CHAPTER XXII

TRICK PICTURES AND HOW THEY ARE PRODUCED

_V.--“Princess Nicotine” and her remarkable caprices_

“Princess Nicotine” ranks as one of the finest trick films ever made in

the United States, and was the handiwork of two producers who rank as

the leading American exponents of this strange craft--Messrs. J. Stuart

Blackton and Albert S. Smith. In its production, all the subterfuges

known to the cinematographic trick art were pressed into service,

rendering it completely mystifying from beginning to end.

Some years ago these two artists were responsible for a trick-film,

“The Haunted Hotel,” which was so puzzling and so cleverly worked out

that it was regarded as a masterpiece of cinematographic chicanery.

It was a prodigious success; some idea of its widespread popularity

may be gathered from the fact that over 150 copies of the subject were

disposed of in Europe alone, while its total sales were well over

400 copies; for its success in the land of its origin was quite as

marked as that which it scored in the Old World. For a long time it

ranked as the finest trick-film the United States had produced, and it

precipitated a “boom” in “haunted” subjects. The success of that film,

however, threatens to be surpassed by “Princess Nicotine,” which, in

addition to being a distinct novelty, is dainty in its conception,

fascinating in its theme, and finished in its production.

The story of the play may be briefly related. The scene opens with a

young bachelor reclining in an armchair at a table. Before him are

scattered the indispensable adjuncts to a bachelor’s comfort--a box of

cigars, a tobacco-box, a corncob pipe, a box of matches, a square white

bottle standing upon the cigar-box, a bottle of whisky and a syphon

of soda-water. In addition, there is a large, round reading-glass

with a handle. The bachelor fills his pipe, lights it, leans back and

dozes. Suddenly the lid of the tobacco-box is opened and a small fairy,

Princess Nicotine, jumps out and falls over the pipe, which arrests her

attention and gives her a brilliant idea. Laughingly she returns to the

tobacco-box and helps out a second and smaller sprite, whom she leads

to the pipe and unfolds her scheme. The fairies are no larger than the

man’s hand, and the contrast between their diminutive figures and the

bachelor is decidedly grotesque. At first sight one might think the two

tiny forms were dolls, but their movements are so graceful, steady, and

natural that this idea is quickly abandoned.

The two wee plotters pull out the tobacco, and the smaller fairy jumps

into the bowl and is buried beneath a layer of the shredded weed,

which is pushed in by Princess Nicotine, who afterwards hides in the

tobacco-box.

The bachelor wakes up, and after yawning turns to his pipe once more.

To his amazement the tobacco will not light, and he looks at it

closely. He starts in amazement and picks up the hand-magnifying glass

to examine the contents. He reveals what he sees to the public, for the

magnifying-glass is held up as it were before the spectators, who see

the elfish face of the fairy peeping from the tobacco and enveloped in

wreaths of smoke.

The startled bachelor then inverts the pipe and raps out the contents

in true smoker’s fashion upon the table, emptying the fairy in the

process. She struggles to her feet from the tobacco débris, and rushes

to the tobacco-box, into which she jumps, pulling the lid down after

her. Princess Nicotine thrusts her arm out of the box, which the

bachelor grasps, but instead of withdrawing the fairy, he seizes a

rose, which he proceeds to smell; but he is seized with a violent fit

of coughing caused by a cloud of smoke which issues from the flower. He

examines the rose through the magnifying glass, this view as it appears

to him being held before the audience as before, so that it sees the

form of the fairy embedded among the petals, smoking a cigarette. The

man drops the rose and rushes out of the room. The rose falls to pieces

gradually, the petals accumulating on the table and turning into a

cigar. The bachelor re-enters, picks up the cigar, lights it, the smoke

rises and whirls round rapidly, and presently rushes into the white

bottle. Startled at the extraordinary action of the smoke, the bachelor

picks up the bottle, examines it and sees the fairy imprisoned within

and vainly endeavouring to escape. The man breaks the bottle, and the

fairy is seen standing on the tobacco-box. She picks up a packet of

cigarettes, proffers one to the bachelor, and dances before him on the

table.

The bachelor commences to tease Princess Nicotine. He lights a match

and holds it towards her. She shrinks from it in fear, and in revenge

she approaches the match-box, extracts the matches, stacks them in a

pile, and lights them. The magnifying-glass is held up as before, and

the audience sees the pile of matches burning like a big bonfire. The

last scene shows the man, somewhat terrified at the blazing pile on

the table, picking up the soda-syphon and endeavouring to quench the

outbreak, at the same time deluging himself in the process.

Through the kindness of Messrs. Blackton and Smith I am able to explain

how this apparently miraculous picture is produced, and the various

tricks employed. In describing the “Little Milliner’s Dream” I have

shown how the appearance of a fairy can be produced, by placing the

performers fulfilling the _rôle_ at the very back of the stage, a

long distance from the camera, whereas the principal actor is caused

to carry through his part but a few feet away from the lens. The same

effect can be produced by the aid of a mirror placed at the back of the

scene; when the players fulfilling the _rôles_ of fairies enact their

parts on a stage placed beside the camera, the film records simply

their reflection in the mirror, and the impression of extremely small

stature is conveyed. By pressing the mirror into service a great saving

in stage space is gained.

[Illustration: FIG. 18.--HOW THE STAGE WAS SET FOR TAKING THE TRICK

FILM “PRINCESS NICOTINE.”]

Two stages are required for the effect: the set stage on which the

scene is built up, and on which the bachelor figures, and a temporary

stage placed beside the camera, whereon the fairies carry through their

parts. The diagram, Fig. 18, shows the setting of the stage. The mirror

is placed some distance behind the back-cloth of the stage scene,

immediately behind a curtained window, which is really an opening in

the back-cloth. As the action takes place at night all is darkness

outside the window. The lens is exactly flush with the top of the table

in the scene, so that when the reflections of the fairies are caught

they appear to be moving upon the top of the table. The mirror at the

back of the stage is so disposed as to appear to be the glass in the

window of the back-cloth behind the actor, and is arranged so skilfully

as to betray no evidence of its existence. The stage set up beside

the camera is of such dimensions that it keeps the actresses taking

the parts of the two fairies within the limits of the centre of the

table; while its floor is marked accurately for other purposes, which

will be described later. If the principle adopted for presenting the

diminutive players in “The Little Milliner’s Dream” had been followed

in this instance instead of using a mirror, the fairies would have had

to carry out their work at a point equal to twice the distance between

the camera and the mirror to present the same effect. It may be pointed

out, in passing, that during the whole play the actor fulfilling the

part of the bachelor sees nothing upon the table in front of him beyond

the articles placed there for his own comfort.

[Illustration: PRINCESS NICOTINE--A DAINTY TRICK FILM.

This subject, produced by the Vitagraph Company of America, has proved

to be one of the most popularly successful subjects of this description

seen during recent years.]

The _rôle_ of Princess Nicotine was fulfilled by an actress of average

height, while her companion was a little girl of about twelve years

of age. In addition, certain properties were required, all of which

were enlarged facsimiles of objects in daily use. These comprised a

cigar-box of huge dimensions capable of permitting the fairies to stand

up-right within it; a huge corn-cob pipe, the bowl of which was as big

as a barrel; a property match-box containing matches measuring about

thirty inches in length, with paper rolled round one end to convey the

impression of phosphorus heads; a property packet of cigarettes

nearly six feet in height, containing cigarettes thirty-six inches

long formed of rolls of paper stuffed with straw, and more straw to

represent the tobacco. These properties had to be prepared carefully

to scale, while the actresses themselves had to be accomplished

performers. The play demanded searching rehearsals, as in a trick

picture of this character the slightest slip in the acting destroys the

illusion.

[Illustration: The fairy, buried in the heart of the rose, smoking a

cigarette. The blossom is a large paper property flower.]

[Illustration: PRINCESS NICOTINE.

The diminutive form of the fairy on the table. The bachelor, although

astonished, in reality sees nothing.]

The properties were used on the second stage beside the camera

operator, and when reflected in the mirror they appeared no larger

than the smoker’s companions lying upon the table. Behind the fairies’

stage a back-cloth of black canvas was stretched, so that all their

movements were against a black background, and this served to sustain

the impression of darkness behind the back-cloth window of the scene,

beyond the window in which the mirror was placed.

In addition to these properties stage hands were required at various

intervals to complete certain operations, but were concealed out of the

sight of the lens of the camera. Their tasks also will be described in

due course.

In the opening scene the bachelor uses his own materials lying upon

the table. The camera stops, and in the interval their place is taken

by the properties, which are placed upon the second stage to produce

a reflection in the mirror. When the fairy appears to jump out of the

bachelor’s cigar-box on the table she actually steps from the property

cigar-box on the second stage, the lid of which is opened by means of

a thread pulled by a stage hand concealed behind. The antics of the

fairies, which appear to take place on the table before the bachelor,

are carried out upon the second stage, beside the camera, the smaller

fairy climbing into the property pipe.

When the bachelor wakes up and tries to light his pipe the fairy stage

properties are removed from the fairy stage, and those of the bachelor

replaced upon the table. Accordingly, the audience see him vainly

endeavouring to light his own pipe, which finally he examines with the

magnifying-glass. When the scene revealed to the smoker is flashed

to the public on the screen in such a way that the audience appear to

be looking through the magnifying-glass, they are not looking at the

bachelor’s pipe, but at the property one. To produce the effect of

magnification the second stage is photographed directly from a short

distance instead of by means of the reflection in the mirror. The smoke

curling lazily about the smaller fairy and issuing from the pipe is

produced by steam, there being a tube carried beneath the table and

connected to the bottom of the bowl of the property pipe.

When the scene is flashed back once more, and the bachelor is again

seen seated at his table, photographing is resumed of the mirror’s

reflected image.

The second stage is cleared again, and we see the man empty the

ashes of his pipe upon the table. The débris containing the fairy is

again thrown upon the screen in an enlarged form, as if through the

magnifying-glass; that is to say, the second stage and its properties

are being photographed once more to show the little lady laughing and

running among the smoking, half-burnt tobacco. The tobacco is straw and

the smoke is steam.

The scene reverts to the table showing the man. By reflection the

fairy is observed to jump into her property cigar-box, leaving an arm

protruding. This is a property arm built to scale in the same manner as

all the other properties used on the fairies’ stage, and when the man

seizes it, in reality he grasps the stem of a paper property rose of

natural size protruding from the cigar-box standing on his own table.

He turns the rose over to smell it, but beneath the table is a stage

hand, who puffs a stream of smoke through a flexible pipe connected to

the stalk of the rose which the bachelor is holding; the smoke provokes

a fit of sneezing and coughing, and the bachelor has recourse to his

magnifying-glass to examine the rose. Again the second stage is brought

into play, a large property rose lying thereon, revealing the head of

the fairy within smoking a cigarette.

Every time the audience is permitted, as it were, to see what the

bachelor discovers beneath his magnifying-glass the second stage is

photographed direct, the camera being placed about eight feet away.

The fact that the properties used are of large dimensions does not

strike the public, as they put themselves in the position of the

bachelor at the table and look through the magnifying-glass at the

articles lying upon the table, which naturally would undergo tremendous

magnification. This “flashing” to and fro, as it is called, is so

cleverly accomplished that the public does not realise the fact that it

is being deceived. Everything that the bachelor handles on the table

is of natural size; every duplicate article which the audience sees

through the magnifying-glass belongs to the large-sized properties upon

the second stage.

In the next scene the bachelor is seen to drop his rose and flee from

the room. The rose instantly falls gradually to pieces, petal by petal,

each of which runs across the table to roll into and form a cigar.

To produce this effect recourse has to be made to the “one turn one

picture” movement described in the previous chapter. Each petal is

displaced by hand and moved a slight distance by the stage-manager

between each exposure. This destruction of the rose and fabrication

of the cigar from the petals occupies hours, but it passes across the

screen in the course of a few seconds.

When this strange act is completed, and while the camera is not

working, a real cigar is substituted on the table for that apparently

made from the rose. When the bachelor returns he picks it up and

lights it. Thenceforward various tricks, the principle of all of which

has been described already, are practised in rapid succession. For

instance, the bachelor as he puffs the smoke into the air is astonished

to see it whirling rapidly, instead of curling slowly in the usual

way. The film is manipulated to produce this effect, as explained in

Chapter XX. The actor retains a fixed position, puffing while the

operator runs a few feet of film to record the smoke. After development

several images on the film--perhaps fifty per cent. of the movement

obtained--are cut out, and thereby the smoke is accelerated in its

motion so as to become a whirl upon the positive.

