, Friedrichstrasse 235.
I herewith declare my entrance into the Volksvcrband fiir Filmkunst E. V.
Enclosed is my entrance fee of 50 Pfg., and the monthly fee of not more than

50 Pfg. for months making a total of Marks, for which postal

order (cheque or stamps) is enclosed.

Orders and cheques payable to the Workers' Bank at S 14, Wallstrasse 65,
for a/c, No. 6210 (Volks-Film-Verband).

Name

Occupation

Address

yoin the film bureau

Locate and see only the
better motion pictures

Don't waste time and money seeing
the inferior, uninteresting, stupid
picture when there are really good
pictures to be seen.

Disinterested Advice from
A Discriminating Source

The Film Bureau offers its subscribers
A year's subscription (six issues) to
the Film Bulletin (a monthly guide
to the best pictures), November to
April inclusive. Complimentary and
specially priced tickets for some of
the best pictures. Privately screened
pictures. Service in arranging enter-
tainments in connection with motion
pictures. A fifty per cent discount
in renting The Bureau*s Portable
Motion Picture Machines (for private
screenings). An office information ser-
vice and special advantages when it
opens its own Little Picture House.
The subscription is ten dollars a year.

Join now. Application cards and other
data (including a complimentary copy of
the film bulletin) mailed on request

Film Bureau, 4 West 40th
Street, New York, N.Y.

" The best voice in a wilderness

of films''

That is what a New York motion picture man has said about The Film Spectator,
edited by Welford Beaton and published in Hollywood.

Now The Spectator is acclaimed by public and press and Mr. Beaton is referred to
as ** America's most discerning motion picture critic ". He tells the truth about
pictures and the people who make them with rare ability. Hundreds of heartening
fetters of commendation have been received.

Here are some of the comments :

** Read The Spectator ? Of course ! Where else could I find the same spirit of
courage, conviction, and joyous contempt for consequences ?" — SAMUEL HOPKINS
Adams.

** I read the Film Spectator with increasing interest. There is vigorous and
excellent writing in it." — H. L. Mencken.

** The Film Spectator reveals its editor as a writer of practically perfect English, and
as a man with an analytical mind, a sense of humour and a profound knowledge of the
screen." — Arthur D. Howden Smith,

" The numbers sent me confirs Mr. Ralph Flint's suggestions to me that your
magazine is truly the best voice in the wilderness of films. Not only do I find your
judgments honest, but they are penetratingly just." — Symon Gould. Executive
Director, Film Arts Guild, New York.

** I find more sound sense in what you write about the present situation than in
anything that has ever been said or written about it." — ^JOHN W. RuMSEY. (President
American Play Co. Inc., New York.

*' Welford Beaton is America's most discerning motion picture critic." — London
(England) Express.

" Welford Beaton ... a literate writer of motion picture criticism ... his
opinion has been uniformly sound." — New York World.

Subscription for one year $5.00, foreign $6.00. Single copies free on request.^*

THE FILM SPECTATOR," 7213 Sunset Blvd. Hollywood, Calif.

Please find enclosed $ for yearly subscription to ** The Film Spectator.

Name

Address

Subscription Blank

Readers are reminded that in many instances subscriptions
expire with this issue. They are cautioned to fill in this
blank immediately and either hand it to their bookseller
or send direct to either of the following addresses :

POOL

RIANT CHATEAU 24 DEVONSHIRE ST.,

TERRITET LONDON, W.C.i

SWITZERLAND ENGLAND

Kindly enter my subscription to Close Up for one year indicate
which six months.

Commencing I enclose ( cheque for

(postal order

Subscription rate (14 shillings) per year by post
(3 dollars 50)

Name

Address

LES EDITIONS

Pierre Braunberger

dans

vendent

monde

entier

films

les

meilleurs

Apef^-vous hesoin d'un conseil

ARTISTIQUE? TECHNIQUE?
COMMERCIAL ? FINANCIER ?

Nous vous mettrons en relation avec les meilleurs sp'ecialistes
du monde cinematographique

15 avenue Matignon 15

PARIS VHP

Telephone : Elysee 86-84 \

THE DIAL

A MONTHLY MAGAZINE
OF ART AND LITERATURE

FOUNDED 1880

EDITOR : MARIANNE MOORE

BY FRANCIS F. BROWNE

ADVISER : SCOFIELD THAYER

<^mong recent contributors are

W. C. BLUM
KENNETH BURKE
E. E. CUMMINGS
H. D.

FRANK DOBSON

RALPH CHEEVER DUNNING

ROGER FRY

ALYSE GREGORY

GASTON LACHAISE

MARIE LAURENCIN

D. H. LARWENCE
THOMAS MANN
PAUL MORAND
RAYMOND MORTIMER
PABLO PICASSO
PAUL ROSENFELD
GERTRUDE STEIN
PAUL VALERY

WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

. . . often full of very interesting things, and is so well printed,
and makes for good all round!' The Mask, July 1925

ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION FIVE DOLLARS

(Foreign postage 60 cents additional)

■sAddress

152 WEST 13th STREET NEW YORK

A Young Society

NEOFILM

groups young producers under
the artistic and technical direction
of Alberto Cavalcanti who
directed the 3 first Neofilm
productions

RIEN QUE LES HEURES
EN RADE

ANDRE GIDE and MARC ALLEGRETS
Travel Picture

is a Neofilm Production

YVETTE

La plus import ante revue francaise

de Qinema

La Cinematograpkie
Francaise

CHAQUE SEMAINE TOUTES LES NOUVELLES DU CINEMA

Films en Preparation
Analyses des Nouveaiix Films
Clironique de L Exploitation

a ronique rinanciere

LE5 PROGRES DE LA TECHNIQUE
LES NOUVELLES INVENTIONS

j^wvelles £ Angleterre^ Jmerique, Allemagne^ Espagne^ Italic

DIRECTEUR REDACTEUR EN CHEF : P.-A. HARLfi
5 RUE SAULNIER PARIS (9^)

Telephone : Provence 02. 13

SENSATIONAL BOOKS

42>

Anatomy of jMlotion Picture Art

By Eric Elliott, Price 6 shillings.

One would willingly pay a guinea for Anatomy of Motion Picture
Art. Mr. Elliott avoids any of the emotional rhetoric which mediocrity
seems to bring to a consideration of the movies. . . . Nearly every-
thing he says makes one pause to think." — The London Mercury.

Anatomy of Motion Picture Art should be read by all cinema-
goers. It is a true contribution toward the artistic progress of the film.

By Bryher. Price 7 shillings and 6 pence.

Being an indictment of war and the people who make it, the preface
gives food for thought : " The characters and incidents in this book
are not fictitious." " She is earnest to record, not to create ... it
switches swiftly and informingly from one incident or episode to
another." — Manchester Guardian.

Gaunt Island

By Kenneth Macphersox. Price 7 shillings and 6 pence.
Only a few copies of this book remain.

Order Form.
Please supply the following book (s) :

Civil 1,

lans

Name (Mr., Mrs. or Miss)

Address

TO POOL
RIANT CHATEAU
TERRITET
SWITZERLAND

Postal order for

Cheque
Postage on all books 6d. extra.

is enclosed.

BOUND VOLUMES

of Close Up

Reference books for the future

y f

Close Up, bound in white vellum, is the ideal book for a gift or for
collectors. It is priced at 12 shillings and 6 pence.

Orange cloth-back board volumes are priced at 10 shillings.

Order Form

Please supply Close Up, Vol. 2 bound

Name

Address

Postal Order (Vellum 12/6)

Cheque is enclosed for (Boards 10/-)

Postage on all volumes 6d. extra

Hand this form to your bookseller, or send direct to

POOL, Riant Chateau, Territet, Switzerland.

A Li5t of Books akout
Cinematograpky

The Mind and the Film : the psychological factors in the

film by G. F. Buckle 5/-

Behind the Screen by Samuel Goldwyn, illustrated 10/6

The Film, its use in popular education, by M. J. Wrigley 6/-

The Art of the Moving Picture by Vachell Lindsay 10/-

Kinematograph Studio Techique by L. C. Macbean 2/6

Practical Hints on Acting for the Cinema by Agnes Piatt 3/6

The Kinema Operators^ Handbook by W. S. Ibbetson 4/6

Popular Cinematography : the book of the Camera, by Thomas

F. Langlands 3/-

Kinematograph Year -Book 1928 10/-

Moving Pictures, how they are made and worked, by Frederick

A. Talbot 10/6

The Modern Photo-play and its construction by Golden Lore 6/-

We are pleased to send books by post to any part of the world.
Orders received by post are attended to quickly and accurately. We
are glad to send catalogues or lists of books on any subject, and to
keep you notified up to date of any new works likely to interest you.

JOHN & EDWARD BUMPU5 LTD.

Booksellers to His Majesty the King

35 o OXFORD 5TREET, LONDON, W.i

Telephone : May fair 1223

SPEND LESS

Have 'better JMovies

How much money have you spent on motion pictures
since you started the hobby ? Ever figure it up ? You
could have saved many dollars of that extra expense
if you had had expert advice about motion pictures.
The CINE-MINIATURE is the great all-movie publication
that helps you know your camera, projector and
accessories thoroughly — that shows you how to get
better movies at less expense.

The CINfi MINIATURE is just like a complete
ever-improving education in amateur motion pictures —
the twelve big issues that you get for §2*50 would
cost many times as much if they were in book form.
Movie makers ever}'where are demanding The CINE-
MINIATURE because they know there is no other
publication like it. Be a movie expert yourself — have
the latest thing in movies at the least expense.

See your dealer for single copies at 25c. (1/3) ; or
send $2*50 (12/-) to the publishers for a year's subscription.

CINEMATOGRAPHIC PUBLISHERS

58 West Washington Street,
Chicago, Ilhnois, U.S.A.

If You Are
Interested
in
Motion
Pictures

CAMERA
CRAFT

You Are
Interested
in Qood
Photog'
raphy

CAMERA CRAFT

the beautiful monthly

Covers the Whole Field of Photography

Give yourself the monthly pleasure of reading this magazine.

As a gift it brings joy into the recipient's heart and is a
reminder, twelve times a year, of your thoughtfulness.

United States and Possessions $2,00
Canada $225 < Other Foreign Countries $2.50
Sample Copy on Request

Camera Craft Publishing Company

703 MARKET STREET / SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

FROM

FIFTY

COUNTRIES

THE

WORLD

COME

MEMBERS

THE

The AMATEUR CINEMA
LEAGUE, the pioneer international
organization of cine-amateurs, in-
vites your membership at Five
Dollars a year (same price all over
the world) , which includes MO VIE
MA KERS monthly. MO VIE
MAKERS, the leading journal on
amateui movie photography, is
pubhshed in Enghsh and is read
ever3rwhere. It supplements the
technical services of the League to
amateur cinematographers .

Write for information — including a copy of MOVIE MAKERS

free— to

Amateur Cinema League Inc.

105 WEST FORTIETH STREET NEW YORK CITY U.S.A.

AMATEUR CINEMA

LEAGUE

AND

READERS
TO

MOVIE MAKERS

BEST WISHES TO CLOSE UP!

CONRAD VEIDT

Caligari

The Man Who Laughs

Impressed by
THE MERCURY PRESS LTD.

LONDON ILFORD CHELMSFORD

Tel. : Central 5316-7 Tel.: Ilford 2018-9 Tel. : Chelmsford 516

ENGLAND
1928

Important ctAnnouncement

Two further POOL books on the cinema are now
in preparation and will shortly appear.

FILM PROBLEMS ofSOFIE T R USSIA

by BRYHER, a,uthoT of Civilians, West, Delvelopment, Two Selves, etc., etc.

A wealth of information, of keen insight, criticism and comparison. The
book is a profound and earnest study which goes far beneath superficial
analysis. Its value to the student of Russian films, as well as of Russia
itself, will be supreme. The illustrations alone will make it invaluable.
You must not miss it. Price 6 shillings.

THROUGH A YELLOIF GLASS

by OSWELL BLAKESTON.

An exhaustive survey of the whole field of cinematography, especially in
relation to the studio. The only complete mine of information for the
amateur, the student, and the professional. Lighting, photography,
loading, scenario writing, editing, make up, locating, these are but a few
of the subjects dealt with. Of the greatest theoretical and practical value,
the book is written with a humorous appreciation both of the studio and
of the reader's viewpoint. The Yellow Glass, through which you judge the
actinic value of your set, has been held up by Mr. Blakeston to all possible
lights and side-lights ; sometimes with disastrous (so to speak) actinic
result, and sometimes with happy discovery. You will have to buy it
and see for yourself. Price Is. Qd.

Orders for both these books can now be taken at any of the
POOL bookshops, or at the London office, or from the publisher .

POOL Riant Chateau Territet Switzerland

London Office :

24 DEVONSHIRE STREET,
W.C.I

(For all business matters in England)
Sole American and Canadian Distributors :

THE FILM ARTS GUILD
500 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

Through whom all enquiries in America and
Canada with reference to Close Up should
be made.

E ONLY MAGAZINE DEVOTED TO FILMS
AS AN ART

Interesting and Exclusive Illustrations

THEORY AND ANALYSIS NO GOSSIP

I shilling or 5 francs (French) or i mark (German)
35 cents I fratic (Swiss) shillings (xlustrian)

. Ill No. 5 NOVEMBER 1928

NOVEMBER 1928

I Shilling
5 Francs
I Mark
35 Cents
I Franc Swiss

London Office :

24 DEVONSHIRE STREET,
W.C.I

(For all business matters in England)
Sole American and Canadian Distributors :

THE FILM ARTS GUILD
500 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

Through whom all enquiries in America and
Canada with reference to Close Up should
be made.

CLOSE UP

"VARIETES"

Revue mensuelle illustree
de Tesprit contemporain

Directeur : P. G. van Hecke

Chaque numero de VARIETES " contient :
64 reproductions— 56 pages de texte — nombreux dessins.

des contes, des essais, des poems, des notes critiques et d'actualite
sur la litterature, les arts plastiques, le cinema, le theatre, la mode,
la musique, la curiosite, etc., par de nombreux collaborateurs

les chroniques mensuelles regulieres suivantes :

Tragedies et divertissements populaires, par . . Pierre Mac Orlan
Des rues et des carrefours (lettre de Paris), par . . Paul Fierens

Le sentiment critique, par Denis Marion

La chronique des disques, par Franz Hellens

Aux soleils de minuit, par Albert Valentin

'* VARIETES " publishes every month a number of reproductions
from exclusive stills of classic and avant garde films, with criticisms
by Albert Valentin and Denis Marion.

Price de rabonnement pour douze numeros Tan :

22 belgas.

(Demandez un numero specimen gratuit)
Direction et Administration :

II AVENUE du CONGO II
BRUXELLES : BELGIQUE

CLOSE UP

Editor : K. Macpherson
Assistant Editor : Bryher

Published by POOL
Riant Chateau • Territet * Switzerland
London Office : 24 Devonshire St., W.C.i

Contents :

As Is

Film Psychology

The Cinema in Retrospect

The Querschnittfilm .

Rene Clair

Lusts of Mankind

Six Russian Films (contd.)

News Gazette .

Litterature et Film

Comment and Review

Kenneth Macpherson
Dr. Hanns Sachs
Clifford Howard
A. Kraszna Krausz
Jean Lenauer

OSWELL BlAKESTON

K.M.

Robert Herring
Freddy Chevalley

Paris Correspondents :

London Correspondent :
Hollywood Correspondent
New York Editor :
Berlin Correspondent :
Geneva Correspondent :

/Marc Allegret
\Jean Lexeur

Robert Herring
• Clifford Howard

Symon Gould

A. Kraszna- Krausz

F. Chevalley

Subscription Rates :

ENGLAND . . 14 shillings per year

FRANCE ... 70 francs per year

GERMANY . . 14 marks per year
AMERICA . . 3 dollars and 50 cents per year

CLOSE UP

Vol. Ill No. 5 November 1928

AS IS

BY THE EDITOR

The Editorial I had had in mind for this month has, I am
delighted to see (sharing my joy with those who find their
Editor's Editorials tiresome, pompous or dull) already been
done in The Cinema, I am jubilant for two reasons. The
first one is base but human, and is entirely concerned with the
saving of work. The second is because such articles, with
their safe, secure statistics, are — as the title indicates — the pin
that bursts the bubble. The fact that the bubbles to prick are
as copious as the Lux suds in which you wash your sheerest
underwear offers not discouragement but somewhat humorous
prospects.

The article is quoted here in full, together with our
congratulations to The Cinema,

THE BUBBLE BURSTS.

There comes hardly a day but the misdemeanours of some
recalcitrant juvenile are laid at the door of some inoffensive
cinema. The statistics of juvenile crime are reported to be on

CLOSE UP

an upward curve, and responsibility is traced to the coinci-
dental increase in the number of moving-picture theatres.
The statistics show a decrease, and the slowness of deprecia-
tion is blamed on the brutaHties of Beery or the machinations
of Mix. The bulging prison cells and overcrowded reforma-
tories demand an analysis. The Chief of the Police in the
Vaud department of Switzerland has just concluded such an
analysis. His results make interesting reading for the
long-faced fraternity.

For a year he investigated the cases of evildoers between
the ages of ten and twenty. Of those examined he found that
30 per cent, had never been to a cinema. These were, how-
ever, the ones who had committed the most serious offences.
Of the 70 per cent, who had frequented the picture palaces,
6 per cent, could not remember any details other than that
they had been to the pictures, 48 per cent, had only seen
documentary and topical pictures, comics and fairy fantasies,
films which are not wont to contain incitements to murder or
unchastity. Of the 80 or 90 per cent, who had been guilty of
theft, 30 per cent, had stolen in order to go to the pictures,
and the remainder for the more traditional purpose of buying
toffee or tops, 16 per cent, were found to have visited films of
doubtful morality, but they were also reported as frequenters
of dance halls of a morality even more doubtful.

M. Jaquillard, the Chief of Police, in making this report,
expresses the opinion that the cinema is one of the most useful
and beautiful of modern inventions ever bestowed on
mankind.

There is ^ psychological process known as displacement.
The cinema as an alleged cause of crime offers a convenient

CLOSE UP

displacement for the mentalities who are too lazy or too un-
equipped to think profoundly. To blame the films automati-
cally for crime and vice saves them the trouble of further
thought. But when a realist such as M. Jaquillard gets down
to concrete facts and analysis, the cloudy theories vanish as
clouds alone can do.

All of which speaks (very eloquently) for itself. Dis-
closures like this are no doubt the reason why statisticians are
so unpopular. Certainly if our cinemas are haunts of vice I
don't know what we ought to do about the censorship. For
on the one hand it is agreed the censor is something only
slightly less incorruptible than the Creator Himself, then why
does his seal of approval, signed, stamped and displayed, rest
upon films which drive the young like flocks of sheep into
penitentiaries, prisons and the hereafter ?

These statistics come from Vaud, where Close Up comes
from. Vaud is a canton, by the way, where Russian films
are not prohibited. Mothety for example, has been freely
going the rounds of late, in the same original version in
which you saw it recently (we hope) at the London Film
Society (to which heartfelt thanks). Likewise The Passion
of Joan of Arc, Expiation, and others of the same genre where
primitive passion (to coin an almost technical phrase) is seen
in its most revengeful and bloodcurdling aspects. We would
like an English and American and French and German
M. Jaquillard to make the same investigations, and prove to
us what we already know, that films stop crime, not make it,
not by influence, perhaps, but by the very fact of giving young
people something to occupy their minds and time.

CLOSE UP

Thirty per cent, stole, we learn, in order to go to the cinema.
No need for a long face here. I believe, quite honestly, I
might have been tempted to do so myself when young if no
means had been forthcoming. For the kind of morality in
question here is the purely arbitrary code invented by adults
for mutual convenience, the economical advantages and
reasons for which would hardly be likely to impress a child
who wanted at the time something far more advantageous and
convenient. This is certainly no reason against the cinema.
Rather it is propaganda for cinema. If children want it so
much a system whereby they can have it should be evolved.

Yet what do we have instead? Massed educational
authorities attempting to coerce the censor into making all
films illegal to children. When actually it is the educational
authorities themselves who are entirely to blame.

Kenneth Macpherson.

FILM PSYCHOLOGY

The plot, whether of a novel, play or film, consists of
closely interwoven psychological coherencies. The film can
be effective only in so far as it is able to make these psycho-
logical coherencies visible ; in so far as it can externalise and
make perceptible — if possible in movement — invisible inward
events.

CLOSE UP

Psychic events are most freely outwardly perceptible when
mirrored in facial expression. The obvious procedure for the
film, therefore, was to build itself up upon the actor's power
of facial expression. This procedure soon demonstrated its
futility ; for man expresses his emotions and passions far
more powerfully and explicitly by word of mouth than by
movement and facial expression. The film that is built up on
mimicry is simply dumb-show, pantomime, an absurd hybrid
powerless either to reproduce or to develop itself. What,
then, can we substitute for these so severely limited mimetics ?
To make human beings artificially dumb is not the proper
business of the film, but things are dumb and we do not need
to close their mouth by force if we are able to make them
express psychic acts, which find their outlet through them,
around them, or because of them.

This is amply demonstrated by the modern films in which
the Russians, and notably Eisenstein in Panzerkreuzer
Potemkin, have gone furthest and most successfully.

Mimetic expression is here only one amongst many means
of enhancing an effect already created from another source.
The actor stands on an equality with inanimate things. Like
them, he can embody the movement of the drama ; but only so
far as his embodiment is of such psychic events as are before
or beyond speech ; by this means reflexes — and, above all,
those small unnoticed ineptitudes of behaviour described by
Freud as symptomatic actions become the centre of mterest.

According to Freud these so small, and in themselves so
trivial and insignificant movements — as, for example, the
dropping or losing of an object, the thoughtless toying with
some small article, the forgetting or omitting of some action

< 9

CLOSE UP

usually carried out with mechanical ease — are in the highest
degree indicative of the inner experiences of the subject, of
his desires and emotions, and exactly of those desires and
emotions of which he himself is unaware. Accepting the
inherent conditions of the technique of cinematography, all
discriminating producers have used details of this kind as
indispensable means of expression : most of them, certainly,
without having the smallest theoretical knowledge of their
actual significance.

The agreement existing between the artists and poets of all
periods and the principles of psycho-analysis has long been
known to us, and it is not at all surprising that the film, after
its own fashion, should take over and carry on the great
tradition.

1. Panzerkreuzer Potemkin.

A friend who had just seen Eisenstein's film for the third
or fourth time, explained to me that at one point in the repre-
sentation he had been very strongly moved without being able
to discover what it was that had moved him. On each
occasion this experience came to him at the moment when, by
the captain's command, the sail-cloth is being carried on
board. In the midst of this operation the head of the fugle-
man of the guard called up for the shooting emerges clearly
for a moment, turned to watch. This watching head seems to
have no particular expression, and any expression it might
bear would, owing to the fractional time during which it
appears in the picture, be lost upon the spectator.

As my friend is a particularly intelligent and experienced
film-professional, I felt urged to discover the solution of the

CLOSE UP

■ riddle, and when next I saw the film I paid particularly close
attention to the scene that had so profoundly impressed him
and that vet in itself seemed so slight and so incidental. Pic-
ture the situation : on the one hand the guard standing to
attention, firm, stern, mechanised by discipline — on the other
the sailors driven hither and thither in the maze of the conflict-
ing emotions of rage, despair and long-practised obedience.

When the captain has the sail-cloth brought along, tension
rises to its height and our sympathies are concentrated upon
the question as to which will be the stronger, human pity or
the force of discipline. Will the guard shoot or refrain?
When at this moment one of the guard — whom so far we have
considered as a creature bereft of individuality by drilling, a
mere mechanically functioning unit — is dissociated from the
group and, by means of a movement (independent and not
dictated by discipline), by looking round at the sail-cloth as
it is being carried past, betrays, however slightly, his char-
acter of a human-being involved in the proceedings, our
question begins to be answered. We know that even the
guard, in its totality an unfeeling machine, is made up of men
capable of sympathy, and we begin to hope.

In order to produce this moment of extreme tension it was
of the highest importance that the transformation should
appear suddenly and unexpectedly at the moment of greatest
danger, at the sounding of the word of command : fire. Only
thus could come about the powerful release carrying each
spectator along W'ith it. But for this operation, sudden only
in its arrival, the spectator's mind must be cunningly pre-
pared. Something within him must have desired, surmised,
anticipated an event which otherwise would remain outside

CLOSE UP

him, strange, a rescue from the clouds, the work of a deus ex
machina. The sense of a strong psychic release is to be
attained only in the case of a sudden ending of a painful
to-and-fro between hope and fear. The onlooker must
anticipate the turn of affairs without himself being aware of
his anticipation. This suddenly seen head of the leader of the
guard is to be counted amongst the things that assist his
unconscious expectation. Certainly only a few of the millions
who have seen Potemkin will have even noted the movement
of the head, but upon all it will have worked as powerfully as
upon mv friend. The film is thus revealed as a kind of time-
microscope, that is to say, it shows us clearly and unmistak-
ably things that are to be found in life but that ordinarily
escape our notice.

2. Mutter, by Pudowkin.

Here, too, everything turns upon the effectual preparation
of a moment of tension. The son is in prison, the mother
hopes to hand him secretly, during the visitors' hour, a scrap
of paper which will show him the way to freedom. The two
are talking to each other through a grille and the mother's
attention is concentrated upon smuggling the paper into her
son's hands unnoticed by the authorities. Two officials are
present. From one, seated near her at a table, she has noth-
ing to fear. He is fulfilling the duty of all overseers : he is
asleep ! But on the other side of her stands with stiffly-
planted gun the guard who brought her son to the meeting-
place and will take him away again : a yokel with expression-
less features who, for lack of something more interesting to

CLOSE UP

contemplate, stares steadily at the floor. Now the direc-
tor might create the sense of tension by allo\ying the
mother to make seyeral attempts to pass the paper through
the grille, and in each case to draw back her hand. This
effect he might heighten by close-ups of the hand. But he
has invented a far more ingenious method. Near the guard
stands a bowl of milk, and here a subject is introduced
which draws the guard's attention. A cockroach has
crawled into it and is trying to get out again. The guard
sees it just as it is reaching the end of its eft'orts, the safe rim
of the bowl. Grinning, he extends a finger and pushes it back
again and while this happens the mother pushes the scrap of
paper into her son's hand. Here the tension is enhanced by
means of shifting it to a secondary incident, to something
apparently trivial and of no consequence upon which yet
hangs the life of a man. And how ingeniously is the incident
devised ! It gives us a complete miniature of the horrible
conditions of prison life, where food is befouled and infected ;
it also repeats, as if accidentally, the main movement of the
drama : here, as there, we are faced by a prisoner who strives
to free himself and is thrust back. But that which brings
destruction to the one is to the other the first step towards
freedom. Here we have not only a contrast, but at the same
time a presentiment. The son has fallen into hands from
which there is no rescue, hands which pitilessly push back
him who thought himself already rescued. Thus is this
episode a prelude, for the son falls later under the bullets of
the soldiers just as he has escaped from prison. But the
relationship of the two episodes goes even deeper. It reaches
to a depth where not the intelligence but only the feeling of the

CLOSE LP

onlooker can follow. The milk symbolises the mother in its
character of being her first and most important gift to her
child, a gift linking together forever the giver and the
receiver.

The insect drowned in the milk indicates not only that there
is to be for the son no escape, but also that he will die, not in
the harsh besoiled prison, but as a free man in the arms of his
mother. Thus, through a mere piece of by-play is the deep
intrinsic emotional value of this work of art both epitomised
and anticipated.

3. Drei Frauen, by Lubitsch.

A young worldling has become, for the sake of her money,
the lover of an elderly woman. Having achieved his expect-
ations he no longer considers it worth w^hile to go on convinc-
ing her of his love. She has no suspicions, refuses to have
any, and perpetually offers herself to the reluctant lover. The
situation is delicate, one not easy to represent even upon the-
stage; upon the film, where things appear without the
mitigating veil of words, in all their brutal reality, its repre-
sentation would appear to be an insoluble problem. How has
the producer found it possible to film this situation without
sacrificing anything of its poignancy ?

The two are sitting side by side upon a sofa. The woman
leans against the man, caresses him, toys with his clothing.
She flings her arms round his neck. Playfully she plucks at
his tie and at last draws it out so that it hangs over his waist-
coat. The man restores it to its place and is once more
irreproachably correct.

CLOSE UP

In this case the representation is simple and short. There
is no question of creating a tension, only of making the in-
expressible expressible by means of displacement on to a
small incidental action. The woman says : " Undress
yourself and the man I don't want to but the treat-
ment is so contrived that both can act as if the behaviour of
the other were simply the playfulness of idle fingers. The
man does not choose to understand what the woman wants,
the woman will not see that the man does not choose to under-
stand, but the onlooker gives to the little episode its true value
and knows in a moment more than could be revealed to him
by means of a long caption. For him the proceedings are
clear enough, and this displacement " is exactly one of
those means of expression, to which Freud first called atten-
tion, used by the unconscious everywhere, for instance, in
dreams and in jest, to elude conscious recognition. The film
seems to be a new wav of driving mankind to conscious
recognition.

In his Traiimdeiitung, page 263, Freud gives an explanation
of the symbolic meaning of the tie, which, certainly, neither
the onlookers of the film, nor the director, who created it,
knew. But, all the same, it fits exactly into the thinly-veiled
meaning of the " slip action

Hanns Sachs.

CLOSE UP

THE CINEMA IN RETROSPECT

Being the recollections of a primeval scenario writer.
By Clifford Howard

Part I

American cinema history is divided into two eras, B.H.
and A.H. — Before Hollywood and After Hollywood. Those
w^hose association with the movies dates back to the first era,
the era of the primeval, must be reckoned among the
patriarchs. By a margin of three or four years I find myself
included in this venerable class. I am entitled to the badge
of old-timer. It may not avail much in this day of the
sovereignty of youth and novelty, but, if anyone will listen,
it does carry with it the privilege of saying to the present
cinema generation, I can remember when — " and then
babbling about the old pioneer picture days before the inven-
tion of the close-up, the cut-back, or the fade-out ; when the
nickelodeon, a converted store-room furnished with wooden
chairs, was the only form of picture theatre ; when nobody
of breeding would openly attend such a place, and when no
self-respecting actor would permit it to be publicly known
that he was working in the movies.

Even a self-respecting author in those remote days, if he
would retain the confidence of his friends and admirers, spoke

The deaf gentleman sits oblivious of the scene raging just behind him.

Rene Clair (right) with his operator and assistant Georges Lacombe
on location iov Les Deux Timides.

Rene Clair instructing Batcheff for the scene shown in the following

still.

Interesting sketches made at the Elstree studios bv Stella Burford.
The above shows the " mercury banks " on an hotel set for A Kmght
in London, directed by Lupu Pick and photographed by Carl Freund.

The interior of the "Piccadilly'' set. Painters and plasterers at
work. Sketch by Stella Burford.

From Thziesz Racqui}:, Jacques Feyder's film for first ZSational.

CLOSE UP

softlv of writing scenarios. If he was caught at it, he passed
it oft as a joke ; treating his undignihed work as a trifling side
issue, done just for the fun of it — merely curious to see how a
Httle story dashed off at an odd moment would look in the
" flickers ".

I don't mind admitting that it was in something of this
patronizing spirit that I wrote and submitted my first contri-
bution to the screen, about twenty years ago. Befittingly
enouo'h, it was a comedv, a " soHt-reel comedv entitled
The Woman in the Case. At tliat time there were perhaps
eight or ten producing companies in the field — such as they
were — most of them located in New York, with one or two in
New Jersev, and each consisting of a single unit of stock
plavers. Of this aggregation I selected Vitagraph as the one
most likelv to be interested in my little oft'ering. The choice
proved a happy one. The script was promptly accepted, and
I received for it the tidy consideration of ten dollars.

This maiden effort, consisting of some twenty scenes, was
distinctly a home-made product. I had never seen a scenario ;
I had not the faintest conception of its anatomy. There was
none within reach anywhere in California, where I was then
alreadv living. The first picture company was not to arrive
in Los Angeles until a year later. Consequently I had no
wav of securing a specimen scenario nor consulting anyone
connected with the movies. None of my literary acquaintances
had ever even so much as heard of writing motion-picture
stories, and moreover were quite uppish at the mention of such
a thing. I was therefore left wholly to my own ingenuity,
aided by a study of such films as I occasionally sneaked in to
see at a dingy nickelodeon down on ]\Iain Street.

CLOSE UP

As a matter of fact, as I learned afterwards, there was at
that time no estabhshed form of scenario wTiting:, and
apparently the technique I devised proved as practical as anv
that the earlv companies were then using. Sometime later,
however, while waiting for the screen appearance of mv
]]^omau in the Case, I came across the advertisement of an
enterprising New York cameraman, offering a complete set of
instructions in the mysteries of scenario writing. Price, ten
cents. For this modest outlay he guaranteed to reveal
everything, including a complete copy of his own scenario
masterpiece in eighteen scenes, which had been filmed bv one
of the biggest motion picture companies in the world.

This valuable guide consisted of a four-page leaflet, and,
true to its promise, contained a full and exhaustive exposition
warranted to fit anyone to become a successful scenarist.

Xo literary skill required. Plumbers, stenographers,
laundry workers are getting as high as fifteen dollars apiece
for good plots. Why not you?"