While smoking the bachelor is somewhat astonished to see the smoke

disobey natural laws by rushing into the square bottle beside him. This

illusion is produced by reversal of motion. The operator placed the cap

upon the lens and ran the film forward a certain distance, observing

the length of its travel on the measuring device. The camera action

was reversed, and the film run backwards the length of the unexposed

section. The smoke in the bottle was supplied from beneath the table,

there being a hole in the base connected to a pipe, through which steam

was driven. Naturally the steam flows from the mouth of the bottle, but

by turning the film backwards the smoke is made to appear to rush into

the bottle. When this incident has been recorded the lens is capped,

the film run forward the distance it was reversed, and everything is

ready for the next episode.

The bachelor, somewhat puzzled by the behaviour of the smoke, picks

up the bottle and looks at it. To his astonishment he sees the

fairy within dancing and endeavouring to escape. He picks up his

magnifying-glass and examines it closely, and the bottle containing the

girl, as seen through the glass, is seen by the audience. The illusion

is produced by double exposure, a process fully described already. The

bottle was stood against a dark background and photographed. Then the

reflected image of the fairy was photographed upon the same film. The

stage upon which she acted was marked out, and she had to keep within

these limits while making her assumed efforts to escape. Thus the whole

of her movements are brought within the area of the image of the bottle

already secured upon the film, so that when the latter is developed she

appears to be imprisoned within the bottle. If she should step outside

the limits during this incident, the reflection would be shown outside

the bottle and the illusion would be lost.

[Illustration: The fairy imprisoned in the bottle. This effect is

obtained by double exposure.]

[Illustration: PRINCESS NICOTINE.

The fairy, after coquetting with the bachelor, is driven away by the

smoke from his cigarette. The smoke effect is produced with steam.]

The man breaks the bottle with a hammer, and the released fairy is seen

standing upon the cigar-box. The “stop motion” has been requisitioned

to produce this effect, the camera being stopped when the bottle is

broken to enable the fairy to assume her position upon the property

cigar-box on the second stage, the box and bottle on the table in the

meantime having been removed. Gratified at her release, the fairy

stoops down and draws out a packet of cigarettes--the property package

concealed behind her property cigar-box on the second stage--and

withdrawing one of the cigarettes she offers it to the bachelor.

Although the cigarette she holds is three feet long, the reflection in

the mirror representing her standing apparently on the table, brings

the cigarette down to the natural size. The bachelor holds out his hand

to receive it, and at this point the “stop” is called to enable the

bachelor to place a real cigarette in the position of the property one,

the stage-manager informing the actor when the real article covers the

reflection, because the actor himself can see nothing. The property

cigarette is withdrawn, and the camera resumes. The bachelor places the

cigarette in his mouth, and as the audience cannot detect the “stop” it

appears as if he had taken the cigarette from the fairy.

[Illustration: Enraged, the fairy proceeds to build a bonfire with

matches. The property matches are used for this purpose.]

[Illustration: PRINCESS NICOTINE.

The fairy, her accomplice, and properties, which are enlarged

reproductions of the actual articles.]

The smoker lights the cigarette and takes a fiendish delight in blowing

the smoke at his diminutive companion, meanwhile coquetting with her.

The little lady resents the smoke; and as the bachelor again takes up

the magnifying-glass the public apparently looks through it at her

plight. The fairy is surrounded with cigarette smoke, coughing and

sneezing and shaking her fist furiously at the bachelor, who is out of

the picture, because in this instance, as before, the actual scene is

photographed direct, and not its reflection in the mirror.

The magnifying-glass is laid down and the audience sees the bachelor

strike a match, from which his tiny visitor shrinks in fear. The man

laughs heartily at her discomfiture. The fairy is bent upon revenge,

and steals stealthily towards the match-box. The bachelor follows the

fairy’s operations through the magnifying-glass, and the scene is

flashed to the spectators. They see the infuriated fairy tearing out

the matches and stacking them into a pile. Of course she is handling

the property matches, which, as I have already said, are good-sized

sticks. She strikes a match and fires the pile upon her stage.

The scene is flashed back to the table, but in the meantime the real

matches have been taken out of the smoker’s box and arranged in a pile,

which is burning upon the table, so that they appear to have been

fired by the fairy. The bachelor picks up the syphon of soda-water and

directs a stream upon the burning mass of matches. A final glimpse of

the fairy is given through the magnifying-glass as a stream of water,

this time from a hose, plays upon the blazing property pile, and she

falls over and disappears.

The preparation of a film of this character involves the utmost care in

stage management, so that there may be no disconcerting interruptions

in the continuity of the action. The greatest difficulty is to obtain

exact overlapping of the reflected and the real articles upon the

bachelor’s table; moreover, as the actor cannot see anything, but has

to act to an imaginary diminutive person on the table, his every action

has to be guided by the producer. The actresses must be faultless in

their movements. A film of this description requires days to prepare,

especially since it entails resort almost to every subterfuge known to

trick cinematography.

It will be observed that the work resolves itself into two essential

parts--the photographing of the bachelor in his sitting-room when in

company with the fairies, as shown by the mirror reflections, and the

photographing of the fairies and their properties. Whenever the latter

have to be taken, the idea of looking through the magnifying-glass is

adopted, and is artfully conveyed by the circular mask of the picture.

The magnification explains the apparently abnormal proportions of the

articles used; but the public do not realise them as properties because

they have been watching the little ladies on the table. Naturally, when

the magnifying-glass is turned upon them, the audience thinks that

the fairies and their attributes have been enlarged proportionately,

whereas, as a matter of fact, they are not enlarged at all, but are

photographed direct from a distance of only a few feet. In such a film

as this the producer, having sketched out the work and arranged the

scenes, photographs all the incidents pertaining to the reflection one

after the other, and subsequently photographs the views apparently

taken through the magnifying-glass upon either the same or another

stage. The trick effects, such as the conversion of the rose into the

cigar and so forth, are taken at other times. When the numerous strips

of film are developed the various sections are sorted out and placed in

rotation, to be connected up to form one continuous subject showing the

natural progress of the play.

Such is the story of the production of one of the prettiest and

apparently most miraculous trick-films that has ever been seen. It

should be said that such charming and mystifying productions as

“Princess Nicotine” appear only at very long intervals, but their

rarity is compensated fully by their fascination and novelty, which,

it may be pointed out, is a salient feature of the productions of the

Vitagraph Company in this particular field.

CHAPTER XXIII

TRICK PICTURES AND HOW THEY ARE PRODUCED

_VI.--Some Unusual and Novel Effects_

At times a trick picture cannot possibly be produced by any of the

methods I have so far described. Accordingly, the producer has to

rely upon his own ingenuity and inventiveness to cope with an unusual

situation or effect.

Some years ago an extraordinary film was produced by Mr. James

Williamson which created no little astonishment. It was entitled “A Big

Swallow,” and was decidedly startling in its effect. It depicted a man

to whom the sight of a cinematographer acted as a red rag to a bull.

On this occasion he was goaded to such desperation that he advanced

towards the camera with open mouth. Upon reaching it he gave a terrific

bite, and swallowed the whole apparatus and operator, the final scenes

showing him retracing his footsteps apparently enjoying his strange

meal, and satisfied that he had disposed of one cinematographic fiend

at least.

Curiously enough, although the idea adopted in this instance offers

illimitable possibilities, it apparently has never been exploited

since. This particular film never failed to arouse the enthusiasm of

the public, and there was considerable speculation upon all sides as

to how it was carried out. Through the courtesy of Mr. Williamson I am

enabled to unravel the mystery.

It is well known by amateur photographers that when a person is

focussed a certain distance from the camera, if he steps towards the

instrument the focus is immediately upset. When the individual is

taken in motion, and in such a way that he comes right up to the lens,

this difficulty is enhanced. It is impossible to keep adjusting the

focus of a cinematograph camera while the subject is advancing, because

the focussing tube is obstructed by the passing of the film through the

gate.

Accordingly, Mr. Williamson resorted to a combination of the

cinematograph with the racking bellows of the ordinary camera.

The latter, of special design, was attached to the front of the

cinematograph instrument, the bellows attachment carrying the lens. The

camera was set up, and the distance between the apparatus and the actor

was measured and marked off upon the ground. Observations were made to

ascertain at what points the actor in advancing should be re-focussed,

and these points were indicated upon the ground. The camera bellows was

then racked out until the figure was focussed sharply once more, and

this point was indicated upon the base-board of the bellows. The figure

then advanced still closer, until a similar result was observed, when

the bellows was racked out a little farther, focussed, and a second

mark was placed on the base-board corresponding to that on the ground.

The process was continued until the figure had advanced right up to the

camera.

The picture had to be taken under the “stop motion” principle.

At the word “Go!” the actor advanced to the first mark, where he

stood stock-still, while the camera bellows was racked to the point

indicating the correct focus. The second picture was taken under the

same conditions, and so on, until the actor’s face almost touched the

lens of the outstretched bellows. In the first photo the actor was

seen at full length, with the lens set in a horizontal line with his

mouth. As he approached the camera, less and less of the lower part of

his body was to be seen in each successive picture. Presently only his

head was recorded; then nothing but the open mouth and teeth; and at

last, when he almost touched the lens, nothing but a black cavity was

revealed upon the film.

The actual swallowing operation had now to be carried out. For this

purpose a large window opening into a darkened room was required. The

window was covered with dead-black material, leaving only the opening.

The camera was set upon a stage, and the window cavity focussed in

such a way that the opening occupied the whole of the picture. On the

inside of the building a thick mattress was placed with stage hands in

readiness. The camera and operator were set up before this cavity as if

photographing the approaching irate individual, and were photographed

by a second camera. This was intended to represent the former scene

from the moment where the man’s mouth only was visible upon the picture

in the form of a black space, and for which the opened window sufficed.

At the critical moment the camera was pushed gently over through the

window opening, and immediately afterwards the operator dived into

the chasm, the last sign of him being his upturned feet as he fell

downwards head first into the interior through the window, to alight

upon the mattress placed below to receive him.

When he had disappeared in this manner the third scene had to be taken.

This represented the actor stepping back from the camera after he had

devoured his antagonist. When he retreated to the mark on the ground

nearest to the camera, the bellows was racked in to its corresponding

mark on the base; then the second backward step was made by the actor

to the next mark on the ground while the bellows was racked back to

the next mark, this succession of stop-motions being in the reverse

direction to the advance. As the actor retreated, his teeth were seen

to close with a snap, and the look on his face as it came into view

revealed intense satisfaction with his strange feast. Retreat was

carried out in this series of steps until the actor had regained his

original position.

In this film the difficulty of keeping an advancing and retreating

figure in focus was solved very ingeniously; and when the pictures were

projected upon the screen the illusion was perfect, not the slightest

sign of a stop between the exposures being detected. As a matter of

fact, the advance and retreat series of pictures were produced at

one time, the disappearance of the camera and operator being taken

later; and upon the development of the negatives, the last episode was

introduced between the other two at the correct point. As the area of

the open mouth when close to the lens more than covered the sensitised

picture, the opening in the blackened window as it appeared upon

the screen gave no intimation as to the manner in which an ordinary

individual contrived to swallow a camera, tripod, and operator at one

gulp.

During a recent General Election infinite amusement was provoked by

the display upon the public screens, which appear to have become an

inseparable feature of such political events, of a film depicting

“The Dissolution of the Government.” The dissolution was complete in

the fullest sense of the word. A picture--a conventional portrait--of

one of the members of the Cabinet was thrown upon the screen. Slowly

it was observed to undergo a strange and ludicrous transformation.

An eye slipped down into the collar, the chin fell away, the nose

was lengthened abnormally, and the forehead narrowed to nothing. The

conditions presented were the most extraordinary to conceive, and the

manner in which the features melted into oblivion leaving a transparent

surface, or only a series of indecipherable streaks, aroused

indescribable merriment in the crowd. It is certain that no “election”

film ever has proved such a diversion as this trick picture.

The idea was worked out by Mr. F. Percy Smith. Like many other displays

of cinematographic magic, its success was due to its simplicity. Every

amateur photographer in his earliest days has endeavoured to force the

drying of a glass plate after development by placing it before the

fire. Invariably the effort ends in disaster. The gelatine melts and

causes the emulsion to run all over the plate, producing grotesque

results.

In order to produce this bizarre film a primitive apparatus was

contrived, consisting of a small tank the back and front of which were

cut out to admit pieces of glass. This tank was filled with water

and placed upon an ordinary spirit stove. The cinematograph camera

was placed in front, and at the rear a powerful electric light was

arranged in such a manner that the illumination was diffused equally

over the rear glazed part of the tank. A transparency portrait of the

politician was then copied upon a small glass dry photographic plate,

developed and fixed. It was then suspended in the small tank between

the camera lens and the electric light, so that the illuminating

rays passed through it, throwing the features in the picture up

brilliantly. The water was heated by the spirit lamp beneath, the

rise in the temperature being followed closely with a thermometer;

and when the requisite degree of heat was obtained, the features upon

the transparent plate, owing to the melting of the gelatine emulsion,

commenced to slip and slide about over the glass surface, and were

caught in the act by the camera.

[Illustration: THE DISSOLUTION OF THE GOVERNMENT.

One of the most mystifying and amusing trick films ever produced.]

Although the process appears absurdly simple, considerable time had to

be expended upon the subject to secure the most grotesque results. One

portrait frequently had to be prepared and boiled in this manner six or

more times before a sufficiently ludicrous effect was secured. Owing

to the capriciousness of the gelatine emulsion, occasionally the whole

coating would slip bodily off its glass support. The temperature of

the water had to be judged to a nicety, and suitable arrangements had

to be made to prevent the boiling water from marring the photographic

effect upon the celluloid film by the interposition of bubbles. Our

illustration shows a member of the Government under photographic

dissolution in this manner. The treatment has almost infinite

possibilities, for no two plates are affected alike. This film appealed

to the American taste. After the British Government had been dissolved

in this manner, a second film had to be prepared, in response to the

demand from the United States, dealing with the dissolution of the

American Government at the time of the last Presidential Election, the

portraits subjected to this drastic and peculiar treatment being those

of members of the United States Cabinet. This film created just as

great hilarity in the United States as attended its exhibition in this

country.

[Illustration:

[_Copyright, C. Armstrong._

THE LATEST CRAZE IN TRICK CINEMATOGRAPHY.

Silhouettes with models.]

During the past two years the silhouette trick film has come to the

front owing to the novelty of the fundamental theme and the successful

combination of humour with mystery. We all know the old shadowgraph

play, wherein the actors carry through their parts behind a white sheet

before a powerful light, which casts their shadows upon the screen.

The idea is now applied to cinematography. One or two films of this

character made their appearance some time ago from foreign sources,

but it has been left to an English experimenter, Mr. C. Armstrong, to

reduce this ingenious trick subject to an exact science.

In an American attempt in this direction, living actors were used, but

the outcome was scarcely happy, inasmuch as the trick effects were very

limited, being confined mostly to weird contrasts in the sizes of the

figures thrown upon the screen, arising from the proximity of the actor

to the light. If he stood near the illuminant his stature was that of

an immense giant, while if he enacted his _rôle_ near the screen, his

shadow was just life-size. Mr. Armstrong has improved upon this method

by resorting to the use of models, constructed of flat material, with

jointed limbs, like dolls, in order to secure ludicrous poses and

situations and impossible statures.

Seeing that only silhouette figures are required, it seems a very

simple and easy matter to fashion the models and move them through

their parts to obtain the desired effect; but such is far from being

the case. Both preparation and manipulation demand unremitting care and

patience. It may be pointed out at once that exclusive use has to be

made of “the one turn one picture” movement, the models being shifted a

small fraction of an inch between each exposure. When one has a group

of figures to move in this manner, the work is exceedingly tedious,

weeks often being spent upon the production of a single film.

When Mr. Armstrong embarked upon this enterprise he concluded that the

work could be accomplished without any great effort, but he was soon

disillusioned. Moreover, he found, to his dismay, that in order to

produce really striking trick effects, combined with complex movements,

perfect in every detail, it was not only the construction of the

models which presented many difficulties and required great mechanical

skill, but that the most intricate part of the work, involving a vast

amount of patience and extremely delicate manipulation, proved to be

the actual taking of the negatives. Innumerable failures attended the

first attempts. It was only after months of practice, and after he had

devised numerous special accessories, that Mr. Armstrong gradually

brought his methods to perfection. The outcome of his perseverance was

seen at the Palace Theatre, London. The film was entitled “The Clown

and his Donkey,” and it provoked the audience to unrestrained mirth.

Such work not only demands the conception of a suitable subject,

its adaptation to technical requirements, and the preparation of

the negatives to express humour and produce movements portraying

distinct traits of character and temper; but, as I have said, the

construction of the models presents singular difficulty, in view of the

complexity of the movements. It is indispensable that the person who

takes the negatives should also construct the models, the mechanical

peculiarities of which must be understood to a nicety.

The supplementary devices necessitated by the work seem to be without

limit; and to overcome the constantly recurring technical obstacles, it

is essential that the operator should be endowed with quite exceptional

mechanical resourcefulness; otherwise he will be baulked time after

time. Frequently he will find himself faced with a difficulty,

successful extrication from which, without compromising the subject

upon which he is working, will tax his ingenuity to the last degree.

[Illustration:

[_Copyright, C. Armstrong._

THE POSSIBILITIES OF TRICK SILHOUETTE CINEMATOGRAPHY.

1.

A quaint advertisement film.

2.

Mr. Asquith in cartoon.

3.

A novel curtain idea.]

The most lucrative field for silhouette trick cinematography should lie

in its application to the production of animated advertisements and

caricatures; for the idea possesses the indispensable attribute of

novelty, which is the mainspring of commercial success.

[Illustration:

[_Copyright, R. W. Paul._

THE HUMAN BUTTERFLY: HOW ARE THE EFFECTS OBTAINED?

The search for novelty in trick cinematography is very keen. This

illustrates a new idea which so far has never been exploited. _See page

263._]

As for caricature, despite the promising look of the field, there are

certain practical obstacles to success: first, the time occupied in

production, and second, a hostility on the part of the theatres to

political films of a party character--an attitude easily explainable,

as it is the aim of such establishments to appeal to one and all.

We give a few illustrations showing, in caricature, Mr. Asquith

speaking. The various attitudes clearly show the wonderful

possibilities of silhouette trickery, and also demonstrate strikingly

what can be done by a skilful operator with finely executed models. The

ones in the illustration are made of metal.

In regard to advertising, the innovation is unquestionably of real

importance, and I am told that use has been made of it with conspicuous

success by a prominent European cigarette manufacturing company.

This concern acquired a film measuring 300 feet in length, which

figured continuously in the programmes of the picture palaces. It was

most ingeniously conceived and worked out, the actors being a large

burly figure endowed with a movable nose, which changed from snub to

aquiline, a baby boy, and a chimpanzee, all of which characters are

shown in the illustration. The movements were carried out with perfect

realism. The burly figure is at one side of the stage, while the words,

“The Best Cigarette is----” appears at the top of the picture.

The chimpanzee and the baby come forward from opposite sides, each

picks up a rod from the ground, by means of which the letters forming

the name of the firm are jerked up alternately. They then drop the

rods; a box comes flying along, and is caught by the monkey, who

tenders it to the baby. The latter takes out a cigarette, which he

throws across the stage straight into the burly figure’s mouth; he

then does a somersault across the monkey’s back, steps on to one of

the hands of the large figure, and after he is raised to the requisite

height, the baby produces a match and lights the cigarette. The burly

man puffs away, demonstrating his satisfaction with the quality of

the cigarette by facial contortions. In the meantime the baby has

descended, and the large figure having lowered the hand holding the

cigarette leisurely, the baby seizes it, and, placing it in his mouth,

sends forth a big puff of smoke.

The effect of this absolutely novel advertisement seems to have been

extraordinary in Germany. One company after another is being formed in

that country, systematising publicity in the picture halls, affiliating

a number of them under contracts involving sole rights for showing

advertising films on terms of payment according to the length of film

shown. The halls seem, naturally, to prefer humorous and trick films

to sober industrial subjects. Things seem to move more slowly in this

country. Many halls would no doubt welcome good trick advertising

films, which would yield them an additional substantial income, and at

the same time would amuse and mystify their audiences.

Finally, we would refer to the excellent purposes to which this

invention is being applied in the matter of announcement films, to

replace the conventional lantern slides. A typical subject of this

description, “Ta-Ta, Come Again,” is illustrated. The actors comprise a

baby elephant, a jackdaw, a chimpanzee, and a tiny monkey.

The elephant and jackdaw alternately draw letters from a box and throw

them into the air to form the title. The last letter, N, while being

slowly raised into position by the elephant, is snatched up by the

jackdaw, who flies away to set it in position. The tiny monkey then

appears, carrying an exclamation sign, which he balances on the tip of

one of his feet, and finally tosses into its place. He then steps on to

the tip of the elephant’s tail. The chimpanzee now advances, seizes the

elephant by the trunk, and pulls him sliding off the stage.

Silhouette trick films, the production of which has become the

speciality of this manufacturer, lend themselves to vast development.

I have seen some subjects produced by European and American firms

which represent possibly the high-water mark of this form of magic

cinematography. But the enterprise has one distinct disadvantage.

The preparation of the films is slow, and the process is unavoidably

expensive.

Novelty in trick cinematography, which is essential to popular success,

is difficult to hit upon. Some years ago Mr. Robert Paul experimented

with a new idea, the result of which is shown in the illustration. The

strange poses of the actor will occasion interest and speculation as

to how they were obtained. The camera, while the exposures were being

made, was revolved, the actor on the stage meanwhile maintaining his

feet. The resultant pictures conveyed the impression that the subject

photographed was rolling over and over, and flying through the air.

This idea does not appear to have been exploited, although it should

offer opportunities to produce some highly bewildering effects.

Time and cost are the most adverse factors in this ramification of

moving pictures. The market could absorb four times the number of trick

subjects that are produced at present, so long as they were comparable

with “The Little Milliner’s Dream” and “Princess Nicotine.” But their

popularity would not always compensate the producer for the time and

expense of the preparation. Under the present conditions governing the

manufacture of trick films, distinct arrangements and facilities must

be provided for their manufacture, so as not to disturb the routine

preparation of ordinary subjects. These are the main reasons why to-day

trick films worthy of classification in the first rank are so rarely

seen--the majority of so-called trick films are pure inanities. In

fact, the trick film of the highest order is in danger of extinction,

because for every trick film that is produced half a dozen ordinary

film plays can be placed on the market.

CHAPTER XXIV

ELECTRIC SPARK CINEMATOGRAPHY

Although we commonly think of the human senses as very acute, yet in

reality they possess many imperfections. For instance, our vision

is too slow to follow the excessively rapid and brief movements of

insects. Strive as one may, one cannot detect the flapping motion of a

fly’s wing, or follow the different methods of flying practised by the

dragon-fly and the bee. I have spoken early in this work of Marey’s

wonderful researches, which were spread over a prolonged period, and

carried out with the express object of extending our knowledge of

animal motion.

Marey’s experiments, however, were limited in their scope, as he soon

realised. The dry glass plate was not a convenient medium for recording

the impressions of rapid motion, while extreme difficulties were

encountered in connection with the illuminant and the exposure. These

drawbacks became baffling when it was attempted to record the movements

of insects. He endeavoured to solve the problem by concentrating a

pencil of brilliant sunlight upon a condenser, so as to secure such a

powerful luminous cone of light as to enable an exposure to be made in

1/42,000th of a second.

Marey wrestled with the task in a most determined manner, and his

efforts were supported by eminent physiologists in other countries;

but the obstacles were so formidable and the available resources so

limited that they could not arrive at any practical result. It has been

left to Monsieur Lucien Bull, the accomplished assistant director of

the Marey Institute, to overcome the difficulty. Through his courtesy

I am enabled to describe his fascinating researches, as well as the

peculiar and efficient apparatus he has evolved for the purpose. The

beautiful and highly interesting results he has achieved are shown in

the accompanying illustrations.

It was obvious at the outset that the familiar cinematograph camera and

its system of operation were unsuited to recording such excessively

rapid movements as take place in the oscillation of a fly’s wing.

Intermittent motion was quite out of the question. No device working on

this principle was capable of enabling one hundred exposures or more to

be made in the short space of one second. If it were attempted the film

would only be torn and twisted before it had moved twelve inches. In

its place continuous motion on the part of the film was imperative, and

finally this requisite was supplied in a decidedly novel manner.

The general characteristics of the apparatus conceived and fashioned

by Monsieur Bull may be gathered from the illustrations. As the usual

illuminants were unsuited to photography of extremely rapid motion,

recourse was had to the electric spark, which is of tremendous luminous

intensity. These sparks are generated at uniform intervals and as

rapidly as the exigencies of the experiment demand. In order to grasp

the details of the installation a vertical sectional diagram, Fig. 19,

is given, and by its means the design and operation of the apparatus

may be gathered.