Naturally, this was most encouraging. I had a barrelful of
good plots designed for magazine stories, and I could cer-
tainly spare a few of them for this easv method of picking up
some ready change. So, prompted by my initial success, I
wrote another comedy, done according to the formula set
forth in the leaflet. It was called An L njortunate Santa Claus
— the story of a kindlv gentleman who undertook on Christ-
mas Eve to creep into the house of two very poor but very
proud maiden ladies, and there secretly and anonymously
deposit on the hearth in imitation of Santa Claus several
packages of nice warm underclothing. To make sure that it
would be recognised as a comedy, I got the kind-hearted

CLOSE UP

o-entleman into a most embarrassino' situation bv tlie sudden
and unexpected return of the two prim virgins.

I thought it was funnier than anything" I had yet seen at my
favorite nickelodeon. But apparently it was not so good as
my first effort. Perhaps I suffered under the handicap of not
being a plumber or something. At anv rate, I was not only
obliged to submit it to four companies before landing it, with
Pathe Freres, but, also, I got onlv eight dollars for it.

Nothing daimted, however, I continued to dallv with this
lowborn pastime, selling funnv stories first to one companv
and then another ; egged on perhaps bv a vague prescience
that the movies were destined to amount to something and
by a sneaking conceit that mv contributions might prove a
Nmall help toward that end. As film productions these early
contributions of mine were all anonvmous, of course. Nobody
in those days, from director down, got any screen credit — if
credit is the right word to use — so that I felt perfectly safe in
indulging in this then unseemlv btisiness.

After having qualified as a split-reel comedy scenarist, I
tried my hand at a drama, and had the good fortune to sell it
at the top price of fifteen dollars to D. W. Grifiith, then the
presiding genius of Biograph. At that time, however, he
was known as Lawrence Grifiith. He was an actor bv pro-
fession, with a burning ambition to become a dramatist ; and
so, forced by temporary financial reverses to direct pictures
for a living, he was hiding his identity under an assumed
name. He could not afford to jeopardize his legitimate career.

I have forgotten the name of my Biograph story. It
contained, if I remember correctly, about forty-five scenes;
enough for a maximum-length film, about nine hundred or a

CLOSE UP

thousand feet. Like many another of mv earlv movie con-
iribuiions, I nevtr ^a\v it in its screen translation. I either
missed it when it was in Los Angeles, or it mav never have
been shown here. \o one was supposed to be interested in,
or even know anything about, any particular forthcoming
him. There were no cinema advertisements, no publicitv
news item.s. no advance notices of an\- kind for the information
of ni<~)vie patrons.

It ! >nf wanted lu see a particular iilm, it was whollv a matter
of haA'ini^' the good luck to drop in at a picture show on thtr
daA ir happened t(» be running there. Programs were
changt^d dailA . The film companies coilectivelv were grind-
ing our t-nough material to keep the exhibitor well supplied.
A comedy could be made in a dav or a dav and a half. A
full-lengtli drama ordinarily required about three da\-s. Such
of the moire pretentious companies as specialised in big
stuff " were averaging two such pictures a week. The
exhibitor, therefore, with an ample suj^plv of fresh films at
his command, was quite ablf to offer a daily change of cinema
fare, wuh a prijgram of from four to six pictures, varving in
length and diversity from a four-hundred-foot chase
comedv to a \A>stern thriller of a thousand feet.

\\^ith an occasional full-reel classic, like Evangeline or
King Lear, thrown in for polite balance, there is no denying
that this was a gener<jus lot of entertainment for a nickel (five
cents \ to saA' nothing of the continuous performance of a
mechanical piano, which, with its electrical motor, thumped
our rhe iaresr popular airs — not as an appropriate accompani-
ment to the pictures, to be sure, but solely as a gratuitous
incidental diversion.

CLOSE L P

It is quite possible that this forgotten Biograph drama of
mine may have been honored with the presence of ]\lary
Pickford in the cast. Then a girl of about seventeen, she had
recently joined the company. It was her initial venture into
the movies, after quite an extensive stage experience, begin-
ning at the baby age of live years. I saw her in her first
picture, The Violin Maker of Cremona. This was in 1909.
Of course, at the time I did not know who she was. And
neither did anyone else outside of her acquaintances who
happened to see the film and recognise her. The players'
names were never published. It was not personal modesty
that was responsible for this — merely professional self-respect,
or self-protection. One of the foremost theatrical producers
of the time had given notice that we would blacklist any actor
found working in pictures ; and other producers, while not so
drastic about it, were nevertheless none too kindlv disposed
toward those of the legit " who flirted with the outcast
movies.

Therefore, the ambitious Gladvs Smith, jealous of her stage
record and her stage future, took pains not to have it known
that she had temporarily descended to the flickers. To this
end the name Marv Pickford served as a concealment — a
pretty nam de guerre which David Belasco had a short while
before suggested for this Canadian lass of the golden curls ;
and so definitely did the name Pickford become associated
with her, that it was later adopted by the rest of the Smith
family — the mother, Charlotte, and the sister and brother,
Lottie and Jack.

As the movies developed, which they actually did in spite of
everything, the situation of the scenario writer hkewise

CLOSE UP

improved. There was an increasing demand for better story
material. Higher prices were offered for big stories, stories
suitable for the big, two-reel master productions which were
now coming into vogue.

Griffith, I believe, was the first American director to turn
out a two-reeler. This was after he had come to California.
He wanted to do Enoch Arden, and do it on a fitting scale.
The story had already been filmed several times, under various
titles, but never beyond the thousand-foot limit. Griffith felt
that it deserved more footage, and he accordingly took up
with the business office the question of making it in two reels.
The business office staggered under the blow of this sugges-
tion. A two-reel picture? Never! Nobody would sit
through a picture that long I After much argument a com-
promise was reached. The picture would be made in two
parts; part one to be shown on ^londay, and part two on
Thursday. These were the weekly release days for Biograph
films.

It was a momentous experiment. The exhibitors, like the
business office, were wholly dubious. Movie patrons wanted
their pictures short and snappy, with no hang-overs. How-
ever, this two-part Enoch Arden proved an overwhelming
success. Those who saw the first reel on ]^Ionday flocked
back eagerly on Thursday to see the second. And when the
film was subsequently run, on trial, in its entirety at one
showing, the response proved equally enthusiastic and carried
with it, moreover, the encouraging assurance that the crowds
were quite capable of keeping their attention fixed on a single
picture for twenty-five minutes.

CLOSE UP

Incidentally, I recall that the character of the nurse in this
film epic was Jeanie ]\Iacpherson, who was later to join the
ranks of scenario writers and become the author of such mam-
moth productions as The Ten C ommandments and The King
of Kings. Had the prospect of such productions been
presented to the business managers of Enoch Arden the effect
would undoubtedly have been paralysing, if not fatal.

When the film companies, drawn by the lure of sunshine
and a semi-tropical cHme, began coming to Southern
California, about eighteen years ago, they settled in various
and scattered parts of Los Angeles. There was at first little
or no communitv spirit among them. On the contrary, they
brought with them a good deal of unfriendlv rivalrv and
mutual antagonism. But in time, following the lead of
Universal, and Christie Brothers, and influenced perhaps by
the geniality of the climate, they adopted Hollywood, the
northwestern section of Los Angeles, as a common location
for their studios, and thus sowed the seed of the formal busi-
ness association that now^ binds them together in one general,
harmonious body, under the title of the ^lotion Picture
Producers and Distributors of America.

With the immigration to California, production activities
increased, business expanded, the pictures themselves grew
more promising, the identity of the actors came out of
obscurity, popular stage players took fliers " in the movies
without disguise or apologies, and the conservative public,
which had hitherto been indifferent or downright scornful,
began to manifest an indulgent interest.

This rising tide of distinction carried the scenario writer
along wath it, and he, too, now took on a bit of dignity, as

CLOSE UP

well as added importance. While still outside the pale of
letters, he was no longer painfully self-conscious. His craft
gave promise of developing into a worthy profession. The
studios were becoming more and more dependent upon him
for needed picture stories and his specialised skill in preparing
continuity for the use of directors. Better prices for his work
also added to his satisfaction. In a spectacular bid for the
best scenario brains, Universal was offering a flat rate of
tw^enty-five dollars a reel, or seventy-five dollars for a full-
length feature picture. All in all, the outlook of the humble
scenarist was decidedly rosy in those primitive Hollywood
days.

Bv 1914 there were probably a hundred or more acknow-
ledged scenario writers in Southern California ; and it occurred
to some of us old-timers that the time was ripe for an associa-
tion. Accordingly, the Photoplay Authors League came into
being. In order that it should be more or less exclusive and
at the same time truly representative of the craft, membership
was limited to those who had at least ten produced scripts to
their credit. Among the forty original members were Anita
Loos, D. W. Griffith, Lois Weber (already at that time a
director, as well as the author of her film stories), Clarence
Badger (later a director and now identified with Clara Bow's
pictures), Thomas Ince, Wallace Reid and Frank E. Woods.

Woods was elected president, not only in recognition of his
record as the foremost pioneer scenario writer, but also
because of his rank as the first American motion-picture
reviewer and critic. As a staff contributor to the Dramatic
Mirror, under the pseudonym of The Spectator, he had begun
the reviewing of pictures as far back as 1908. This was an

CLOSE UP

unprecedented venture. Xo periodical or newspaper at that
time was paying the sHghtest attention to the movies. Indeed,
there was a prevaihng rule among publications that any
reference on the part of a writer to this cheap, bourgeois stuff
should be blue-pencilled.

But Frank Woods, with more vision than his contempora-
ries, succeeded in inducing the Dramatic Mirror to run his
film reviews. And thus was inaugurated, under protest and
with prophecies of a speedy discontinuance through lack of
public interest, an innovation which not only survived in this
particular publication, but which to-day has become an
established feature of newspapers and magazines the world
over, to say nothing of the scores of periodicals devoted
exclusively to the discussion of the once no-account and
disdained movies.

{To he continued.)

THE QUERSCHNITTFILM*

There is nothing more human than catchwords. In the
mouth of their creator they reveal the sudden consciousness
of presentiment. In the mouth of those who repeat them,
parrot-like, they conceal the everlasting mindlessness of the
hum-drum day. A slogan is something akin to style.

''' Literally the Cross-cut Film The meaning is, however, a film
composed of pieces cut from other films. (Ed.)

CLOSE UP

Firstly : necessary expression of the intended meaning.
Secondly : an easy formula for tried effects. Slogan, or style
— are used; they please.

Thus we repeatedly hear the word : Conciseness. The
desire for it originated from the rate at which present-day life
is lived. The frequent request : cut it short. We have
experienced this with starchy gentlemen who sit behind
voluminous writing desks. And it goes even further, we
experience it in our family, our private life, our newspaper,
our literature, our art. Be brief. Cut out superfluous sen-
tences, don't be stilted. Sav things that matter. Call a
spade a spade. Say how a thing happened and not what the
colour of the sky was at the time. That something happened
to someone and not what you think of it. To whom it hap-
pened, that is the most important point. Date of birth,
religion, single or married, previous convictions if any,
cherchez la jemme, what colour is your hair?

Novels have a considerably less sale than memoirs of
important people. In Russia, you are probably aware, there
is a young, fresh, serious-minded population very keen on
reading. The Russians Kuleschov, Pudowkin, Timo-
schenko, have so far written the most positive books on the
aesthetics of the film. The dry collections of anecdotes about
Douglas Fairbanks or Harry Piel are nevertheless sold by
the hundred thousand. They are cheap. Both in price and
contents. There are some in more pretentious make-up. But
I do not know one which has yet related something new, illus-
trative, plastic. Their language remains as unfigurative as
most of the inserted full-length portraits are lifeless. That
is why I often wished to see film artists' biographies produced

CLOSE UP

on the screen. At last one has made its appearance : " Henny
Porten, Life and Career of a Film Artist."

A Ufa Film after the ideas of Dr. Oscar Kalbus. A
" Querschnitt " embracing 40 roles played by Henny Porten.
Through twenty long years. From 1909 to 1928. Seven
chapters are reeled off. Primitive excitement. Sentimental
novel-like happenings. Gav plavfulness. Costume plays.
The great comedies. Dual roles. The tragic heroine.
Sometimes seriously, sometunes ironically accompanied by
musical renderings of popular airs from the various periods
of her artistic career. The orchestra plavs very softly whilst
Dr. Kalbus holds forth. Anecdote, biography, revealing,
fundamental.

So the film rolls on. Twentv film vears flow by us. Not
rehashed, copied, but in natura. So thev were, so they are.
Ridiculous, helpless, groping, ambitious, genial, erring,
compressed. Twenty years of film acting. They have never
been so tersely put to us as here, netted in the short space of
two hours.

We owe Dr. Kalbus thanks for his idea, for his pioneer
work. If our thanks is accompanied by our criticism, he can
estimate how seriously his work is taken.

Let us first talk about Henny Porten.

She is the most popular film actress in Germany. Possibly
like Alary Pickford in America. One of the few, very few,
whose name is a sure box office draw. People know her, they
have become used to her, have loved her : for twenty years
past. It is like a long marriage. A marriage between her
and a generation of the German people. The new arrivals

CLOSE UP

and the strangers will find a lot of things they will not under-
stand. To be in love on one's silver wedding day seems silly,
simulated, w^anting in taste — for the outsider. They ought
to be ashamed of themselves — sav these youngsters, not know-
ing that the eyes which have been looking out on the world
for twenty years do not see the present but the past, a past
agelessly idealised.

Naturally, Henny Porten could dispense with all that. I
wall not say that she w^as successful in attaining the fashion-
able boyish figure through sport, but she has certainly grown
younger. That seems to be due to cosmetics, to improved
resources. To technique, to routine.

She — the daughter of one of the earliest film directors —
made use of everv opportunity to turn cinematographic pro-
gress to her own advantage. It is interesting to see how-
frequently she played opposite people who later on became
prominent ; voung, new, clumsy figures, such as Abel,
Bassermann, Deutsch, Dieterle, Hartmann, Jannings,
Kastner, Kloepfer, Kortner, Krauss, Liedke, Loos, Schiinzel,
Steinriick. After presenting brief examples of theatrical
gesticulation and grotesque prancing, she soon learns self-
assurance. She takes time to develop tragic plays, and if in
a gay mood allows nobody to spoil it.

Now arises the eternal question. Has she become an
interpreter of tragedy or of farce. Dr. Kalbus is at one with
Henny Porten's ow^n opinion, and emphasises her successes
in the former sphere. How^ever, if he gives as the main proof
of his opinion, scenes which actually represented unhappy
personal adventures of the actress, they are weapons which
backfire on their users. There is, indeed, none among her

CLOSE UP

tragic roles of which the power has not been diminished by
time, whilst her comic parts have decidedly lost far less of their
effectiveness. Her talents are not sufficiently original to be
tragic. She relies too much on experience. This experience
leads to a deliberate lengthiness, to intermittent playing, to
rhetorical pauses in the serious scenes; but to an ensured
bearing, to a ready resourcefulness, and power of improvisa-
tion in the farcical ones. The thing which leads to indirect
action in the lirst instance assures directness in the second.
The method which helps comedy is detrimental to tragedy.

The most enduring performances of Henny Porten lie in a
special type of comedy : in her dual roles. A form of film
acting for which (at least in German}^) she greatly deserves
thanks. Dr. Kalbus knew quite well how to explain this
success. According to him it rests on effect and counter-
effect, like the beautiful and the ugly — an effect similar to that
produced by the original substance of films (or should we say
photography), with light and shade, black and white con-
trasts, peculiar to them. Henny Porten was possibly the first
film actress with sufficient courage to make use of this ugli-
ness. Dr. Kalbus says here with astute understanding, that
the pluck to be ugly originates in a longing for beauty. It
serves for emphasizing beauty. In no film has a beautiful
w^oman been seen as merely ugly right to the end. Neither
Henny Porten nor her successors. They understand, she
understood, how to become beautiful gradually, to prepare the
way for beauty.

But more important than such theory is the practice :
Kohloesels Toechter {Kohloesels^ Daughters). A film dating
iDack to 1919. Its idea has been repeated since not merely

CLOSE UP

once, but very often, yet without ever equalling the original,
far less surpassing it. I believe it was her best work.

Judging the best performance appears to be the most
ticklish problem confronting the authors of biographies of
living persons. In this screened biographv it is especialh'
so.

A filmed sketch of this kind has. got to have some basis of
construction, even if no actual plot. In spite of this the
public has got to be roped in, kept in hand, led on, a career
has to be shown, interest maintained, a finale is to be provided.
As far as this is concerned, the chronological moment comes
into the picture only too readily. However fascinating it
may be, it is also shallow, unreliable and disappointing. Dr.
Kalbus has only followed in wake of it. As a first attempt
everybody else would have done the same, and like Dr. Kalbus
have been led astray by the result — a result which is even
tainted with a suspicion of insincerity. If the Ufa film which
was produced during this season is to be lauded as the acme
of what Henny Porten can do, and if it is to be regarded as a
summary of the whole, some members of the audience will
sneer a little and not without reason.

Not unjustifiably, doubts arise in connection with the
commercial aspects. The critic is not in a position to survey
the matter fully, and that is why, in any event, he will ask is
this reallv all, also is this the right material to show as repre-
sentative of Flenny Porten? Have they not paid too much
attention to the viewpoint of competitors ? The world is so
evil and so distrustful of the film industry. We will, how-
ever, charitably assume that Dr. Kalbus has made his selec-
tion to the best of his knowledge and ability. We will grant

CLOSE LP

that the material to be treated was very difficult, verv old
material mdeed, which has caused great trouble in compila-
tion. A filmed sketch is not a book which can re-issue the
same story over and over again. In this instance of a film
biography, every word, every picture has to be searched for,
dug out of original roles, and brought to light, and cannot
be repeated or copied anew. Here there are difficulties,
conditions, possibilities, which were hitherto unknown.

Yes, what possibilities.

P^rst of all, a certain objectivity. Something describes
itself. The living picture describes the living picture. In
the same wav as the work of a painter interprets him in an
exhibition or the verses of a poet in an anthologA . There are
limits in this to the chance of under and over-statement. In
contrast to cases w here one would try, for example, to express
one's opinion of an author bv means of music, or one's opinion
of a sculptor m verse, or of a film in literary essays, as so
often happens. This time it is not indirect but direct comment
and quotation made.

Now we know, too, that we need not be afraid of this
objectivity. We can quote in manv ways. There is no con-
vention governing the selection of sentences Cjuoted, or the
choice of the picture. One can string them together and
justify their sequence at will. One can curtail them, regen-
erate their content, give them different shape, turn them
upside down, quite at will. In what measure Dr. Kalbus has
made use of these liberties does not greatly matter. But thev
can be made use of in the widest degree. One need not
merely make fresh plots from genuine biographies, or serious

CLOSE UP

essays from old films, but also from sensational disclosures,
satirical reports, severe caricatures, libellous pamphlets.

Furthermore, in film biography talking is possible, even
allowed, both in titles and in words. If anywhere, assuredly
here. The question whether films should be strewn with sub-
titles is just as debatable as whether novels should be illus-
trated with pictures. But just as journalistic reporting is
undisputably allowed its explanatory illustrations, so
reporting films must be also granted the explanatorv assist-
ance of the spoken word. It should be said here that Dr.
Kalbus has taken this into account with balance, good taste
and skill.

Repeatedly one had to sit up and take notice of his
stimulating words, but there was also good reason to be
startled when he spoke of the development of the film from
Piffle to Art.

I do not venture to decide whether he was right in his proud
reference to this development, that is to say, whether we reallv
mav look back on these twenty years from such a high
pedestal. If we may we shall have to accept the theorv that
between piffle and art, there are merely differences of exterior,
make up, technique, but no differences of substance. Because
—it is painful to confess — onl\' the very first ones have altered
in the sequence of the examples given. Gesticulation has
become more subdued. The monocled dudes rarer. The
casual pawnshop inventory has been hunted out of drafted
plans. The lighting attempts to adapt itself to a certain
naturalness. The photography strives after effects of its own.
The Direction breaks up the scene into more and more pic-
tures, gets nearer to the objects, and gets landed all too soon

CLOSE LI

in a super film. But as for the rest, the subject which yester-
day was garbed primitively and is to-day dressed in modern
fashion can hardly belie its past. Just wait I If I tell you
that Henny Porten takes in one film the murderer of her
brother as a lover, and if she in another film marries the
brother of her seducer, can you with any degree of certainty
tell me w^hich one of these two subjects belongs to 1917 and
which to 1927? No, these human frailties have shown but
little improvement in these last twenty vears. If Dr. Kalbus
speaks of the development from piffle to art, he either shares
the view that quality is a problem of the " How " alone, or
else he has made a mistake in his valuation of the latest
developments.

However, before we decide about far-reaching effects, it
would perhaps be better to admit that Henny Porten's lif-
and career have been selected as a starting point for biograph-
ical excursions into the land of cinema history, for the reasoij
that the widest public interest in her personality promised a
favourable economic funding for this experiment. Not,
however, that one should imagine that the development and
the present position of film art should be demonstrated most
aptlv by her power curve.

Henny Porten is a star. She has been one from the begin-
ning. Have I to explain what that means? At least, then,
that she stands in the foreground uninterruptedly. That her
greatness fills the canvas. That her playing outdoes that of
the others, that her inclinations, her taste, ambition, will,
style, have a more decisive effect than these qualities in her
fellow actors, in the architects, the photographers and the
Directors. We see here primarily Henny Porten films, and

CLOSE UP

only secondarily 1909 films, 1914, 1923 or 1928 films. These
figures which one can gather from the different scenes, camera
and decorative work, remain after all something incidental,
immaterial, a mere background. The lessons thev teach are
too sporadic and do not justify methodical deductions.

But it is just these which would be the most vakiable.
Lessons on the development of the scenic play, courage to
utilise those lessons, mobility, cutting. The Development
of Film Art ]\lade Visible as Dr. Kalbus would have it,
but could not have it in the case of Henny Porten, with a

Porten Carnival ". " My hat off to you, Madame, my hat
oft' to you. Monsieur." We will take leave of her, and will
hope to see him again.

A. Kraszxa-Krausz.

RENE CLAIR

A few days ago I found myself in a somewhat embarrassing
situation. Close Up had applied to me for photographs of
the Chapeaii de FaiUe d'Halie, and also of Rene Clair's
newlv-finished film, Les deux Timides. In vain I searched
for comic stills, for stills that should be brilliant demonstra-
tions of Clair's peculiar comedic power. Xot one did I find,
and presently I realised that there were none to be found that
could give any idea of his work. For the keen, mordant wit
of Rene Clair's satires and comedies is purely cinemato-
graphic. So cinematographic that everything is lost when it

CLOSE UP

is presented in stills, for his quality is to be found only in his
rhythm, his astonishing sense of movement ; so cinemato-
graphic that any attempt to reproduce in words what exists
only in gesture must be abandoned as hopeless. Conning
over those stills I grasped this at last, and rejoiced in the
hopelessness as being the measure of Clair's cinematographic
quality.

Although extensive and significant, Rene Clair's work is
still almost unknown outside France. This, no doubt, is
largely because his spirit is so entirely French, the most com-
pletely so of all the French film-makers. By way of consola-
tion, I may add that even in France Clair has only recently
received the recognition he deserves.

Beginning as a journalist on Ulntransigeant he later
became an actor in a small way, and then for a while was
Baroncelli's assistant. In 1922 he was at last able to produce
his first film : Paris Qui Dort, one of the wittiest films ever
made. Shortly afterwards appeared Entr^acte, with a
scenario by Picabia, a film which placed him in the front rank.
His next film, the Fantdme du Moulin Rouges is, in my
opinion, the least considerable of this series. But in the
Voyage Imaginaire, an entrancing dream-comedy, his talents
once more find full scope, and his success is the more remark-
able by reason of the obviously very strictly limited costs of
the production.

Then followed the second period of Rene Clair's creative
activity; a period that has been widely misunderstood.
Towards the end of 1925 he accepted a contract with Alb aires
and was obliged, therefore, to make certain concessions,

CLOSE UP

wrongly, and to the detriment of his reputation, credited to
him personally. Clair realised that for the production of films
money is required, and having found a firm willing to guar-
antee this prime necessity he accepted its conditions. Never-
theless, he may to-day rest assured that his gifts and his
talents have not been squandered.

Into La Proie du Vent he succeeded, in spite of an unin-
teresting scenario, in introducing excellent cinematography
and in making of the whole a first-class piece of film work.

The next to appear was the Chapeau de Faille d^ltalie. In
my opinion Clair here approaches the level of that mighty film
genius for whom he cherishes so deep a reverence : Charles
Chaplin. This is no mere blasphemous assertion, nor is it
intended to convey the idea that Clair is in any sense an
imitator of Chaplin. Clair pursues his own way. To make
from a stage comedy of the last century a film for 1927 was a
hazardous enterprise — and a complete success. This comedy,
or rather satire, for Clair's wit is always sharp and biting, is
pure cinematography. Not a single comic caption, not a
single forced situation. Could one have believed it possibe to
represent with compelling power upon the film a man who is a
little hard of hearing? This seemingly impossible task (for
surely the comedy of partial deafness can be worked out only
upon the stage) Clair has transformed into a radiant
possibility.

I have seen this fUm four or five times, discovering each
time something fresh and surprising and on each occasion
growing more convinced that in Clair we are dealing with
genius on a large scale. It is impossible to describe his films.
They must be seen.

CLOSE LP

The commercial result was small and the artistic very little
larger. This need not surprise us when we consider that his
earlier adherents, expecting him to continue along his own
lines, were disillusioned, and the larger public, under-
educated by the average film, were unable to find their bear-
ings ; Clair, moreover, is not particularly kind to the larger
public. The great mass of poor-spirited, small bourgeoisie
that is so large a proportion of the French people, saw itself,
half-consciously, of course, mercilessly caricatured : its
pettiness, its gestures, its very clothes. And this in such a
way as to render impossible any illusion as to who it was that
w^as being caricatured, any escape into malicious joy at the
discomfiture of one's neighbours.

The result was unfortunate. For a whole year the firm to
w^hich Clair was bound by contract was foolish enough to
refuse him permission to produce. This in a country where
qualities comparable to his own are to be found, perhaps, in
three or four makers of films, appears inexplicable, but such
was the case. Clair, together with Pabst (though, it goes
without saying, on quite other lines), is, amongst European
producers, the one whose personality is most completely
misunderstood.

At present he is once more adapting a stage comedy,
Labiche's Les Deux Timides (the Chapeau de Faille d'ltalie
was also adapted from a play by Labiche). The film is not yet
finished and, as I know Clair too well to worry him with
questions about his current work, I am not able to say much
about it. But in spite of myself I am rejoicing in advance,
and I know I shall not be disappointed.

CLOSE UP

From the morass of uninteresting productions that will
make up the total of the films shown in France during the
coming year, Clair's promises an escape for all those who
value films worthy of the name. And such, let the picture
factories do what the\' will, increase in numbers every moment'.

Jean Lexauer.

LUSTS OF MANKIND

By Oswell Blakeston

Lusts of jNlankind was made just before La IVagedie
de la Rue It is the story of a famous opera singer who
lives on cocaine and opium. (Cocaine for the practical needs
of the day, and opium for the more decorative moments on a
couch behind screens of beads.) The oriental grandeur is
supplied by a sinister gentleman who uses Madame Thamara
as a deco}^ to attract rich society patrons to the house, where
he sells drugs and looks evil. So the daughter, the pure little
daughter, must not know that her mother is alive and a dope
fiend ; her father brings her up in the barbaric manner of fortv
years ago. You must not do this or that. One day (the
one day " of the sub-titles) a girl friend of the daughter
persuades her to call on Thamara, and add a treasured auto-
graph to her collection. The daughter gets the autograph

CLOSE UP

and is invited to stay to tea. The villain offers her further
hospitality. He entices her into a Chinese cubicle, dopes her,
and threatens to seduce her.

Yes, there are shots of dancing feet, and hearts ache while
feet dance I There is an out and out villain ; Alfred Abel, the
devil I You must make no mistake, a man who sells drugs
is very, very wicked ; therefore Mr. Abel wears his hair in two
mephistophelean horns. Do such wicked men exist ? Really
and truly ? The audience goes home feeling very virtuous,
or else it laughs and laughs, and laughs.

It is a pity that Abel overacts, it is a pity that the scenario
is black and white (good and evil, no people), it is a pity that
the direction of Meinert is ordinary ; for there are many lovely
moments in the picture.

Asta Nielsen is so beautiful. She looks into a mirror. She
cannot go on with life. The corners of her mouth fall, and
you know at once that she must go on doping and doping.
Drugs, the craving for them, force her to live — their life.
There is no hope, no wa}' out. She falls in a heap on the
floor. The Chinese servant glides in. Expressionless face.
Just another of Madame Thamara's attacks. She picks up
the lifeless body on the floor without love, pity or hatred, and
lays it on a couch. The camera shoots along the plane of her
face. Her nostrils are distorted by the angle. So ugly, so
lost, so beautiful.

Or she takes cocaine. Her shiny black hair, cut uncom-
promisinglv, is brushed into order. She laughs, she smiles.
How deeply she has entered into the part. We feel how
wonderful it is for her to put life back in those dead features,
the death of vears ; not how clever it is of her to simulate an

CLOSE LP

expression of depravity. All her past in her eyes. Time-
worn phrase, but Asta Nielsen is doing time-worn things and
making them live. The way she sweeps round the room to
impress her society clients, the cynical twist of her mouth.

Werner Krauss has some of the moments. An irrelevant
part. A dope victim. He arrives at the house, he must see
Abel, but he arrives at the critical hour when Abel is busy
with Thamara's daughter.

Krauss is a kind of commentary on the dramatic incident,
much as the Russian use Nature for a commentary on the
themes of their dramas. There is a scene when our devil
villain gives Thamara a pistol. " You say," he tells her,

that you want to be rid of me, that is the only way." She
throws it from her. Not that solution ! The pistol lies on
the floor. Here," I thought, " is where Krauss comes in.
He breaks into the room, seizes the pistol . . ." But he does
not, and Thamara shoots herself.

The lust, the craving. Krauss refuses to leave the house.
He is waiting with his back to the audience — the first time we
see him in the picture — his hand drums on the arm of a chair.
There is no close-up of the hand, all is played in long shot.
After all that was said about the back of Jannings in Vaude-
ville, here is Krauss really doing it. Abel, the smiling
devil, invites Krauss to come upstairs. Give me cocaine.
Soon, soon. Upstairs. Abel first. Krauss follow^s in jerky
rhythm, drawn up like a puppet on wdres by a man who
promises cocaine.

In the room Abel tells Krauss that he has been tricked.
The director can think of no better wav of treating the
sequence than by cutting from Krauss to a close-up of Abel

CLOSE UP

after each title. ^lust one always see the speaker of a title
painfully framing his first or last words? This is one of the
rare occasions when quick cutting would have been successful.
If the scene had been played in one shot by Krauss it would
have been far more effective. Apart from the fact that ]\Ir.
Alfred Abel, with his ridiculous horns, is not an inspiring
figure, and that Krauss is a far better actor, we Avould have
seen the words mirrored in Krauss's acting, felt the presence
without seeing it, in fact, it might have introduced quite a
diabolical touch.

Locked in the room Krauss goes mad, and breaks ever}'-
thing within his grasp.

As the Chinese servant, Maria Forescu is remarkable.
Greater than the drug seller of Abu'ege. She glides in and
out of the scene, counterpoint when lurid passions run high.
She smiles instinclivelv at men, to humour them, to get them
to be reasonable. Elizza la Porta as the daughter is cold,
more restraint than one would have imagined after seeing her
in a series of prostitute studies.

At the end of the film, when Abel lies dead on the floor,
there is a dissolve to the head of a devil. The crudest devil
since the early films revived at Die Kamera,

But Asta Nielsen . . .

CLOSE VP

SIX RUSSIAN FILMS

(Concluded)

The Forty-First (Der Einiindviersigste).
The Son (Das Kind des Andern).

The Forty-First, (In place of Zvenigora, as announced.)
Meschrabpom-Russ Film (Derussa), directed by Protasanov.

Sand.

No pretty oasis, or distant minaret on the sky line, just sand.
It gives one a peculiar feeling that the scenery has been rubbed
out by deliberate hand to emphasize the faces. Faces of men
fighting in the sand.

A girl is the crack shot of a little band of revolutionaries.
She counts the number of officers who fall victims of her
bullets, but the revolutionaries have to flee before the machine
gun. (Here is a foreshadowing of the famous machine gun
of Te7i Days,) Sand. Most of the men are on foot. The}"
trudge on, till one of the vanguard sights a caravan. Horses
and men run down from the hills of sand and circle the isolated
detachment. An officer, behind a hastily erected barricade,
falls to the ground.

That,'' cries the girl, is mv forty-first."

CLOSE LP

The caravan is captured, but the officer is onlv wounded.

They question him. Has he got papers? He smiles
sardonically. They search him, and find an official document.
None of the men can read the language, so their leader decrees
that the officer must be taken to headquarters. There is a
hint that information can be extracted from the unwilling at
" headquarters ".

Xow the procession winds off on camels, grateful for their
good luck. The curves of the camels against the background
of sand, which is no background, create absolute patterns.

A sand storm. In the confusion the water bottles are
broken. Discouraged, they rest; but good luck has deserted
them. While the sentr\- sleeps some roving brigands steal
the camels.

The little band awakens to fmd no water and no camels.
Thev do not kill the man who has betraved them, vet their
privations are terrible. Men fall in the sand on the march and
are left. These scenes have the peculiar poignancy of the
later Russian pictures like The Peasant Women of Riazanj,
It seems so heartrending to see the men fall by the wayside;
types, and therefore more pathetic than individuals, who at
least have their own destinies; just as the Peasant Women
are types ; all suffering that comes to them is cruel and wasted.