[Illustration: FIG. 19.--DIAGRAM OF APPARATUS EMPLOYED BY M. LUCIEN

BULL TO PHOTOGRAPH INSECTS IN FLIGHT.]

Instead of the ordinary camera there is a cylindrical wheel _R_,

mounted rigidly upon a shaft supported on brackets at either end. The

flat rim of this wheel carries the sensitised film, which, as the wheel

is 13½ inches in diameter, is 42½ inches in length. This band is of the

standard width and is sufficiently long to receive fifty-four pictures

of the ordinary cinematographic dimensions during one revolution of

the wheel. As the pictures are only three-quarters of an inch in

depth, the deformation arising from the impression being made upon a

curved surface is so slight as to be unworthy of consideration. The

arrangement adopted has the advantage of enabling the wheel to be

rotated very rapidly, so that consecutive pictures may be taken at very

brief intervals of time.

As the work is carried out in the laboratory in full daylight, the

wheel carrying the ribbon of sensitised film is enclosed in an

octagonal light-tight box _B_, the upper half of which is hinged so

that when the box is dismounted and taken into the dark-room it can

be opened easily to permit the exposed film to be withdrawn and a new

strip inserted.

The shaft upon which the cylinder revolves is fitted with an

interrupter _I_, whereby the primary circuit of the induction coil _A_

may be broken at regular intervals during the revolution of the wheel.

If desired, as many as 2,000 interruptions can be made in one second,

by rotating the wheel at a very high speed, if the necessities of the

experiment demand such a high number of exposures; each interruption

producing an electric spark in the spark gap _E_ placed behind the

condenser _C_. This condenser converges the luminous rays into the

objective _O_, which is mounted in front of the travelling sensitised

ribbon.

The lens is mounted in a small box _V_ attached to the front vertical

face of the octagonal box, the latter being pierced at this point to

permit the light to pass from the objective to the film behind. In this

lens box, between the back of the objective and the exposure aperture,

there is a mirror _M_, attached at its top to a horizontal rod having

a milled screw head. When the mirror is in the position shown in the

diagram, the image reflected therein through the lens is thrown on to

a ground-glass screen _D_, set in the top of the lens box. This serves

consequently as a view-finder. When the exposures are to be made the

screw controlling the mirror is turned, and this swings the mirror

upwards like a flap until it lies flat against the under side of the

ground-glass _D_, forming a light-tight joint.

The wheel carrying the sensitised film is driven by an electric

motor, the shaft of the wheel being extended beyond the box on one

side to carry a small grooved pulley, the drive from the motor being

transmitted through a small belt. The motor may be driven at varying

speeds, so that the number of exposures per second may be varied

according to the revolutions of the box completed in that period of

time.

The interrupter--also mounted outside the film-box--whereby the make

and break in the primary circuit of the induction coil is controlled,

and consequently the frequency of the spark between the points _E_

in the secondary coil circuit, is a disc of ebonite, into which are

compressed fifty-four strips of copper spaced equidistantly--each strip

corresponding to a picture on the film--which are pressed by two metal

brushes as in the commutator of the ordinary dynamo. As the copper

strips in the ebonite disc pass beneath these two brushes the electric

circuit of the induction coil is opened and closed, thereby producing

an electric spark in the secondary circuit of the coil. The intensity

of the spark is augmented by means of a small condenser _L_, which is

placed in parallel in the secondary circuit.

The sparks are produced between two pointed magnesium electrodes, less

than 1/12th of an inch in thickness, while the spark is about 1/25th

of an inch in length. The spark is very rich in the ultra-violet rays,

which possess a powerful photographic quality. In order that these

rays shall not be absorbed during their passage through the condensers

_C_, the latter are made of Iceland spar. To secure improved results,

a small condenser _c_ is sometimes placed immediately in front of the

spark-gap _E_. The general arrangement of the apparatus for operation

is shown on page 266, the whole being mounted upon a bench with the

induction coil upon a shelf beneath.

The photographs obtained in this manner, however, are purely of a

silhouette character, and often it is very difficult to interpret

correctly the movement of the wings of an insect from such a result. In

order to obviate this drawback, Monsieur Bull introduced a stereoscopic

system, wherein two lenses are mounted side by side before the film

box, with two spark-gaps in the same circuit. This enables two sparks

to be produced simultaneously with each interruption of the primary

circuit, to give two images of the object upon the sensitised celluloid

films.

In order that the two exposures should be made upon the films exactly

at the same time, a special type of shutter had to be evolved, whereby

the exposure apertures were opened simultaneously at the critical

moment when the cylinder commenced to revolve, and which closed in

concert when the rotation was completed, because, as the films were

travelling continuously, there was no necessity for an alternate

closing and opening shutter movement, as is required in ordinary

cinematography working upon the intermittent motion principle. The

interval between the sparks acts in the same manner as a shutter

swinging across the lens, and serves to secure a succession of

instantaneous pictures upon the films. The images are obtained in such

rapid succession that there is no possibility of the films becoming

fogged through the objective apertures being open the whole time the

wheel completes a revolution. The two sparks being in the same circuit,

they must be produced in absolute synchrony.

The crucial question was how to open and close the shutter

simultaneously at the critical moments. This was solved in an ingenious

manner. The shutter itself is made of brass and is placed close to the

film. There are two apertures, side by side, corresponding to the size

of the image upon the cinematograph film.

[Illustration: FIG. 20.--THE INGENIOUS STEREOSCOPIC SHUTTER TO THE BULL

CAMERA.]

The operation of the shutters is shown in Fig. 20. When the cylinder

is at rest, the exposure holes are closed by a single curtain _A_,

consisting of a thin sheet of steel of sufficient length to cover

the two holes. It is held in position by means of an electromagnet

controlling an extended spring. When the cylinder commences to revolve

the spring connected to the shutter is released under an electric

impulse discharged through the electromagnet. The shutter falls,

exposing the two apertures _f1_ and _f2_. When the cylinder has

completed its revolution, another electric impulse releases a second

steel curtain _B_, held in position by a second spring, controlled by

an electromagnet, so that it drops also and falls over the exposure

holes. This system is both simple and positive in its operation, and

it may be pointed out that this control is quite independent of the

interrupter, which works in conjunction with the electric spark.

The interval of time elapsing between each picture is determined by

means of a tuning fork making 50 double vibrations per second, which

operates an electric signal. This tuning fork is set up in such a

manner that the ends of its vibrating tongues are photographed upon the

film throughout the experiment. As the vibrations of the tuning fork

are known, it is only necessary, in order to determine the interval

of time between each exposure, to count the number of photographs

taken successively during a complete vibration of the tuning fork. As

a result of experiment, however, it has been found that the ear can

be trained to determine with astonishing accuracy the speed at which

the apparatus revolves--and consequently the number of pictures taken

per second--by the succession of sparks produced by a tuning fork the

vibrations of which are known. This means that in conjunction with the

photographic record, the speed at which the exposures were made can be

determined without effort, and this velocity can be varied very easily.

In addition, a measured scale, engraved on glass, is placed in the

field of the lens, whereby the investigator is enabled to determine

the exact displacement of the insect in the field of vision within a

given period. Such is the apparatus, devised so far back as 1904, with

which Monsieur Lucien Bull has accomplished some remarkable work of

incalculable value to science, and with striking precision.

[Illustration: M. LUCIEN BULL’S COMPLETE APPARATUS.]

[Illustration: THE NOVEL CAMERA SHOWING STEREOSCOPIC LENS.

Taking 2,000 moving pictures per second.--_See page 265._]

I will now proceed to explain how the photographs are taken. In

the first place, in order to obtain natural and conclusive data

regarding the flight of insects, it is imperative that they should be

cinematographed while in full liberty, but the point arose as to how to

control the instrument so that the camera and film did not commence to

revolve until the moment the insect entered the field of the lens. The

habits of insects vary greatly. Some fly off immediately they are

released, while others hesitate for a minute fraction of a second. As

the apparatus makes only one complete revolution at a time, and that

in the fraction of a second, the control has to be of such a finely

adjusted character that the record obtained is of movement purely and

simply, and not of the insect in a quiescent state preparatory to

flight.

[Illustration: A BEE CINEMATOGRAPHED IN FULL FLIGHT.

At the left is the glass tube from which it has escaped.--_See page

273._]

Another question was how to induce the insect to cross the field of

the lens. All insects instinctively fly towards a light. The apparatus

therefore was set near a window, the insect being released from the

side away from the window, so that in order to reach the light it had

to traverse the field of the lens. As the latter is very small, it was

essential that the release should be carried out in such a way that the

insect did not fly above or below the field of the lens during exposure

of the film.

At first sight these obstacles appeared insurmountable. It was

obvious that the release of a fly from the hand would be too slow and

uncertain, while the movement of the insect after securing its liberty

would be unnatural, because no matter how delicately it might be

handled, there would be the liability of injuring its fragile frame.

The governing point was to devise ways and means of opening the shutter

just at the moment the insect started to fly from one side of the lens

field to the other, under completely natural conditions.

This delicate problem was resolved by Monsieur Bull in an ingenious

manner, but not before he had carried out innumerable experiments

attended by dispiriting failures. At last he succeeded in evolving

means whereby the insect automatically and instantaneously opened the

shutter of the camera at the moment it started to fly. The artifices by

which this end was achieved are shown in Fig. 21. The system, however,

had to be modified for different types of insect. That marked _A_ was

used for the ordinary house-fly and for dragon flies. It comprised a

small pair of pincers, or clamp, which held the fly firmly captive by

means of a small electromagnet, but in such a way as not to inflict

the slightest injury. This clamp was introduced in the stereoscopic

shutter electrical circuit. The two legs of the clamp have a natural

tendency to fly apart under the action of a spring, but are held closed

by a tooth at the end of a rocking arm, mounted on one leg, engaging

with a fixed tooth on the second leg of the clamp. The latter is

placed in an electrical circuit with the shutter of the camera. When

all arrangements are completed, the experimenter closes this circuit.

This action causes the electromagnet of the clamp to pull down the

projecting end of the toothed arm; the two legs are allowed to fly

apart, liberating the insect, and as the clamp releases the fly the

stereoscopic shutter is opened.

[Illustration: FIG. 21.--THE INGENIOUS DEVICES EMPLOYED BY M. LUCIEN

BULL TO RELEASE THE INSECT AT THE CRITICAL MOMENT.]

This system, however, was of no avail in connection with the

_Hymenoptera_ group of insects, since wasps, bees, and similar insects

hesitate slightly before they seek safety in flight. Consequently the

device _B_ was evolved. This consists of a small glass tube, in which

the insect is introduced at one end. The opposite end is cut obliquely,

and is fitted with a very light hinged shutter of mica, having a

fragile spring, which covers about one-half of the opening. The spring

closes the electric circuit operating the stereoscopic shutter of the

camera.

Let us suppose a bee is to be cinematographed in flight. It is pushed

head foremost into the free end of the tube, which is large enough to

carry it comfortably, and the half-closed mouth is pointed towards the

window. The insect naturally endeavours to approach the light, and

accordingly crawls along the tube until at last it reaches the mica

shutter, beneath which it endeavours to escape. As it crawls out of the

tube it lifts the mica flap, and the circuit is broken. But the shutter

does not open, because at this moment the operator himself closes the

contact. By this time the insect has emerged a sufficient distance from

the tube to complete its final preparations preliminary to flying away.

Just as it springs from the tube the mica shutter falls, the electrical

circuit is closed once more, the shutter is opened, and pictures of the

bee on the wing are recorded upon the celluloid film.

For the _Coleoptera_ group of insects--beetles--where there is still

a more marked hesitation before flight, the device C was prepared. In

this instance Monsieur Bull compels the weight of the insect, which

is relatively heavy, to establish the necessary contact to operate

the shutter. A glass tube without an oblique mouth is used for this

purpose, and instead of the mica flap, a very light horizontal plate of

aluminium, balanced by a counterweight at one end, is passed through

the tube. This plate is mounted on a central pivot, and extends a

certain distance from either end of the tube. The counterweight is

slightly lighter than the weight of the insect, and rests in contact

with a platinum point. The beetle is introduced into the tube at this

end, and crawls along the rod towards the opposite end. When it has

passed about half-way through the tube, and has crossed the fulcrum of

the beam, it causes the contact end to rise like a see-saw, thereby

breaking the electrical contact. In this case, as with the device B,

the operator recloses the break in the circuit. The beetle continues

its journey, and finally emerges from the tube upon the flattened

end of the beam, on which it completes its arrangements to fly away.

Directly it leaves the platinum beam, the latter, under the action of

the counterweight, falls upon the platinum point, re-establishes the

contact, the circuit is closed, the shutter is opened, and the flight

is caught upon the sensitised band.

Monsieur Bull has devised a wide variety of these ingenious appliances,

whereby he is able to secure the flight of any insect, and by the

employment of which the chances of failure are reduced to the minimum.

Indeed, when the apparatus is set up correctly, is in the hands

of a skilled operator, and every arrangement has been completed

satisfactorily, failure can only result from one cause--the refusal

of the insect to fly away. The best results are obtained from insects

which are in a fresh, healthy condition. If they have been imprisoned

for too long a period, or are fatigued, the chances are that the

results will be very disappointing. The records which Monsieur Bull has

secured, showing insects in flight, illustrate some very interesting

facts, and are of far-reaching value from the scientific point of view.

At the present moment they are of additional interest owing to the

absorbing fascination of aviation, inasmuch as they enable us to study

with ease the movement of the wings of powerful, speedy fliers, which

hitherto has been impossible under natural conditions, owing to the

excessive velocity with which the wings move, and the brief character

of the motion. With such an apparatus as I have described, any very

rapid motion can be cinematographed, for the system is very elastic,

and capable of very extensive application.

[Illustration: A DRAGON-FLY IN FLIGHT.

At left is the electric clamp from which the insect has been released,

and at right the tuning fork to determine the interval of time between

successive pictures.]

Another vast field of research which has been opened by the

cinematograph is the study of the flight of projectiles. This subject

has occupied earnest attention among military authorities for some time

past. A few years ago Professor Vernon Boys carried out some wonderful

experiments in this direction, and produced some very striking results.

His work has been continued recently, by cinematographic means, by an

eminent German investigator, Dr. C. Cranz, professor at the Berlin

Military Academy. He has succeeded in accelerating the exposures of

the film to such a degree that 500 consecutive pictures can be taken

in 1/10th of a second, the exposures varying from 1/1,000,000th to

1/10,000,000th part of a second, the last-named period being such an

infinitesimal fraction of time as to be beyond human comprehension.

The pictures obtained are of the standard dimensions, and a striking

feature, despite the tremendous speed at which they are taken, and the

extremely brief exposure, is the clearness and definition obtained.

[Illustration: CINEMATOGRAPH FILM OF A BULLET FIRED THROUGH A SOAP

BUBBLE.

The flight of the missile may be followed easily. It will be seen

that the bubble breaks not when the bullet enters, but when it

emerges.--_See page 276._]

In this instance, also, the electric spark is called upon to serve as

the illuminant to enable the images to be recorded upon the sensitised

band, but the means whereby the interruption of the primary circuit of

the induction coil is secured differs materially from that practised by

Bull. Obviously the film travels with a continuous, instead of with an

intermittent, motion, the sensitised band in this instance being run

over two steel cylinders. The tremendous speed at which the film moves

may be gathered from the fact that, at the rate of exposures made, over

280 feet of film must pass before the exposure aperture in the short

space of one second--more than 2½ miles per minute.

The apparatus evolved by this German investigator is more complicated

than that of his French contemporary, and the method of operation is

widely dissimilar. The arrangements, too, for preventing the film

receiving more than one series of pictures--the film is rotated before

the exposure aperture in the form of an endless band--demanded a

special electrical contact control system, while the manipulation of

the apparatus varies according to the character of the experiment.

The results obtained are startling. Although taken at such a tremendous

speed, the pictures when thrown upon the screen under normal conditions

enable every motion to be followed quite easily because everything

moves slowly. For instance, one can see the hammer of an automatic

pistol fall, and follow exactly what takes place during the whole

firing operation, and the ejection of the spent cartridge. Similarly,

when the pistol is fired, and the bullet is photographed as it emerges

from the muzzle or when it strikes, passes through and emerges from a

steel plate, the movement can be followed with complete facility, as

it appears to move across the screen no more rapidly than a person

walks, because, although the exposures are made at the rate of 30,000

pictures per second, they are projected at a speed of only 16 pictures

per second. By this means analysis of extremely rapid motion in all its

details can be effected--a result of far-reaching possibilities to the

study of ballistics.

Facilities are provided to enable the progress of the missile, both

vertically and horizontally, to be measured, so that the speed of the

projectile may be determined with unimpeachable accuracy. Fluctuations

in the speed of a missile can be ascertained and investigated. Suppose

the speed of the projectile is measured as it emerges from the arm,

and again as it reaches the end of an extensive free trajectory;

losses in velocity due to resistance of the air and other causes

can be calculated. Individual pictures, when enlarged--and the

sharp, well-defined character of the images on the band enables this

enlargement to be carried out to a very wide limit--supply a ready

means to investigate any particular phase and phenomenon at close

quarters.

It is not generally known that about twelve years ago the British

Government set up such an installation at Devonport to investigate the

phenomena of bullets in flight. Here also illumination was carried

out by means of the electric spark, but the rate of exposures was

considerably slower. The results of the work of Monsieur Bull and

Professor Cranz, however, has opened up another and more wonderful

province for the cinematograph, and the investigation of rapid motion.

The efforts of these two scientists prove conclusively that motion

photography is capable of recording the most rapid movements known

with perfect success, although the circumstances may demand such

extraordinarily short exposure as the 10,000,000th part of a second.

CHAPTER XXV

THE “ANIMATED” NEWSPAPER

We have seen how the topical picture has developed into one of the most

attractive and extensively appreciated phases of the art. Events of

annual occurrence like the Derby or the Grand National, or those which

have been advertised widely on all sides, such as an aeroplane race,

are always anticipated with a keen curiosity.

At the same time, however, there are many incidents of daily occurrence

which are of absorbing passing interest, such as the launch of a

battleship, a railway collision, a big fire, or a public demonstration.

Such subjects are not adapted to presentation as individual films of

great length, being insufficiently momentous to grip the public for

several minutes in the same way as the International Yacht Race, or

some other dramatic item in our complex social and industrial life.

For some time occurrences like these were ignored. Sometimes weeks

slipped by without any public event being presented on the screen,

owing to lack of opportunity.

At this juncture one or two enterprising firms conceived a brilliant

idea of turning these events to interesting and profitable account.

Why not secure short lengths of film on various subjects of passing

interest, and join them together to form one film between 200 and 350

feet in length, to provide a regular weekly topical feature? These

little “topicals” were secured--a few feet of this, and a few feet of

that, subject depicting the most striking or interesting phases in each

news feature--and joined to form a continuous miscellaneous moving

mirror of the world’s happenings.

When the idea was first carried into execution the film could

scarcely be described as “topical.” There was no attempt to serve up

the pictures to the public in a “red-hot” condition. The incidents

portrayed in many instances had passed beyond the allotted nine days

of wonder, and having been almost forgotten, aroused but a flicker

of interest. The experiment recalled the days when newspapers first

resorted to photographic illustrations; when the pictures were

published often two or three days after the occurrence of the event to

which they referred.

Yet the results achieved sufficed to prove that a new and promising

field in cinematography had been tapped. Great possibilities awaited

enterprise and energy. All that was required was to supply the

pictures while the events were still fresh in the minds of the public.

Haphazard methods promised only failure; a special organisation was

essential to cope with the situation. In order to emphasise the motive

of the undertaking, the topical film, which presented in tabloid form

an assortment of news, was given a newspaper title; the animated

“Chronicle,” “Gazette,” and “Graphic” appeared; while to render the

newspaper idea more pronounced, the exteriors of the picture palaces

were emblazoned with placards drawn up in the most approved newspaper

style.

In the course of a few weeks, as the operators displayed keener

competition to outstrip rivals in securing the first pictorial

representation of something of importance, and the pictures assumed

a more and more up-to-date aspect, the moving picture newspaper

established its significance. Showmen were tempted to assist in the

enterprise by being able to purchase the newspaper film at a lower

price than the ordinary subject. Although the animated newspaper has

been amongst us for only a few months, yet it has already developed

into an institution. Many people would as soon think of missing the

“newspaper” item as they would think of overlooking an opportunity to

see the Derby re-run upon the screen.

From a cursory view no difficulty appears to be attached to the

preparation of a film of odds and ends of topical interest; but as

a matter of fact the task is quite as exacting and strenuous as the

production of the morning newspaper.

The work can be handled successfully only by a firm having an extensive

organisation, and with better chances of success if it has specialised

in the ordinary “topical.” There must be an editor to direct operations

and to prepare the film. He must possess a large and scattered staff,

so that no part of the world is left uncovered by a cinematograph.

His scouts must be active and keen, always on the alert, and ready to

secure on the instant a few feet of any incident of importance in their

respective localities. In the offices a number of skilled operators

must be ready to hurry off at a moment’s notice to any desired spot.

The first-named emissaries constitute the special foreign

correspondents, while the office staff feed the film in the same manner

that the newspaper staff reporters supply the columns of the morning

newspaper with material.

There is one feature in which the man with the camera holds an

undisputed advantage over his _confrère_ armed with notebook and

pencil. He gives a truthful pictorial account of what takes place, not

the garbled product of a vivid imagination. As a result the editor of

the animated picture newspaper is spared the menace which hangs always

over the head of the newspaper director. He is immune from the pains

and penalties of the libel law!

In order to secure a more intimate impression of the work of the

moving newspaper, we will go behind the scenes of one of the most

flourishing and successful of these animated news-sheets--_The Gaumont

Graphic_--and follow it through its successive phases of production.

When the proprietors of this pictorial record embarked upon this new

development, they had the experience of some twelve years’ work in

the “topical” field, and their machinery and staff had acquired the

instinct to “get there first.”

There is, of course, the editorial sanctum in which the presiding

genius holds autocratic sway, and directs the many threads which

control the acquisition of news. At his elbow the tape machine ticks

merrily the livelong day. The telegraphic ribbon reels out the bald

announcement that a big fire is raging in the City, that a devastating

explosion has spread death and ruin somewhere in the north of Scotland,

or that a Transatlantic liner has run on the rocks off some remote part

of the coast. An operator is rushed to the scene, and there left to his

own devices to secure a sensational few feet of film. He may succeed or

he may not; it all depends upon the circumstances and conditions. Maybe

he may have to wait four or five hours perched in an uncomfortable

position, but if a few feet of film can be exposed to advantage he will

not have failed.

The country is divided up into districts where cinematographic

reporters are retained in readiness for any emergency, and they have

command over a certain radius around that centre. For instance, if

an accident happens in northern Scotland a telegram to the operator

responsible for that locality hastens him to the spot. The editor of

the _Gaumont Graphic_ has branch offices at Newcastle--which covers the

north-east of England--at Glasgow for Scotland, and at Liverpool and

Manchester for the north-west of England, the Liverpool operators being

ready to proceed to Ireland or the Isle of Man should the necessity

arise. In addition, there are what might be described as sub-offices at

Bristol and Birmingham, whence any point in the Midlands and the west

of England can be gained, as well as another at Scarborough, so that

the whole of Great Britain may be said to be mapped out and covered

cinematographically.

As far as the foreign areas are concerned, owing to offices being

established in all the large centres from China to Peru, no difficulty

is experienced in gathering items of interest from all parts of the

world. Operators are searching constantly for films of general interest

from the industrial, commercial, scenic, travel, or some other point

of view, and in the course of their work secure pictorial snippets

of topical interest. As a result a steady stream of items recorded in

animation pour in constantly from all parts of the world. The European

and Asiatic items in the form of lengths of film pass to the French

headquarters in Paris, while those of Canadian and Australian interest

flow to London. A daily record of the films of a news interest received

from foreign correspondents is received from France for the London

editor to sift and select what he considers of interest. When this has

been done, he telegraphs to Paris for what he requires--so many feet of

this and so many feet of that film.

In addition, he has a tabulated statement of what may be described

as “fixed” functions, such as a race meeting, a motor competition,

a flying-machine test, a society wedding, and what not, to which

operators are dispatched.

In due course the small lengths of exposed film filter in by train and

post. So soon as they arrive they are developed and printed. Proofs are

handed over to the editor to be scanned and revised, sections which he

considers the most suitable and likely to interest the public being

snipped from each film-proof, by the aid of the indispensable scissors.

Possibly much of the material when it reaches the editor’s eye fails

to win his appreciation, and meets an inglorious and premature end in

the editorial waste-paper basket. A certain amount of wasted effort is

unavoidable; for space, that is to say, length of film, is limited,

and when the _Graphic_ appeared only once a week, sifting was of

a searching character. When a considerable amount of incident has

occurred and has been cinematographed during the week, the selection

process is by no means easy; many interesting items find themselves

crowded out to be held over until the next issue, or destroyed.