At night the man who has brought so much disaster on his
comrades sits alone. The officer is chewing meat, the other
has no meat, he has been miissed out in the rations. Food.
He stretches out his hand with an involuntary gesture to the
officer. A smile, the meat is tossed over. The other eats.
Pauses. This is a hated officer, a prisoner. He throws back
the meat in the officer's fare.

CLOSE UP

An interesting scene. They have not yet evolved the brutal
officer of The End of St, Petersburg, who strikes the bound
worker with his fist. Perhaps because the sand is so stark the
men appear less harsh — the men who did not kill the sleeping-
sentry. Is this your discipline sneers the officer — or
perhaps they had not the courage in the early days to hit out
so strongly.

The procession moves off in the sand. A man pauses to
kill a friend with parched lips writhing in agony on the sand.

Meanwhile the girl and the officer are strangely attracted.
She is writing in a tent. He asks her what she is writing.
She shows him — a poem ! To show her poem, an act of the
greatest friendship ! They are drawn together because her
disguised feminism is satisfied by his education. Which of
her comrades could understand her poem ? A poem of four
or five lines !

He is drawn to her because of her beautiful primitive
attraction. Culture appeals to the primitive, and the primi-
tive to culture. It is very quietly shown. The basis of a
volcanic love affair.

At night she cuts his bonds so that he can sleep in comfort.

At length the survivors come to a friendly village. For a
few weeks their leader allows them to take part in the village
activities. What a relief for us also to watch boats putting
out to sea. The tension has gone with the sand. The officer
lies on a bed sulkilv smoking, the girl busies herself with a
thousand and one affairs.

But these men are doomed. They set out in a boat. The
villagers wave good-bye from the shores. A storm arises.

CLOSE UP

The boat is shipwrecked. The man and the girl are washed
ashore.

The girl (primitive) takes the initiative. She finds a dis-
used hut, which is always there to be found by the ship-
wrecked. She lights a fire, and leaves the man while she goes
out into the waves to look for any of her comrades who may
be struggling near the rocks. The man develops fever. For
weeks the girl nurses him.

The love story, as it is told by the second half of the film, is
overwhelming. The first half suffers from frequent use of
iris, which the cameraman must fortunately have lost. It is
difficult to describe this part of the film. Here is a room.
People live in it and love in it. It is not the kind of film in
which people do little polished things so that they can be
shown in close-up.

The man wearies. " Shall I stop in this hole all my life?"
The girl glances round the hut with frightened eyes. Hole?
It is, for her, home. His cigarettes are gone, there is a little
loose tobacco but no paper or pipe. The girl fumbles in her
bodice and hands him her poem. He rolls a cigarette, and
gazes moodily into the fire. Dreams, smoke. The whole
film is weighed with this rather heavy symbolism, which
manages, on the screen, to be convincing.

Whirr of an aeroplane propeller. Shot from the aeroplane
of a tinv speck. Waving arms. Gone. The man bursts
into tears, the girl forces him to kiss her.

Quarrels and reconciliations.

A sail. This time their signals are seen. The girl, too,
is excited. She does not realize. Suddenly she sees that he
has become white " again, that she has no part in his

CLOSE UP

excitement. Rowing boat draws near the shore. He is
going away. 1 cannot live without him. (Culture tires of
the primitive, before primitive tires of culture ; carefully
concealed educational propaganda) . . .
She bends over his dead body.

Who is this man, and why have you shot him?"

He was my forty-first, and I killed him because he was
the only man I have ever loved."

O. B.

The Son,

SovKiNO Film (Derussa release), directed by E. Tscherviakov.
With Anna Sten, G. Mitschurin, Peter Beresov.

Attention is seized by the very first shot in this film; not
only seized, but given its clue. The husband greeting his
wife in the hospital vestibule. Love and exultation. He
embraces her tenderly, embraces also the infant in her arms.
Wan and weak, she tells him This is not your son
Repudiation, not of him alone, not of her motherhood alone,
but repudiation of compromise, of willingness to submit, to
pretend, to be falsely presented, falsely exalted. Her young,
exhausted face is not hard or indift'erent, only weary. It is
not worth while or it is not of help submitting to jov which she
has scanned in her husband's face. Her eyes, searching his,
have seen that the price of his joy is the price of too much
effort, or even of too little effort. He is so willing to believe.
Without bitterness or complaining, without timidity or
feeling, " this is not vour son ". They go down the stairs.

CLOSE UP

A large empty foreground, with two ligures and the bundle
in her arms, taking the stairway curve of the background.
One of those poignant, unforgettable " shots " native to
Russian films alone.

The Son is an interlude, a comment, a transition, not a
thing here or there, as, for instance, Ten Days or Two Days,
The Son is the slipping past, the journey from milestone to
milestone. It has almost a nebulous existence. But nebulous
as thunder clouds, with a rolling, sonorous power.

The voung couple reach home. They have walked home
together. Home is the " married quarters " of a great fire
station. Neighbours are there to greet them. The husband
(G. Alitschurin), stricken more deeply than could have been
thought, has come home wild-eyed, wide-eyed, hurt and lost
and alone like a suffering child. He shoulders away from
the curious group, shrewd-eyed old women who make Cjues-
tioning signs to each other. They look at the wife (Anna
Sten). She has seated herself. Hunched and regardless.
The child lies there, swinging in its cot. The} watch it in
the tense atmosphere. Their shrewd eves grow more shrewd.

The husband has gone to a cafe. He sits and drinks,
staring bleakh' with his child's stare. A woman seats herself
at his table. She drinks and he drinks. Thev stare at each
other. They look at each other across mutual grief. Thev
see and do not see each other. She takes her drink and goes.
He sits on, staring with his child's ca'CS, and his child's woe.

The night passes. Morning comes, and he has not been
home. The wife is the centre of attention. The old women
are saying now she has had a lover. They, at least, are find-
mg life full of thrills. The wafe (Olga), with her shopping

CLOSE UP

basket, encounters Gregor (her lover) in the street. He
hurries along, keeping pace with her, plying her with ques-
tions, until she has hurried away and out of sight.

Here is the atmosphere build in the first reels, deft, with
extraordinary economy of means. Not lightning rapidity of
Eisenstein, nor Germanic deliberateness — the imitated
deliberateness of The Way of All Flesh — but in largo time,
with heavy, exact chords.

The bovine misery of the husband, driving him further and
further into estrangement, brings scandal to its summit.
Olga is driven by the malice and gossip of the w^omen out of
the fire station. Gregor takes her into his room, but they
have no longer anything to share or give each other. She
leaves him and lives alone with her child. One day she is
visited by the chief of the fire station, an old man who has
watched the disintegration of Andrei (the husband) with mis-
giving. He arranges to have the child sent to a nursery
school, and to give Olga work. A new life is opened to her.
Here is needless trick-work. Radio is emphasised as a
bringer of joy. Jazz bands dissolve in and out while heads
of happy mothers dissolve out and in. Radio, we must re-
member, is being used in the U.S.S.R. for education and
propaganda almost as widely as the cinema. But we did not
need this long passage of over-emphasis.

Fire, one night, calls out the brigade. It is the house
(naturally) where Olga is living. Andrei and Gregor are also
(naturally) there. Gregor rescues Olga, and ironically,
Andrei goes into the flames for the child. Were this anything
but a Russian picture we would begin at this point to put on
hats, coats, do up our chocolate boxes, grope for umbrellas,

^ O

Lusts of Mankind, a ]\Ieinert iilm photographed by Ludwig Lippert with
sets bv Robert Dietrich. Important because of Asta Xielsen. herewith.

Lusts of Mankind. Werner Krauss as the drug victim and Maria
Forescu as the Chinese servant.

Lusts of Mankind,

For full particulars of this film see article of
same name in this issue.

Two dramatic stills from Mother, Pudowkin's ^^ onderful film, recently
revived at the Camera' in Berlin, and at the Film Society in London.

CLOSE UP

and, in short, begin to get ready for the scamper for the exit.
But anything mav — this being a Russian film — yet happen.
The rescued, Olga, child, husband, burnt but alive, are
bundled into an ambulance together. They sit opposite
staring at each other over miles of distance. The problem is
unresolved. They do not fall into each other's arms. They
both sit mtimidated, familiar strangers, ready to know each
other again, but unable to. The wagon rumbles on. The
film ends.

Leaving the problem open that way is clever. Not new,
but — and this is what really does constitute newness — done in
a new way. Done in life's way, not the theatre's nor (Russia
apart) the screen's. You feel simply you are losing sight of
them. Their lives have not been rounded off, sewn in and
laid to rest in lavender, as are the lives in most films. We do
not feel that we are leaving a theatre or projection room, but
simply going away from people. We will go on wondering
what will happen to them, if Andrei will cease to be so stupidly
hurt, if Olga will be able to forget loneliness and humiliation,
if they will love each other again, how the son will grow up.
It is an interesting end: not only interesting, but piquant.
We will remember Andrei and Olga long after people we have
seen cosily settled, snugly disposed of.

The psvchology of all the film is very sound, and very sure
of itself. The photography is excellent. Characters live and
impress themselves upon us. It is all done with enviable
restraint. The small parts — and this is a rare thing — are as
real and alive as the principal ones. It is created, not
fabricated. The technique is slick, and the acting beautiful.

K. M.

CLOSE UP

NEWS GAZETTE

So Eisenstein is visiting Hollywood, and Louise Brooks is
coming to Europe. Why was Alarion Davies so careless
about her photographs at the Lido, and why is Sir Nigel
Playfair, at present acting as twenty-one-year-old Tony
Lumpkin at his very much of a playhouse, director of a new
cinema? Then, for to-day's glimpse of royalty, without
which none of us would go to the pictures, The Circus was
shown at Balmoral.

^ ^ ^

It is a mistake only to arrive in time for the big pictures,
we see too many of them. And it is a mistake only to write
articles about the big pictures, big articles. We write too
man}^ of them. Just as those thrilling flashes, like a good
revue, all too short, enable one to sit back, tuning in for the
main feature, these odd comments (not, alas, very thrilling)
let me sit back and consider and digest, and not get clogged
by writing again about imagery before I am ready. Topicals
rest and spur the mind and put it in good humour, by which I
mean Avorking order. That is why so little good work is done

in London, the humour's missing.

* * *

Mary has gone gay, if you read Photoplay, and Gloria's
voice will be heard in her next. But as that is a Stroheim, we

CLOSE UP

shall probably all be having third-dimensional colour tele-
vision by the time it is shown, and will she be able to say what
we are all sure she does say in her parts ? They charged eleven
dollars for the opening of the second Al Jolson Vitaphone film
in New York, and there, I suppose, they did not even have
the fun of it breaking. What good, anyway, can sound films
be until colour and the third dimension are added as well?
And when the images are so many times larger than life, why
isn't the noise? Because our ears could not stand it. But
it should occur to people that when our eyes are coping with
an increased scale, we, as living organisms, are subjected to
enough.

* * *

They laughed at Sunrise when it was shown at the Avenue
Pavilion. Not at the good technique, but at the bad story.
Perhaps it is safer to be in London for a little — it is not quite
so shattering — with only one or two films, Stella Polaris, to
keep one alive, one can sit back and think, wrap the public
apathy round one without letting it touch. Need not bother
to keep up with things, any way out of date or irrelevant.
We see a film, we label it " good " or frightful " ; that's
that, where is the next, /loiu up-to-date I am keeping, but
what has one done, doing that ? So much better to observe
quite a bad film and study it, because if it is a bad American
film, it will still be well-made, and we want our own films to
be that as well. Studv even The Fake and see how many
shots are taken to convey the suggestion made by the hero
that the kind of man Norman Alckinnell always plays should
telephone. Gesture, caption, " Why don't you telephone?"

CLOSE L P

same gesture again, cut to N.M. regarding instrument, cut to
hero, cut to N.M. taking instrument, cut to person other end,
caption. Such an important incident, so deftly done — one of
the best British films. Study The First Kiss and see how
interesting the sequence of Fay Wray walking through a
shipyard is made to be.

All of whicli is saying, you can as profitably go to bad films
as to good ones, so there is no rest. \A^ell, it isn't, quite. It
is saying, clumsily, no doubt, and very quarrelsomely, that
it is more important to learn to see films, which can be done
from bad, than to gloss over " big " ones. And as for clog-
ging and the need for refreshment, there is hi a Monastery
Garden. This is one of the British Acoustic Films that were
put on tw^o nights before the Vitaphone came on w^ith its own
obsolete programme. There is a gentleman who composes
pieces for cinema organs, called " In sl this or In a that
One of these has been taken and filmed with noises. This
music was of the atmospheric kind that will accompanv por-
tions of most films. In a Monastery Garden in particular did
for religion, remorse, regret, evening, death, and garden-
paths. This music, written to accompany films, has now been
given a film of its own. We watch sound accompanying a
film made to accompanv music that originally accompanied
pictures. The logic is so absurd that we should laugh were
not the film so charmingly entertaining. Built on a simple
and easily understood plan, it shows a monk singing a verse,
which verse is then illustrated by long shots of monks pro-
ceeding to service in what looks like a garden of one of
England's stately homes, lent for the purpose. The atmos-
phere is in all respects definitely Old-W orld.

CLOSE UP

But this is not enough. One cannot remain in England
much longer, even for fun or politeness. The Regal will soon
be finished. And the Regal is one of our newest theatres and
it is one of those atmospheric affairs. There has just been
opened at Golders Green a cinema that is like the Lido. The
atmosphere of these two places is not so very different, so it
may be called an example of home architecture. But the
atmospliere of the Regal is that of a woodland glade in
autumn. The roof or the dome, whatever these places have,
will have a sky capable of changing from sunrise to sunset
and a moon that will very obligingly wax and wane. The
auditorium is to give the efiect that one is sitting under a
pergola in autumn, a thing that rarely happens. Strands of
autumn leaves hang about. The colour scheme is russet and
gold, and the specially-woven carpet is to represent red tiles
on which autumn leaves have fallen. It is odd to think of red
tiles in a glade, but at least it is consoling to know that such
things do have to be specially woven.

The programme girls, who are to have red hair, ought really
to be dressed as robins, handing out programmes printed on
autumn leaves, with which to cover the man}^ couples of babes
in a wood more comfortable than the Park. At the end of the
session the moon should rise, to their sweet discomfiture, while
an amplified owl, hooting, would warn them it was time to go
home. Dew might also be turned on to the same effect. The
onlv thing that will be out of the scheme in this is, of course,
the screen. Can vou imagine Lilyan Tashman as an appro-
priate adjunct to autumn leaves, or Alady Christians
thoroughly at hom.e in a wood, or Menjou, Negri (of whom
there are so many films), Brigette Helm or Patsy Ruth?

CLOSE UP

Presumably tlie Regal will confine itself to Westerns, Fair-
banks and Lillian Gish.

It must be very wonderful to be able, mentally as well as
practically, to decide to have one's theatre like this. I should
build a chain, one like an airship, one like a submarine, a coal
cellar, a racestand, a conservatory (though some are like this).
Finally, a cafe to look like a cinema. There would be aerial,
marine, underworld, or racing films to fill them all. Perhaps
there would be even the audiences. I think they would come,
because the scheme is not a bit new. It goes back to the days
— here some flashes of nickelodeon history (I have been read-
ing R. P. ^^lessel's This Film Business) — when ingenious
gentlemen built a place like a cabin and installed seats that
went up and down, giving the illusion one was at sea, what
time a marine panorama went bv. The enterprise failed in
those days. At least, the one I knew did.

¥^ ^ ^

No, one cannot stay in England much longer. Six weeks
has given Berlin time to open two new movie houses. This
is what has been done with one of them. The purpose of the
exterior of the Titania Palast (reading from Cinema for
September 12th) is " The creation of an architectural aspect,
simple, rythmic, yet strong ; striking an individualistic note,
yet never leaving the purpose of the building in doubt
Here it should be remarked that the purpose of Berlin cinemas
in the main is, not to provide a parking place for housemaids
and their half-crown Guardsmen, but to show pictures to the
people who come to see them.

Night lighting was thought of in the designing and not
applied after so as to effectuallv destroy line and mass. Broad

CLOSE L P

black and white bands of translucent material were embodied
in the building so that, when lit from within, thev bring it
out in all its modern mass against the Berlin skv. The
exterior illumination, incidentally, is of 160,000 candle power.
The surfacing of the walls is metallic, silver or gold, and " the
vaults, tapering to the four sides of the lobby, so as not to
impede reflection nor interfere with the diffusion of light, are
treated in pale colours Light is clearly important already
in this house that lives by light-thrown images. The inside
lighting of the auditorium is indirect. Instead of in those old
trellis things each side of the stage, behind which the organ
pipes can be heard breathing, as in a harem, the pipes are
ranged around the proscenium, brought into the decoration
and used as a lighting surface. Well, well, " it is all very
modern and won't last '\ But, alas, the Regal will last: all
it stands for has lasted since before when. The Empire is
nearing completion in the old square, and a new cinema is
being built in Queen's Road, Bayswater. They are bound to
be more like the Astoria than the Titania. A picture on the
scaffolding of Queen's Road shows the usual flippant, half-
Georgian, half-cottage aft'air. One wishes it had taken
example from the really pleasant Solex factory oft' the
Edgware Road, behind the Blue Hall. It is maddening when
so much building is being done b}' Iightspiel concerns to see
the complete failure in England to realise a modern idiom in
architecture. Why, why, ix'/za' is one here? Xow a Society
has been formed to promote — guess what — the showing of
only what (that which) is desirable in the social and economic
life of the Empire and foreign countries. So that one word
rules out all the Governments and their effects on the one

CLOSE LP

hand, and all of serious modern life on the other. Since no
one can consider both these desirable. Of course, they will
have their own meaning for the word, but the society is really
another form of censorship. If it means nothing to say a
film is " good what can it mean to call it " desirable " ? A
little thinking would show that it is impossible to apply either
of these words to a film.

* *

Belle Bennet intends to film the Life of Isadora Duncan.
Forthcoming attractions, four British films will be shown in
the U.S.S.R., including the one for which Hugh Gee's
designs recently appeared in Close Up, and, next month. The
Imagery of Eisenstein.

Robert Herring.

LITTERATURE ET FILM

Force nous est d'etablir un parallele entre le livre et le film,
tous deux renfermant une tranche de vie, inanimee dans le
premier, il est vrai, et animable chez I'autre. Le film
emprunte souvent aux textes litteraires, et le style de Tecrivain
moderne subit I'influence du cinema. Tous deux sont moyens
d'expression et revelent une epoque aussi siirement que peut
le faire une chronique historique.

5fi

CLOSE UP

Si les caracteres typogTaphiques n'ont pas une puissance de
suggestion egale aux images, ils depassent neanmoins celles-
ci en precision. II faut egalement leur conceder une souplesse
d' interpretation qu'on ne pent atteindre par le moyen de
Tobjectif et des acteurs.

Le film serait infailliblement inferieur aux oeuvres litteraires
s'il n'avait le privilege de nous interesser, parfois, unique-
ment en raison de notre curiosite de badauds ... la meme
qui nous pousse a contenipler, de la fenetre, les passants et
les choses. Un mauvais livre est irremediablement perdu,
rien ne saurait le sauver, hormis une reliure de prix, mais
i'ecran ou se joue un stupide scenario, vibre neanmoins et
nous permet, si Ton veut, de lacher le fil de I'histoire pour
nous borner a suivre automatiquement le jeu de tel ou tel
personnage. Xous sommes susceptibles de nous interesser a
tout, lorsque nous en avons la possibilite.

Cet avantage du film est si connu des regisseurs qu'ils n'ont
pas manque d'en profiter autant que possible. A cette fin, ils
enrolent a tour de bras les physiques " susceptibles de
seduire Tattention, certains apres cela que le public exigera
moins d'une bande ou il aura le loisir de contempler nombre
de jambes finement modelees ou heros-types sacres photo-
geniques.

II y a les romans et les oeuvres classiques, les documentaires
. . . et le film est tour a tour I'un ou I'autre, mais sa
predilection est pour les romans. Les romans-feuilletons, la
vous touchez a la corde sensible. Quels accents ne peut-on
en tirer. \^oyez un peu, la gamme est etendue. Debutant
en mineur avec evocation de milieux aises, affranchis des
" banales preoccupations, on noue une intrigue policiere

CLOSE UP

avec, si possible, question d'heritage, ou elevation brusque
d'une creature de classe " inferieure " au niveau superieur.
Et puis, comme personne ne saurait tolerer voir un bonheur
parfait on cree un conflit a base de jalousie, et I'on termine
en pincant des notes plus graves accompagnant quelque
operation necessaire de cloture, quelque liquidation d'un
geneur qui disparait, perfore d'une balle, asphyxie, pendu ou
ecrasse. Quel soulagement I Apres cela oseriez-vous dire
que vous n'en avez pas eu pour votre argent ! Ce d'autant
plus qu'in extremis les rayons du soleil couchant vous
permettront de contempler les deux " cheres " silhouettes
echanger un baiser. Bonsoir !

Freddy Che valley.

COMMENT AND REVIEW

The Adventures of a Ten-Mark Note
By OswELL Blakeston

Direction : — Viertel.

Cameraman : — Helmar Larski and Robert Babesske.
Sets : — Walter Reinmann.

The strength and weakness of this film is the story. The
episodic scheme almost forces the cutting into briskness, but
the episodes are too contrived. (A blind beggar girl stumbles

CLOSE UP

down the street. The ten-mark note sticks to the sole of her
boot, then adheres to the pavement.)

There is a long sequence of mixes in the middle of the
film, when the note is passed from a prostitute to a coffee-stall
keeper, and so on till it is laid to rest in a prosperous safe.
Handbags are opened and the note placed so deliberately
within, w^hile hands take just that much more time than is
natural in shutting the bag. Inserts are frequently as
artificial, but these seem to give a key to the whole film ; the
bank note is placed in the scene so carefully. Cats carry the
note in their mouths, rain washes it down gutters, w-ind blows
it into the air, and the title-writer talks about " the ironv of
fate

The second half of the film is more conventional than the
first ; the girl who nearly sells herself — to pay for her mother's
expenses in the hospital I How often we have seen it before ;
but, owing to the nature of the film, these episodes could
easily be cut out, and the film deserves doctoring, for it is
crowded with interesting types. At present, too, it is
burdened with wise-crack '' titles :

DISC MUSIC FOR THE DANCERS.
PILSNER FOR THE PARCHED, Etc.

Another title tells us that a man is so mean that he prays to
become bald in order that he need not spend any money on a
hair-cut. Surely this is not fair treatment of so good a film?

Even in its ramshackled condition the film held my atten-
tion. The direction has manv inspired moments. There is
a fascinating shot of the villain sitting in the window of a

CLOSE UP

cafe. IVams, buses and passers-by are reflected in the plate-
glass. The city is intent on doing- something and getting
somewhere, but we know at once that to our villain work and
its purpose are but idle reflections; he has only one thought.
I like also some of the earlier scenes of a soiree with the
agonized face of a long-suffering wife. However, I cannot
overlook the moments that strain after inspiration. What
reason can there be for placing the camera on the floor to
shoot a man and a woman sitting at a table drinking
aperitives? Anything for an angle! When Righelli, in
the opening scenes of Exiled, places his camera on the ground
to photograph a mad onrushing crowd, he achieves a legiti-
mate eft'ect because such a crowd would be most terrible to a
man prostrate in its path. Righelli wants to suggest terror
with his opening shot, therefore he is psychologically justified.
Freak angles, unjustifiable angles, must ever be an abomina-
tion ; thev distract the attention, and one wants to argue w^ith
A^iertel about the meaningless angle instead of w^atching the
characters.

Throughout the picture the photograph v of Helmar Larski
is excellent. I should like to make an exception of the con-
ventional centering of the characters, which I find verv
tedious. Neither can I forgive the black backgrounds for the
sake of some of the beautiful compositions. The better the
general level of photographv the more shock is felt when large
heads are shot against black velvet. Much the same shock
might be experienced if somebody in the middle of a dramatic
scene whispered in your ear : After all, it's only a picture,
don't you know." Most of the large heads of Imogene
Robertson are shot against black velvet.

fin

CLOSE UP

Werner Feutterer is charmingly boyish, and it is a pity
that the girl is so colourless. Walter Frank, who plays the
part of the vicious son, is more fortunate in being partnered
by Anna ]\Iiel1er, who can give points to some of Hollywood's
perfect screen mothers.

Re-edited and titled, this film would be worthy of attention.
Will nobodv rescue it?

HOLLYWOOD NOTES

L^nited Artists' film translation of Jacob Christoph Heer's
novel, " Der Konig der Bernina is well under way. The
plavers in the picture, under the direction of Ernest Lubitsch,
recentlv returned from " location " in the Canadian Rocky
Mountains, where the major scenes, presumed to be in the
Swiss Alps, were filmed during a stay of several weeks and
amid manv hardships, as well as actual danger. Soon after
their arrival the company nearly met destruction by a glacier
slide ; a happening which at the time suggested the title
Avalanche for the picture. This was subsequently aban-
doned, how^ever, upon learning that Lasky-Paramount were
doing a picture under that caption, and the Lubitsch film
accordinglv reverted to its original working title of King of
the Mountains .

CLOSE LP

John Barr\ more enacts the leading role. Others in the cast
are Camilla Horn, Victor Varconia and Mona Rico, a
Mexican girl chosen from the ranks of the extras because of
her striking personality and demonstrated dramatic talent.

Jesse Lasky has announced that the pictures obtained by
Merian Cooper and Ernest Schoedsack during their year's
stay in the Sudan are to be used as the background or chief
mise en scene for a film version of A. E. W. Mason's one-
time popular novel,* " The Four Feathers ". Differing,
therefore, from these film authors' former productions, Grass
and Chang, the present picture will fall into the more con-
ventional classification of a photodrama. Many scenes
supplementing those of the African wilds have been taken at
the studio since the return of Cooper and Schoedsack.
Richard Arlen, known for his work in Wings, is cast in the
role of the young Englishman, Henry Faversham, about
whom the story of " The Four Feathers " revolves.

* *

A recently organised film company, Productions of South
America, Inc., is planning to make a series of twelve pictures
dealing with the life and legends of the ancient Peruvian
Incas. Some modern American sequences are to be included
in the films. These are now being shot at the Los Angeles
studio. After their completion the company, under the
management of J. Barstow Budworth, will leave for Lima,
where a studio will be established. Existing remains of the
Incas — temples, monuments, fortifications — will be used as
sets and backgrounds for these unique pictures.

CLOSE UP

I'exas Giiinan, who has been in the limelight during the
past few vears as the proprietress of a notorious Xew York
night club, has temporarily returned to Hollywood, to plav
the featured role in a Warner Brothers vitaphone production
under the title of The Queen of the Xight Clubs. Before her
venture into the sophisticated gaieties of metropolitan
nocturnal life, Miss Guinan was identified with Hollywood
pictures as the dashing heroine of many vivid Westerns

^ ^ ^

The hunt is now on for big names in the musical world as
contributors to the phonohlms. Irving Berlin, John
^^IcCormick, Paderewski. George Gershwin and Percy
Grainger are among those already secured or who are being
angled for with tempting financial bait. Paderewski is
reported to have been offered 8150,000 for three short film
contributions, while Fox is said to have offered Gershwin
$50,000 for the film rights to his jazz bizarrerie, " The
Rhapsody in Blue to be used as a theme for a symphonic
screen story.

* * ^

Preparations are under wav at the Christie studio for filming
a series of Xegro comedies. These will be drawn from Roy
Octavus Cohen's popular stories of present-day Alabama
colored life, and will bring to life on the screen such of his
picturesque characters as Florian Slappy, Lawyer Evans
Chew, Sis Callie Fluskers and Dr. Brutus Herring. Accom-
panied by audible characteristic speech, these dusky comedies
promise to be an entertaining novelty.

CLOSE UP

Michael Arlen's The Green Hat '\ done in celluloid,
under the direction of Clarence Brown, is M-G-M's latest
vehicle for Greta Garbo. To placate the moralists who have
registered objections against the screening of this story, the
picture will be released under another name — A Woman of
Affairs. This simple device will no doubt prove as effective
here as it did with the protested Ram, which under the film
incognito of Sadie Thomson successfully satisfied the

American puritanic conscience.

* *

Harold Lloyd's new comedy, which went into production
in September, is laid in San Francisco's Chinatown. Lloyd
will be seen in the role of a police officer's son. It is reported
that the picture will be at least part talkie ; Lloyd having been
won over from the ranks of talkie skeptics after witnessing a
demonstration of the Roy Pomeroy sound device which the

Lasky-Paramount are using.

^ ^ ^

Robert J. Flaherty, producer of Nanook of the North and
Moana, is preparing another like screen opus; this time with
the Hopi Indians of New Mexico as the dramatis personce.
With headquarters established at Santa Fe, he is at present
living among the people of this aboriginal pueblo tribe,
securing scenes of their picturesque daily life and their ancient
ceremonies. The camera work is in the hands of Leon
Shamrov.

* *

Adrienne Lecouvreur " has been adapted to a modern
setting for film production by M-G-M. Fred Niblo is direct-
ing the picture. Joan Crawford, supported by Nils Asther,

CLOSE UP

Aileen Pringle and Warner Oland, will essay the screen
version of the role first made famous by Rachel and later
immortalized by Bernhardt.

^ ^ *

Russian stories continue to hold their vogue. United
Artists are alone planning two more photodramas of this
genre. In their search for material they have resurrected
Pushkin's " The Pistol Shot and Gogol's gruesome
tragedy, " Taras Bulba Each of these will be modernized
in its cinema treatment, including the employment of sound
effects.

* * *

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer are filming Jules Verne's " Mys-
terious Island ". Directed by Lucien Hubbard, the picture
will include many under-water scenes of unusual novelty and
interest, secured off the Bahama Islands. The film will be
done in color, with movietone accompaniment.

Mary Pickford's next production, to be done with audible
dialog, w^ill be an adaptation of the recent New York stage
success, " Coquette

«■ * *

Warner Brothers' net income for the present fiscal 5^ear,
ended August 31st, is reported to be approximately two
million dollars. Last year it was only thirty thousand. The
tremendous popular response to vitaphone explains the
difference. C. H.

CLOSE UP

METROPOLITAN AMATEUR CINEMATO-
GRAPHER'S SOCIETY

A Society, with the above title, was recently formed under
the auspices of the British Empire Film Institute.

Its objects are : —
The study of the motion picture as a medium of art, education,
and entertainment ; the encouragement of the art and practice
of cinematography ; to encourage local talent ; to produce
amateur films for exhibition ; to negotiate the disposal of any
films made by amateurs; to secure facilities for its members
to film topical places ; and to formulate, collate, and propagate
a vigorous Empire film spirit in favour of a higher standard of
theme and artistic depictation.

A general meeting will be held on Tuesday, 6th November,
and those wishing to attend are invited to communicate with
the Joint Hon. Secretaries, at 15, Alatheson Road, London,
W.i4.

BOOK REVIEWS

HERACLITUS "

Heraclitus, known as the weeping philosopher — " but
gave no angle for glycerine tears, only he said Traura
and so provided the motto for Ernest Betts, his book,

Heraclitus, or The Future of Films (Kegan Paul, 2/6.)

Why films have a future, why the cinema is a unique
vessel holding the fluid forms of a new art we should have

CLOSE UP

learnt as well by inference, if the author had dipped more
bravely into that future — the tele-cinema, colour, stereoscopy,
the talkies. Instead, he belabours the why.

As commerce, " films have as assured a value as aeroplanes,
or ships, or newspapers But " it is difficult to write of the
future of something- which has very little past, though it is
undoubtedly more amusing ".

Films have a present, however, and it would be fun, taking
standpoint in the future, to consider it. Yank-baiting would
lose a little of its point if we could look back and see the real
American contribution, their fast comedies, which seem one
of the only genuine unselfconscious forms of art in the-world-
to-day. Our sons will look back on the freshness of the early
world, the folk-art of Hollywood.

Meanwhile, adjusting the balance with a footnote, Mr. Betts
lets us in to some good baiting : a story being considered for
the films : —

Is the author famous?" (Yes : full marks.)

" Can the public spell his name, or hers?" (No: fewer
marks.)

^ Could Susan Switch, for example, ' star ' as Cleopatra,
and swell the bank roll ?" (Yes : prepare scenario.)
" Has it all the merits of a play, novel or short story, but
none of the merits of a good film?" (Yes: start
production.)

The way out of this state of things is by a self-denying
ordinance : let films be poorer and less successful for a while.
With this attitude it is not surprising that the author wastes
no time bawling out the talkies. Unfortunate that their boost
should have come after the book had been printed.

CLOSE UP

Soundly, he sees the real educative value of films in their
art rather than their pedagogy, but also foretells the inevitable
development of the news and information side, when someone
wakes up to do it properly.

Newton may have had a headache, but there is no reason
why you should have one. Laws of Gravity now showing.
Also, next Thursday's Revolution in Mexico, relayed pre-
televisually from Vera Cruz."

R. d'E. B.

A THOUGHT

We compose sets of sub-titles in German and French : the
Orientals make shift to follow the story without anv informa-
tion, or on a slight knowledge of English. What will be the
procedure for the talkies ?

If ever it mattered to the cinema industry it could, for the
price of a film or two, teach sufficient Esperanto for the under-
standing of sub-titles and dialogue in next to no time. Each
sub-title would have the Esperanto version below : short
lessons would be given after the news reel, it would be a
publicity stunt, and for less than is wasted on a bad super-film
the industry could prbpagand all over the earth. It may be
forced to do this yet, because of the talkies.

We tell each other what the cinema will mean, but we hardly
feel it yet.