As the pieces of each film are selected, they are “pasted” together,

and each incident receives its full explanatory title and sub-title.

These revised proofs are connected up so as to form a continuous length

of film, and copies are reeled off in the printing, developing, and

drying rooms at tip-top speed, the operation corresponding with the

printing machine room of the newspaper. The first complete proof is

submitted to the editor’s approval by being projected on the screen

just as it will be submitted to the public. Further revision may be

requisite, in which event the film undergoes another trimming process

with the scissors, or possibly some late news has been received, and

space has to be found for its inclusion at the expense of some other

item.

The “composition,” or, as it is called, the “make-up,” of the animated

news film is just as complex as that of a newspaper or magazine. It is

essential that it should be diversified in its contents so as to appeal

to the tastes of all classes of the community. There are the big items

which stand pre-eminent, and which range from London to South America,

and from Paris to China. Around these have to be disposed various other

features of lesser importance.

Seeing that the length of the film newspaper is limited to between

500 and 650 feet, and is built up of from ten to seventeen subjects

which vary in length according to their respective importance, careful

discrimination is necessary. The public has become hypercritical in

regard to animated pictures, and the appeal has to be made to the great

majority. As a rule, endeavour is made to incorporate regular features

in each issue. Sport is represented by some one or other of the many

branches of athletics and racing; society finds itself displayed in a

wedding, garden-party, ball, or other fashionable function; the woman’s

page has its equivalent in the animated portrayal of the latest Paris

fashions as displayed by the manequins--generally in order to give an

enhanced effect this section is reproduced in colour--and so forth.

Effort is made also to incorporate, if possible, a special function of

some description performed by some personage looming prominently in the

public eye. Variety is the keynote of success as much in the successful

cinematograph newspaper as in its ink-and-paper contemporary.

The _Gaumont Graphic_ has an extensive and influential foreign and

colonial circulation, and accordingly special attention has to be

devoted to the requirements of these readers, or rather spectators.

The special topical films are ransacked, and little excerpts made. For

instance, in the Coronation number of the _Gaumont Graphic_, two or

three of the greatest features of the long Coronation film were cut out

and pasted together to form a prominent item of news; the same applies

to the inter-University boat race and other sports, the Derby and great

race meetings, the Football Final; in short, to every important annual

event. This procedure is necessary, for the animated newspaper reaches

remote parts of the world, where perchance the complete film of an

individual event may never find its way.

One noticeable feature is the friendliness extended to the

cinematographic news-gatherer, who often meets with greater

appreciation than his _confrère_, the Press snap-shotter. The latter,

armed with his small camera, often allows his zeal and enthusiasm to

overstep his discretion--a fact that is particularly noticeable with

regard to society and royal events. The cinematograph operator, on the

contrary, being burdened with a somewhat cumbrous apparatus, is forced

to remain at a fixed point. The apparent drawback is really a blessing

in disguise, because special care is invariably taken to afford him an

advantageous position. The outcome is that cinematographic portraiture

ninety-nine times out of a hundred is far better than that secured by

the snap-shotting fiend, who thrusts himself forward and catches his

quarry, perchance, in an unhappy moment.

Yet the editor of the film newspaper is not relieved from worries and

anxieties. Cinematography is dependent mainly upon a bright light; thus

the success of a film, at least in Great Britain, is never certain

beforehand. When the elements are adverse it is difficult indeed to

collect the news. The operator may wait for hours to film a subject,

or perhaps he makes his exposures in despair, and with a blind trust

in luck. When heavy fogs hang like blankets over the great centres,

passing events of importance defy recording, and it is a sheer waste of

film to endeavour to secure pictures. As a result the film newspaper

is much easier to produce in summer than in winter, and this climatic

influence probably constitutes a unique feature in newspaperdom.

The animated newspaper even has its stop-press feature; that is to

say, it can deal with pictorial records of events which occur after

the paper is being printed off or has been circulated. A short film

of some great incident trickles into the editorial room. It cannot

be delayed until the next issue--by that time public interest in the

item will have vanished. Consequently it is rushed through, and all

subscribers scattered throughout the country are advised by telegraph

that a record of such-and-such a topical subject has been obtained, and

can be dispatched at once for display in the form of supplement to the

animated newspaper now being shown. The late item is sent out, and upon

arrival at the picture palace is attached to the end of the newspaper

film already received, its inclusion perhaps necessitating sacrifice of

some other item of less importance.

When the _Gaumont Graphic_ first appeared, it was issued weekly, and

accordingly corresponded to the weekly illustrated newspaper. Now it

is published twice weekly, and with increased success. Indeed, the

pictorial news film reaches its subscribers in the colonies and foreign

countries contemporaneously, or even prior to the arrival of the

illustrated weeklies, which are dispatched by mail.

In Australasia, Canada, India, and the smaller British colonies, the

idea of giving the week’s news in animation has met with a remarkably

hearty reception, inasmuch as it serves to bring the world’s happenings

far more vividly before the public in those remote parts of the world

than can be done in a brief newspaper cablegram or a single photograph

published in the pages of the illustrated weeklies. The history of the

world is re-enacted before them; they are brought to the localities

where the episodes occurred--a miracle of transportation not to be

effected by any other known scientific means.

How does the film newspaper affect the cinematograph theatre? What

is the attitude towards the idea? Does the showman regard it with

favour? These are questions which naturally occur to the mind.

Opinion is best reflected by the success of the enterprise. Now that

the picture paper is published twice a week, the expenditure of the

showman is doubled; but this fact does not appear to have exercised a

deterrent influence. When the _Gaumont Graphic_ was published weekly,

its circulation approximated 200 copies per week. In other words, 200

showmen subscribed towards this feature. This, by the way does not

represent its full circulation, as a single subscriber may control two

or more halls in one city, and very often the one film suffices for

several picture palaces under one control. These 200 copies of the

film newspaper, then, were seen, at a modest computation, by several

millions of people weekly. Seeing that the subscriber is unable to

hire the film newspaper for the week, but has to purchase it outright

at a uniform price of 2½_d._ (5 cents) per foot, and that its average

length is 600 feet, his outlay amounts to £6 ($30) for a subject, the

exhibition life of which is restricted to three or seven days. As the

average showman is a keen and shrewd business man, it is not to be

supposed for a moment that the investment of such a sum every week is

otherwise than remunerative from his point of view.

Will the cinematographic newspaper ever supplant its printed rival?

By no means. It acts rather as an illustrated supplement to printed

details; it renders the latter more comprehensive by bringing scenes

and actors vividly and naturally before the eye, thereby causing a more

living and detailed impression than can be obtained through the medium

of words. On the other hand, it is beginning to rival the illustrated

paper, which depends upon photographic contents, and this competition

will be felt more keenly as time goes on.

The day is probably still far distant when a man, instead of giving a

penny for a printed daily newspaper to see what has happened during

the previous twenty-four hours, will spend the same sum to enter a

picture palace, and devote a quarter of an hour to seeing in full

animation what paper and ink merely describe. The modern business

man acknowledges that he only has time to glance through the staring

headlines of his morning newspaper; and surely comprehensive titles and

a series of excellent pictures would perform the same service for him,

and more besides. Producers would aid the development by giving careful

attention to titles and headlines.

Thus the era of the daily cinematographic newspaper is not so remote as

may be thought at first sight. The _Gaumont Graphic_ is quite ready to

appear daily if the demand should arise. The organisation is perfect

so far as the news-film collecting, printing, developing, and other

technical details are concerned. A complete paper could be turned out

in four hours. That is to say, films could be received up to about

ten o’clock at night, and the newspaper could be ready for projection

by two o’clock in the morning. The early special trains which now

leave the great cities at express speed for the delivery of printed

newspapers to remote parts of the country may yet be called upon to

carry small boxes of daily news-film for similar distribution. The

manufacturing cost of the film is being constantly reduced; and once

this essential is brought to a very low figure, enterprising showmen

will not hesitate to spend a few shillings per day to reproduce in

animation before the general public the chief episodes of the preceding

twenty-four hours.

CHAPTER XXVI

ANIMATION IN NATURAL COLOURS

The perfection attained in the projection of animation upon the screen

in black and white naturally stimulated efforts towards the achievement

of similar results in natural colours. As a matter of fact, experiments

in this direction were undertaken long before monochrome cinematography

was perfected. W. F. Greene indicated the development when he produced

his instrument in 1889; while as far back as 1897 Frederick E.

Ives, celebrated for his efforts to solve the problem of still-life

natural colour photography, outlined a means of applying his process

to cinematography with glass plates, the celluloid film not having

appeared at that date. No doubt he was urged to this development by the

wonderful results achieved in chronophotography with glass plates by

Dr. Marey in Paris.

Since that year experimenters without end have grappled with the

problem; but little material success has been achieved. Indeed,

commercial cinematography in the true colours of Nature appears to

be as far from realisation as a simple process of still-life colour

photography. Nature defies the photographic investigator to capture and

reproduce the myriad tints and hues in which she is garbed.

We see colour pictures upon the white screen, but with one or two

exceptions the tints are the result of the artist’s handiwork. An

ordinary black and white film is taken, and then coloured, in the same

way that the photographic artist tints his portraits. If the work is

skilfully performed the results are distinctly pleasing and effective.

After one has been watching brilliant black and white pictures, the

introduction of a coloured film comes as a restful interlude to the

eyes. The coloured cinematograph film was introduced by Robert Paul,

shortly after he established his studio. As lantern slides could be

coloured by hand with brush and paints, he saw no reason why a film 40

feet in length should not be treated in the same way. Accordingly he

enlisted the services of an expert artist to make the experiment. But

it was a laborious undertaking. A picture measuring only 1 inch wide by

¾ths of an inch in depth is a base of operations quite different from

a lantern slide measuring 3¼ inches square. A magnifying glass had to

be used, and a considerable length of time was needed to treat a whole

film.

One of the earliest colour effects to which the public were introduced

was a film produced by James Williamson, in the ’nineties of the

last century. It depicted a fire. The conflagration was enacted

realistically, an abandoned house being used for the purpose.

The flames and the entire scene were coloured, giving additional

sensationalism to the picture. At that time the coloured film was very

rarely seen, owing to the expense involved in its production, and when

Williamson put his handiwork on the market it received an extraordinary

reception. The lurid tinting of the flames caught the public fancy.

[Illustration: PREPARING THE PATHÉ COLOUR FILMS.

The colour system perfected by this famous French firm produces

beautiful effects.]

When the film measuring 400 feet or more came into vogue it was

recognised that hand colouring was no longer feasible. The method was

too slow and costly. Accordingly a stencil process was evolved, and is

in use to-day, giving many of the beautiful effects seen in the moving

picture theatres. A mechanical method of tinting the films by means of

these stencils was next taken in hand, and finally, after prolonged

experiment, was perfected. In this development the French firm of Pathé

Frères played the most prominent part, and to-day, despite the strides

made in natural colour cinematography, their productions still rank

first in popular estimation, owing to the delicacy of the colouring.

This Parisian firm has made the colour film a prominent feature of its

business, and laid down an extensive and well-equipped establishment

especially for colouring operations.

[Illustration: THE PATHÉ COLOUR MACHINE PRINTING ROOM.]

Probably everyone knows what a stencil is. It is a pattern cut out of

a solid thin flat surface, which is afterwards laid upon the subject

to be treated, and paint applied by means of a brush or some other

medium. The colouring only can reach the surface beneath the cut spaces

in the plate, and consequently is applied just where it is desired.

The process is practised freely in the printing of wall-papers, and in

applying designs to other surfaces, as it is both cheap, rapid, and

highly effective.

Cutting the stencils for a moving picture film is a long and exacting

task. Three stencils have to be prepared for each subject. In the

first the spaces corresponding to the red tones in the picture have

to be cut; in the second, those for the yellow; and in the third

stencil, those for the blue. By putting one over the other the various

mixtures and tones are obtained. The process may be likened to the

preparation of the three process blocks for heliochromic illustrations

in letterpress printing. Since each picture measures only 1 inch wide

by ¾ths of an inch in depth, we may gather some idea of the labour

involved for the treatment of, say, 8,000 pictures contained in a film

500 feet long. It follows that unless a film is likely to have a large

demand, colouring is not attempted. In one case which I have in mind,

the firm will not attempt colouring unless they are certain of the sale

of 200 copies of the subject. The colours--aniline dyes--are applied

successively by means of rollers, the film to be coloured being passed

through special machines contrived for the purpose.

In view of the expense and time entailed, it is not surprising that

many inventors have devoted their energies to devise ways and means of

taking colour pictures direct from Nature. Greene evolved the first

cinematographic process for taking and projecting moving pictures

in natural colours, and his patent constitutes the base upon which

all other experimenters have worked, just as to-day in America the

kinetoscope is regarded as the progenitor of the cinematograph. Six

months later another process working upon the same broad principle was

patented by Lee and Turner. But Greene’s process was premature; at that

time it was unworkable. The Lee and Turner system, fundamentally the

same, suffered from a similar defect, as I shall explain a little later.

Natural light is the result of waves oscillating at a tremendous speed

per second, just as other waves, heavier and travelling far more slowly

in comparison with light waves, produce sound. Our familiar conception

of natural light, or daylight, is that it is white; but we also know

that when a narrow beam is permitted to fall upon a length of glass

of triangular section, known as a prism, the light which on the outer

side appears white is found to be resolved into colours on the opposite

side. In passing through the prism the beam of light has been deflected

from a straight path, and the result is that the waves of varying

length, of which white light is composed, have been sorted out. The

shortest rays are red, while the longest rays have a violet tinge. The

analysis of light, as revealed by the spectrum in a dark chamber, is

performed for us by Nature in the rainbow.

If we examine that phenomenon we shall see that the innumerable tints

constituting it fall into three broad groups--red, green, and violet.

These therefore are regarded as the primary colours. By combining any

two, or all three, of these, the multitudinous hues with which we

are familiar may be produced. The average person, when he hears red,

green, and violet described as the primary colours, is inclined to

remonstrate. At school or when using his box of paints, he was taught

to regard yellow, red, and blue as the primary colours, and green, a

mixture of blue and yellow, as a secondary or complementary colour.

But the two instances deal with totally different forms of light.

The former is transmitted, and the second is reflected, light. This

confusion of thought led to the undoing of many early experimenters in

colour photography. They took their images through successive screens

of red, yellow, and blue, and when projecting used the complementary

coloured screens--orange, green, and violet. The results were

startling. It was not until Greene took his pictures through the red,

green, and violet screens, and subsequently projected them through

screens of the same colours--that is to say, the picture taken through

the green glass was projected through the green glass, the red through

the red, and the violet through the violet--that any tangible progress

was made.

When the celluloid film came into vogue the experimenters lost no time

in commercialising a system of natural-colour cinematography. The idea

was to take a picture through each successive screen. In other words,

the first picture was taken through the red screen; the film was jerked

forward, and the second picture was taken through the green screen;

lastly, a fresh area of sensitised surface was brought before the lens

and third or violet screen. Thus three consecutive pictures, taken

through three different screens, were secured. The screens comprised

sectors of red, green, and violet respectively, each colour screen

being succeeded by an opaque sector. Thus the shutter was divided into

six parts--three colour screens and three opaque sectors alternately.

After exposure through one screen, as the following opaque sector

flitted across the lens, the film was jerked into position to bring

a fresh surface of sensitised surface before the next screen in the

revolving shutter.

When the red screen is brought into position before the lens, the

colours in the object are filtered, as it were, only the red rays

being permitted to pass through the screen to the film. The picture

on the film, therefore, is a photograph of the red tones in the

subject. Similarly the green screen absorbs all but the green rays,

and photographs a record of the green tones in the subject. The same

is true of the violet screen. The developed film possesses no tinge

of colour in itself. It is merely a black-and-white image. Close

examination of three consecutive pictures, however, reveals varying

densities according to the filtering action of the respective screens.

In projecting, the picture taken through the red screen is thrown

through a red screen, the green image through a green screen, and

the violet though a violet screen. Thus the lantern reconstructs upon

the sheet what the camera dissects when photographing the object.

Experimenters anticipated that, in virtue of the law of visual

persistence, if these pictures were projected at a sufficient speed

upon the sheet, the three images taken through the red, green, and

violet screens would be superimposed one on the next, thereby conveying

to the eye a faithful colour record of Nature.

It sounds feasible and seems attractively simple to perform; but Nature

has not been caught yet.

At the very outset the investigators were baffled. The sensitised

emulsion on the film was too slow to render the application possible.

Every photographer knows that the red light is non-actinic--he uses

it for the illumination of his dark-room while developing his plates.

Obviously, therefore, it was hopeless to endeavour to take a photograph

through the red screen in 1/100th part of a second. For this reason

Greene’s process failed, as did also that of Lee and Turner.

Then another miscalculation was revealed. With black-and-white pictures

a speed of sixteen pictures is the minimum capable of conveying the

impression of continuous motion to the brain. As the pictures are in

monochrome, the perfection of the illusion is facilitated. But when

it came to projecting the pictures taken in three different colours,

one after the other, this law was seriously upset. When only sixteen

pictures per second are shown, the eye and brain are able to single

out the respective colours. The pictures do not run together to give

a natural colour-effect, but are merely successive flashes of red,

green, and violet light. Accordingly, the rate of projection had to be

increased three times at least--forty-eight pictures per second--and

the strain of this speed upon the film was so great that often it

succumbed.

Consequently, before colour-cinematography could advance beyond the

year 1899--when the first patent was filed by Greene--the chemist had

to be called in once more to accomplish a miracle and make possible

the dreams of inventors. The sensitised emulsion had to be speeded

up to such a degree that it was sensitive even to red light. By

this means the film is made “panchromatic,” as it is called; that is

to say, it becomes so sensitive that it will permit an exposure to

be made as rapidly through the red as through the green screen. But

“panchromatism” brought its own drawbacks. The film could no longer

be handled in the dark-room illumined with a ruby lamp, for fear of

becoming fogged.

It has not been found practicable to impart panchromatism to the film

at the time it is manufactured. I do not mean to say that it cannot be

done at that stage, but the demand for such a film is so small that it

is not worthy of present consideration on the part of the manufacturer.

Until colour-cinematography becomes generally practised, those engaged

in its exploitation will be compelled to render their film panchromatic

preparatory to exposure.

This means that the film as it arrives from the manufacturer must be

submitted to a preliminary operation to augment its sensitiveness to

light. For this purpose it is passed through a “colour-sensitising”

solution. The precise constitution of this sensitising bath is

jealously guarded, though the materials employed in the process are

well known, and several formulæ which will render a film panchromatic

have been published. Any one of three chemicals can be utilised to

render the ordinary film so sensitive to light that the ruby lamp

will fog it. These are pinachrome, pinacyanol, and ethyl-violet. The

proportion of these fundamental chemicals varies, the majority of

investigators having evolved a particular formula which they have

found to be the best suited to their own requirements. The published

formulæ, however, have proved quite reliable, and have been productive

of some excellent results; and they provide the experimenter with a

basis upon which to carry out his work. Recently a further development

has been recorded. W. F. Greene, the pioneer, has successfully employed

a new colour sensitiser, which is faster than either of the three

above-mentioned mediums.

Panchromatising is a tedious operation. The work has to be carried out

practically in total darkness, or at the utmost in the faint glimmer of

a blue-black light. Even this slight illumination has to be used very

sparingly, being switched on only for a few seconds at a time. After

being passed through the colour sensitiser the film is wound upon a

large drum and dried, this operation being accelerated by rotating the

drum at a high speed in a current of warm air. When dry the film is

wound upon the spool ready for use. As may be supposed, the operation

is somewhat slow, about three hours being occupied under the most

favourable conditions in the process of sensitising and drying.

It is imperative that the film, after being sensitised, should be used

as soon as possible. It deteriorates rapidly; the sensitiveness of the

emulsion to red light becomes impoverished through keeping, the life of

stock so treated being, as a rule, one of only a few weeks.

Another objection to colour cinematography is the expense. When the

three primary colours--red, green, and violet--are used, demanding

a photographing and projecting speed of forty-eight pictures per

second--sixteen per second through each screen--as compared with

sixteen pictures per second with black and white work, three times

the quantity of film has to be used. Accordingly, the expense of

the film alone is three times as heavy. The further necessity for

panchromatising the film before use increases the cost of the material

still more. By the time the “stock” has been treated with the colour

sensitiser its cost is increased from 1½d., or 3 cents, to about 3½d.,

or 7 cents, per foot.

When tricolour cinematography is attempted, three feet of film are

required to record the movements of the subject during the space of one

second, as against one foot for black and white work. With a view to

reducing this heavy cost, inventors concentrated their attention on the

possibility of securing _approximately true_ natural colours by the aid

of two screens only--the green and the red. In this way a third less

film was required and the cost was reduced by an equal proportion.

This development was led by W. F. Greene. Realising the disadvantages

of the three screens, he abandoned that system--although it has since

been exploited--and in 1905 perfected the first practical method of

natural-colour cinematography through two screens--red and green.

A demonstration was given in the Library of the Royal Institution

on January 26th, 1906. This was not Greene’s first demonstration in

two-colour work, as in 1900 he devised a machine for achieving the same

object, which was exhibited before the Royal Photographic Society in

that year.

Another diligent investigator in this field was Mr. Albert Smith, who

was striving towards colour cinematography at the same time as Greene,

but independently of him. The art fascinated him in the early days;

and although he prosecuted his experiments first in black and white,

the result of Ives’s efforts in still-life colour photography prompted

him to wrestle with the problem of producing natural colours in moving

pictures. The elimination of the third or blue screen was his special

study, and years were expended in researches to this end, involving

countless experiments with the red and green screens, varying in

density and intensity from the colour point of view, and in relation to

one another. For instance, one screen, say, of emerald-green and the

other of orange-red would first be used. This proving unsatisfactory,

the proportion of the red in the one screen was increased, the green

remaining untouched. Then the green would be varied, and then the red

again, the process being continued until a satisfactory result was

obtained. The search was rendered all the more exasperating when the

screens which produced satisfaction on one day with a subject, failed

altogether with another subject the next day, owing to variation in the

light. At last, in 1906, Mr. Smith’s patent, known as “Kinemacolor,”

made its appearance some eighteen months behind that of Greene; though

it was not perfected sufficiently to be introduced to the public until

1908.

Undoubtedly “Kinemacolor” is at present the best-known commercial

natural colour system. The appearance of this process has stimulated

the movement in colour cinematography to a pronounced degree, and its

improved appearance in 1911 created a sensation. Some of the effects

produced have been very beautiful, and although they are far from

perfect, as those identified with the process will readily admit, yet

it constitutes an excellent stepping-stone for further improvement.

The statement that the blue screen has been eliminated will doubtless

provoke discussion as to how the hues of a pronounced blue or purple

effect so common in nature can be obtained. If one picture is

photographed through the red screen and the second through the green

screen, this alternation of exposure being continued throughout the

film, it seems certain that the result will be pictures wherein only

green and red tones exist, since no combination of these colours

will give purple. This, in fact, is the case, and it constitutes

the foremost imperfection in “Kinemacolor”; the pictures do have a

prevailing green or red tone. But these tints become modified slightly.

The essential blue tone is partially supplied in two ways. In the

first place there is a certain proportion of blue associated with the

green screen; secondly, when the electric arc light is used there is a

pronounced blue tone in the light. The combination of these factors,

to a certain but very small degree, compensates for the absence of the

blue screen.

On the other hand, resort to the two screens serves to emphasise the

direct colours. The red and green tones do stand out with startling

purity--“unnaturally vivid” is a criticism that I have often heard--but

the intermediate tones, particularly those of the browns, are

strikingly soft. Some of the pictures are assailed as being unnatural

in tone; and to a certain extent the criticism is a just one. In some

instances, however, it is due to the fact that the spectator has never

actually concentrated his attention upon colour effects in Nature. His

eye has never given him a faithful report of their quality.

That “Kinemacolor” has severe limitations cannot be denied, especially

when it comes to dealing with Nature direct. Fidelity to the myriad

hues of Nature, ranging from one extreme end of the spectrum to the

other, cannot possibly be obtained by recourse to two screens.

One searches in vain for the true blue and the rich, deep purple,

while the pure yellow also is absent, being represented by varying

tones of orange. So far as the blues and purples are concerned, they

never can be obtained by resort to the two screens--red and green

respectively--because what is known as the lower end of the spectrum

is lost entirely by “Kinemacolor.” The hues stop short at the boundary

where green meets blue.

The public has sometimes drawn attention to another defect in colour

cinematography. It appears to photograph the subject in a brilliant

sunlight, regardless of the fact that sunlight kills colours. Every

amateur photographer knows that if he exposes his plate upon a

brilliantly lighted subject the tones are hard, everything being

practically resolved into an intense white and black, while the leaves

of trees appear to be covered with snow. When such a disadvantage

afflicts the black and white worker, what can be said of a colour

subject taken under the same conditions? The brilliantly lighted points

are lacking in tone, and some very bizarre effects are produced in

consequence. When an essentially scenic subject is thrown upon the

screen these defects are very manifest, but when it is applied to such

a subject as the Coronation of the King the flaws are overlooked,

because public interest is concentrated upon the principal actors.