R. d'E. B.

CLOSE UP

vStella Burford, a young artist whose paintings may be seen
from time to time at the New Enghsh Art Club and similar
exhibitions, has struck a new line by her vigorous sketches
made, bv the courtesy of the company, in the British
International studios at Elstree.

The two sketches reproduced in this issue represent the
exterior and interior of a huge cabaret set designed by Alfred
Junge for Piccadilly — the fihn which is being produced at
Elstree by Dupont. Arnold Bennett wrote the story, in which
Anna Mav ^\"ong, Gilda Gray, and Jameson Thomas are
starred.

Alfred Junge was the art director for Moulin Rouge, and
other of Mr. Dupont's pictures, after a career as artist and
designer for the theatre and opera in Berlin.

The set consists of a dance floor surrounded by a balcony,
which is supported without pillars on the cantilever system.
At one end an extremely decorative flight of stairs leads to the
entrance. The dancing floor has a floral design carried out in
inlaid wood, paint not being considered sufficient for the hard
use to which it will be put. The design is sumptuous without
being gaudy, and, while the general plan is quite simple, the
strong curves promise to be more satisfactory to the camera,
even, than they are to the eye. As the set is completely
enclosed a mobile camera will have the freest scope, and there
is hardlv a point from which lines and masses do not construct
interesting pattern, while still remaining explanatory of the
simple ground plan. This is more important than is gener-
ally realised by designers, for interesting composition is often
spoilt by the bewilderment of the spectator, who misses the
action in trying to And out just where he is.

CLOSE UP

Sketching in the studios is far from easy, as the light is
continually changing, and it is almost impossible to judge
colour, while hardly any corner remains the same from one
minute to another, though these particular scenes were more
permanent.

The whole collection of sketches will be exhibited shortly
in a Bond Street gallery, and will open up a hitherto un-
touched field of the greatest interest to artists.

It was a real joy to have the sub-titles in Mother (shown by
the Film Society in London on October 21st) so faithfully
adhering to the original ones. The translations were literal
and lost none of their strength. The Society is not only to be
congratulated, but thanked. The mangled, distorted or
gelded versions of films shown from country to country, either
as art films or even as ordinary commercial films, are so fre-
quent that Mother, with every title intact, and every shot in
its right place, was something in the nature of an achieve-
ment, since not only its subject, but its treatment, are unmis-
takably somewhat delicate matter in this land of the Bull Dog
Breed. For as H. D. remarked, " The red flag of ' mother '
as she lies, a peasant woman, trampled to unsightly death at
the frigid command of an aristocratic cavalry officer, is as red
as an}' Flanders Poppy." And that's where the rub comes
in. It IS I

CLOSE UP

Those who have the chance to see Verdun, the French war
tilm of Leon Poirier, released generally in England on
Armistice Day by Gaumont, should certainly not fail to do
so, and they should take their children, for although it was
reported in the Press that small schoolboys whooped That's
the way to wipe 'em up or words to that effect, and senior
schoolboys said, " Although we know we ought to hate war
we could not help feeling that if it were to happen again we
would be among the first to go " (or words to that effect), we
cannot believe that even a public school could make such a
complete muggins of a boy. For Verdun does not gild or
glorify war. On the contrary, Verdun goes very far (not as
far as Pudowkin) in showing you what war really is like.
It does not show you how to avoid war, which Pudowkin does
with nothing more than rows of artillery garlanded with
flowers and old men and women waving, but it does show you
that war is a thing to be avoided ; that it wastes everything
and builds nothing, certainlv not honour and glory, and cer-
tainly not " the freedom of nations And it does succeed
in showing tliat nothing in or out of the world is worth the
finest of each and every race being nonchalantly butchered in
the most unhygienic possible ways. It is not a propa-
gandistic " fihn as such (ahhough if it came out of Russia
frantic County Councillors would promptly ban it), but by its
very impartiality, and juxtaposition of lives and circumstances
(here, there, flashes back and forward), makes a strong case
against war for all who do not rise up and hullabaloo and
wave their hats whenever they hear their country's name.
The photography is, on the whole, very good. The balance
and continuity are excellent. But the apparition of the white

CLOSE UP

robed angels all agog with their gravitation, hoisting up the
weighty spirits of the dead they shall arise might well
have been dispensed with. So might much of the sub-titling.
However, see Verdun. It has much to give.

The American Film Meteor presented its first number in
October, and is to be congratulated warmly on the excellence
both of its conception and execution. The A. F. M. is a
monthly journal priced at the low rate of 20 cents a copy, or
2 dollars a year, and edited by Walter Kron, who, inciden-
tally, contributes a delightfully vigorous autobiography,
wrested from him by the publisher, Howard Sanders. I
am," he states, one hundred per cent. Sw^ede. My blood
holds no other race. My father was a baker and my mother
an excellent cook. For two thousand years my forebears have
lived in the land of the midnight sun. I have never been a
hobo nor a prize fighter ; my hair is blond, not red. I have
never worked on a newspaper, nor sold advertising, and I
don't know what truffles look like."

Mr. Kron's self-revelation is brief — which we regret,
having as far back as paragraph one, where he tells us I
am a skeptic, misanthrope with a distinctly negative mind ",
found friendship dawning in us. If the world v/ere full of
such misanthropes life, we feel, would be fairer, and if the
same quality of " negativism " could be found in the minds
of all humanity, we'd be willing to let it go at that !

CLOSE UP

The first number of The American Film Meteor contains —
among other interesting contributions — a searching article on
The Little Theatre, which makes us realise that here is cer-
tainly a journal which is not going to permit compromise or
stand on ceremony. " We must expect," says the writer,

to see much nonsense and doggerel, dizzy shots of sky-
scrapers, proclamations against God, light funny-paper
satire . . . and, in fact, all the disjointed ideas that enter a
director's head. This stuff will be pieced together and
presented as serious art of proportions understandable to only
a select few." This, certainly, is the danger of the Little
Theatre. There is a kind of experimental film which makes
most people feel with the author, that " if the Little Theatre
survives with such notions, then I will go to theatres far more
inviting ". On the other hand, a real service to the cinema
is possible, and, indeed, often rendered by them. The author
is right in his condemnation of the precious — and often
ridiculous atmosphere of pretension w^hich surrounds them,
but he has no word to say for their part in the encouragement
and, more than that, the actual preservation, of film classics;
for the splendid work, to take one instance, done by the
Avenue Pavilion m London, in finding and reviving the
acknowledged masterpieces of the screen.

There are some excellent critical notes on Vocal Movies.
Says the author : " If sound is the one factor that has kept
the movies in a complete morass of primitive notions these
many years, then it holds my support without question."
Our only British examples to date would seem to show that
sound, far from sweeping primitive notions " from the
film., has driven them backward to a naivete which has been

CLOSE UP

laughed even from the stage for the last twenty years !

There are Three Thumbnail Sketches by the Editor of
Raoul Walsh, Ernest Lubitsch and Clarence Brown, which
command admiration for their critical insight; and also the
promise of similar analyses of the work and methods of C. B.
de Milie, Erich Von Stroheim and D. W. Griffith for next
month. We are given some penetrating criticisms of several
films, including Potemkin, White Shadows in the South Seas
and The Last Moment, of which the author says, a large
fanfare of such stuff is not drama nor does it reach any mys-
terious depths With which we are in complete accord.

The American Film Meteor is in every way a stimulating
and — better still — sincere journal, with plenty of vigour and
virility and a real comprehension of the meaning of " the
motion picture as an art That it has no illustrations

whatsoever would point to the probability that there is some
definite prejudice against them, but apart from this, most of
what it has to say is provocative and conducive to profound
thought. Congratulations to its creators, who deserve the full
success which we feel sure awaits them.

K. M.

Many letters have been received asking for information
with regard to renting privately uncut versions of good
foreign films for study. An article will probably appear in
the December issue of Close Up on this point, as the situation
in England with regard to private renting is full of difficulty.

CLOSE UP

The Ufa educational department is releasing a film on pearl
tishing- and oyster breeding. The picture shows many of the
tricks used b}' the Japanese to make the oyster produce pearls
of value long before the ten years which is the average time
the untreated oyster takes to mature the pearl.

•Sc ^ ^

Readers of Close Up are w^arned that there is a movement
on foot to stop the showing of any film with an A. certificate
to voung people imder sixteen, even when accompanied by
their parents. As this would mean that practically no film of
value (owing to the present ill-adjusted system of rating)
would be available for educating the critical taste of the young,
all readers are urged to protest and resist this tightening of
the censorship as much as possible. It should be for parents
to decide what is litting for their children to see, and not
commissions out of touch often with the art and feeling of
the times.

The Production list for Prometheus (1928 — 1929) is one of
the most distinguished on record, and includes two films
directed by Pudowkin. The principal films are : —

Germinal

from the well-known Avork of Emile Zola. Directed
by Pudowkin.

The Living Corpse (Der Lebende Leichnam)

After the novel by Leo Tolstoy. Directed by F. A.
Ozep (director of The Yellow Pass), with W.
Pudowkin starring.

CLOSE UP

Storm over Asia {Sturm iiher Asien)
Directed by W. Pudowkin.

Foreign Blood [Fremdes Blut)

Directed by Scheliabuschky, with ^loskvine starring.

The Way of the Betrayer {Der Weg des Verrdters)
Directed by Scheliabiischkw

Against the Stream (Gegeu den Strom)
{Salamander)
Directed by Roschal, with Bernard Goetzke and
Elsa Ternary.

FILMS TO SEE

First Choice (A). Second Choice (B). Third Choice (C).
Russian.

Bed and Sofa {Trois dans un Sons-Sol). Sud film release.
Ludmila Semenova, W. Fogel and Nicolei Bataloff. Directed
by Alexander Room. Masterpiece of tragic psychology. (A)

End of St, Petersburg, The, Meschrabpom-Russ produc-
tion. Deriissa release. Direction : W. Pudowkin. Mss. :
Natan Zarchi. Photography: Anatolij Golownia. Sets:
Koslowski. Played by Baranowskaja, W. Oblensky as
Lebedeff. J. Tschuwileff and Tschistiakoff . (A)

CLOSE UP

Forty-Firsty The. ^Nleschrabpom-Russ film, Derussa
release. Direction : Protasanov. Particulars elsewhere in
this issue. (B)

Mechanics of the Brain. Scientific film made by W.
Puclowkin and Professor Pavlov. (A)

Moscoii' that Laughs and Weeps. Meschrabpom-Russ,
released by Derussa. Direction : Barnett. Anna Sten, J.
Kowal-Samborski, W. Fogel. Delightful new aspects of
comedy possibility. (B)

Mother, The. Meschrabpom-Russ. From the story by
Maxim Gorki. Direction : W. Pudowkin. The mother :
W. Baranowskaja. The father : Leinstjakoff. The son :
Nicolei Bataloff. (A)

Pits {Die Fallgruben des Lebens), a new film by A. Room.
Meschrabpom-Russ Film. (B)

So7ij The. Sovkino film. Derussa release. Direction :

E. Tscherwjakov. Anna Sten, Gennadij Mitschurin. (B)

Ten Days that Shook the World {Oktober). Sovkino film,
released by Prometheus Film A. G. Direction : S. M. Eisen-
stein. One of the strongest films ever made. Cameraman :
Tisse. Assistant : G. Alexandroff. (A)

Two Days. Wufku Film. Directed by George Stabavoj.

F. E. Samytschkowski in a marvellous role. S. A. Minin as
his son. (A)

CLOSE UP

Yellow Pass, The. Meschrabpom-Russ. Released by
Derussa. Direction : F. Ozep. Anna Sten, J. Kowal-
Samborski, W. Fogel. (B)

Zvenigora. Wufku. Direction : Dobschenko. Nikolas
Nademsky in remarkable character role. (B)

German.

Crisis (Abwege). Erda Film, released by Deutsche-
Universal. Direction : G. W. Pabst. Brigitte Helm, Jack
Trevor, Herta v. Walter, Gustav Diesel, Fritz Odemar. (B)

City Symphony (Berlin). By Walter Ruttman. A day in
Berlin with neither actors nor sets. Photography by Carl
Freund. (B)

Edge of the World {Am Rande der Welt). Ufa. Direction :
Carl Grune. Sets by Neppach. Brigitte Helm, Jean Bradin,
Wilhelm Dieterle, Albert Steinriick. (C)

Looping the Loop. Arthur Robison production for Ufa.
Mss. : Arthur Robison and Robert Liebmann. Photo-
graphy : Carl Hoffmann. Sets by Robert Herlth and Walter
Rohrig. In the cast : Werner Krauss, Jenny Jugo and
Warwick Ward. (C)

Loves of Jeanne Ney. Ufa. Direction : G. W. Pabst.
Mss. : Leonhardt. Photography : F. A. Wagner. Edith
Jehanne, Brigitte Helm, Uno Henning, Fritz Rasp, A. E.
Licho, Vladimir Sokoloft'. (A)

Marquis d^Eon. Emelka Film, directed by Carl Grune,
with superb photography by F. A. Wagner. Liane Haid
mistakenly cast as the Marquis. (C)

CLOSE UP

Master of Niirnberg. Phoebus Film. Direction : Ludwig
Berger. Maria Solveg. Gustav Frohlicli. (C)

Out of the Mist, Defu Production. Direction : Fritz
Wendliausen. ]\Iady Christians, Werner Fuetterer, Vladimir
Sokoloff. (C)

The Spy. Ufa. Fritz Lang Production. Mss. : Thea
von Harbou. Photography : F. A. Wagner. Willy Fritz,
Lupu Pick, Gerda Maurus, Lien Devers, R. Klein-Rogge.
(C)

Tragedy of the Street. Pantomim Film. Direction :
Bruno Rahn. Photography : Guido Seeber. Asta Nielsen
in wonderful role. Oscar Homolka, Hilda Jennings, W.
Pittschaw. (B)

Ten Mark Note, Adventures of. Fox-Europa Production.
Direction : Viertel. Werner Fuetterer, Anna Meiller,
Imogen Robertson, Walter Frank. (C)

Frenxh.

Chapeau de Faille d'ltalie (Italian Straw Hat). Albatross
film. Directed bv Rene Clair. Featuring Olga Tschekowa.
(B)

En Rade. Neofilm. Direction : Alberto Cavalcanti. (B)

Passion de Jeanne d'Arc. Carl Dreyer's great film, with
Falconetti and Sylvain. (B)

Rien que les Heures. Neofilm. Direction : Alberto
Cavalcanti. (B)

CLOSE UP

Therese Raquin. First National. Direction : Jacques
Feyder. (C)

Voyage au Congo, Neofilm. Record by Marc Allegret of
his journey with Andre Gide to the Congo.

American.

Chicago, Pathe-de Mille. With Phyllis Haver and
Victor Varconi. (C)

Docks of New York, Paramount. Directed by Josef von
Sternberg. George Bancroft, Baclanova, Bettv Compson.
(C)

Dragnet, The, Paramount. Deft Underworld touches.
George Bancroft, Wm. Powell. Laurels to Evelyn Brent. (C)

King of Kings, Producers Distributing. Directed by
C. B. de Mille. (B)

Man Who Laughs, The, Universal. Direction : Paul
Leni. Conrad Veidt, Mary Philbin, Baclanova. (C)

First Kiss, The, Fay Wray and Gary Cooper. (C)

Speedy, Paramount A really good Harold Lloyd
comedy. (C)

Stella Polaris, Fox. Fine film of northern hunting. (B)

Sunrise, Fox. Direction: F. W. Murnau. George
O'Brien, Janet Gaynor and Margaret Livingston. (C)

The Avenue Pavilion

101 Shaftesbury Avenue, W. 1

A GAUMONT-BRITISH THEATRE
The Home of International Film Art.

Managing Director - Reginald C. Bromhead. Manager - Leslie Ogilvib.
Director of Music - Arthur Dulay.

The following attractions will be presented exclusive to this theatre :

Premier Presentation —

HE WHO COVETS

A story of Russia, the Bolshevic risings, and Revolution.
Directed by Robert Dinesen. Featuring Olga Tschechowa, Paul Hartman & Robert Dincsen.

KEAN

From the play by Alexandre Dumas, and the authentic documents of the period.
Directed by M. A. Volkoflf. Featuring Ivan Mosjoukine

TWO BROTHERS

The story of an idealist and a materialist.
Directed by Karle Grune. Featuring Conrad Veidt, Lil Dagover & Liane Haid.

THE OYSTER PRINCESS

Pure farce, constructed in the spacious Lubitsch manner — an extravaganza on the subject of
the burden of riches. Directed by Ernst Lubitsch. Featuring Victor Jansen & Ossi Oswalda.

A WOMAN OF PARIS

A story of everyday life, as lived every day by everyday people.
Written and directed by Charles Chaplin. Featuring Edna Purviance & Adolphe Menjou.

MANON LESCAUT

Adapted from the famous and tragical romance by the Abbe Prevost, and the Opera by Massenet.
Directed by Dr. Arthur Robison. Costumes by Paul Leni. Featuring Lya de Putti &

Vladimir Gaidarow.

Premier Presentation —

TARTUFFE

From the story by Moliere. " He who sins in secret does not sin at all.**
Directed by F. W. Mumau. Photographed by Carl Freund. Featuring Emil Jannings,
Werner Krauss and Lil Dagover.

THE LAST LAUGH

The story of an hotel porter whose tragedy lies in the loss of his uniform.
Directed by F. W. Mumau. Featuring Emil Jannings, George John, Emille Kurz & Mady

Delschaft.

Buses to the Door : — Nos. la, ic, 14, 14a, 19c, igd, 22, 24, 29, 29a, 29b, 29c, 38, 39» 48, i39» 138.

In view of the fact that Dates of forthcoming attractions are often unavoidably subject to alteration,
the Management respectfully request Patrons to be guided finally by the advertisements in the
following newspapers : — Times, Daily Telegraphy Morning Post, Daily Express, Daily News, Evening

News, Star, and Standard.

Continuous Performances DAILY, commencing at 2 p.m. till 11 p.m. SUNDAYS 6 — 11
Each session lasts three hoars, thereby making 3 sessions per day, viz : —

2 till s S till 8 8 till II

MATINEES recommended for comfortable choice of seats,

W^nat s Happening
m A merica

along the line of visual
instruction in schools,
and in the general field of public
education, is presented in

Tlie EDUCATIONAL SCREEN

The only magazine in the United States specifi-
cally devoted to the serious side of pictures

New thought on the subject

New productions in educational films

Current opinion on the Hollywood product

The Educatio7ial Screen is known
around the world.

Foreign subscription price :

3.00 for one year 4.00 for two years

THE EDUCATIONAL SCREEN, 5 S. WABASH AVENUE,
CHICAGO, U.S.A.

Join the film bureau

Locate and see only the
better motion pictures

Don't waste time and money seeing
the inferior, uninteresting, stupid
picture when there are really good
pictures to be seen.

Disinterested Advice from
A Discriminating Source

The Film Bureau offers its subscribers
A year's subscription (six issues) to
the Film Bulletin (a monthly guide
to the best pictures), November to
April inclusive. Complimentary and
specially priced tickets for some of
the best pictures. Privately screened
pictures. Service in arranging enter-
tainments in connection with motion
pictures. A fifty per cent discount
in renting The Bureau's Portable
Motion Picture Machines (for private
screenings). An office information ser-
vice and special advantages when it
opens its own Little Picture House.
The subscription is ten dollars a year.

Join now. Application cards and other
data (including a complimentary copy of
the film bulletin) mailed on request

Film Bureau, 4 West 40th
Street, New York, N.Y.

The best voice in a wilderness
of films "

That is what a New York motion picture man has said about The Film Spectator,
edited by Welford Beaton and pubHshed in Hollywood.

Now The Spectator is acclaimed by public and press and Mr. Beaton is referred to
as " America's most discerning motion picture critic He tells the truth about
pictures and the people who make them with rare ability. Hundreds of heartening
letters of commendation have been received.

** Read The Spectator ? Of course ! Where else could I find the same spirit of
courage, conviction, and joyous contempt for consequences ?" — Samuel Hopkins
Adams.

" I read the Film Spectator with increasing interest. There is vigorous and
excellent writing in it." — H. L. Mencken.

" The Film Spectator reveals its editor as a writer of practically perfect English, and
as a man with an analytical mind, a sense of humour and a profound knowledge of the
screen." — ^Arthur D. Howden Smith.

** The numbers sent me confirs Mr. Ralph Flint's suggestions to me that your
magazine is truly the best voice in the wilderness of films. Not only do I find your
judgments honest, but they are penetratingly just." — Symon Gould. Executive
Director, Film Arts Guild, New York.

** Welford Beaton is America's most discerning motion picture critic.** — London
(England) Express.

" Welford Beaton ... a literate writer of motion picture criticism ... his
opinion has been uniformly sound." — New York World.

are some

comments :

Subscription for one year $5.00, foreign $6.00. Single copies free on request.^*

" THE FILM SPECTATOR," 7213 Sunset Blvd. Hollywood, Calif.
Flease find enclosed $ .for yearly subscription to '* The Film Spectator.

LES EDITIONS

Pierre Braunberger

dans

films

pendent

monde

entier

les

meilleurs

Apef^-pous besoin d'un conseil

ARTISTIQUE? TECHNIQUE?
COMMERCIAL ? FINANCIER ?

Nous vous mettrons en relation avec les meilleurs specialistes
du monde cinematographique

15 avenue Matignon 15

PARIS VHP

Telephone : Elysee 86-84

THE DIAL

A MONTHLY MAGAZINE
OF ART AND LITERATURE

FOUNDED 1880

EDITOR : MARIANNE MOORE

BY FRANCIS F. BROWNE

ADVISER : SCOFIELD THAYER

42>

(^mong recent contributors are

W. C. BLUM
KENNETH BURKE
E. E. CUMMINGS
H. D.

FRANK DOBSON

RALPH CHEEVER DUNNING

ROGER FRY

ALYSE GREGORY

GASTON LACHAISE

MARIE LAURENCIN

D. H. LARWENCE
THOMAS MANN
PAUL MORAND
RAYMOND MORTIMER
PABLO PICASSO
PAUL ROSENFELD
GERTRUDE STEIN
PAUL VALERY

WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

. . . often full of very interesting things, and is so well printed y
and makes for good all round." The Mask, July 1925

ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION FIVE DOLLARS

(Foreign postage 60 cents additional)

-L^^ddress

152 WEST 13th STREET NEW YORK

A Young Society

NEOFILM

groups young producers under
the artistic and technical direction
of Alberto Cavalcanti who
directed the 3 first Neofilm
productions

RIEN QUE EES HEURES
EN RADE

ANDRE GIDE and MARC ALLEGRETS
Travel Picture

is a Neofilm Production

YVETTE

L,a plus import ante revue francaise

de Qinema

La Cinematograpkie
Francaise

CHAQUE SEMAINE TOUTES LES NOUVELLES DU CINfiMA

Films en Preparation
Analyses des Nouveaux Films
Ckronique Je L Exploitation

Ckromque Fiiianciere

LES PROGRE5 DE LA TECHNIQUE
LES NOUVELLES INVENTIONS

O^uvelles d' Angle terre, Am'erique, Allemagne, Espagne, Italic

DIRECTEUR RfiDACTEUR EN CHEF: P.-A. HARLfi
5 RUE SAULNIER PARIS (9')

Telephone : Provence 02. 13

BOOKS

Poetry and Music

Essays and Criticism

Art and Architecture

Novels and Stories

Sports and Games

Psychology

Religion and Science

Gardening and Nature

French

German

Fine Printing

Old and Rare Books

Books for Travellers

The Best Books in Fine
Bindings

BOOKBINDING in
Cloth and Leather

Plays and the Theatre

Travel and Adventure

Crime and Mystery

Biography and Memoirs

History and Politics

Philosophy

The Ancient World

Greek and Latin Literature

Italian

Spanish

TheWorkofthePrivatePresses

Modern First Editions

Books for Visitors

Old Coloured Plate
Books

BOOKPLATES Designed
AND Engraved

JOHN AND

EDWARD

Limited,
Booksellers

BUMPUS

350 Oxford Street, London, W.l

We invite you to subscribe to

The ^American Film Meteor

a monthly critical review of motion
pictures in general

Edited hy WALTER KRON

It is published in Hollywood, yet it views
motion pictures, not with the provincial
mind, but in the cosmopolitan manner.

Its contents are frank and learned. Our
sympathies are with the artistic craftsmen
of motion pictures, entirely.

For intellectual, stimulating reading, The
American Film Meteor is unique in the
field of motion picture publications.

$2.00 a

year

20 cents a copy

Canada

$2.50

Foreign $3.00

Send all orders to :

The American Film jideteor

974 No. EL CENTRO AVENUE
Hollywood, California, U. S. A.

FROM
FIFTY
COUNTRIES
OF
THE
WORLD
COME
MEMBERS
TO
THE

AMATEUR CINEMA

LEAGUE

AND

READERS
TO

MOVIE MAKERS

The AMATEUR CINEMA
LEAGUE, the pioneer international
organization of cine-amateurs, in-
\dtes your membership at Five
Dollars a year {same price all over
the world), which includes MOVIE
MA KERS monthly. MO VIE
MAKERS, the leading journal on
amateui movie photography, is
published in English and is read
everwhere. It supplements the
technical services of the League to
amateur cinematographers.

Write for information— including a copy of MOVIE MAKERS

free — to

Amateur Cinema League Inc.

105 WEST FORTIETH STREET NEW YORK CITY U.S.A.

WHEN

is a Movie Maker not a

Movie Maker

but still is a

Movie Maker

The answer to the above is : " When he's merely a 'button-pusher*/'
No doubt you know that a '^button-pusher" is a person who takes
no pride in his films — one who will not read cinematic literature
because he thinks it's too dry. Well, lets leave him in that ecstasy

of bliss.

A real movie maker reads all the literature he can — and especially
does he read

THE CINE-MINIATURE

monthly monographs, because he knows that by doing so he learns how
to make movies of professional quality and brilliance.

What are you? A movie maker or a button-pusher } If you are
a movie maker, you will prove it by either calling at your dealer's for
a single copy of the latest number at 25c; or you will send $2.50
for a year's subscription to :

CINEMATOGRAPHIC PUBLISHERS

1630 CAPITOL BUILDING, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

If You Are
Interested

CAMERA
CRAFT

You Are
Interested
in Qood
Photog'
raphy

in
Motion

Pictures

CAMERA CRAFT

the beautiful monthly

Covers the Whole Field of Photography

Give yourself the monthly pleasure of reading this magazine.

As a gift it brings joy into the recipient's heart and is a
reminder, twelve times a year, of your thoughtfulness.

United States and Possessions $2.00
Canada $2.25 ^ Other Foreign Countries $2.50
Sample Copy on Request

Camera Craft Publishing Company

703 MARKET STREET y SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

SOON VOLUME THREE!

"REFERENCE BOOK for the FUTURE " !

Close Up^ Vol. Ill needs but one number to complete it. Your volume
must be secured. What a fascinating record of progress it will be in
ten years' time ! How fascinating it will be to turn over pages fore-
casting things long since come to pass, to trace developments back to
their controversial source ! Ah," you wtU say, those were pioneer
days ! " Names now great recalling memories, photographs reminding
you of films which deeply moved you ! Finalities and pronouncements
that will seem like echoes from long ago.

Who can say ? In ten years Close Up Vol. Ill may seem laughable,
or tragic or great or quaint, or something of each and all. Yoii will
be wise to buy it. Order it now, and save the risk of forgetting
what later you will want to recall.

Bound in white vellum — an ideal Christmas gift 12s. 6d.
Bound cloth back-board - - _ - JOs.

CLOSE UP, Vol. II is still obtainable at above prices.

REMEMBER IT WILL BE A VALUABLE

Buy Close Up Now for the Future !

Order Form

Please supply Close Up, Vol

bound in

1 vellum

I board (cloth back)

Name

Address

Postal Order I
Cheque J

is enclosed for

Postage on all volumes 6d, extra

Hand this form to your bookseller, or send direct to

POOL /-^^^^^ Chateau, Territet, Switzerland
I24, Devonshire Street, London, W.C.i

BEST WISHES TO CLOSE UP I

LEWIS MILESTONE

"Seven Sinners."
"The Caveman."
" Two Arabian Knights.
"The Garden of Eden.
"The Racket."

Impressed by

THE MERCURY PRESS LTD.
LONDON ILFORD CHELMSFORD

Tel.: Central 5316-7 Tel.: Ilford 2018-9 Tel.: Chelmsford 516

ENGLAND
1928

rniconventionc^L

introduction

We are a new illustrated magazine written in English and published
in France who, rightly or wrongly, think we are unconventional. At
least we call ourselves that.

And our address is : Villa Bernard, Barbizon, Seine-et-AIarne, France.

We should be glad to number you among our acquaintances. We
think that you would find pleasure and profit in cultivating ours.

Your Name

and Address

will bring you a copy of the first number.

Film Fur Alle

the first monthly pubhcation
in Europe devoted to the
problems of purely amateur
cinematography

Editor :

Andor Kraszna-Krausz, Berlin
Publisher :

Wilhelm Knapp, Halle/Saale, Miihlweg 19

Subscription 2.25 R.M. quarterly

Specimen number free on request

Filmtechnik

is the only film newspaper in
the world to deal exhaustively
with all technical problems
of film creation

It is entirely independent
of industrial influence

Editor :

Andor Kraszna Krausz, Berlin
Publisher :

Wilhelm Knapp, Halle/Saale, Miihlweg 19

Subscription 5.25 R.M. quarterly
Specimen number free on request

DON'T FORGET TO ORDER EARLY

the two new POOL books . . .

Film Protlems of iSoviet

by BRYHER, author of Civilians, West, Development, Two Selves, etc., etc.

An invaluable book coming at a time when the Russian film is paramount in
the interest and attention of all film students and followers. Keen analysis
and discussion. Highly informative, and copiously illustrated. An earnest
and profound contribution which will go far to clear up many misunderstand-
ings in relation to the Soviet cinema and its methods. Price 6 shillings.

rougk a Yellow Glass

by OSWELL BLAKESTON.

A dynamic survey of the world of the cinema, seen through a yellow glass " —
a method employed to judge] the photographic colour values of your scene.
The judgment is accurate, immediate and incredibly reveahng. Here is
a complete mine of information not only for the student, the professional,
and the amateur, but facts which everybody wants to know. From the tech-
nicalities of lenses and photography, to the generalities of how to " get into the
movies," there is something for everyone to learn, and everyone to chuckle
over. Price Is, 6d.

Why not give both or either of these books for
Christmas gifts ? They can be sent by us direct
in special gift boxes to any address at 14s. (>d,
for the twoy or at the above prices respectively y
plus 6d, postage. Greeting cards can be en-
closed by arrangement.

Order from POOL direct in London qr Switzerland
or from any of booksellers stocking CLOSE UP.

THE PREMIER INDEPENDANT FILM MONTHLY

Puts the Screen Art of the World Before You
SPECIAL FEATURE OF EXCLUSIVE ILLUSTRATIONS

Price i/-

Vol. Ill No. 6 DECEMBER 1928

CLOSE UP

DECEMBER 1928

1 Shilling
5 Francs
I Mark
35 Cents
I Franc Swiss

London Office :

24 DEVONSHIRE STREET,
W.C.I

(For all business matters in England)
Sole American and Canadian Distributors :

THE FILM ARTS GUILD
500 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

Through whom all enquiries in America and
Canada with reference to Close Up should
be made.

CLOSE UP

"VARIETES"

Revue mensuelle illustree
de Tesprit contemporain

Directeur : P. G. van Hecke

Chaque nUmero de VARIETES contient :
64 reproductions — 56 pages de texte — nombreux dessins.

des contes, des essais, des poemes, des notes critiques et d'actualite
sur la litterature, les arts plastiques, le cinema, le theatre, la mode,
la musique, la curiosite, etc., par de nombreux coUaborateurs

les chroniques mensuellcs regulieres suivantes :

Tragedies et divertissements populaires, par . . Pierre Mac Orlan
Des rues et des carrefours (lettre de Paris), par . . . . Paul Fierens

Le sentiment critique, par Denis Marion

La chronique des disques, par Franz Hellens

Aux soleils de minuit, par Albert Valentin

" VARIETES " publishes every month a number of reproductions
from exclusive stills of classic and avant garde films, with criticisms
by Albert Valentin and Denis Marion.

Prix de Tabonnement pour douze numeros Tan :
22 belgas.

(Demandez un num^ero specimen gratuit)
Direction et Administration:

II AVENUE du CONGO II
BRUXELLES : BELGIQUE

CLOSE UP

Editor: K. Macpherson
Assistant Editor : Bryher

Published by POOL
Riant Chateau * Territet • Switzerland
London Office : 24 Devonshire St., W.C.i

Contents

As Is

An Early Work
The Cinema in Paris
Film Imagery : Eisenstein
The Cinema in Retrospect — II
A Museum of the Movies
How to Rent a Film .
A Fairy-Tale Film .
Apotres et Multitude
Two Film Snags
Comment and Review

Kenneth Macpherson

OSWELL BlAKESTON

Jean Lenauer
Robert Herring
Clifford Howard
K.M.

Bryher

A. Kraszna Krausz
Freddy Chevalley
P. A. LE Neve Foster

Paris Correspondents :

London Correspondent :
Hollywood Correspondent
New York Editor :
Berlin Correspondent :
Geneva Correspondent :

/Marc Allegret
IJean Lenauer

Robert Herring
: Clifford Howard

Symon Gould

A. Kraszna- Krausz

F. Chevalley

Subscription Rates :

ENGLAND . . 14 shillings per year

FRANCE ... 70 francs per year

GERMANY . . 14 marks per year
AMERICA . . 3 dollars and 50 cents per year

SWITZERLAND . 14 francs per year

CLOSE UP

Vol. Ill No. 6 December 1928

AS IS

BY THE EDITOR.

Once again on the subject of Russian films, if that is not
too great a liberty, a few words, not in reply to anybody in
particular, but because of criticisms in general, and dishonesty
slightly more flagrant than that usually dished out in the
critical columns.

And why did Mr. Atkinson have to talk as he did on the
radio ? Britons are individually a fair minded people, and
the most tight-laced Tory could not but admit — in fact, did
admit and even protested — that if dice were overloaded, if
Truth had been surgically demolished, if misrepresentation
had run riot and falsehood shamed Jack's beanstalk as a
flourishing garden weed, this certainly was not confined to
Russia and to Mother in particular, but met its master in the
O so bed-time-story of our truculent friend.

While on the subject of Mother, you must have read, too,
all over the place, that it was a devilish, cunning, reprehen-
sible tissue of lies, that the workers were represented as so
many guileless lambs led to the slaughter, that Justice was
made a farce and an abomination, and— in short — that since

CLOSE UP

the workers were represented as other than besotted cut-throats
the whole thing was a dangerous fake and must be suppressed
at all costs. In the middle of such condemnations would
appear sentences something like these : Mr. Pudowkin's
genius is prostrated by his one-sidedness. The picture ceases
to grip on this account. Authority and Justice are repre-
sented as brutal to a degree, made up of types (and here is
Pudowkin's'' cunning ") which emerge with all the terrifying
and convincing truth of a Galsworthy study.'' Either this is
suggesting (with devilish cunning) that Mr. Galsworthy's
types prostrate his genius, being consummate falsehoods, or
else you have to discount the whole criticism since you cannot
have convincing or terrifying truth emerging from a tissue
of lies.

Certainly to read all these silly, muddled critiques you
would assume that the Russian Revolution sprang merely
from a little light-hearted perversity. You would also assume
incidentally, and this rightly, that the class hatred and venom
which they claim to have discovered in Russian films is
nowhere more pronounced than in their own criticisms. Can
Close Up, then, in the face of all this tomfoolery, justly be
dubbed biassed? Mr. Macpherson deceives no one, says one
of them. Mr. Macpherson, to the best of his knowledge, has
never sought to deceive any one. Not all Russian films are
excellent, says the same critic, because Russia is politically
unpopular, and not all Anglo-Saxon films are bad because
Anglo-Saxondom has refused to accept the theories of Com-
munism. . . Is it not possible that Anglo-Saxon films are
bad because the attitude governing them suffers from much
the same irrelevancy as this statement?

CLOSE UP

Anglo-Saxondom (not Angles, but Angels) must be less
bitter, less angry, less afraid. There is good material, there
are good and willing workers, there are Vv'onderful possibili-
ties, and we and many others are waiting with friendship and
support for the time when they will emerge, not with cudgels
and not with T.X.T. There is a great place in the world for
British films. The ultimate power of Europe will in part
depend on Anglo-Saxondom. Germany and France the
wings, England the body. They must operate together. The
body cannot learn to fly without the wings. But it can learn
to fly by assimilating the principles of flying, and if Russia
happens to have the best method, surely it is common enough
sense to learn from them instead of wasting good time and
energy saying that those who suggest it are trying to over-
throw the Empire?

Anglo-Saxons all, we have much to learn and far to go.
Let us admit it. Let me try to think of a good British film
and I will give you Moulin Rouge^ with its German director
and cosmopolitan cast. Not that this matters, for any one
should be able to make a picture anywhere. But you could
not blow a fanfare for Anglo-Saxondom here without includ-
ing a blare or two for Germany, Czechoslovakia (if that is
where Tschekowa comes from) and France. Yes, we have far
to go. Our critic here on page 12 here beside me marvels at
the perspicacity of Rin Tin Tin, but Mother, says he, could
not possibly be shown. Poteinkin, you know, lies in War-
dour Street, but you are liable to, I think it's penal servitude
for life if you so much as try to touch it !

One has to come back like a dog to a bone always to wonder
again and again just how all this can possibly have come

CLOSE UP

about. America did bring itself to show about a third of The
End of St. Petersburg and slightly less, perhaps, of Potemkin
and Joyless Street, but even that is something. Moreover,
America has given us films we can go to and be comforted by,
like warming one's hands at a fire, and films like Moana, and
Grass and Nanook and Chang and Stella Polaris or Lost in
the Arctic, of which we do not have to speak except in praise.
But England gave us Mons as an answer to The Big Parade,
and Britannia as an answer to The Saturday Evening Post,
and one wishes it would stop answering back and get on with
its own development. We shudder to think what its answer
would be to Ten Days That Shook the World or to the forth-
coming Storm Over Asia, for answer it would given only half
a chance. We must bend our backs, you must bend your
backs to make films that others will answer. There's your
task, directors. Truly you'll need the help of the Holy Ghost.

Can it be done? You are dubious. But you are trying,
you are straining and struggling, working with joy and fury
and rage and despair, with love and infinite pains and with
miracles. Let me tell you I have seen men working thus ;
you are not impressed. Let me tell you, if it's a question of
money, millionaires work in much the same way. I once
heard a director say Oh, that's good enough But it

wasn't. He is still seeking a job.

We have not caught up to America yet, how can you
expect us to catch up to Russia?" Who would have the
honesty to put it that way ? That is what it amounts to. But
what work, what revaluation, what intellect and energy and
striving it would mean ! ' ' We are not so badly oft' as we are,
now you shut up."

CLOSE UP

Meanwhile we have Red Dancers of Moscow and Patriots.
Hush Russia up. Mr. Macpherson and his over-
enthusiastic contributors would prove too much about their
Sovkino friends." Oh, far too much, far, far too much for
the man who wants to just jog along. And why? Simply
because they are not afraid of asking you to work for that
not-too-smallish salary. Go to it.

Kenneth Macpherson.

AN EARLY WORK

By OswELL Blakeston.

Before Joyless Street, The Loves of Jeanne Ney, or
Bypaths — Don^t Play with Love! — I saw it run through in a
little projection room in Wardour Street. The copy was old,
men carrying stacks of film tins kept on passing through the
room, the screen was too small for the throw " ; I tabulated
every adverse condition, but I could not feel that I was seeing
Pabst. I never would have guessed that the director of this
film was to give us some of our greatest pictures, had I seen
it before the others.

The chief interest in the film lies, then, in its lapses, film
conventions that Pabst would now scorn, for the story is dull

CLOSE UP

and (still worse) it is uncinematic. Prince ]^Iax Werner has
aged before he has tired of light-hearted love affairs with the
ladies behind the footlights. His friend, ]\Iichael Hennet, is
one of those lucky movie heroes, the only child of a multi-
millionaire ; and his chief occupation is his daily riding lesson
at Theodore Nepallek's riding school. But (you have
guessed it?) Michael is not really so interested in the horses,
but in Theodore Xepallek's daughter Paula, who lives
sedately at the Palace, which has been converted into the
riding school. Prince ^lax invites Michael, as a kind of
added attraction, to dine in a private room with himself and
Eleanor Palmar, a prima donna, who presumably is allowed
to look at Michael if she reserves her conversation, and other
favours, for Max. This complicated system of giving a
dinner is spoilt by Amina Hirst, a music-hall actress, who
bursts in on the little party declaring that her companion is
a bore, and may she have a cigarette? Polite Michael holds
out his case and is rewarded with the theft of Paula's minia-
ture. Professional training helps Amina to guess that
Michael is the son of a millionaire and she returns the minia-
ture to Paula with a note, savino' " ]\Ir. ]ylichael Hennet
left this picture at my house. If he has been careless enough
to leave my photograph in your house, perhaps you will
return it to me. Yours sincerely, Amina Hirst." On the
same day, at the same hour, the Government, who seem to
know more about movies than most Governments, decide to
sell the furniture in the royal palace. Paula's father is ter-
ribly grieved, for he treasures each piece, and as Mr. Hennet,
senior, buys the entire collection for his son Michael, is
regarded with suspicion.

CLOSE UP

At this point in the story I lost touch, and I can only
remember incidents. The situations call for countless people
arriving at the enormous doors of the palace, and each time
the doors are shot from the same angle. Eleanor, played by
Erna IMorena, is a baffling character; I could not make out
why so much footage was devoted to her conversations with
Michael. The next incident that I recall clearly was Paula
being told to choose between the Prince or Michael. Poor
Michael feels insulted at her choice, seeks out the unfortunate
Prince, who is enjoying another dinner, less complicated this
time, in an exclusive restaurant, and dashes a glass full of
wine into his face. Werner Krauss, disguised as the Prince,
behaves with beautiful restraint ; during the rest of the picture
he just underacts, and his indifferent performance is as
puzzling as the confused direction.

A duel. The combination of Krauss and a duel made me
think of The Student of Prague, so that the duel may have
been thrilling in spite of the fact that it was spoilt for me.
Krauss, with more beautiful restraint, refuses to shoot
Michael, who, in despair, turns his pistol on himself.

The- Prince and Paula go to Paris. A series of composite
shots of electric signs, streets and shops and (oh dear ! oh
dear !) the Eiffel Tower. La Bal du Moulin Rouge " and
the Prince and Paula watching the Charleston. No need to
go to the Plaza to laugh at the films of twenty years ago, the
wild abandon with which the dancers throw about their legs
in this scene seems equally remote and ridiculous as any
fashion parade of 1908. Seated at a table near the Prince
and Paula are a young couple verv much in love. The Prince
and Paula look at them. Large close up of the Prince's hand

CLOSE UP

pouring out a glass of champagne. Paula takes a glance at
the young couple, raises the glass to her lips and — DOES
NOT get drunk, instead, she asks her father to take her home,
(I had already visualized the walls flying round and mixing
to the diners — photographed in a spherical mirror.) In the
hotel lift Paula meets the young couple once more, she goes
to her room and dreams of Michael, so that the Prince receives
the Avelcome she has given to Michael in her dream. After
the Prince has left the room she runs to the door and flattens
herself against it in the form of a decorative cross, an example
of one of the stupid film conventions that would not be found
in a modern Pabst.

The film flickers quickly to its happy end. Paula realizes
how silly it is " to play with love " and flies back to Michael's
bedside, where he is recovering from his wound, while the
Prince resumes his friendship with Eleanor. We are not
even spared the final sequence where Michael goes to work,
cheered by the love of Paula, in his father's factory.

It is difficult, with imported films, to know how^ much of
the muddle and spinelessness is due to the English editor and
censor, yet one is tempted to ask how Pabst learnt to be the
genius cutter of The Loves of Jeanne Ney, There are two
shots juxtaposed which must have been so placed in the
original version because nothing could conceivably have been
placed between them. In one shot there is a triangular white
polished floor of a large hall, in the other a black triangular
mass of a library, but the apex of the white triangle is higher
in the picture than the apex of the black triangle; the result
of the juxtaposition of these two shots gives the immediate
effect that the picture is out of rack Smooth cutting

CLOSE UP

demands careful attention to the opposing of the masses of
black and white. Another fault noticeable in the film, which
is the fault of the director and often attributed to the cutter,
is that characters arriving before a door walk with slower gait
than when we glimpsed them in a long shot hurrying down a
street. The set constructed in the studio, representing the
door and adjoining walls, is not large enough for the actor
to get into his stride, he should be made to start his walk at
least a dozen yards before he enters the picture, whereas he is
generally waiting for his cue just out of the picture.

In the afternoon of the same day I saw the trade-show of
Show Life, a German picture directed by Richard Eichberg,
starring the little ex-laundry girl, ex-Hollywood actress,
Anna May Wong. I am myself a " fan " of Anna May
Wong, and I used to \\onder if she would ever leave Holly-
wood to work with people who might appreciate her charm,
for Hollywood seemed to be blind to the grace of the little
creature. The American casting directors occasionally gave
her small parts of Chinese serving maids, but she had to go to
Germany to be made a star.

Paradoxical as it may sound, Anna May has gone to
Germany only to be Americanized, for Show Life is full of
the stock movie situations punctuated by large heads of the
star. Richard Eichberg, the director, is the author of many
film comedies.

There were some amusing comparisons to be drawn
between the two films. Mary Kid in Show Life plays a
typical vamp, with frizzed hair and glittering gowns ; Maria
Paudler, the Amina of Don't Play with Love, is quite a
creature of flesh and blood. Her broad face is certainly not

CLOSE UP

pretty, while her clothes, especially the short morning wrap,
are sufficiently ugiy to be part of her characterization. In
the scene that I have already mentioned, when Paula opens
her arms to the Prince believing him to be Michael and sud-
denly realizes her mistake, G. Pabst allows Werner
Krauss to wrap his dressing-gown more tightlv around his
body and leave the room. Richard Eichberg would have
made Henrich George throw half a dozen knives.

And in the photography. The copy of Don't Play iK^ith
Love was scratched, nevertheless there was a pleasing natural-
ness abotit Seeber's camera work; Heinrich Gaertner, on the
other hand, uses white gauzes throughout ShoiL' Life to
smudge the edges of his pictures, and his effect arcs in the
lamps of a studio street were so strong that they flared in
the most unlifelike manner. The worst example is a travel-
ling shot when Anna May Wong walks down the same studio
street followed by a powerful spot light. There was also a
meaningless pan from a mirror to two actors standing in front
of it and back again to the mirror, where nothing is gained
hv shooting into the mirror as no third person enters the
room. It is just a tr\'ing moment of \lr. Eichberg showing
the critics that he has grown out of his revue girl comedies,
and that he can move his camera with the best of them.

This much I can sav for the early Pabst, but it was not
distinguished.

I have so often rhapsodized in Close Up over Joyless Street
and Jeanne Xey that I hope I have a right to make these
comments.

CLOSE UP

THE CINEMA IN PARIS

Perhaps it is only recently that the significance of the
special Paris cinemas has emerged. These cinemas, which
were destined in the beginning solely for intelligent spectators
who demanded better material for the screen, have become,
it seems to me, places where you may see ordinarily good
films ; that is to say, films which ought to please everyone and
which ought to be understood by all classes. Whereas last
year these cinemas, as a general rule, showed films with a
limited range, that is to say, films which could not be shown
in the commercial cinemas, to-day their programmes must be
considered in a totally different light.

The Studio des Ursulines, manao'ed so ablv hv Tallier
and Murga, has been showing for over two months Howard
Hawks' film, A Girl In Every Port. After its exclusive run
at the Ursulines, this film will certainlv pass on to the cinemias
of a more popular type. Here, surely, is real progress, for
last year the experimental and abstract films shown here, in-
teresting as attempts, were considered erroneously as the
cinema's true future. A Girl In Every Port confirms mv
hypothesis with regard to the nature of the small cinemas,
for this frank and delightful film will on its own merits satisfy
everyone. Additionally, they are shoAving the technically
interesting film of ]\Ian Ray, Star of the Sea, While not

CLOSE UP

" true cinema perhaps, it is very beautiful and well made.
The fluid images which Man Ray obtained with the use of
ground glass in front of his lens are of a magical beauty, like
impressionistic paintings, charming the eye with the suavity
of their flow. Man Ray has rendered perfectly the peculiar
atmosphere of a modern poem. Clearly such was his inspira-
tion, and the result is very remarkable.

Georges Lacombe, Rene Clair's assistant, is also showing
at the Ursulines a documentaire on the Zone, that vague terri-
tory encircling Paris between the city and the suburbs. An
extraordinary section, this, inhabited mostly by rag-and-bone
men. The sombre and bitter beauty of the district has been
well captured in this film. Can one rightly call this a docu-
vientaire ? For Lacombe shows it to us from a very special
and personal angle, and makes us see as he himself must
have seen the Zone and its inhabitants. In one small scene
two actors are employed, but their acting merges so into the
rhythm that it is not apparent to those who see it. Hence this
can scarcely be termed a document, for it is not solely a report-
ing of facts, but rather an excursion or small voyage seen
through the eyes of Georges Lacombe. Not that this is in
any way a reproach, for we are held constantly by the pic-
tures and not for a moment bored. The photography and
cutting are equally praiseworthy, and it is made with a
technical exactitude which has the great merit of being in no
way pretentious.

The Cine Latin has revived Room's Bed and Sofa, and its
orchestra has been replaced by mechanical music.

The original installation of this, however, was made in the
Studio 28, and now we have it also in the newest special

Photo : Derussa

Alexandra Woizich who plays the leading role in The Forty First.

Photo : Derussa

The Forty First.

Two scenes from All For A Woman [Loves of Ike Mighty) the historic
film of Dimitri BuchoAvetzki, shortly to be seen at the Avenue in
London. Jannings, as Danton (below) gives one of his most famous

roles.

By Courtesy of Varietes.

Typical scenes from White Shadows in the South Seas, a Metro-
Goldwyn-Mayer production, directed by W. S. Van Dyke, in which
the leading parts are played by Monte Blue and Raquel Torres,
supported by a large cast of natives of Tahiti, where the picture

was taken.

Giving the Movies A Voice. . . . Tons of steel and concrete, huge two-
ton doors and other elaborate details went into building the giant sound-
proof stages forM.G.M. Movietone at the Metro-Goldwvn-Maver studios.

From Emil Jannings' latest Lasky-Paramount picture, The Sins
of the Fathers, directed by Ludwig Berger, and scheduled for re-
lease in December. Above, Wilhelm Spengler (Emil Jannings) as
aprosperous and contented restaurant keeper. Below with Zazu
Pitts, who plays the part of his wife.

CLOSE UP

cinema, the Salle des Agriculteurs. Unfortunately, it has
not yet been grasped that a cinema needs special construction.
The Salle des Agriculteurs, which was originally a concert
room, could hardly be termed distinguished for its comfort.
Its opening programme consisted of Voyage en Tripolitaine
by Marc Allegret, Rien que Les Heures by Cavalcanti, and
also that delightful film by Roy del Ruth, Wolves Clothing.
The second programme contained Le Perroquet Vert, by Jean
Milva, which would have been interesting had not the young
director been crippled by an almost impossible scenario.
Therefore, while the film holds much promise, it is not vrai
cine '\ Its chief value was in the acting of Pierre Batchefif,
an actor who so frequently mis-directed, shows here an
astonishing sincerity.

At the Studio 28 has been a document on Leo Tolstoy,
which seems a little old-fashioned and out of place, in addition
to which was Tolstoy's Puissance des Tenehres, This, in
spite of certain qualities, has aged perceptibly and disappoints
on account of the falsity of acting common to its period. La
Marche des Machines, an experimental film by the young
Ukrainian director, Eugen Deslaw, who is, at the time of
writing, in Paris, has great interest. With no story whatever
it is composed of cinematographic rhythm, effects achieved by
brisk cutting (Russian), and shows us the overwhelming and
almost irreal force of machines in motion. He has found
many unfamiliar machines which achieve astonishing effects
of movement. I myself like the verity of the subject, but I
do make this reservation : Deslaw was quite ruthless and cold
in his experimental film and it is unlikely it will be approved
by the general public. ; r;/l

CLOSE UP

The Vieux Colombier's first programme contained Stern-
berg's magnificent film, Underworld, which, in my opinion,
should be classed among the masterpieces of the screen.
Underworld has lately been replaced by Galeen's Student of
Prague,

It will be seen that on the whole there has been an important
evolution in the programmes of the special cinemas which
undoubtedly tends very much to the good.

It is much harder to speak of French production which
seems to have landed itself in an impasse from which there is
no escape.

The reason is perhaps that in France, with the exception of
a few enthusiasts, the real elements of cinematography have
not yet been understood. Even the most interesting directors
let themselves be led away — though they have no other option
than to work for those w^ho pay them — into making films which
may be interesting and well constructed so far as they go,
but which lead one no farther in the development of the
French cinema. France at this moment is too self-centred and
not eager enough to know what is happening in other coun-
tries. Let me recount an example of the unjust and foolish
restrictions that are being made.

Last year a society called Les Amis de Spartacus was formed
to show films of special interest, and above all those which
could not be seen for various reasons in the ordinary cinemas.
Naturally, they showed Russian films, such as Mother,
Potemkin, The End of St. Petersburg and Ten Days. A few
weeks ago this society was informed that it could not show
in future any film that had not been submitted to the censor
in the ordinary way. And as Russian films are almost never

CLOSE UP

passed by the censor this virtually amounted to their being
entirely blocked. There was nothing so extraordinary in this,
perhaps, except that scarcely anybody protested against such
a violation of intellectual liberty. But the story became much
more significant and inimical when it transpired that the firm
of Aubert (which possesses a large circuit of cinemas in Paris)
had acquired exclusive rights to show Russian films through-
out France. There is no reason why Aubert should not gain
money through showing Russian films, but the danger is that
they will be cut in a ruthless manner. The opponents of the
Russian cinema will point to these incoherent remnants and
prove from them that Russian films are bad. So far no one
has protested against this broad injustice.

To return to French production. Jacques Feyder (who is
shortly going to America) has finished Les Nouveaux
Messieurs. I think this will count among the two or three
French films of the year. Albert Prejean, Gaby Morlay and
Henry Roussel are included in the cast. In it we shall see
also a sitting in the Chamber of Deputies which ought to be
amusing.

Cavalcanti is finishing the cutting of Capitaine Fracasse,
with Pierre Blanchar, Lien Deyers and Charles Boyer. It is
an historical film, and for that reason I am a little doubtful
whether Cavalcanti, who is so essentially modern in spirit,
will not lose himself in a subject that must be quite alien to
him. ,

Marc Allegret has just finished Papoul, a comedy after
Louis d*H6e, with Alex Allin and Colette Dafeuil as chief
actors.

CLOSE UP

Marcel THerbier is now cutting his latest film, L*Argent,
after Zola, with an international cast, including Brigitte Helm,
Alfred Abel, Marie Glory, Alcover, an English actor Henry
Victor, and Yvette Guilbert. There will be many spectacular
sets.

Jean Gremillion, who gave us that very visual and poetic
seascape. Tour au Large, is now directing for a new society,
" Le Grand Guignol " (which proposes to give to the screen
programmes similar to those already given to the theatre),
Le Gardien du Phare, with Gilbert Dalleu. But it is question-
able if the adaptation of such theatrical pieces for the screen is
desirable.

And that is all. I have noted here the films from which
one has some right to expect a certain artistic merit. I hope
we may not be disappointed in them, but shall we be so
fortunate ?

Jean Lenauer.

FILM IMAGERY: EISENSTEIN

Admitted that I have only seen two films of this director.
But he is going to Hollywood, and when you consider that
the result of even Tourjanski working even in Berlin is that
Lillian Hall-Davis is the heroine of a Russian film, you
will feel that it is truly now or never. As I have only seen

CLOSE UP

two, it is more natural than ever that I should talk about
Potemkin; it is essential, and it helps that so many others
have. Stills, too, are so sunk into peoples' minds that they
will at once know what I am talking about. Those guns and
the doctor and the bit of meat are so familiar, you do not
have to expend energy in taking in the fact that I am saying
that in a film called (pardon me) Potemkin there is a bit of bad
meat, you know it already and can progress a little further.
In fact, listen to something new about the meat, w^hich may
atone for what you think we are all doing, killing the film, as
books have been killed, by too much criticism.

In these articles I am not, so far, discussing what film
imagery is, nor dealing with the " images ", in the other
sense, of which each shot consists, each picture on the square
being a light-brown pattern of black and white. That is a
cross-cut question, that latter one, and the first is best con-
sidered when we have seen what such and such directors do,
and so can reach a general conclusion that we know about.
A spade must be assumed to be a spade till we have seen it
digging. Images " here then mean, not the French
meaning, but the screen equivalent of ephithet, metaphor and
simile. So now, Potemkin begins with some shots of water,
the sea. The first sub-title says that cold, or dark, and
unruhig broke the day. And the first thing evident about
the film is that there is more imagery in the sub-title than in
the shot. The seascape is straightforward, atmospheric,
reminds you what sailors do, what they are up against, sea
and cold, and of the spirit that made them be sailors. The
sub-title is atmospheric, too, but it says two things, or if you
prefer, it means one thing while seeming to say another. It

CLOSE UP

seems to be talking about the quality of the sea, yet we feel
at once prepared for what follows about the crew, the day
dawns dark, as so many have, the atmosphere on panzer-
kreuzer Potemkin is unruhig. Nothing especially Eisenstein
so far ; Pudowkin has an equally symbolic caption with that
An die Briicke of Mutter, But now there comes the
trouble. The meat given to the crew is bad again. Shot of
the meat, crawling. The meat is quite plainly, with no non-
sense about it, crawling. We get the disgustingness of it by
seeing it as it is, crawling. No external shot, no symbol.
Pudowkin would have given us some other shot, not at first
sight connected with it, not logically. Eisenstein does not.
I am not saying that he should, he works on a different
method; I am trying to find out for myself what it is. He
gives us the meat as it is, not as it seems. Or might seem to
individuals. As it is, so that we can't mistake it. He in-
tensifies it. He heightens the drama. He makes it as
significant as he can by heightening the drama. And think-
ing of the other shots in this and Ten Days, I think this holds
good.

The eve-before-battle is intensified in Ten Days by the
women^s battalion, and their powder and their shoulder-straps
under their tunics. And the death of the sailor is intensified
by the crowds streaming from all parts of the town, and so
on. Drama. And the images are dramatic images. Nearly
all of them are dramatic images, that is the difference. When
the body of the sailor (the one who died for all) is laid out
for the populace (all ready to die for that one), the tent flaps
in the wind. Quite naturally. There is no other shot of
something subconsciously connected, we just see the tent

CLOSE ur

flapping, at first incidentally, gradually more significantly,
gradually becoming more important, while something else
crops up in the scene incidentally. The tent which was
flapping all along is used to cap the scene finally. It is what
we remember it by. The dead man was so vigorous and now
he is under the tent, and it goes on flapping. Similarly, the
crowd. They came in while we were concerned with the
dead man, the dramatic interest shifted, we saw more crowd
streaming in, until there was that remarkable shot of the jetty
or dyke or bridge out into the harbour, thick with them com-
ing in. That was what they would do, that was what it meant,
the narrow strip across the water was filled with them. They
would come across that, making it black, there were so many
of them. Ein fiir alle, alle fiir einen. So we got what the
man's death meant, quite simply, always with some imagery
clearly connected with the drama. In fact, Eisenstein makes
our consciousness fully aware, brings it fully into play, by
playing on it till the subconscious is awakened ; dragged up
to reinforce the conscious. Pudowkin (again, this is not to
make the argument I am so sick of, which is greater, merely
to make each clearer by comparison) plays on the subconscious
till it touches the ordinary state of mind.

The same thing happens on the famous steps. The crowd
gathers to welcome the cruiser as it arrives at Odessa, manned
by its mutiny crew. (The news which brings out the gay
crowd has been brought by officers of the ship, who swam
ashore.) Among the crowd many women, among the women,
many parasols. The scene is one of joy and — what one fails
to get from the stills, which is why one thinks the film can be
talked to death — is glistening with light. On dresses and on

CLOSE UP

parasols as they revolve in light hands. Here again we
receive the full impression of the scene by a significant detail.
The turning parasols. And let us note that they are in move-
ment (also in use). They are not held up to us in a close-up,
in the American-artistic way, note this, w^e have discovered
what a symbol is. It is just natural that on a bright day,
when the w^omen are eagerly waiting, they lightly turn their
parasols.

And now note what Eisenstein makes of this natural fact.
He does not get it and throw it together with other natural
facts and think he has made something. He uses it in two
ways. P'irst, as we have seen, dramatically. Then visually.
It should not be fanciful to see in the stone steps, glittering
with light, rustling with skirts and veils and parasols, a sea.
A stone-sea bed, overlaid with waves of silk and lace and
light. And so we progress and are visually ready for the
progression out of the harbour, with the sailing ships taking
supplies to the cruiser, where a lady gives them a bird, and
so the sailors see w^hat w-e have already seen, the crowd waiting
to welcome them. Attuned as we are to the motion of the
sunshades, we fall in more readily, are able to appreciate more
fully, the larger, swinging sails. The parasols link to the
cruiser, they link also, as that first sub-title did, to what is
about to happen. For the gay movement they provide is
followed by the frenzied rush, the crumpled stillness when the
soldiers fire, fire on the crowd w^aiting to w^elcome the sailors,
and legs descend the steps, and the w^hite rounds of the
parasols is repeated then only by the bundled baby hurtling
down. By two conscious facts, our subconscious is reached;
by association of plain things, sunshade and bouncing pram ;

CLOSE UP

visually reached also by repetition of design. This is how
Eisenstein works.

He brings out his drama by composition. He relies on
composition to heighten (the word I have used) his drama.
Pudowkin, once again, does not rely on composition so much.
Plenty of scenes in the two films I considered are significant
more by being complementary than pictorial in composition.
But they suffice supremely, because his care is with subcon-
scious imagery and that is his appeal. The picture he forms
in our minds, not what he presents separately to our eyes. I
know that one can cite at once several scenes seeming to
disprove this. The scene I wrote about in St, Petersburg,
of the figures crawling across the square, seen from above,
and in Mutter the tenseness of the about-to-be strike is doubled
by that particular view of the gates, the men and the group.
But Pudowkin knows when to abandon his general plan (as
does the other) in order to get the effect it would not yield in
some particular case. If he is not always different from
Eisenstein, let it be remembered there is no reason why he
should be. There is a recognisable quality in all Russian
pictures, and a recognition of pictorial value is one of them.
Eisenstein has it so strongly that he does without any but
dramatic imagery, and that is brought about mainly by the
success of his compositions, which seem to make something
symbolical. When we consider Eisenstein we are aware of
something different. There is one curious fact, that the
symbols that leap to mind are never people, always objects.
The ship thrusting out in Potemkin (it was reproduced in
Close Up for March) and the crowd streaming over and under
a bridge in double movement; the tables swinging, the

CLOSE UP

machine-guns . . . these are symbols. The people are only
dramatic images. You would not say that they symbolised
anything, only that they brought out the drama. The seamen
holding a shell in readiness, the man speckled with light, these
are images, and not svmbols, because they are not carried so
far.

It would be as well, despite what I said earlier, to remember
or formulate the kinds of imagery and the way it may be
used. The three main kinds are decorative, dramatic and
symbolical. Each of these is used or invented by a director
in the desire to state something vividly. To image " is
defined as ''to describe vividly, to typify So when a
thing has been vividly described by the use of imagery, it is
found that imagery has come to typify it. It is a near step
from this to symbolism, but it remains distinct, all the same.

If you state a thing vividly enough by a succession of
images, those you have chosen come to condense the meaning
of the whole and to contain it. This is what Eisenstein does,
but it does not make his people symbolical because he is not
primarily concerned with them. He uses them to make the
theme of his films more vivid. They are there to bring out
the scale, as painters put in a figure when they paint a vista.
Their care is with the vista, they waste no detail on the figure,
but it has to be there to bring out vistaness, which just a vista
would not do. People emerge now and again in Eisenstein,
and make the revolution or the mutiny or the struggle for
life more vivid. They bring it home to us, they make it
more vivid, they are images. But dramatic images, not
symbols. The woman with the child, rushing back to face
the soldiers, may be symbolical, but she is not so entirely

CLOSE UP

symbolical as Baranowskaja with her potatoes in St, Peters-
burg, The same with all the people flung up from time to
time : the women's battalion, the priest, the sailor of the
firing party, the sailor about to be shot. They are bits of
glass which catch the light for a moment. Bits of glass in a
factory which, suddenly catching the light, make us see, from
our distance, the window they are part of, all the other win-
dows too, and the life that goes on behind them. By a bit
of glass the life of the factory. They are bits into which
the whole for a second becomes concentrated ; they represent,
however, by concentration, not by expansion, as symbols do.
That is why one is aware that the personal element is missing
from Eisenstein, but it is not always realised that it is pur-
posely missing. The priest in Potemkin is a ready and
rather rough sketch. We know no more of him than that
he opens an eye during the fight and decides it is better to
go on shamming dead. On the whole, we do not need to
know more. He is only an image that reflects that side, and
in a theme, a factory of this size, a more completely lit window
would have been out of balance. Room's Death Ship is a
psychological ship, and the difference between it and the
cruiser I shall study next time, for Room uses drama to
produce reactions from which he makes a pattern, and in this
is unlike both of these Russians I have studied. Eisenstein
has a simpler pattern. The drama is caused by one trait,
courage, determination, and after that has been made -clear,
the drama serves it. Though he works on an -epic scale, as
has been said, he allows no conflicting characteristics to inter-
fere with the development of the one main trait. At most it
may oppose it so as to challenge and bring it out more, but

CLOSE UP

his films are not, because they do not set out to be, a conuict
of two determinations equally portrayed. One main one
goes marching on.

Pudowkin took the end of St, Petersburg (and, strange as
it may seem, from an American story) and made it show
through the lives of his people. It was the personal element
that started things. Pudowkin's revolutions are seen through
his people; Eisenstein's people are only seen through the
revolution. They are poured into the mould of revolution,
whereas the man seeking work and the woman wondering
where the food will come from (Baranowskaja) in St, Peters-
burg are moulds themselves into which revolution streams,
and brims over and destroys the whole mould. So Eisen-
stein's characters are images in a wav that Pudowkin's rarely
are. The lout that knocked down the capitalist and got the
woman's house searched and her husband led off is really the
hero of St. Petersburg, but the sailor, the one sailor, who
was killed in Potemkin is not really the hero. The hero —
what Eisenstein takes to be the hero — is visible in the last
momentous shot; the crew clustered and cheering over the
cruiser. The collective spirit that made their revolt success-
ful. Sailors, not a sailor. Not even one sailor expressing
and doing dramatic duty for them all, and not even sailors,
but the determination that made them sailors, I mean made
them put up with the life and then made them refuse to put
up with what was unnecessary in it, in the shape of bad meat
(which was a symbol). The last comment is not the flag
flying, as in Mutter, but the crew on the ship they have made
their own. And let it be remembered that the film opened,
dark and unruhig was the day, shots of empty waves and

CLOSE UP

the battleship, and it closes with the crew who have con-
quered the unruhigkeit (I am sorry, but I will not sacrifice
expressiveness to say " uneasiness ") with which the film
began. That is how they are made images.