It cannot be denied that from the popular point of view the Kinemacolor

records of the Coronation, the Investiture of the Prince of Wales, and

other Royal subjects of the same time left little to be desired. They

brought the scene before millions with a wonderful realism and gorgeous

blaze of colour such as never before in the history of moving pictures

had been witnessed upon the screen. The excellence of these portrayals

established “Kinemacolor” firmly in the mind of the public.

Another disconcerting feature which has aroused considerable comment

in the public mind is the apparent duplication of the outlines of

figures near the camera. The most uninitiated observer cannot fail to

see the outlines in green and red, as if the superimposition were out

of register. “Fringing,” as this defect is called, is difficult to

eliminate in many instances, and although often it is only momentary,

it is decidedly distressing. It is due to diffraction, the glass screen

as the light passes through acting somewhat as a prism, and splitting

up the light into its component parts or groups of wave-lengths.

“Kinemacolor” has vast possibilities in the presentation of

picture-plays; indeed, this may be said to be its true province. Here

one can prepare the scenery and costumes to come within the limitations

of the two screens adopted; the drawbacks can be eliminated by proper

staging, and all those colours omitted which cannot be faithfully

reproduced. Even if the latter expedient is not practised, the

colour-distortion is not seen upon the screen. The audience cannot see

that a rich purple cloak has turned to a whitish-green, or a brilliant

yellow become reddish-orange.

In justice, however, it must be said that Kinemacolor is only in its

infancy; it occupies the same position to-day that black-and-white

cinematography did in the early ’nineties. The combined efforts of

several independent investigators will eliminate the defects one by

one and effect steady improvements. Black-and-white cinematography

has passed beyond the formative period and reached an advanced stage

of development; natural-colour cinematography must go through the

self-same ordeal. Operators have not become accustomed to the new order

of things, and have not realised the many new factors that have to be

taken into consideration. The sooner they do so, the more profitable

will the art become.

A new rival, “Biocolor,” has recently made its appearance. This process

is based upon the Greene patents, and the results achieved so far, in

combination with this indefatigable experimenter’s latest discoveries,

represent a marked advance in the art. Not only are the tones purer to

Nature, but “fringing” and other defects have been eliminated, while

the process is much simpler and cheaper.

Considerable attention has been centred upon a new natural-colour

cinematographic process which has recently made its appearance. The

three primary colours are used, and are projected upon the screen

simultaneously to present merely one image before the public, as in

the Ives system of lantern-slide colour-projection. The pictures are

projected at the rate of sixteen per second in groups of three, and the

lighting arrangement is carried out upon different lines. Instead of a

revolving shutter eclipsing the red image to permit the green picture

to be brought into place, the light is extinguished, projection being

carried out upon a flash system, whereby a powerful beam of light is

thrown momentarily through the three images and screens, the pictures

being changed in the period of darkness. The flashing must be carried

out with uniformity, which is assured by electric-mechanical means,

independently of the operator. The results, it is stated, show the most

distinct advance so far made in natural-colour cinematography.

Although colour-cinematography has made remarkable strides, the

monochrome picture has become established more firmly than ever.

The appearance of the new rival has stimulated perfection in the

technical excellence of the latter process. The monochrome possesses

one overwhelming advantage over its competitor--it is far cheaper.

A subject which in black and white requires, say, 500 feet of film,

demands, as we have seen, 1,000 feet, or twice the quantity of

material, for the two-colour record of the same subject. At present

also the monochrome film possesses finer and more brilliant detail, is

clearer, and, from the photographic standpoint, leaves little to be

desired.

It is becoming quite a common practice to relieve the monotonous

black-and-white by the introduction of colouring effects. For instance,

the impression of a bright moon-light night is conveyed by giving

the pictures a prevailing blue tone; for other scenes brown or red

tones are given. These effects are secured by steeping the film in a

chemical solution in precisely the same way as platinotype and bromide

papers are tinted after development.

“Toning,” as it is called, is coming into extensive use, especially

in connection with the most artistic films. The treatment imparts a

solidity to the figures in the picture, and gives a pleasing softness,

so that the pictures upon the screen possess a quasi-stereoscopic

effect highly pleasing to the eye. The beauty of this treatment is

revealed very significantly in the films of Italian manufacture, and

especially in the “art” productions of the Cines Company, of Rome.

There is no limitation to subsequent improving processes such as

these, and their effect is to implant the monochrome pictures more and

more firmly in public estimation. Consequently, the black-and-white

picture is far from being eclipsed by its new rival; in fact, such a

contingency is more remote to-day than it was ten years ago.

CHAPTER XXVII

MOVING PICTURES IN THE HOME

Will the cinematograph ever enter home life? Will the world and

his wife ever become wedded to a camera with which they can secure

life in motion by some simple and easy method, just as now they can

obtain still-life pictures by the aid of the hand-camera? Will the

cinematograph become as popular as the ubiquitous Kodak?

There is no doubt that the widespread favour extended to cinematography

has brought about a popular desire to follow the art in an amateur

manner, as is possible in ordinary photography. Hitherto certain

obstacles have stood in the way of the amateur enthusiast; but these

difficulties have been broken down in an ingenious manner. The desire

to practise the new cult has been increased by the number of firms

engaged in the making of topical pictures and by the increasing

demand for such subjects. Occasionally pictures command a high value,

fluctuating in proportion to public interest. For instance, the

dramatic manner of Blériot’s flight across the Channel caught the

professional cinematographers by surprise. Elaborate arrangements

had been made to secure pictorial records of this journey, but only

one man, a wide-awake amateur, obtained a film of the embarkation.

Although his film was deficient in technique and photographic quality,

it commanded a high price; and the enterprising photographer never had

occasion to regret his enterprise, for his initial expense was recouped

several times over.

The cost of the camera and the expense of the film are the chief

drawbacks to the popularisation of cinematography; the bulkiness of

the apparatus has also militated against its adoption by the amateur.

Recently, however, these admitted drawbacks have been overcome, and by

methods which claim the distinct merit of ingenuity and resource.

About 1886 a novel device known as the “Kineograph” appeared. It was an

anticipation of the “Mutoscope,” which made such a bold bid for public

appreciation in the early ’nineties and, like the Kineograph itself,

failed to make its mark. A number of instantaneous photographs were

printed and mounted upon separate leaves. The pictures were placed in

consecutive order and bound at one side to form a kind of book. When

the leaves were turned over rapidly, giving fleeting though distinct

glimpses of the successive pictures, the idea was conveyed that motion

was being represented.

Recently this idea has been revived in the “Kinora” motion photography

system. This likewise made its first appearance some years ago, but

failed of success, although it was distinctly ingenious. It offered

to the home in pictures just what the phonograph provides in regard

to sound--the capture of a particular incident to be reproduced at

leisure. In a highly improved form the same device has recently

reappeared, and its reception augurs well for its future.

The amateur is provided with facilities for taking his own photographs,

a special camera having been evolved for the purpose of simple design

and operation. In general appearance it resembles the ordinary

hand-camera, measuring 9⅛ inches in length by 6⅝ inches wide by 7⅝

inches deep. When loaded it does not weigh more than 7¼ pounds.

Externally it possesses few fittings. There is the lens, which can be

focussed by moving the lens tube to and fro in an outer sleeve, as in a

telescope; the view-finder, placed on the top, and the actuating handle

at the right-hand side. At the rear is the dial, whereby is indicated

the length of film exposed, a focussing tube and the device whereby

focussing is carried out.

[Illustration: The Kinora camera.]

[Illustration: The mechanism of the Kinora camera showing paper

negative film in position.

MOVING PICTURES AT HOME.]

The mechanism of the camera is very simple. The sensitised ribbon

is placed in a circular spool box and then is threaded through the

film-gate and the intermittent gear, to be taken finally in a second

circular spool-box. The intermittent gear differs entirely from that in

the ordinary camera, which works upon a claw or finger system with the

film running over sprockets. In the Kinora camera below the gate there

are two eccentric rollers, mounted side by side, acting in the same way

as the rollers of the domestic mangle. These rollers are split at one

point through their entire length, and when these two edges, rotating

synchronously but in opposite directions, come together and in contact

with the film, which is fed between them, they grip and pull it down

the depth of one picture. It may be pointed out that a similar movement

was adopted in the very earliest cinematograph cameras built by Greene

and other experimenters, in order to secure the requisite intermittent

motion. Their imperfection was the uncertain motion of the rollers; but

in the Kinora camera this defect has been completely overcome.

[Illustration: The reel of positive prints. The pictures are mounted

separately upon leaves fixed to a core.]

[Illustration: MOVING PICTURES AT HOME.

The Kinora reproduction instrument. It resembles a stereoscope, and the

pictures are exposed singly by rotating the handle.]

The apparatus can be used either with a paper negative or the

celluloid film. The former is very satisfactory and inexpensive, and

it may be stated that this is the first occasion in which the paper

negative has been applied successfully to motion-photography. The

camera is adapted to carry forty feet of ribbon, which is sufficient

for 640 consecutive pictures, the latter being precisely of the same

dimensions as those obtained upon the ordinary celluloid cinematograph

film--one inch in width by three-quarters of an inch deep. Paper is

suited to ordinary work, although the grain destroys sharpness to

a slight extent; however, as such sensitised ribbon costs only 1s.

6d. (36 cents) per length of forty feet, the drawback is slight. If

desired, celluloid film can be used, in which case the ribbon is one

inch in width--three-eighths of an inch narrower than the standard

cinematographic film, although there is no variation in the size of

the image, since the necessity of perforating the edges has been

obviated. Celluloid film printed in this manner cannot be used for the

purposes of projection upon a screen. Moreover, the celluloid film is

expensive; the paper sensitised ribbon is more suitable for home-work.

The paper negative is developed in the ordinary manner, but as the

operation is somewhat delicate, the exposed ribbon should be sent to

the manufacturers, who also prepare the positive for a modest outlay.

In any case, the positive must be prepared by the manufacturers, as it

is a somewhat intricate process, demanding resort to special machinery;

the pictures have to be printed one by one, on successive leaves in

rotation, and attached by one end to a bobbin so as to present a

circular reel for use in the Kinora projecting apparatus, as shown

in the illustration. The pictures are printed upon bromide paper in

such a way that the image stands upon a black background. The latter

is obtained by exposing the sensitised paper surrounding the negative

image to the light at the same time that the negative is printed; and

as it becomes thoroughly exposed, development brings it out perfectly

black. It looks as though the positive were printed upon paper and

afterwards cut out and mounted upon a black background.

The positive has next to be submitted to a treatment whereby the back

of the paper is coated with a dead black. The strip of paper carrying

the images is then cut to the requisite size by means of special

machinery, so that each picture forms a leaf about 3½ inches long by 1

inch deep. The blank end of each leaf is attached to a central core or

reel, some 640 leaves being mounted edge-wise in this manner, and the

positive is then ready for projection.

The apparatus by means of which the motion is reproduced varies

slightly in the different types. In its simplest form it recalls the

stereoscope in design, only instead of two lenses it has one large

rectangular magnifying-glass. The reel is mounted upon the opposite end

of the instrument in a horizontal manner so that the pictures stand

vertically and parallel to the lens. There is a small handle at one

side whereby the reel of pictures is rotated through simple gearing,

while a metal finger rests lightly upon the extreme outer edge of

the leaves in such a way as to permit only one picture to turn over

at a time. When this handle is turned and one is looking through the

magnifying-glass, the leaves fly over in rapid sequence, producing a

vivid illusion of animation. In the second type of machine the reel

is mounted in a cabinet, which is fitted with two or more lenses,

so that two or more people can follow the movement of the pictures

simultaneously. The actuating mechanism is driven by clockwork, as in a

gramophone.

Endless pleasure can be obtained with this instrument in the home.

Pretty little incidents of domestic life, such as children playing,

animals gambolling, and so forth, can be photographed and reproduced

upon the reel! If one is more ambitious one can cinematograph great

events, such as a horse race, a boxing contest, an express train at

full speed--in short, anything in motion. It is only necessary to set

the camera upon some rigid foundation, if a tripod is not carried, to

secure steadiness during exposure.

There is one great benefit accruing from the use of this apparatus.

Unless wanton carelessness is displayed, one need not worry about

under- or over-exposure. The paper negatives are coated with an

exceedingly rapid emulsion of considerable orthochromatic quality, so

that true colour-values are ensured.