You may have thought you could not bear to see those
Potemkin steps, but you have forgotten the light that springs
over them and forgotten how they link on. You may feel
unable to look at those over-familiar decks for the first time
actually in the film, but when you do you find that no one
has told you how the men rush out from under the gun-
turrets, how dramatic it is.

The film owes its peculiar throbbing vitality, so like the
throbbing of a boat's engines, to the effects of light and
shade, living light and shade, that either Eisenstein or his
assistant, since we are told that he is greatly helped by
Alexandroff, whose name now appears on Potemkin, fully
realises the dramatic and the cinematic value of. There is a
sailor covered with a speckled reflection, the still was in Close
Up, there are queer efi'ects wMth a searchlight, there is the
ghostliness of the sailors under the sheet, which is purely
dramatic, I mean it happened, it was called for, it was no
whim, no camera angle (which, of course, in Russian films
are not whims), and yet its realisation was extremely cine-
matic. Vrai film. The shot which was cut when I saw Ten
Days in the offices of Prometheus, of Kerensky burying his
head in the pillows, is almost abstract as regards design and
mass (it was printed in Drawing and Design for June). This
is how Eisenstein heightens his drama, in the same way, to
the same end, that Pudowkin brings in his images . . . with
the camera and a sense of what it alone can do. And deal

CLOSE UP

with. And both are working in an equally pure cinema. So
it is that Eisenstein's imagery, to summarise, is visual and
dramatic. It is a part of the whole that catches the light for
a moment. And he is a master at making the right part
catch the light at the right moment. By cutting and com-
position. This is where he comes nearest to reaching the
subconscious direct, by the beauty of his visual imagery.
The steps are seen from every angle ; the preparations for the
firing of the machine-gun in Ten Days are so cut and so
presented to us that we are keyed up, ready for the climax,
apprehensive, alert, living unusually.

The question of imagery is, of course, bound up with
rhythm, with long and short cutting (the raising of the bridge
in Ten Days, with the cab and the dead horse and the girl's
hair the other side, but everywhere, bridge, bridge, bridge).
There is also dramatic symbolism, such as the destroying of
the statue and the shape of the decanter stopper. But the
individual quality one is aware of in Eisenstein's imagery is,
I think, due to the fact that it is his people who are only
images and his objects symbols. The reason for this, if you
ever want to know hurriedly, is that he works with a telescopic
lens, not a microscope. He does not enlarge the little to
express the whole (by showing how much unrevealed of that
the whole every particle has), but he expresses the whole by
insisting that the details are only a part, and by using them
as images.

Robert Herring.

CLOSE UP

THE CINEMA IN RETROSPECT

By Clifford Howard
Part II.

The scenario writer in relation to the history of letters is a
recent and distinct species of author. As I have already
recorded, he first made his appearance about twenty years ago.
Reflecting the character of the movies from which he sprang
(their character at that time, I mean), the primitive scenarist
was an insignificant and unpromising newness ; bashfully
uncertain of himself or his destiny and utterly ignored as
belonging to the genus literati.

In the remote era preceding the decade of 1910 there was no
prophet sufficiently inspired to foresee the day when a Hans
Kraly or a Frances Marion would be receiving twenty-five
thousand dollars for preparing a single scenario. In those
pre-Hollywood days a full dozen complete photodramas could
be produced for less than one-half that sum, and a scenario
writer would have regarded himself as among earth's chosen
fortunates could he have received a grand total of two hundred
and fifty dollars for his share of the work in their production.

Out of the early scenario writer came the scenario editor.

CLOSE UP

As the movie industry developed there arose the need for
someone to relieve the director of the task which originally
fell to his lot of handling the scripts submitted to the studio,
selecting the picture material, and editing such of the scenarios
as were chosen for filming. Directing a picture was found to
be enough of a job in itself ; and so the scenario editor was
called into being.

And with his advent came the germ of the scenario depart-
ment, destined to become one of the most important and most
expensive features of a studio. Beginning with this one lone
individual, the scenario department has grown and expanded
until to-day in a typical Hollywood studio it comprises a corps
of readers, a staff of story adapters, a staff of continuity
writers, a bunch of gag-men, and a coterie of title writers,
besides the editor-in-chief and his immediate assistants, as
well as the supervisors of production, who have a vote in the
selecting of stories and who oversee their preparation for the
screen.

This, too, is a development that none could have foreseen
even as late as 1913, when I undertook my first work as a
scenario editor. This was in connection with a company that
had recently established a studio in one of the suburbs of Los
Angeles. For some reason it was called the Balboa Amuse-
ment Company, and was conducted by two brothers,
enterprising lineal descendents of Abraham.

Being progressive and ambitious chaps, they decided to
instal a scenario editor. As they told me afterwards, they
believed it would add to their prestige as producers to have it
known that they had such a person connected with their enter-
prise. Up to that time they had done their own reading of

CLOSE UP

story material and had allowed their director to whip into
shape such scenarios as they selected. Having seen some of
my screen stories, followed by a view of me myself, they
decided I was the man for their purpose and they accordingly
tendered me the honor of gracing an editorial desk.

The honor did not carry much money with it, but it did
offer me the opportunity of becoming directly associated with
motion picture production ; and this being something for
which I had been looking, I accepted it with pleasure, albeit
with a show of reluctance in deference to my dignity.

Like the new boy at the soda fountain who devotes the first
period of his delectable job to drinking all he can hold during
his spare moments, I was out on the stage on every possible
occasion and pretext getting my fill of the novelty of picture
making. Nor was I averse to helping out as a subordinate
character, now and then, by way of accommodation to the
company in the interest of economy. And so, in addition to
my legitimate role of scenario editor, I also filled such modest
screen roles as a police clerk, a doctor, a clergyman, a hang-
man, a professor, and a superintendent of an insane asylum,
to say nothing of mingling with the background patrons of a
gambling dive or with the guests of a wedding party.

My regular duties comprised the reading of submitted
scenarios, making selections from them, editing such as were
chosen, and also writing original scenarios. The company
had two units at work; one doing dramas and the other
com.edies, and I was called upon to supply material for each
of them. Henry King, who has since made a name for him-
self as one of Hollywood's foremost directors, was the leading
man of the drama company. According to the ratings of

CLOSE UP

to-day his position was that of a star, but the movie firmament
with its stellar glories had not yet come into being, and except
in Jack London's Sea Wolf, which was the Balboa's chef-
d*oeuvre and a momentous production for its day, I doubt
whether King's name was ever even mentioned on the screen.

The Balboa Company sold all of their product to Pathe
Freres. They received a dollar and a half a foot for it, or
approximately $1500 a reel ; a price w^hich netted them a very
comfortable profit. The total cost of producing a picture
averaged only about a dollar a foot. Many of the items of
expense that enter into the making of a present-day film were
then undreamed of. The studio itself was a converted bun-
galow. Its one-time kitchen served as the editorial sanctum.
Salaries were low — mere loose change compared with those of
to-day. Seventy-five dollars a week was the maximum, and
only two persons received it — the director and the leading
man. Nor was there more than one cameraman to a picture ;
and he had no assistant, either, and was thankful to get his
thirty-five dollars each Saturday for his unaided cranking of
two films during the week. Neither was there more than a
bare margin over a thousand feet of actual film consumed in
the taking of a reel of picture. Numberless retakes and excess
footage of from one hundred to five hundred per cent, were
luxuries then non-existent and beyond the vividest imagina-
tion of the director.

Then, too, there was only one stage, and that consisted of
an open platform out in the back yard, with two or three
dressing rooms and a laboratory adjoining it. Artificial
lighting had not yet come into use, with its incidental increase
in cost. Sunshine, the outstanding and alluring asset of

CLOSE UP

Southern California, was the sole source of light supply. Re-
flectors and diffusers were the only adjuncts employed for
modifying it or regulating it. The diffusers were strips of
w^hite cloth hung on wires which were stretched at short
intervals across the top of the stage from side to side. These
cloth strips were moved back and forth on the wires at the
direction of the cameraman for such effects as he desired to
obtain. Occasionally a high wind during the rainy season
would tear them to tatters.

All interior sets, therefore, were built out in the open on this
unenclosed stage. A study of the films of those simple al
fresco days will frequently show a playful breeze moving the
papers on an office desk, or ruffling draperies or whiskers
which becomingly ought not to be ruffled. Night scenes
taken at night were, of course, out of the question. When the
sun quit for the day so did the cameraman. To obtain the
desired effect for nocturnal scenes, the portions of the film
containing such scenes were tinted blue. Technically this
particular tinting was known as moonlight " ; and a part of
a scenario writer's training was to remember to append the
notation Moonlight " to every scene in his script in which
the action was required to take place supposedly in the dark,
w^hether in a storm out on the plains or in the quiet depths
of a dungeon. For lamp-light effect the scenarist wrote

Amber ; and the laboratory man would tint the film
accordingly.

Incidentally, it was also the duty of the scenarist to divide
his scenario carefully into reels and see to it that reel one (and
reel two, if the picture w^ere of feature length) came to a stop
at some suspenseful situation, for double projectors had not

CLOSE UP

yet come into general use in the picture theatres, so that there
was always a wait between reels to enable the operator to re-
wind the one and place the next in his machine. End of
Reel One. Reel Two will follow immediately was a stereo-
typed title with the scenario writer, and was originally
regarded as of vital importance as a means of keeping the
audience in their seats. And hence, also, the additional pre-
caution of ending the reel in suspense. Otherwise, as
experience had demonstrated, the audience were likely to walk
out between reels, none too well pleased with the brevity of
the show.

During the tw^o years following my initiation into scenario
editorship, motion pictures made very rapid strides. Five-
reel dramas became commonplace, and true feature pictures
made their appearance, with Griffith's Birth of a Nation
heading the list of American productions and incidentally
establishing Hollywood as the film capital. Two-reel
comedies also took their place among the normal happenings
of filmdom, although still exciting special comment. The
first one of this length had attracted unusual attention. Its
advent had been heralded for weeks in advance. It was a
phenomenal event in cinema history. A full one-reel comedy
had previously been accepted as the ultimate limit of sustained
hilarity; and here now were Ford Sterling and Mabel Xor-
mand in a mammoth two-reel creation of mirth and merriment
— Zusu the Band Master! What was the w^orld coming to?

It was in the midst of these developments — harbingers of
the dawning of the modern cinema era — that I assumed my
second editorial office. This was in the fall of 1915. The
invitation came from the American Film Company. Their

CLOSE UP

studio was in Santa Barbara, a lovely little seacoast town about
a hundred miles north of Los Angeles, and noted particularly
for its old Spanish mission. The studio was located within a
short distance of the mission, and with an uncommon eye to
beauty was patterned after its picturesque architecture.

Instead of the single stage to which I had been accustomed
at the Balboa studio I here found five or six stages, one of
them enclosed and using the Kleig lights which had recently
come into use. There were eight separate units working at
the studio, turning out a wide range of pictures — single-reel
comedies, two-reel Westerns, three- and five-reel dramas,
fifteen-episode serials, and a periodic super-special of six or
seven reels. Also, the scenario department had three readers
and a staff of nine writers in addition to the editor. SpeciaHzed
continuity writers, however, and adapters and title scribes had
not come into existence. A scenario writer still combined in
himself the functions of all these latter-day specialists. The
term continuity had not yet been invented.

There was no film-printing machine at the studio when I
first went there, nor any outside laboratory for doing such
work. All of the cutting of a picture was done with the
original negative. When that work was completed the nega-
tive film was sent to the company's eastern headquarters, in
Chicago, where the positive prints were made for distribution
to the exhibitors. We at the studio never knew how our
pictures actually looked until after they had been released and
shown in the theatres.

Working only with the negative, as we were obliged to do,
was not only risky, but was also for me a bit confusing at first.
It was soma time before I could adjust my optical sense to the

CLOSE UP

reversed blacks and whites when running a film in the projec-
tion room. However, in the course of a year we were supplied
with a printer, and held a little celebration in honor of our
first studio positive.

During the time I was in Santa Barbara the use of music on
the set as an aid to the actors was first introduced. And it
was there at the American studio that it had its origin. A
young Italian in the casting office, who had a penchant for
playing the Hawaiian steel guitar, was innocently responsible
for it. It happened one day that he was called over to one of
the stages to play a small bit in a scene. Having his instru-
ment with him, he beguiled himself with soft melodies while
waiting on the set.

The leading lady in the picture — and a lady of considerable
temperament — was vSO touched with his plaintive performance
as he sat there in patient waiting, that she insisted upon his
going on with it during her scene before the camera. The
director resented the innovation, but its good effect upon the
actress's work was so marked, that the guitar player was there-
after called upon to twiddle soulful accompaniments to all of
her more emotional parts. Whereupon other temperamental
leading ladies, not to be slighted, also demanded musical
stimulus. And with this as a beginning, studio orchestras
eventually came into being as recognized adjuncts to picture
making.

The star system and the exploiting of notable persons on the
screen got well under way during my two and a half years with
the Santa Barbara company. Mary Miles Minter, Lottie
Pickford, Gail Kane, Julia Day, May Allison, Lew Cody,
William Russell, Douglas MacLean, Warren Kerrigen and

CLOSE UP

Nigel de Brullier were among those who began their twinkling
in the cinema firmament at the American studio. Some of
these then promising luminaries have continued to twinkle
through the years with more or less uncertainty, while many
others have completely faded out.

Henry King, Edward Sloman and Frank Borzage are three
present-day established directors who began their directorial
careers in Santa Barbara back in the days of my editorship
there. Borzage, who first came into prominence with his
Humoresque and later added to his fame with Seventh
Heaven, was playing the lead in wild Westerns at the time of
my arrival. He was ambitious to direct, and when the oppor-
tunity came it happened to be an original scenario of mine
that was chosen for his initial effort.

Richard Bennett was one of the first of the prominent stage
actors who condescended to play openly before the camera.
He made his screen debut under the auspices of the American
Company, in a film version of Brieux's Damaged Goods.
This proved so striking a success that Bennett was prompted
to follow it up with other film appearances. In this connec-
tion it fell to my lot to write the story and scenario for one of
his pictures and later to edit a film for which he himself wrote
the story. He was not only the scenarist in this case, but he
was his own director as well ; and the result was not what it
should have been. Indeed, it looked at first as though the
picture would have to be shelved. But by dint of cutting and
editing and the re-writing of titles, I succeeded in making
something of a different picture out of it — at any rate, suffic-
iently different to make the film marketable and at the same
time win the displeasure of Mr. Bennett.

CLOSE UP

Another celebrity of that time with whose film work I was
identified was Audrey IMunson. She had leaped into fame as
the result of having been chosen out of a multitude of models,
to pose for the figure on the memorial coin of the World's
Fair at San Francisco in 1915. The newspapers took her up
and exploited her as the woman with the ideally perfect figure.
At the height of this notoriety the president of the American
Film Company, w^ith laudable enterprise, secured her signa-
ture to a contract to appear in a moving picture ; and forthwith
proceeded to w^het the public appetite with appetizing advance
notices regarding the forthcoming super-special film in w^hich
this famous artists' model, receiving the enormous salary of
five hundred dollars a week, would appear in the unequivocal
glory of her professional perfection.

Following which the selection fell upon me to write a
scenario that would not only fulfil these promises to the public,
but at the same time would also disarm the censors. As a
beginning to this end I hit upon the title Purity ; and with this
as an inspiration I constructed an eight-reel scenario along
highly poetic and idealistic lines. Moreover, in order to insure
the carrying out of my design, I was entrusted with the
responsibility of selecting the supporting cast and co-directing
the picture.

Whatever may be said of the outcome as a production of art,
it fulfilled the company's expectation as a profitable sensation.
It was the most costly film they had ever turned out, yet by
the end of the year they were more than half a million dollars
to the good. And I believe the picture is still alive and still
earning dividends. A friend of mine during a recent world
tour came across it at a little show house somewhere in the

CLOSE UP

purlieus of Panama. As was hopefully anticipated, of course,
its initial showings aroused wide-spread talk and no little con-
troversy. Some towns forbade it and others frankly welcomed
it. Critics unmercifully roasted it, and critics enthusiastically
praised it and recommended it. Sermons were preached
about it, pro and con. The old maids of both sexes who
sneaked in to see it were becomingly shocked, w^hile stout-
moraled men and women openly extolled it. The motto of the
garter Honi soil qui mal y pense, was resurrected from its
classic limbo and hurled at the picture's detractors by those
who saw^ in the film a work of beauty and a consistent fulfilling
of its title.

Altogether, as the involuntary author of the production, the
hullabaloo inspired by it was an exhilirating experience for
me. It was the first time I had ever had a hand in the creating
of a sensation, and I have never since contributed to another.
As a result of the success of Purity I was given a small bonus
for my scenario, besides an increase in salary and some added
responsibilities as head of the scenario department.

By the time I left Santa Barbara, in 1918, the modern era of
picture making had arrived, and gone were the good old days
of the pioneer and the trail blazer and the cinema prophet
afflicted with visions of world-wide acceptance of motion
pictures.

CLOSE UP

A MUSEUM OF THE MOVIES

The Problem of the Avenue Pavilion

The Avenue Pavilion in JLondon has now completed its
sixth month in the service of showing artistic films to the
British public. This, to the astonishment of the watchful
foreigners, is another way of saying that the Avenue Pavilion
has now completed its sixth month of unparallelled prosperity,
riirough the whole of this period there has not been among
all the films which the trade has considered obsolete or un-
suitable, one which has not carried success with it. Here
is an incontrovertible fact which is causing quite a great deal
of eye-opening not only in England, but more and more
among the producers abroad. Realisation on their part has
been wary and slow, for they have learned by bitter experience
that (to put it mildly) England has been, until recently, far
from encouraging in its dealing with films of value which they
have sent across. Indeed, England has been very much a
closed oyster, and the hope now entertained abroad is that
the Avenue Pavilion will be the means of prizing open the
firmly-closed mollusc. Certainly the indefatigable manager-
ship of Mr. Ogilvie has worked wonders, both before and
behind the scenes, so to speak, and he has earned for himself
a reputation for discrimination and integrity which few enjoy.

CLOSE UP

Consider the position. It is all very well to say *' Every
country has now its ^ art ' cinemas Every country has
not a British censorship ! That is where the rub comes in.
Not one of the facilities normally extended to any art
cinema on the Continent has so far been granted. The diffi-
culty of importation, let alone the difficulty of talking the
foreign producer into taking a chance on showing his film,
is colossal, let alone the fact that once they are imported they
have to run the risk of being banned by the censor. To a
more easily daunted showman than Mr. Ogilvie the situation
might have seemed impossible. In view of this, when it is
stated that Mr. Ogilvie has his programmes ready as far
ahead as he can book, with a long waiting list at the end of
that, it clearly shows that if anything on a big scale is to be
done in England he will be, and is, the original pioneer.

So far the films shown have been mostly the gems of the
past. The Avenue Pavilion has been, so to speak, the
Museum of the Movies. That the newest films have not been
seen is due to the fact that — let it be stated — foreign exploiters
have been wary to the point of short-sightedness. They have
not supported the venture as they might have done, and as
they should, and will, and are already beginning to do;
realising that here is a sound proposition quite apart and
opposed to freakishness and artiness and highbrowism.
The support must come — not from the public, whose support
is more than assured — but from the trade in England and
abroad.

The important point to be grasped is that the Avenue
Pavilion does not set out to be, and is not one of the little
theatres. At present it works alone and is unique. Soon it

CLOSE UP

will work in conjunction with theatres in several leading pro-
vincial centres, the first of which will be the Century at
Liverpool, run also by Gaumont. This is important, and
equally important, it should be noted that the Avenue
Pavilion, together with the chain of theatres with w^hich it will
w^ork, are not stunting " art for art's sake and mummifying
themselves in an atmosphere of overcharged ^stheticism, but
running as any of the high-class cinemas in Berlin, for in-
stance, are run, on a solid commercial basis with an ordinarily
intelligent audience capable of appreciating the film as an
intellectual entertainment.

In view of this, all foreign companies would do well to
reconsider their attitude to Great Britain and the artistic film,
for which there is no longer contempt or indifference, but an
ever-widening public of a proportion which cannot possibly
be any longer overlooked. Mr. Ogilvie is the right man to
approach, being in sincere sympathy with real development
of the screen, and, even more important from their point of
view, an able and experienced showman who is not going to
lose their money and his employer's. Those who approach
him will be sure to find an open mind and a courteous con-
sideration of what they have to offer.

Once bitten twice shy savs the now cautious Continental.
But he is watching, not without a belated triumph, the latter-
day success in England of films which have made film history.
If the old ones are so well supported, he reasons, so should
the new. It is quite true that ^Ir. Ogilvie is now receiving
offers almost every day from abroad. It is a delicate position.
Joyless Street he cannot have, nor The Tragedy of the Street,
certainly not Poteynkin, certainly not Ten Days That Shook

CLOSE UP

the World. No need to tell you why. These films cannot
be given at a special theatre conspicuously renowned for its
serious, impartial presentation of films of value. In Berlin
they are shown freely in the Plazas and New Galleries of that
city, as well as in the Biographs of the back streets. In Berlin
the censors have stated that what a man like Pabst puts into
a film is there for good and sufficient reasons and must stand.
Were Mr. Ogilvie's policy to provide salacious matter of the
lowest order he could not be submitted to restriction more
severe. Let the contrast speak for itself — and for him !

Here is a story more heartening if no less incredible.

Warning Shadows was witnessed by a lady who, having sat
through its entire length, came out and demanded her money
back. Nothing less than legal action would compensate her
for the loss of her one and sixpence, filched under false pre-
tences. She had not been entertained. The scandal was
kept out of the papers !

K. M.

HOW TO RENT A FILM

Letters reach the Close Up office weekly requesting
information as to how films may be rented for private showing
and the approximate cost. The following article is the out-
come of some weeks research, and quite frankly, the situation
in England is deplorable.

CLOSE UP

Film renters are quite willing to rent films. There is no
difficulty about that. They are usually most courteous and
helpful. The trouble is that there are practically no films in
England in a state fit to be presented to serious students of the
cinema.

And it all hinges on the question of censorship.

All countries abroad have a censorship, but it is used with
more discrimination and there is usually no barrier to the
showing of any film in private. Also, art and treatment are
taken into consideration, whereas for a film to be submitted
in London as artistic means that it will be frowned upon
immediately. And there are no copies available for private
showing other than the cut commercial versions.

Glancing, for instance, at random down the list of films at
the end of this article which are or will be available for private
showing, there are Secrets of the Soul, Jeanne Ney, Metro-
polis, The Student of Prague and Moana, Secrets of the Soul
is a film with a valuable educational bias, meant to explain
to the world in general the value of psycho-analysis and its
function in the realm of mental healing. Recently a Berlin
cinema asked all its visitors to request those films for revival
which they had most enjoyed or most wished to see again.
The two asked for most in the final total were Dr, Cagligari
and Secrets of the Soul, Every step in the film was controlled
and supervised by one of the best Austrian analysts. But in
the English version exactly one-third w^as cut out, including
the " key " sequence of the whole film, because it was sup-
posed it would infringe the British Medical Association's
regulations as to medical advertising. So that English
friends sent to see the picture could not make out what it was

CLOSE UP

all about. However, for sheer technical delight it is recom-
mended for private showing. Then in Jeanne Ney, a great
deal of the orgy which gave such point to the beginning of the
picture is omitted. But an orgy is the accompaniment of
warfare, and if one can read The Enormous Room and Man-
hatten Transfer, why can one not see the same things rightly
used on the screen? In Metropolis two of the chief scenes
.were cut out in London, one the visit of the boy from the
underground, in the son's clothes, to. the upper world for the
first time, and the other, the amazing acting of Brigette Helm
as the Robot luring people to destruction. This^ which was
psychologically perhaps the one great point of the film, was
carefully cut out by the English censor and so the entire
symbolism and contrast between the girl worker and the Robot
was lost. Jagged little lumps were cleft out of The Student
of Prague for no apparent reason. Worst of all, just one
half of Moana, particularly some lovely water sequences, were
cut from the English version as " unlikely to interest "I So
all Close Up readers who have read comments on the above
films must remember if they are disappointed with the English
versions that they are not seeing the films as they were made,
and that it would be extremely difficult to judge Romeo and
Juliet if the beginning were omitted, the family feud men-
tioned casually in passing and a happy ending staged in the
tomb.

So in England the first consideration is to get the present
form of censorship altered.

It is probably impossible to get it abolished. Therefore,
the aim should be to establish the granting of a separate
certificate to artistic films destined for private or limited

CLOSE UP

showing. Such films to be submitted to a committee who
will judge them from an artistic and not a commercial pomt
of view, and the certificate only to be issued to films submitted
(as is now the rule in France) in their original uncut form.
Films allotted such a certificate and being available only for
limited showing to be allowed a reduction in duty, as the
customs dues are now so high that only a film certain of many
weeks' showing can possibly be brought in from abroad.
How can this be brought about?

Only bv active work on the part of Close Up readers. They
are requested to sign the form at the back of Close Up and
forward same to the London office. They are then requested
to take the matter up with their Member of Parliament. It
may be argued that nothing will be done. But unless some-
body moves, not only will nothing be done, but worse restric-
tions may be imposed. (There is already a movement on
foot to prevent children being taken to any films with an
A certificate, even by their parents. As even many travel
films get an A certificate in England, it would mean the
practical closing of the cinema to all under sixteen.) Close Up
readers are asked to express their dissatisfaction with present
conditions in print wherever opportunity presents itself, and
also to speak of the matter to the manager of their local
cinema. Other arts belong too often to the few, but the
cinema belongs to the many. If you do not care enough
about films to write a few letters for them, it is hardly to be
expected that a satisfactory state of affairs will come about in
the English cinema world.

Coming, however, to practical considerations as to what
films can be rented in England at this present moment and

^ ^ 2

Oj CD -

The Box of Pandora.

From La Mavche des Machines, a film by the young Russian experi-
mentor Eugene Deslaw. Recently shown in Pahs, and entirely
composed of machinery in action, it has points of similarity to In the
Shadow of the Machines by Leo Lania and Victor Blum.

CLOSE UP

how they may be rented, the following practical points must be
borne in mind.

1. It is advisable to examine copy before using and to note
scratches, as copy must be returned in good condition.

2. Unless you want a heavy bill for damages be sure you
understand how^ to run your projector. Film can too
easily be spoiled in running.

3. Copy must be covered by insurance (including transit
risk), as each copy may be worth from thirty to sixty
pounds.

1. In renting a copy be careful to make some enquiry as to
what state it is in. Readers will do well to refer to
Murder in the Dark Room, by Oswell Blakeston, in the
March issue of Close Up.

5. It is customary, but not inevitable, for the renter to
pay postage one way and the hirer the other. You must
enquire into this when renting.

6. A copy rented for a single showing must be returned
within twenty-four hours.

7. The fees vary from two to ten guineas a showing,
according usually to the age of the picture.

The following list does not pretend to be complete. We
shall hope from time to time to give particulars in Close Up
as to foreign films available for private showing. Where
fees are quoted they are for a single showing, and while they
have been copied from letters from the firms in question, they
are approximate only and merely for rough guidance.

I might add that I have written letters on the censorship
question to most of the leading English newspapers. None

D 49

CLOSE UP

of them have been printed. Perhaps Close Up readers will
have better luck. At any rate, to those despairing of our
present lethargy, I commend the following story. At the
end of the revolution a number of Russians gathered together
who were interested in cinematography. They had no film,
no camera, no lights, no cinema. They worked their prob-
lems out on paper. When opportunity came and they could
make their films in actuality, they made Mother, Expiation
and Potemkin.

Impetuous Youth.
Secrets of the SouL
Metropolis,
Wrath of the Gods,
Vaudeville.
Faust.

The Waltz Dream.
Other German pictures.

Jeanne Ney,

Marriage of the Bear.
The Postmaster.
Student of Prague.

Wardour Film, Ltd., 173, War-
dour Street, London. These
are available at two guineas per
evening.

Held by Wardours, but as it is
only now generally released
might not be available yet and
would be more expensive.

F. A. Enders, Esq., Messrs.

Film Booking Offices, 22,
Soho Square, W.l. Requests
of this nature can only be
entertained after theatrical
circulation of such films is
entirelv exhausted.

CLOSE UP

Waxworks,

Great Arctic Seal Hunt,

Frank Wheatcroft, Esq., Cinema
Exclusives, 164, Wardour
Street.

Moana.

Warning Shadows.

The Nibelungs.

Famous Lasky Film Service,
166, Wardour Street. All
copies out of service.

Lionel Gillings, Esq., Gillings
Kinema Enterprises, 60, Vic-
toria Street, Manchester.

— . Solomon, Esq., Messrs.
Graham Wilcox Productions,
174, Wardour Street.

Adventures of a Ten Mark Present renter unknown.
Note.

Out of the Mist.

Bryher.

CLOSE UP

A FAIRY-TALE FILM

Berlin. Mid-November.

I think we should try to be without prejudice. Even in its
civilized form called principle. Even let it be employed in
given spheres; theory and such.

We ought never to say a motion picture must be so or
so. At least not within the next hundred vears ; nobodv
should speak this way. Until then, I hope, it will be clear
that the sense of iilm " covers only an abstraction. An
abstraction, indeed, which can be defined, and which can
demonstrate its philosophic, psychologic, aesthetic and tech-
nical maxims. But it only becomes concrete, living and
enjoyable through its methods of employment. The living
power and effect of these methods are usually subject to those
qualities bA^ virtue of which they deviate from familiar paths.

By this I do not mean at all anarchy between life and art.
Only I object to giving too much importance to the iinite
judgments. To obediently binding oneself to the demands of
fixed principles. To using too constantly the critical ruler.
For we are doing so. And in order to prove we have learnt
how to measure, especially with our own rulers, we keep draw-
ing them out of our pockets to examine possible and impos-
sible alike. Here and there quite aptly is a piece of material
that can be measured with this ruler. But we use it more

CLOSE UP

with unsuitable and immeasurable things, a pile of fruit, a
drinking vessel, an unbounded atmospheric substance.
Instead of breathing, drinking, eating.

And it is just this critical ruler I see snapping in the hands
of those who examine the photographs of the film Gehvniiisse
des Orients {Secrets of the Orient), Whom now I modestly
ask to slip their rulers back into their pockets. At least until
I have told the plot of the story.

In the bazaar of an Orient town — full of sun and motion —
Ali, the shoemaker, is living. He has a virago for a wife,
making him even more slave to his wretched workday. Only
his dreams show him life, delight and beauty.

One day, however, these dreams are troubled by the appear-
ance of a sinister rider, bringing the strap of his whistle to
be sewn. Secret powers seem dormant in this little w^histle.
Ali finds this out as the great chance of his poor life, and
escapes with the precious instrument. He smuggles himself
on the galley of a prince as quaint as he is broad. The galley
being destroyed by fire, Ali is saved on the back of a sea
monster w^hich straightway swims with him to land. It is the
night of the full moon. The sultan and people and chief
courtiers are awaiting there the messenger from heaven. Ali
is received as a prince and given the hand of the sultan's
lovely daughter. Brilliant festivities follow, and All's good
luck ends only when he hears that the sweet princess loves
secretly a prince equally sweet but imprisoned. Generously
Ali frees the sultan's daughter, but the sultan becomes en-
raged, seeing that now^ he has lost all the riches he believed
Ali to have possessed.

CLOSE UP

Ali flees to the desert among fighting brigands and the
members of a caravan. Not fully conscious of what is hap-
pening, he captures this caravan and brings it to the sultan.
But the joy of reconcihation is short lived. The real origin
both of the caravan and of Ali are discovered. He is placed
beneath the gallows. His last request : once only to trill upon
his little whistle. And lo ! at its magic note all begin to
dance; sultan, courtiers, people, soldiers, horses, camels,
towers, gallows, town, altogether, all at once.

Ali has fallen off his shoemaker's stool and awakes beneath
the blows of his wife. There is no one to dance to the song
of his whistle which the sinister rider is taking from his hands,
examining the seam, throwing to Ali a small coin. But he
looks into his eyes somewhat smilingly, as if he had under-
stood. The door behind him has long snapped in the lock,
and All's glance still follows the rider with his little w^histle.
Full of longing, quiet regret and the tiny bit of luck of one
night's dream.

This is a tale, isn't it? If well told it could be one of A
Thousand And One Nights, or from some such other book.
And now, please reflect, is the same literary ruler to be used
for fairy tales as for an epic poem, a novel, a drama, or a
lyric verse ? Surely not ! It might be just as false to measure
Secrets of the Orient with the critical ruler adapted to four or
five other kinds of film. We must become used to the fact
that within the scope of Film " several categories are to be
separated, the worth of these being independant of the degree
of their mutual relationship. And of the idea that they all
must please every one. There are people who don't like

CLOSE UP

dramas, but this cannot diminish Shakespeare's significance.
There are also people who do not like fairy tales, but how far
does that count against Anderson ?

And so it is no argument against Secrets of the Orient and
those who made it, that many people do not like it, though
a number of them are quite definite in their taste. And now
I will tell you why I like it. Or rather I shall tell you why I
think it excusable that I do.

I am so fond of touching upon a theme which some years
ago was often discussed with the greatest interest. It was
said that the motion picture is specially suitable for showing
that which is on the borderline of unreality, things escaped
from triviality in one step, touching the key to our imaginings,
the good and the evil. I know each art form does so. More
or less. The film, however, in a wider way. Destined by
its technical peculiarities. By the fact of being two-dimen-
sional, sufficient to truly illustrate, keeping back, however, a
margin not seen. By the boundlessness of space over which
it can explore and roam. By its indifference to time which
it can slow down and quicken. By its independance of
precept which it can beautify and distort.

The film is more directly related to fantasy than words,
and superior to it. The film has power to form before our
eyes, to stimulate in figurative motion, what words can only
say to our brains. More unbounded indeed, more absorbed.
But grey, therefore shapeless and hardly defined.

It is easy for the word ! We hear it, we read it and behind
it we conceive the sense that is most agreeable to us, cor-
responding to our momentary feeling. Words tell to each

CLOSE UP

what he desires to hear. Pictures, on the contrary, show the
same thing to everybody alike. Without considering the
feelings of the spectator. Its contents remain unalterably as
their creator made them. It is difficult for the picture.

Its expressions are richer, its contents poorer. Happening
but once, more personal and precise. It is the simplest thing
in the world to declare that a picture is not conceived as it
should be. Or it seems too lame or too quick. Never, per-
haps, has it our own particular rhythm. And we feel
authorised to censure this fact. To criticise it. Convinced
and inexorable.

How easy to ask scornfully, these Secrets of the Orient,
will they be a fairy tale? The towns therein are too ethno-
graphical, the figures too earthbound. The fable too
hindered by triviality ! Just as easy to say the towns are too
highly dimensioned. Figures too strange to mankind.
Fable is too silly. We see it is much too beautiful to be a
fairy picture and too difficult for us to enjoy it. It is too
ugly to be a fairy picture and too easy for us to find fault.

If these critics at least would get accustomed to saying : I
do not like this film ! Instead of stating : It is piffle ! For
in any case this one is not so. It cannot be so since it has
to be regarded as a fairy tale. And in a fairy tale all exaggera-
tion, glitter and excitement is permissible, which elsewhere
we would find untrue. Fairy tales do not seek to be true.
Some one complained : These walls eternally remain scenery !
And I could only reply : Thank the Lord they do not stiffen
into apartments ! The scene of a fairy tale is never a piece
of ground ratified by building regulations. To damn a fairy
tale as piffle proves the same misconception of art as to inter-

CLOSE UP

rupt a poet with the objection : But you are lying ! The
invective Piffle in this instance is only another form of
Lie used against art. To call the exaggerations of the
fairy tale piffle is indeed merely silly, much the same as giving
the poet the lie or complaining that music is unnatural.

Let them have their music and their poems, then let them
have their fairy castles. They are not to be lived in. But to
let us forget there is naught to house in them.

And now, after this apologia for the fairy-tale-film in
general, it is time to say why I consider Gehimnisse des
Orients just the right kind of fairy-tale-film.

Firstly : In the dreamy longing of the poor shoemaker of
Cairo we find something of real spiritual value. This value,
indeed, is smothered with revue-like pomp and mingled with
clownish intrigue in the greater part of the play. The form,
slightly indicated in the beginning, is worked out in the final
pictures. A sentence starting in the first hundred feet is
ended in the last hundred. A question asked there is here
answered.

Secondly : Because this answer is given by Nicolai Kolin
in his long close-up at the end with one single, melancholy
look. He might have copied it from Chaplin, but Chaplin
also might envy him therefor. A pupil of Chaplin, but a
masterly one. So Kolin appears in the many humorous
situations of the dream play; full of comic surprises as well
as of tragic danger. The spectators laugh, but most
cautiously, so that the clown shall not lose his balance and
fall from the rope. Hanged. Awoken !

CLOSE UP

Thirdly : That the dream in the whistle of the sinister rider
contains so rehable a film idea. At its sound evervthino:
springs into motion. Rich and poor; living and dead; mov-
able and immovable ! All must dance and spin round. All
that the picture contains, even itself, too. Here the film, the
motion picture, overflows its own content. Its contents
overwhelm the form. Contents and form become one when
the picture begins to circle round itself.

Fourthly : That this union of content and form has been
preceded by a constant mutual approach. Expression adjusts
a playful rhythm to playful contents. Now soft, now loud.
Like a hammer on the galley whose rowers keep time together
though the helmsman sleeps. And he snores in time with the
whole crew, with the prince and the unseeing passenger in
the sack.

Fifthly : That this same rhythm becomes the unconcealed
motif of the decoration, processions, dances and buildings.
The symmetry reminds us of the primitive games and build-
ings of children. Onlv quantity and quality have been
enhanced to gigantic proportion.

Sixthly : That as courage is admirable — is it not laughable
to so colour the magnificent pictures, to have the heroes
pierce one another with their lances and have their heads
lopped off with their swords — yes, indeed I This consum-
mate enhancing of ingenuousness is the most cunning to be
imagined.

Lastly : Because I liked it so.

Please, my excuses !

A. Kraszxa-Krausz.

CLOSE UP

APOTRES ET MULTITUDE

Le branle est donne; partout Ton sonne le tocsin pour pre-
venir le peuple du grave danger qui le manace, et bientot, le
plus petit village sera a son tour informe du role detestable
que le film a joue jusqu'ici.

Les apotres foisonnent, qui viennent annoncer I'aube d'un
art nouveau, d'une rehabilitation du cinema. Comment,
vous n'avez pas conscience de Tetat d'hebetement dans lequel
les films vous ont graduellement plonges ; vous ne vous rendez
done pas compte que ces films n'etaient que des vehicules
de niaiseries ? Secouez done votre inertie, luttez avec nous
pour elever le niveau des productions cinematographiques,
abstenez-vous de soutenir cette deplorable industrie, ne vous
laissez plus gaver de nourriture abjecte, affirmez votre volonte
de gouter enfin quelque chose de noble, d'eleve. . .

Et tandis que les illumines s'agitent, groupant autour d*eux
le public habitue a la reflexion et au gout, la multitude ne
sait de quoi il retourne, ne pressent aucunement le danger
signale . . . et continue a porter ses vingt quatre sous au
guichet habituel, sans trop sMnquieter jamais de la qualite
ou de la valeur des films annonces. Quoi de plus naturel !
Sommes-nous vraiment fondes a accuser le cinema, plus que
toute autre chose de la torpeur du peuple? Et la littera-

CLOSE UP

ture, les gouts memes de ces gens diversement cultiv6s ! On
ne peut suggerer, a qui n'en a Tidee, qu'il est malheureux,
qu'il desire un perfectionnement quelconque. Eduquer le
public n'est pas petite affaire, et, en admettant que le cinema
puisse contribuer pour une large part a cette education, il n'en
reste pas moins que la tache est infiniment dure. Ce qui n'a
pu etre realise jusqu'ici qu'avec lenteur et tenacite, par
Tenseignement, les journaux (dans une certaine mesure) et les
oeuvres litteraires, ne peut Tetre beaucoup plus vite au moyen
de r6cran.

Ce que Paul ou Pierre viennent chercher dans une salle
obscure, c'est quelque chose dans leur genre : le premier,
sportif, veut du fracas, des prouesses, de la rivalite ... a
moi les muscles, foin de ces longues histoires qui ne finissent
par un bon uppercut ou une magistrale embardee d'auto ;
tandis que le second tient essentiellement aux histoires
raisonnables, aux denouements heureux. Certains, qui ont
vu les affiches, lu les titres aguichants, savent qu'on leur
servira des processions de girls aux toilettes sommaires.
D'autres enfin, et ils sont nombreux, apprecient, en hiver, la
chaleur des salles, Tentrain du pianiste ou la foule bruyante.
Et Tobscurite, propice aux premieres hardiesses sentimentales
des couples timides, n'a pas moins d'importance.

Dans tout cela, vraiment, la preoccupation d'art parait
reduite a sa plus simple expression et les hardis reformateurs
du cinema ne gagneraient pas beaucoup a vouloir Timplanter
de force dans les esprits, et ceci d'autant moins en projetant
publiquement des bandes quintessenciees qui font a Pierre ou
Paul Teflfet, cette fois indeniable, de drogues abrutissantes.

Mon Dieu que c'est idiot,*' s'exclamera-t-on, cela ne veut

CLOSE UP

rien dire." La recherche outree d'un effet artistique echappe
a Tattention du plus grand nombre, d'oii, en verite, elle
obtient Teffet exactement contraire.

N'exagerons rien, ce me semble, et sans prendre la lune
pour objectif direct, sans conseiller au public de s'abstenir de
voir les films qui lui plaisent, nous pouvons bien caresser
notre chimere d'education sociale et tourner de bons films, des
films d'elite repondant aux besoins actuels des spectateurs
avances et critiques. D'autres se chargeront assez de
poursuivre la fabrication de Tarticle courant, en sorte que
chacun en aura pour ses yeux. Qui salt, en ne sautant pas
trop brusquement dans un genre precieux, peut-etre reus-
sirons-nous, plus vite que nous oserions I'esperer, a mener
a bien la croisade du film intelligent.

Freddy Chevalley.

TWO FILM SNAGS

Close up, recently, has been at great pains to knock down
a lot of silly bogeys which have been put up to frighten away
the amateur film makers. But, in case anyone has got the
idea that amateur picture making is easy, let me whisper that
there are difficulties, lots of them, but they just don't happen
to be the ones which one would expect.

CLOSE UP

Scenarios, for instance, don't sort of appear out of the blue
because one happens to want to produce a film. And even if
one has got ideas it is not good enough to scribble a nebulous
plot on half a sheet of notepaper and then trust to brain waves,
after you have started production, to fill in the gaps.

Yet there are many amateurs who work with a script "
which amounts to little more than a few pencil notes scrawled
on a writing pad. They will talk by the hour about the dififi-
culties of making a mix on an amateur camera, but they never
think of putting one-tenth of the thought into the real problem
of preliminary organization.

Have you ever tried to collect the same dozen people at a
given place for three or four Sundays on end ? It seems to be a
task almost impossible of achievement. It is this collecting
of amateur artistes and technicians over week-ends which
wrecks so many amateur film projects.

Mr. A. is going to London this week-end, the week-end
after that Mr. A. can come, but Miss B. is going to Land's
End to see her grandmother or Mr. C. is taking his wife away
for the annual holiday. And so it goes on till at last a day
when everyone can turn up is found. At this point Mr. X. or
Mr. Y.'s motor-cycle breaks down and Mr. X or Mr. Y. (who
is invariably the lead or the cameraman or something equally
important) turns up about two hours late and upsets the whole
programme.

By this time you will be saying : Ah, but that fellow Le
Neve Foster doesn't organize his things properly." Well, I
dOy or at least I try to, but there are so many unforeseen
circumstances " in dealing with an amateur film company that
no amount of organization can get over.

CLOSE UP

The only satisfactory way of meeting this difficulty of
collecting one's company is, as far as I can see, to take them
away and camp out for a fortnight. This is what Ronald
Gow does with his Schoolboys, and he produces better
amateur films than anyone else I know. Unfortunately,
however, you cannot take an ordinary amateur film society
away, en masse, as you can a crowd of schoolboys.

I am afraid this is not at all constructive or helpful, but it is
a snag I have hit during every film I have made, and I pass it
on because it is one which appears to face every amateur pro-
ducer and is one which is never realized by the potential
amateur until he actually starts producing.

Peter Le Neve Foster.

COMMENT AND REVIEW

A RUSSIAN TOPICAL.

To commemorate the 11th Anniversary of the Russian
Workers' Revolution, the Tooting section of the Communist
Party of Great Britain screened, at the Tooting Co-operative
Hall, a film depicting the British Workers' Delegation to the
U.S.S.R. in November, 1927.

On October 29th, 1927, a party of British Delegates,
elected at the Workers' Conferences throughout the country,
sailed in the Russian steamship Soviet for Leningrad to spend

CLOSE UP

four weeks in Russia. A large number of delegates were
also sent from other countries, and altogether there were nearly
one thousand delegates from forty-three countries/'

With the censorious words of the Sunday Express still
ringing in our ears we went to the Tooting Co-operative Hall
very self-consciously, determined to be unbiassed. We rose
when the comrades sang The Red Flag, we kept silence in
memory of the fallen Lenin and other comrades ; we did not
want to be conspicuous, but we maintained our judicial
outlook. . .

The film opens with the shots of the Soviet steaming into
Leningrad. A ship arriving, something about to happen.
The suggested atmosphere is immediately spoilt by shots of
the old tourist-loved buildings ; these might have been
included in a topical taken under Czarist regime. It is dis-
appointing when we expected a sudden revelation, a pouncing
on the new ; but we only have to wait a short time for the
revelation. . . The camera is mounted on some railway which
is taking us through suburbs. Here are rows of lovely houses
in the style of Le Corbusier. Another street ; a concession to
those whose tastes are not so advanced; rows of glorified
villas such as we know in England. These houses have been
built within the last few years. Then scaffolds ; so more are
being built. Surely this is a real solution of the housing
problem ; the beautiful (and hygienic) houses of Le Corbusier,
and (tolerant and kindly thought) the little villas ?

Enthusiasm may spoil our promised judicial mind, and
thinking of The Sunday Express we tell ourself : This is
camouflage activity to hide the decay of the old.'' The fihn
answers us at once by showing us wondrous shots of factories.

CLOSE UP

I have seen many treatments of machines from the early Leger
and Murphy to the new La Marche des Machines of Deslaw
at the Studio 28 ; but I have never seen the poetic vision that
has been brought into this Russian Topical, More important
is the fact that here are the old factories running smoothly ;
moreover, the camera takes us down a mine, and we see the
men working in the pits. Extremists, whom we have had
the misfortune to meet quite often, are under the impression
that no modern Russian worker would deign to go down a
mine. Why," they tell us, that was why these men
revolted." The camera shows us men quietly going about
their jobs, and we are inclined to ask if these pictures do not
prove that the revolt was against impossible conditions.

Oil-fields, cigarette factories, every conceivable industry
seems to be conducting itself normally. Cranes swing into
the air their loads, dynamos revolve ; but the film record does
not rest with assuring our troubled minds that the old factories
are running smoothly, we are led inside new factories that
have been completed within the last three years, we are shown
enormous new water stations. Again, surely this is a real
attempt to solve the unemployment problem ?

In the country as well as the town. New machinery, re-
search laboratories for new agricultural methods. . .

The film reveals sociological as well as economical aspects.
An orchestra, without a conductor, a theatre, a play resem-
bling Potemkin; a dancing school, founded by Isadora
Duncan; a children's home; a peasant's music hall, acrobats
in cubist decor; physical culture classes; a reading room
thronged with men and women ; a workers' club where men
play chess.

CLOSE UP

Scenery in the Volga, nicely photographed; more new
factories and towns and (alas !) new statues. After The Last
Days of St. Petersburg and Ten Days we would have thought
that the Russian would have had enough of statues. There
must be something in man that compels him to make monu-
ments. Thank the gods that these are the least displeasing
of statues, sculptured in modern style.

At the conclusion of the tour there is a triumphant march
past the Kremlin in Moscow of thousands of Russian workers,
led by the Red Army.'*

This sequence has the power of the best Russian classical
films.

A comrade on our right asked us if we would like a copy
of the words of the International. Our judicial mind warned
us that we were carried away by the art of the film, but we
almost felt sorry that we cannot sing.

O. B.

FILM REVIEWS
A Document of Shanghai.

The first production of Volksverband fiir Filmkunst. Direc-
tion : Leinhard. Cutting by Albrecht Victor Blum.
Titles by Franz Hollering.

The strength of this film is in its presentation of actuality.
The real event has so great a hold on the observer. These
photographs of the Chinese insurrection in Shanghai last
year, despite their crudity, move us more profoundly than any

CLOSE UP

fabricated scenes. The Document of Shanghai, in spite of
almost desperate attempts to be a strongly propagandistic
film, succeeds not through propaganda at all but through its
impartiality. And in a case of this description impartiality
is, so to speak, its own propaganda. For instance, in the long
sequences of drawn out comparisons between native coolie life
and that of the European and American " culture although
the natives are shown to us in circumstances of misery and
subjection more than sufficient to bring home to us the need
for alleviation or reform, we are next shown the lives of the
Europeans and Americans in such a light that we feel we are
called upon to say shocking when we can hardly claim
to be shocked or surprised at anything except that such simple
conduct should be thought corrupt or cruel. Thus, the first
scenes, the toiling coolies, the teaming river, and incredible
hovels on the city's outskirts, impartial, tragic and sufficiently
eloquent, are overlaid with a comparison or contrast which
does not make us feel, as it was intended to, that here were
indolent, indifferent and insufferable tyrants, but, on the other
hand, called forth our defence, and the thought that oppres-
sion and social tyranny did not come merely with the coming
of the Americans and Europeans, whereas sanitation, health
propaganda, drainage, commerce and developments did.

As an example of weakness where there might otherwise
have been strength, we are shown a small procession of coolies
toiling down a dusty road drawing a heavy cart. Hot, says
the sub-title, are the summers of Shanghai. The coolies stop
at a roadside fountain to quench their thirst. One of them
peeps through the fence at the roadside and sees the Euro-
peans and Americans pleasantly bathing in the swimming

CLOSE UP

pool. The coolies drink the water from the fountain (we are
spared a close-up showing it teeming with impurities), while
we are next shown a close-up of a glass of lemonade being
stirred with a straw. Yes, we feel, quite right. The coolies,
too, should have these pleasant things. Dancing now on the
plage to a gramophone. The Coolie looking through the
fence seems to appreciate the spectacle. Sub-title (scathingly)

The European and American culture We must be for-
given if we are somewhat shocked. Instead of the point
being why should these things not be available to all, it was
look at the corrupt taskmasters.

This incident and others like it merely wasted time. The
women and children working in the factories, with their babies
on the floor beneath the tables where their mothers worked,
together with the statement that women and children worked
twelve hours per day for roughly sevenpence and twopence
respectively, while the men worked fifteen hours per day, were
terrible enough, and left to ourselves we would quickly
enough have asked Who is responsible We have to
ask it, in any case, but we are not guided to, but rather led
away, from the answer by the weak and irrelevant shots of
bathing pools, yachts and race meetings.

The whole of the end, dealing with the mass meetings, the
riots and the actual shooting of coolie prisoners (most of
which was deleted when I saw it the second time because
audiences do not like this sort of thing ") were enthralling
and terrible. The coming of the British, French, Italian and
Chinese armies to put dow^n the insurrection, and the starved,
mute, desperate workers massing against them, truly a voice
in the wilderness, presented more tersely and more poignantly

CLOSE UP

perhaps than ever before the raw and awful problem of
individual right.

K. M.

Geschlect Im Fesseln {Sex in Fetters)^ a Nero film, with
Dieterle and Mary Johnson, is a serious contribution to the
growing demand for prison reform. People forget that fifty
years ago it was a common thing in England for seven-year-
old children to be put in prison, but though the w^orld has
made progress much remains to be done, and it appears to be
the general reflection of educated opinion that the whole policy
of tyranny and restriction combined with no re-educative
methods must be scrapped in the interests of civilisation, as
soon as possible. Another film showing this moment, also
in Berlin, touches on the same problem. The Godless Girl,
directed by C. M. de Mille. But although some of the
brutality of a reformatory school is indicated, the real problem
of punishment is left untouched. No suggestions for con-
structive improvement are offered. It is quite different with
the German film. There, again, many sides of the question
are omitted. For in a decent system of medical and psycho-
logical re-education, which is what the so-called criminal
needs, the unbearable monotonv of days spent in a tiny room
with companions of an anti-social type and without occupa-
tion, the particular kind of repression dealt with in the film
hardly could exist. Granting, however, that prisons will for
some time to come remain as at present constituted, the film
is a serious plea for consideration that the sex life of prisoners

CLOSE UP

can no more be stamped out than can desire for food or sleep,
and that, in fact, in view of their being many of them, strong
and accustomed to violent physical exercise which is suddenly
denied them, sex is going to become practically the entire
object and outlet of their life.

The hero of the film commits manslaughter defending his
wife and is sentenced to three years' imprisonment. The
beginning is slow, but directly the prison itself is reached the
film achieves a sensation of power and unrelenting tyranny
which proves its purpose of serious consideration. At first
the hero can think only of his wife. The days of monotony
and no exercise except a routine hour in the prison yard begin
to do their work. The prisoners toss in their beds. One boy
makes a woman out of scraps of bread. An exaggerated
svmbol. Days pass. The tension in their minds grows, until
finally the one boy snatches at a revolver in a fit of temporary
insanity and shoots himself. The corpse is dragged out,
another prisoner brought in. Days go on.

The rare meetings permitted husband and wife in presence
of a guard continue. At first the guard had almost to pull
them apart. Now they are growing strange to each other
w^ith new lives. Another man has fallen in love with the wife.
But she is waiting with a calendar, scratching off days.
Finally, however, in a fit of temporary madness, she falls into
the man's arms, thinking him for that moment to be her
husband.

In the prison the husband is gradually growing less un-
happy. For a strong friendship has developed with the
prisoner in the next bed. This other boy is new to the prison.
He feels it in all its stark, unbearable intensity. One night

CLOSE UP

both of them, unable to sleep, turn to each other. The wife is
forgotten .

But the day comes when the husband is freed. He goes
home, goes in and out of doors for the sake of knowing they
open. But the wife has to tell him of her other friendship,
and at the same moment the prisoner friend, released a few
days before and who has been counting the days till the
husband also was freed, comes in quite simply with flowers.

Husband and wife decide there is only one way out. They
turn the gas on, while outside motors crowd up and down the
streets, the wind blows, boys run, life continues.

This film was shown in a cinema packed with elderly Ger-
man ladies of a sound and stolid type. They were interested,
they discussed it as they came out. It is said that the film is
most successful in the more conventional and reactionary parts
of Germany. It is strange that a couple of hundred miles
should make such an immense difference in outlook. Think
what would happen to the Sunday Express if, as part of their
daily duties, they had to review such a film ?

W. B.

The Hungarian Rhapsody.

Erich Pommer Production for Ufa, directed by

with Dita Parlo, Lil Dagover and Willy Fritz. Photo-
graphy : Carl Hoffmann.

Waving corn, summer, workers in the field, a good begin-
ning, wonderfully photographed, but waving corn, that is
Preobrashenskaja's discovery, and we remember The Peasant

CLOSE UP

Women and give nothing to this scene of Hungarian
Rhapsody. Interminable lengths of interminable scenes
grind out and on, and on and out. Willy Fritz, stouter and
moustached, Lil Dagover with her classic attributes of a
Roman matron, willowing in doorways and white chiffon, and
Dita Parlo, and Dita Parlo. Why? However, someone
must have had a reason for choosing her, so let it go at that.
How can anybody anyhow have had both Dita Parlo and such
intolerable slowness in one film ? Scenes which legitimately
might be given one minute drag on and on and on. It is not
even a repertoire of Hungarian folk music with cinemato-
graphic illustrations. Between our forty winks we miss
nothing and w^ake to the same scene we went to sleep on. The
Hungarian Rhapsody is about as rhapsodic as a wet Sunday
afternoon in the country. Hoffmann does wonderful things
with his camera. But miracles of photography could not have
saved such clotted dullness.

All For a Woman {Loves of the Mighty)^ shortly to be seen
at the Avenue Pavilion.

The above is the story of Danton's leadership and fall, his
quarrels and enmity with Robespierre, St. Just and others.
Danton, the outstanding figure of the French Revolution,
captured the Tuileries, and under his leadership the old regime
was put definitely to an end. A dictatorship of terror
commenced. Danton formed in Paris a Revolution Tribunal,
by means of which political and private opponents were simply

CLOSE UP

got rid of. Misuse of this Tribunal by Robespierre, St. Just
and Fouquier Tinville created such strong disgust in Danton
that he withdrew from it and planned to form a Republic and
end the Revolution. His indolence and neglect were the
direct cause of his downfall. This, roughly, is the story of
All For a Woman, which will shortly be seen at the Avenue
Pavilion, and which is one of the great filrn classics which
all should see, starring Emil Jannings as Danton, Werner
Krauss as Robespierre, and Mady Delschaft. The picture
v/as directed by Dimitri Buchowetzki, whose other productions
include The Swan, Graustarky Crown of Life, Midnight Sun,
Valencia, Othello, Peter the Great and Mad Love. The art
director is Hans Dreier.

HOLLYWOOD NOTES

William J. Locke is the latest literary celebrity to be lured
to Hollywood. He is here in response to the remunerative
invitation of Joseph Schenck, President of United Artists, to
write an original screen story for Norma Talmadge, who is
Mr. Schenck's wife as well as his most profitable star. Locke's
venture into the field of scenario writing will be watched with
interest, in view of the failure or disappointment of so many
of his fellow illustrious novelists who have come, and seen,
but have not conquered Hollywood. In accordance with
custom Mr. Locke, as a distinguished personage, was greeted
at the station upon his arrival with music and flowers and a

CLOSE UP

concourse of film celebrities and municipal dignitaries.
Whatever the outcome of his stay, therefore, he will carry
away with him the remembrance of a colorful welcome and the
assurance that Hollywood recognized him as a man of achieve-
ments and worthy of salutatory honor.

* * *

Electrical engineers at First National Studios are perfecting
a television device for the especial use and convenience of
studio executives. It consists of a telephone with a vision
screen directly above it. The telephone works on the dial
system, by which a film executive can automatically connect
his office with any one of the stages and thus permit himself
at any desired time to overlook the scenes that are being taken,
without leaving his desk. An extension of this device will
also permit the simultaneous screening of a film in the projec-
tion room and the offices or homes of studio officials.

The value of the silver reclaimed from the developer tanks
of the various Hollywood laboratories totals approximately
eight and a half million dollars a year. This reclamation of
the silver which enters into the sensitized coating of photo-
graphic film constitutes a profitable by-product of picture
making. Much of the precious metal thus recovered is sold
to the United States mint at San Francisco and eventually
enters mto the coinage of the country. Other large quantities
are disposed of to silversmiths.

Austin Strong's Drums of Oude is being filmed at the
Paramount Studio. The play is laid in the wilds of India, and
its dramatic spectacle of a primitive tribe in conflict with a

74"

CLOSE UP

handful of settlers at a lonely jungle outpost will be brought
to the screen with the realistic cries and noise of warfare in
addition to complete audible dialog. The director is J. Roy
Pomeroy, who devised the sound synchronization method
used by the Lasky-Paramount Company and who directed
their first talking picture, Interference, which has recently
been released.

* * ♦

Cecil B. de Mille has started work on his first production
for M-G-M, with which he recently allied himself following
the reliquishment of his own studio organization. The pic-
ture, under the title of Dynamite, concerns itself with ultra-
modern society and marks de MilleVs return to the type of
photodrama with which his name is uniquely associated. The

story is an original one, wTitten by Jeanie Macpherson.

* * *

Joseph von Sternberg is following his current production.
The Docks of New York, with a talking picture, featuring
Esther Ralston. Work on the new film. The Case of Lena
Smith, started early in October, at the Paramount Studio.

The recent merger of the Warner Brothers and the First
National film companies, with the Stanley Theatre Company
as a subsidiary member of the amalgamation, represents a
capital of two hundred million dollars and the control of three
thousand cinemas. This not only constitutes one of the largest
and most momentous combinations in the history of filmdom,
but it also marks the first of the many changes and shifts in
motion picture organization that may be looked for as a result
of the advent of the phonofilm.

CLOSE UP

Panchromatic make-up for colored actors is one of the latest
problems to be solved by screen technicians. The problem
was recently presented for the first time in connection with the
picture Hallelujah, now being filmed at the Metro-Goldwyn-
Mayer studio. Based upon an original story by King Vidor,
and directed by him, this talking photodrama is laid against a
background of primitive Negro life in the South and presents
an all-Negro cast of players.

P>om a scenario prepared by himself, William C. de Mille
is phonofilmiiig Barrie's Half an Hour, with H. B. Warner
and Ruth Chaterton enacting the leading roles. Meeting the
newly-created requirements of phonofilm production, de Mille
is carefully rehearsing all of his scenes in advance of taking.
Since the abandonment of his brother Cecil's personal organi-
zation, with which he was identified, William has been
associated with the Lasky-Paramount Company as a producer-
director, and his forthcoming Half an Hotir will be released
under their banner.

* * *

Fanny Hurst's Lummox, which created a stir in the book
world a few years ago, is now to be screened by United Artists
under the direction of Herbert Brenon. Those who recall the
episodic, morbid, unenlivened story with its martyr character
of the unloved and unlovely serving woman will await with
interest its belated screen translation.

William Fox is backing his faith in Movietone and talking
pictures in general with an investment of ten million dollars
in the building of an auxiliary studio at Westwood, a few miles

CLOSE UP

seaward of Hollywood. This studio, to be devoted wholly to

phonofilms, occupies a space of forty acres and includes

among its many buildings four concrete sound-proof stages,

each 225 x 125 feet in dimension.

* * *

Preparations are under way at First National studios for an
elaborate screen production of Max Reinhardt's The Miracle,
The film rights to this celebrated morality play were secured a
short time ago, after more than two years of controversy and
competitive bidding on the part of several Hollywood film
companies. It is estimated that the filming of the play, in-
cluding its photophone musical accompaniment, will involve
an outlay of some two million dollars.

C. H.

Mention must be made of the interesting experiment of
Pierre Ramelot, who founded a few months ago Le Club de
L'Ecran, where twice a month hitherto unseen non-commer-
cial films are shown or old classics are revived. A public
debate is held after the projection. Young directors who
experience difficulty in getting their work shown can enquire
of the Club de L'Ecran in Paris, who will be glad to aid
them and to consider the presentation of their films.

The death of Maurice Stiller has been a genuine loss to the
whole cinema world. This great Swedish director, pioneer
of the artistic film, did more for the screen than people will
ever realise. When others were despising the lowly medium.

CLOSE UP

when it was given over exclusively to vulgarity akin to that of
the penny novelette, Stiller was forming his new conception
of a great art, developing its potentialities, seeing far into the
future. He was a great artist, working with profound care
and intensity. His intensity may have been in part respon-
sible for his early demise. Europe and America will mourn
him, and the cinema will miss him, for the real leaders of
screen progress are few and far between and can ill-afford to
be lost.

Those who have admired his works, from faithful followers
to the general public, should now be given a revival of his
films. Recently we had Gosta Berling in London. But
surely it would be of real help as well as of interest to all
students to see now a complete revival of his works. It would
be a fascinating record of development and change. It would
be a tribute to Stiller, and a monument to his greatness.
Perhaps it will be done?

* * #

Japanese Director Tours European Studios.

J. Singe Sudzuky, director of the Bantsuma-Tachibana
Universal Motion Picture Studio of Japan, three stills from
whose films are reproduced in our illustrated supplement of
this issue, having directed ceaselessly for six years, is only
now taking his first vacation. Having, in the six years, made
as many as thirty films, this vacation is very much in the
nature of a busman's holiday as he is at present studying
European production methods in Germany and plans to visit
France and England, and afterwards Hollywood.

CLOSE UP

Mr. Sudzuky is perhaps the youngest director in Japan,
certainly the youngest to have thirty films to his credit, many
of which are purely in the realm of experiment. He has
much of the greatest interest to tell of Japan and Japanese
production methods, and we will have much pleasure in giving
a full account of his interesting disclosures in our January
issue, together with further photographs of great fascination
and beauty from Japanese productions, kindly given to Close
Up by Mr. Sudzuky.

FILMS TO SEE
Selected at Random from Current Releases.
First Choice (A). Second Choice (B). Third Choice (C).
Russian.

Bed and Sofa (Trois dans un Sous-Sol). Sud film release.
Ludmila Semenova, W. Fogel and Nicolei Bataloff. Directed
by Alexander Room. Masterpiece of tragic psychology. (A)

End of St. Petersburg, The. Meschrabpom-Russ produc-
tion. Derussa release. Direction : W. Pudowkin. ]\Iss. :
Natan Zarchi. Photography : Anatoli] Golownia. Sets :
Koslov^'ski. Played by Baranowskaja, W. Oblensky as
Lebedeff. J. Tschuwileff and Tschistiakoff. (A)

CLOSE UP

Forty-First, The. Meschrabpom-Russ film, Derussa
release. Direction : Protasanov.

Mechanics of the Brain. Scientific film made by W.
Pudowkin and Professor Pavlov. (A)

Moscow that Laughs and ]Veeps. Meschrabpom-Russ,
released by Derussa. Direction : Barnett. Anna Sten, J.
Kowal-Samborski, W. Fogel. Delightful new aspects of
comedy possibility. (B)

Mother, The. Meschrabpom-Russ. From the story by
Maxim Gorki. Direction: W. Pudowkin. The mother:
W. Baranowskaja. The father : Leinstjakoff. The son :
Nicolei Bataloff. (A)

Peasant Women of Riazanj {Das Dorf der Sunde). Sovkino
film, Derussa release. Directed by Olga Preobrashenskaja.
R. Pushnaja as Anna, E. Zessarskaja as Wassilissa, O.
Narbekowa as the mistress, E. Fastrebitski as Wassily. (A)

Pits {Die Fallgruben des Lehens), sl new film by A. Room.
Meschrabpom-Russ Film. (B)

Son, The. Sovkino film. Derussa release. Direction :

E. Tscherwjakov. Anna Sten, Gennadij Mitschurin. (B)

Ten Days that Shook the World {Oktober). Sovkino film,
released by Prometheus Film A.G. Direction : S. M. Eisen-
stein. One of the strongest films ever made. Cameraman :
Tisse. Assistant : G. Alexandroff. (A)

Tivo Days. Wufku Film. Directed by George Stabavoj.

F. E. Samytschkowski in a marvellous role. S. A. ]\linin as
his son. (A)

CLOSE UP

Yellow Pass, The. Meschrabpom-Russ. Released by
Derussa. Direction : F. Ozep. Anna Sten, J. Kowal-
Samborski, \A\ Fogel. (B)

Zvenigora. Wufku. Direction : Dobschenko. Nikolas
Xademsky in remarkable character role. (B)

German.

Crisis (Abwege). Erda Film, released by Deutsche-
Universal. Direction : G. W. Pabst. Brigitte Helm, Jack
Trevor, Herta v. Walter, Gustav Diesel, Fritz Odemar. (B)

City Symphony (Berlin).. By Walter Ruttman. A day in
Berlin with neither actors nor sets. Photographv by Carl
Freund. (B)

Looping the Loop. Arthur Robison production for Ufa.
}^lss. : Arthur Robison and Robert Liebmann. Photo-
graphy : Carl Hoffmann. Sets by Robert Herlth and Walter
R-ohrig. In the cast: Werner Krauss, Jenny Jugo and
Warwick Ward. (C)

Loves of Jeanne Ney , Ufa. Direction : G. W. Pabst.
Mss. : Leonhardt. Photography : F. A. Wagner. Edith
Jehanne, Brigitte Helm, Uno Henning, Fritz Rasp, A. E.
Licho, Vladimir Sokoloff. (A)

Marquis d'Eon, Emelka Film, directed by Carl Grune,
with superb photography by F. A. Wagner. Liane Haid
mistakenly cast as the Marquis. (C)

Master of Xiirnberg. Phoebus Film. Direction: Ludwig
Berger. Maria Solveg. Gustav Frohlich. (C)

CLOSE UP

Out of the Mist, ^ Defu Production. Direction : Fritz
Wendhausen. Madv Christians, Werner Fuetterer, Madimir
Sokoloff. (C)

Refuge. Henny Porten-Frolich Production for Ufa,
starring' Henny Porten with Franz Lederer. Gaumont release
in England. (C)

The Spy, Ufa. Fritz Lang Production. Mss. : Thea
von Harbou. Photography : F. A. Wagner. Willv Fritz,
Lupu Pick, Gerda Maurus, Lien Devers, R. Klein-Rogge.
(C)

Sex in Fetters, Xero Film, with Wm. Dieterle and Mary
Johnson. (R)

Shanghai, Document of, Volksverband fiir Filmkunst.
Directed by Lienhard, cut by A. Mctor Blum and titled by
Franz Hollering. (B)

Tragedy of the Street, Pantomim Film. Direction :
Bruno Rahn. Photography : Guido Seeber. Asta Nielsen
in wonderful role. Oscar Homolka, Hilda Jennings, W.
Pittschaw. (B)

Teji Mark Xote, Adventures of. Fox-Europa Production.
Direction : Viertel. Werner Fuetterer, Anna Meiller,
Imogen Robertson, Walter F^'rank. (C)

Frenxh.

Chapeau de Faille d'ltalie {Italian Straiv Hat). Albatross
Film. Directed by Rene Clair. Featuring Olga Tschekowa.
(B)

CLOSE UP

En Rade, Xeotilm. Direction : Alberto Cavalcanti. (B)

Passion de Jeanne d'Arc. Carl Dreyer's great film, with
Falconetti and Sylvain. (B)

Rien que les Heures. Xeofilm. Direction : Alberto
Cavalcanti. (B)

Therese Raquin. First National. Direction : Jacques
Feyder. (C)

Verdun, Leon Poirier's epic of the War. (B)

Voyage an ('on go. Xeofilm. Record by Marc Allegret of
his journey with Andre Gide to the Congo.

American.

Camera Man, The. The newest Buster Keaton, and one of
the best to date. Supporting are ^>Iarceline Day, Harold
Goodwin and Sidney Bracy. (A)

Chicago. Pathe de Mille. With Phyllis Haver and
\'ictor \"arconi. (C)

Docks of Xew York. Paramount. Directed by Josef von
Sternberg. George Bancroft, Baclanova, Bettv Compson.
(C)

Dragnet, The. Paramount. Deft Underworld touches.
George Bancroft, Wm. Powell. Laurels to Evelyn Brent. (C)

Godless Girl, The. C. B. de ]\Iille Production, with Lina
Basquette and Charles Duryea. Excellent and strong begin-
ning dwindles into broad melodrama. (C)

King of Kings. Producers Distributing. Directed by
C. B. de ^lille. (B)

CLOSE UP

Manhattan Cocktail. New Dorothy Arzner Film, with
charming comedy work by LiUan Tashman. (B)

Man Who Laughs, The. Universal. Direction : Paul
Leni. Conrad Veidt, Mary Philbin, Baclanova. (C)

First Kiss, The. Fay Wray and Gary Cooper. (C)

Speedy. Paramount. A really good Harold Lloyd
comedy. (C)

Stella Polaris. Fox. Fine film of northern hunting. (B)

Student Prince, The. Lubitsch Film, with Norma Shearer
and Ramon Novarro. (B)

Sunrise. Fox. Direction : F. W. Murnau. George
O'Brien, Janet Gaynor and Margaret Livingston. (C)

Underworld. Paramount. Directed by Josef von Stern-
berg. George Bancroft, Evelyn Brent and Clive Brook. (B)

White Shadows in the South Seas. New Monte Blue Film
for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. (B)

^BOOK REVIEWS

The immediate reaction to opening This Film Business, by
R. P. Messel, Benn, 12/6, is to w^onder for what kind of reader
such a book was designed? Actually it is an entertainmg
and individual record of a "fan's''' likes and dislikes in
films, but it is priced too highly for its public at twelve and
sixpence. If it is intended as a guide to current cinemato-
graphy it is a failure, as all the important events of the past
years are omitted. ,

CLOSE UP

Anyone, may write an account of some historical event in
which he has happened to share. These diaries, reportings,
letters, odd notes, may have enormous value for a later genera-
tion. But a historian must know his subject, even the angles
of it of which he does not personally approve, and where his
material is not at his elbow, he must be prepared to travel
afield in search of it.

In a history of the cinema it is impossible to ignore the
recent work of Russia, Germany and France. A portion of a
chapter, it is true, Mr. Messel devotes to PotemkiUy but he
gives the impression that this film is the only one that Eisen-
stein has produced, and even states that there are only two
examples extant of the truthful film, Potemkin arid The
Emden. But what of Ten Days, The End of St. Petersburg,
Strike, etc ? They are well known to the trade press, and
Mr. Messel could have obtained particulars by ringing up
any good trade paper. None of the other Russian directors
are mentioned, not even Pudowkin, yet, even if Russian films
are not yet available in England, they are shown freely and
successfully in the commercial cinemas abroad.

Coming to Germany, we are given an interesting summary
of Secrets of the Soul, but the name of the director, G. W.
Pabst, is omitted. This is rather like describing the natural
hisiory of an island on a chart but omitting the island's name.

There is much excellent comment on Metropolis, but no
mention of its been having so cut as hardly to be coherent
in England.

There is no comment on modern German developments,
though many of their new films have been shown in London,
notably Jeanne Ney, Berlin, Out of the Mist, The Spy, etc.

CLOSE UP

France is scarcely mentioned, except that it has produced no
War film, but Verdun has been given plenty of publicity in
the trade press for months. There is no criticism of Caval-
canti or of Rene Clair; of Epstein or Delluc.

Mr. Alessel is at his best when analysing the better known
American films, such as Greed or The Big Parade, He points
out, truly, that it was the pacifism inherent in American War
pictures that made them popular with English soldiers but
unpopular with some sections of the Press. He has an im-
mense enthusiasm for films, and as an expression of his own
preferences the book makes entertaining reading. But it is
not in any way a history of the cinema : in fact, it seems so
out of date that one wonders whether the manuscript has not
been held up from publication for some reason for a couple
of years and never revised. Film societies who are installing
a library, however, will find it a pleasant book to add to their
shelves when funds permit.

* * *

Der Sichtbare Mann, by Bela Balazs. Wilhelm Knapp,
Halle Saale. ]^Iuhlweg 19, Germany.

The author confines himself from the first lines of his work
to the advanced possibilities of the cinema : a popular art
which merits the attention of every intellectual equally with
other art forms — music, painting, sculpture, etc.

If the cinema has hitherto been the blissful paradise of the
naive, it has now developed sufficientlv to give the most subtle
delight.

CLOSE UP

The film does not express life imperfectly, for if the spoken
word is excluded, the externalisation of feelings shows itself
luminously in gesture and mime, simple expressions of the
spirit, which the author considers, in their perfection, as con-
stituting the final step in the development of culture.

Gesture and mime transmit a universal idea, understood
equally by all ; thus the cinema is the first international lan-
guage.

The poets of the film are the director and the actors, for the
poetic substance is here enclosed in expression and the means
employed to obtain it. The theatre itself is valuable essen-
tially for the pieces it plays, and without belittling in any way
the importance of its " roles " and the talent of its actors,
one realises always that they are not, like those of the cinema,
endowed with such free initiative nor such a wide possibility
of enriching by personal achievement the value of the action.
Remains the cameraman, the eye through which we must see,
who composes the play of light and shadows. This last is
somewhat the painter of the screen.

A good film is not narration and does not have to explain
itself, for it is at once means and end, cause and effect. As
the masterpiece of a sculptor or painter, it is not valuable for
any special feature, but yields a visual impression which is
its individual characteristic.

It is in the " literary " films that the images are jostled in
serried ranks to faithfully illustrate the text ; these are trans-
lations, not creations, for an artistic film should be composed
solely of purely visual material.

The soul of the film is its atmosphere. This atmosphere is
primarily conveyed by the play of the actors, and it is not so

CLOSE UP

much what their action consists of as the manner in which
it is conducted which matters and brings warmth and life to
the film.

The screen actor should be above all a character and
if one is surprised now and then to see almost exclusively
beautiful faces on the screen, it is that physiognomony is part
of the very technique of films, and beauty, in the words of
Kant, is the symbol of good.

The close-up is the art of accentuation of the film. Here
the objects do not play the part of decoration, but create a
thought, a train of definite ideas. Thus machines have be-
come the symbol of a civilisation heedless of the murders it
provokes.

Animals brmg to the screen the most completely successful
realism ; children are almost as agreeable to see for the same
reason.

Rhythm, which is the art of giving nuance to the movement
of images, is to the film what style is to the writer.

Time perspective, the passing of hours, is assured by the
rhythm of the scene, the space into which it fits, its clearness.
The more the intermediate scenes, interspaced in main action,
are separated from the circumstances evoked, from the scene
chosen, the more illusion one has of the lapse of time. The
length of a scene does not offer only rhythmic possibility but
permits equally the creation of a special state of mind in the
spectator.

It is necessary to give to each image its space of time. One
metre too much induces ennui ; one too liltle is likely to take
away the portent of a whole scene.

CLOSE UP

The text of a film need not be perfect. Its effect depends
much more on its place between image and image than on its
literary value.

The color film ! It would not give anything and would take
much from the artistic possibilities of the cinema. Color is
too positive, the objects would be too heavy. The neuter
greys of present photography are infinitely more delicate.

Chaplin incarnates the dreamer, the unadapted. He is the
poor fool who opposes to civilisation, to sentimental complica-
tions, to formulas and formal beings, his primitively intelli-
gent and spontaneous instinct. Chaplin is the poet of the
humble, of things which one neglects.

AsTA Nielsen plays with her soul almost exclusively. Her
eyes are remarkably expressive, shine with love, desire, bitter-
ness, with equal delicacy. Asta Nielsen disdains the direct
methods of sex appeal ; her body remains virtuously hidden ;
her face alone is the tablet whereon is written the thousand
intimate thoughts which, turn by turn, traverse her mind.

The above random translations will succeed partly in giving*
the clue to this witty and wise book which is recommended
warmly to all who are able to read in German. There is a
kind of Nietschean terseness of philosophy which has the
Nietschean gift of making self-evident facts evident for the
first time. It collects the most helpful summaries, and has
compartments, filed, ticketed and indexed for all its orderly
thoughts.

. * « ^

CLOSE LP

Ten Days That Shook the World.

By John Reed. ^Modern Books Limited, 26, Bedford Row,
London. Price, Two Shillings.

" Here is a book I should like to see published in millions
of copies and translated into all languages " wrote Lenin in a
short introduction to what is perhaps the most significant book
on the Revolution in Russia that has been or will be written.
Ten Days That Shook the World is, of course, the foundation
of Eisenstein's tilm of the same name, and in its way is just
as compelling, just as monumental as the film that goes
one better than Potemkin " !

Mr. Reed's extraordinary grip of the minutest details in
connection with the rising and domination of the Bolsheviki
is actually nothing short of marvellous. Nobody w^ho has
followed the turbulent rebirth of this gigantic country will
be so equipped with knowledge or reason but he will not be
able to learn much from these pages. Instructive reading?
Say rather enthralling, for Mr. Reed, whose death took place
some years ago in Russia, had a broadness of view, a quality,
as it were, of spiritual understanding, which pervades the
book in verv much the same wav that spiritual understanding
pervades the work of the best Russian film directors. As a
result of this we are given not onlv facts, not only a chronicle,
but a wealth of suggestion and nuance which lends atmos-
phere, gives light and dark and cloud and rain and wind to
the gaunt, moonlike crags of bare fact. We feel the revolu-
tion surging toward us like a storm. Graphic descriptions
of tempestuous meetings, of attempts to fight it out to

CLOSE UP

adjust ; all the flux and fury of a people smashing awav old
fetters. Philosophies and agony, moralisings, inspiration
and frenzy., culminating in the overthrow of the Provisional
Government and the victory of the Soviet Workers and
Military Revolutionary Committee.

" Winter was coming on — the terrible Russian winter. I
heard business men speak of it so : ' Winter was always
Russia's best friend. Perhaps now it will rid us of Revolu-
tion.' On the freezing front miserable armies continued to
starve and die without enthusiasm. The railways were
breaking down, food lessening, factories closing. The
desperate masses cried out that the bourgeoisie was sabotaging
the life of the people, causing defeat on the Front."

. . . I have personally met officers on the Northern Front
Avho frankly preferred military disaster to co-operation with
the Soldiers' Committees. . . I know^ of coal mines near
Kharkov which were fired and flooded by their owners, of
textile factories at Moscow whose engineers put the machinery
out of order when they left, of railroad officials caught by the
workers in the act of crippling locomotives. . ." This was
the prelude to the big November Revolution following the
June uprisings. Life still went on as before, cinemas,
theatres, shops, all were open. " Young ladies from the
provinces came up to the capital to learn French and cultivate
their voices. . . The daughter of a friend of mine came home
one afternoon in hysterics because the woman street-car con-
ductor had called her ' Comrade !' "

" Think of the poorly-clad people standing on the iron-
white streets of Petrograd whole days in the Russian winter !

CLOSE UP

I have listened in the bread-lines, hearing the bitter, acrid
note of discontent which from time to time burst up through
the miraculous good nature of the Russian crowd. . ."

Conditions were daily more chaotic. Hundreds of
thousands of soldiers were deserting the front and beginning
to move in vast, aimless tides over the face of the land. . .
Immense strikes and lock-outs convulsed Moscow, Odessa
and the coal mines of the Don. Transport was paralvsed ;
the army was starving, and in the big cities there was no
bread."-

Russia was in a ferment. Kerensky himself came twice,
to plead passionately for national unity, once bursting into
tears at the end. . . On the night of October 30th, Trotzky
branded the assertions of the bourgeois press that the Soviet
contemplated armed insurrection as 'an attempt of the
reactionaries to discredit and wreck the Congress of
Soviets. . .'" Feverish days when nobody knew what
would happen next, when everybody knew something must
happen, and happen quickly. Lenin wrote : " Either we
must abandon our slogan ' All power to the Soviets ' or else
we must make an insurrection. There is no middle course."
Tuesday morning, November 6th, a placard signed Military
Revolutionary Committee attached to the Petrograd Soviet of
Workers' and Soldiers' Deputies" warned of counter-
revolutionary movements. " Citizens," it added, We call
upon you to maintain complete quiet and self-possession. The
cause of order and Revolution is in strong hands."

The city was nervous, starting at every sharp sound. But
still no sign from the Bolsheviki ; the soldiers stayed in the

CLOSE UP

barracks, the workmen in the factories. . . We went to a
moving picture show near the Kazan Cathedral — a bloody
Italian film of passion and intrigue."

November 7th. " We w^ent into the Hotel France for
dinner, and right in the middle of soup the waiter, very pale
in the face, came up and insisted that we move to the main
dining-room at the back of the house, because they were going
to put out the lights in the cafe. ' There will be much shoot-
ing,' he said."

" Pickets of a dozen soldiers with fixed bayonets lounged at
the street crossings, red-faced old men in rich fur coats shook
their fists at them, smartly dressed women screamed epithets;
the soldiers argued feebly with embarrassed grins. . ."

More ferment, more soldiers, meetings, cheering, menace.
" Trotzky standing up w^ith a pale, cruel face, letting out his
rich voice in cool contempt, ' All these so-called Socialist
compromisers, these frightened Alensheviki, Socialist Revo-
lutionaries, Bund — let them go! They are just so much
refuse which will be swept away in the garbage-heap of
history.' " On the night of the 7th, " the city w^as quiet —
probably never so quiet in its history; on that night not a
single hold-up occurred, not a single robbery."

" It w^as exactly 5.17 a.m. when Krylenko, staggering with
fatigue, climbed to the tribune with a telegram in his hand.
' The Twelfth Army sends greetings to the Congress of
Soviets.' A Military Revolutionary Committee had taken
over command of the Northern Front. General Tchermissov
had recognised the Committee — Commissar of the Provisional
Government Voitinskv had resio;ned !"

CLOSE L P

We are swept on the crest of titanic events. Mr. Reed
maintains an extraordinary literary coolness. Where other
writers would liave thrown coherence to the winds in excite-
ment and personal feeling, he has always remained the
recorder — the camera, so to speak, showing us all the rush of
events, itself securely planted, evenly cranked. His analvsis
of Lenin is interesting. A strange, popular leader — a leader
purely by virtue of intellect; colourless, humourless, uncom-
promising and detached, without picturesque idiosyncrasies
— but with the power of explaining profound ideas in simple
terms, of analysing a concrete situation."

" We shall offer," says Lenin, " peace to the peoples of
all the belligerent countries upon the basis of the Soviet terms
— no annexations, no indemnities, and the right of self-
determination of peoples."

We who were left behind made for the Tsarskoye Selo
station. L^p the Xevsky, as we passed. Red Guards were
marching, all armed, some with bayonets, some without. The
early twilight of winter was falling. Heads up, thev tramped
in the chill mud, irregular lines of four, without music, with-
out drums. A red tiag crudely lettered in gold, ' Peace !
Land!' floated over them. They were very young. The
expression on their faces was that of men who know they are
going to die. . . Half fearful, half contemptuous, the crowds
on the sidewalk watched them pass, in hateful silence. . ."

So to the flight of Kerensky " alone, ' disguised in the
uniform of a sailor ' ", to the " Conquest of Power " and the
historic Peasants' Congress, and to the proud, victorious
words of Trotzky, " A new humanity will be born of this
war. . . In this hall we swear to workers of all lands to remain

CLOSE UP -

at our revolutionary post. If we are broken, then it will be
in defending- our flag. . ."

Those who cannot see Ten Days can read it, and judge for
themselves the great qualities of the book and the colossal
achievement of the Russian cinema.

Ten "Days that Shook^the World

by JOHN REED
2/- paper, post free 2/3

A vivid pen-picture of the November revolution in Russia as witnessed by that
brilliant young American journalist and author, the late John Reed.

On this book is based the Russian film of the same title lo Tage die die Welt
Erschiitterten directed by Eisenstein for Sovkino in 1927, stills of which appeared
in the June and July issues of Close Up.

More than being 'the book of the film' however, it may be described as the key
to all Russian films, for it enables the reader to grasp the powerful influences that
inspire these dynamic masterpieces of the screen, and, in addition, all modern
Russian literature.

Copies may he obtained at all booksellers or from the publishers —

MODERN BOOKS LTD.

26 BEDFORD ROW, LONDON, W.C.l

The Avenue Pavilion

101 Shaftesbury Avenue, W.l

A GAUMONT-BRITISH THEATRE
The Home of International Film Art.

Managing Director - Reginald C. Bromhead. Manager - Leslie Ogilvie.
Director of Music - ARTHUR DULAY.

The following attractions will be presented exclusive to this theatre :

Premier Presentation —

TARTU FFE

From the story by Moliere. " He who sins in secret does not sin at all."
Directed by F. W. Mumau. Photographed by Carl Freund. Featuring Emil Jannings,
Werner Krauss and Lil Dagover.

ALL FOR A WOMAN

A story of the French Revolution. An epitome of what has been characterised as "the most
dramatic hour of history. Directed by Dimitri Buchowetski. Featuring Emil Jannings, and

Werner Krauss.

KEAN

From the play by Alexandre Dumas, and the authentic documents of the period.
Directed by M. A. Volkoff. Featuring Ivan Mosjoukine.

KOENIGSMARK

From the novel by Pierre Benoit. A modem story of an historic and mysterious assassination.
Directed by Leonce Perret. Featuring Huguette Duflos, of the Comedie Francaise.

Premier Presentation —

. HE WHO COVETS

A story of Russia,, the Bolshevic risings, and Revolution.
Directed by Robert Dinesen. Featuring Olga Tschechowa, Paul Hartmann & Robert Dinesen.

CINDERELLA

The most perfect film production of a famous legend.
Directed by Lud wig Berger. Featuring Mady Christians, Helga Thomas, Paul Hartmann,
- . - '. and Freda Richard.

BERLIN

- The S>Tnphony of a Great City.
Directed by Walter Ruttmann. Scenario by Carl Meyer. Photographed by Carl Freund.
A picture without plot, without sub-titles, wdthout sex appeal, hut contains more humanity,
more drama, and more beauty than you will find in 50 ordinary films.

WOMAN OF PARIS

A story of everyday lif€, as lived by everyday people. Charles Chaplin's first serious contribu-
tion to the photoplay world.
Directed by Charles ChapUn. Featuring Adolphe Menjou & Edna Purviance.

News, Star, and Standard.
Continuous Performances DAILY, commencing at 2 p.m. till 11 p.m. SUNDAYS 6 — 11
Each session lasts three hours, thereby making 3 sessions per day, viz : —

2 till S S till 8 8 till II

MATINEES recommended for comfortable choice of seats.

THE DIAL

A MONTHLY MAGAZINE
OF ART AND LITERATURE

FOUNDED 1880

EDITOR : MARIANNE MOORE

BY FRANCIS F. BROWNE

ADVISER : SCOFIELD THAYER

^mong recent contributors are

W. C. BLUM
KENNETH BURKE
E. E. CUMMINGS
H. D.

FRANK DOBSON

RALPH CHEEVER DUNNING

ROGER FRY

ALYSE GREGORY

GASTON LACHAISE

MARIE LAURENCIN

D. H. LARWENCE
THOMAS MANN
PAUL MORAND
RAYMOND MORTIMER
PABLO PICASSO
PAUL ROSENFELD
GERTRUDE STEIN
PAUL VALERY

WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

. . . often full of very interesting things, and is so well printed,
and makes for good all round,'* The Mask, July 1925

ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION FIVE DOLLARS
(Foreign postage 60 cents additional)

<tAd dress

152 WEST 13th STREET NEW YORK

A Young Society

NEOFILM

groups young producers under
the artistic and technical direction
of Alberto Cavalcanti who
directed the 3 first Neofilm
productions

RIEN QUE LES HEURES

EN RADE

YVETTE

ANDRE GIDE and MARC ALLEGRETS
Travel Picture

Voyage au Congo

is a Neofilm Production

" The best voice in a wilderness
of films''

That is what a New York motion picture man has said about The Film Spectator^
edited by Welford Beaton and published in Hollywood.

Now The Spectator is acclaimed by public and press and Mr. Beaton is referred to
as ** America's most discerning motion picture critic ". He tells the truth about
pictures and the people who make them 'v^-ith rare ability. Hundreds of heartening
letters of commendation have been received.

Here are some of the comments :

" Read The Spectator ? Of course ! Where else could I find the same spirit of
courage, conviction, and joyous contempt for consequences ?" — Samuel Hopkins
Adams.

" I read the Film Spectator with increasing interest. There is vigorous and
excellent writing in it." — H. L. Mencken.

" The Film Spectator reveals its editor as a writer of practically perfect English, and
as a man with an analytical mind, a sense of humour and a profound knowledge of the
screen." — Arthur D. Howden Smith.

*' I naturally receive many magazines — all deadhead, bye the way, except The Film
Spectator ! — but the latter is the only one of the lot I read, or have read, from cover to
cover. And that is not because I pay for it, either." — Stewart Edward White.

" The numbers sent me confirs Mr. Ralph Flint's suggestions to me that your
magazine is truly the best voice in the wilderness of films. Not only do I find your
judgments honest, but they are penetratingly just." — Symon Gould. Executive
Director, Film Arts Guild, New York.

" I find more sound sense in what you write about the present situation than in
anything that has ever been said or written about it." — ^JOHN W. RUMSEY. (President
American Play Co. Inc., New York.

" Welford Beaton is America's most discerning motion picture critic." — London
(England) Express.

" Welford Beaton ... a literate writer of motion picture criticism . . . his
opinion has been uniformly sound." — New York World.

Subscription for one year Ss-oo, foreign $6.00. Single copies free on request.*'

" THE FILM SPECTATOR," 7213 Sunset Blvd. Hollywood, Calif.

Please find enclosed % for yearly subscription to ** The Film Spectator,

Name

Address

LES EDITIONS

Pierre Braunberger

dans

vendent

monde

entier

films

les

meilleurs

Ave^-vous hesoin d'un conseil

ARTISTIQUE? TECHNIQUE?
COMMERCIAL ? FINANCIER ?

Nous vous mettrons en relation avec les meilleurs sp 'ecialistes
du monde cinematographique

53 Rue St. Roch 53

PARIS P

Telephone : Elysee 86-84

ha plus importante revue francaise

de Cinema

La Cinematograpkie
Francaise

CHAQUE SEMAINE TOUTES LES NOUVELLES DU CINEMA

Film, en Preparation
Analyses Jes Nouveaux Films
Ckronique Je L Exploitation

Ckronique Fmanciere

LES PROGRE5 DE LA TECHNIQUE
LES NOUVELLES INVENTIONS

U^uvelles AngleterrCy Amerique^ Allemagne, Espagne, Italie

DIRECTEUR RfiDACTEUR EN CHEF : P.-A. HARLfi
5 RUE SAULNIER PARIS (9")

Telephone : Provence 02. 13

BOOKS ABOUT THE
FILMS AND THE THEATRE

AND SOME OTHER GOOD BOOKS

You are invited to write for our Christmas Catalogue of Books, selected
and classified, which will be ready during the first week in December.

THIS FILM BUSINESS, by R. P. Messel. 125. 6d.

HERACLITUS, OR THE FUTURE OF FILMS, by Ernest Betts. 2s. 6d.

DER KOMMENDE i^JLM, by Guido Bagier. 21s.

MODERN PICTURE THEATRE ELECTRICAL EQUIP-
MENT AND PROJECTION, by R. V. Johnson. 155.

THE DE VELOPMENT OF THE THEATRE, by Allardyce NicoU. 42s.

MONUMENT A SENECA, monuments of the theatre, scenery,
decorations and costumes of the theatre and great festivals of

all time. £100 16s. Od.

THE ART OF PANTOMIME, an anatomy of expression, by

Charles Aubert. 15s.

STAGE DECORATION, by Sheldon Cheney. 42s.

CLOWNS AND PANTOMIMES, by M. Willson Disher. 42s.

THEATRE UND LICHTSPIELHAUSER, by Paul Zucker. 32s. 6d.

DAS RUSSISCHE THEATRE, by Gregor FUlop-Miller. 84s.

THEMEMOIRSOFA FOX-HUNTINGMAN,bySieginedSsiSsoon. 7s. 6d.

MONTROSE, by John Buchan, a biography. ^ 21s.

THE LIFE OF CHARLES M. DOUGHTY, author of Travels

in Arabia Deserta, by D. G. Hogarth. 18s.

THE ANGEL THAT TROUBLED THE WATERS, dialogues

by Thornton Wilder, author of The Bridge of San Luis Rey. 6s.

PETER PAN, by J. M. Barrie. 5s. and 7s. dd.

Thomas Hardy's last book of Poems, WINTER WORDS. 7s. 6d.

THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER, by A. A. Milne, illustrated by

Ernest Sheppard. 7s. 6d.

THE WEEK-END BOOK, an entirely new edition with two

hundred more pages. 6s.

JOHN & EDWARD BUMPU5 LTD.

Booksellers to His Majesty the King

55o OXFORD 5TREET, LONDON, W.i

Without Close Up you will not
remember all that you want to I

GIVE VOLUME THREE
FOR CHRISTMAS

"READY T)ECEMBER isth

A GOOD ADDITION TO YOUR
SHELF OF REFERENCE BOOKS

A GOOD GIFT FOR YOUR FRIENDS

Buy CLOSE UP Now for the Future !

Order Form

Please supply Close Up, Vol bound in I boar(r(cioth back)

Name

Address

Postal Order; . , , . /(Vellum 12/6)

Cheque I enclosed for ifgoards 10/-)

Postage on all volumes 6d, extra

Hand this form to your bookseller, or send direct to

POOL /^^^^^ Chateau, Territet, Switzerland
I24, Devonshire Street, London, W.C.i

WHEN

is a Movie IVIaker not a

Movie Maker

but still is a

Movie Maker

The answer to the above is : When he's merely a 'button-pusher\**
No doubt you know that a ^'button-pusher" is a person who takes
no pride in his films — one who will not read cinematic literature
because he thinks it's too dry. Well, lets leave him in that ecstasy

of bliss.

A real movie maker reads all the literature he can — and especially
does he read

THE CINS-MINIATURE

monthly monographs, because he knows that by doing so he learns how
to make movies of professional quality and brilliance.

What are you? A movie maker or a " button-pusher ? " If you are
a movie maker, you will prove it by either calling at your dealer's for
a single copy of the latest number at 25c ; or you will send $2.50
for a year's subscription to :

CINEMATOGRAPHIC PUBLISHERS

1630 CAPITOL BUILDING, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

iiiicoiiveiitioii(l,L

introduction

We are a new illustrated magazine written in English and published
in France who, rightly or wrongly, think we are unconventional. At
least we call ourselves that.

And our address is : Villa Bernard, Barbizon, Seine-et-Mame, France.

We should be glad to number you among our acquaintances. We
think that you would find pleasure and profit in cultivating ours.

Your Name . .

and Address

will bring you a sample copy.

Film Fur Alle

the first monthly publication
in Europe devoted to the
problems of purely amateur
cinematography

Editor :

Andor Kraszna-Krausz, Berlin
Publisher :

Wilhelm Knapp, Halle/Saale, Miihlweg 19

Subscription 2.25 R.M. quarterly
Specimen number free on request

If You Are
Interested
in
Motion
Pictures

You Are
Interested
in Qood
Photog^
raphy

CAMERA CRAFT

the beautiful monthly

Covers the Whole Field of Photography

Give yourself the monthly pleasure of reading this magazine.

As a gift it brings joy into the recipient's heart and is a
reminder, twelve times a year, of your thoughtfulness.

Camera Craft Publishing Company

703 MARKET STREET / SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

United States and Possessiom^2J)0^
Canada $2.25 f Other foreign Countries $2.50
Sample Copy on Request

Impressed by

THE MERCURY PRESS LTD.
LONDON ILFORD CHELMSFORD

Tel.: Central 5J16-7 Tel.: Ilford 2018-9 Tel.: Chelmsford 16

ENGLAND
1928

is the only film newspaper in
the world to deal exhaustively
with all technical problems
of film creation

It is entirely independent
of industrial influence

Editor : %
Andor Kraszna Krausz, Berlin ^

Publisher :

Wilhelm Knapp, Halle/Saale, Miihlweg 19

P Subscription 5.25 R.M. quarterly

P Specimen number free on request

Order in Time for Qhristmas

em5 o

f ooviet R

U55ia

hy BRYHER, author of Civilians, West, Development, Two Selves, etc., etc.

A dynamic survey of the world of the cinema, seen " through a yellow glass " —
a method employed to judge the photographic colour values of your scene.
The judgment is accurate, immediate and incredibly revealing. Here is
a complete mine of information not only for the student, the professional,
and the amateur, but' facts which everybody wants to know. From the tech-
nicalities of lenses and photography, to the generahties of how to ** get into the
movies," there is something for everyone to learn, and everyone to chuckle
over. Price 7s. Qd.

Why not give both or either of these books for
Christmas gifts ? They can be sent by us direct
in special gift boxes to any address at 14s. bd.
for the twoy or at the above prices respectively^
plus 6d, postage. Greeting cards can be en-

bv OSWELL BLAKESTON.

closed by arrangement.

Order from POOL direct in London or Switzerland
or from any of booksellers stocking CLOSE UP.

A? ^ * =

DOBBS BROS.

LIBRAAY BINDINa

¥r AUGUSTINE °^ .0 ^ O

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "Close up ... devoted to the art of films"

See other formats