Showing posts with label James Stuart Blackton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label James Stuart Blackton. Show all posts

Monday, 8 November 2010

Animation Comes Alive - 1911 - Little Nemo - J. Stuart Blackton & Winsor McCay




            Little Nemo functions as a promotional vehicle for the multi-talented Winsor McCay; in fact, the film's alternate title is Winsor McCay, the Famous Cartoonist of the N.Y. Herald and His Moving Comics. The majority of the film involves McCay preparing his ‘moving comic’ of Little Nemo for his sceptical friends.



Before entering the world of animated film, McCay was famous for his cartoon strips (we have already looked at a live action cinematic adaptation of one of his cartoon strip Dream of a Rarebit Fiend). Of his various strips, Little Nemo has proved to be his most enduring legacy:

Simply put, Little Nemo revolutionized the comic strip. At 38, McCay was at the very peak of his talent and the New York Herald had the most talented and creative colour printing staff in the business. Together they crafted a weekly fantasy that week by week revealed Slumberland to be more magical than even L. Frank Baum's Oz (created in 1899) and more wonderful than Lewis Carroll's Wonderland (1865). Books and websites abound praising Nemo far more than I could possibly do in this short bio. Nemo was published in the New York Herald until July 23, 1911. The strips have been reprinted many times. Find them and lose yourself in this masterpiece.


            Unfortunately, the strips were not as popular during McCay’s own era:
The strip was not a great popular success in its time. Most readers preferred the slapstick antics of such strips as Katzenjammer Kids, Happy Hooligan, and Buster Brown to the surreal fantasy of Nemo, and other comic strips like Krazy Kat. 


            Therefore, although some of the contemporary viewers will have been familiar with McCay’s work, others audience members would have been unaware of McCay’s background as a cartoonist. This meant his background was similar to that of his co-director J. Stuart Blackton, who also began his career as a cartoonist. Furthermore, the symbolism of America’s earliest animation pioneer passing the baton to his immediate successor is evident with the co-direction credits for both Blackton and McCay.
            One of the reasons the film portrays McCay’s thought process behind his creation of his ‘moving pictures’, is that as well as being a cartoonist McCay was also a vaudeville artist. McCay had begun his vaudeville act five years earlier and the film served as a great promotional tool for his act.




             Unfortunately, the weakest part of the film is this lengthy explanation of why and how he went about creating the 4,000 images that began his career as an animator. The section is overtly long, which often undercuts the intended effect of a particular scene. For example, the audience is presented with the fascinating image of McCay surrounded by his thousands of drawings (see image below).




A co-worker or cleaner continually interrupts him and eventually knocks over the majority of the images that have clearly been placed in sequential order. The scene’s unnecessary length stifles the humour of the scene and McCay’s reaction to the spillage further dents any humour that may have been intended. Little Nemo compares unfavourably to the Max Linder film that we just looked at in terms of drawing humour from self-referential scenes in an early silent film.
I also feel that the film missed an opportunity in choosing to evade the question of how the ‘moving images’ were put together. Although we see McCay draw several images and then later witness him in his office surrounded by his images, what would have interested me most would have been to see how he put together the various drawings in order to conjure the fantastical animation that closes the film.



It is the animation that the film should be judged by; under this criterion the film is a great success. The level of detail and the introduction of colour mean that Little Nemo is light years ahead of its predecessors. Although, it does not share the rapid inventiveness of The Hasher’s Delirium or Fantasmagorie, it has no need to do so because the characters that McCay draws are far more concrete and realised. 



The scene where a ‘prince’ give his ‘princess’ a rose (see image above) and their subsequent seating in a dragon’s mouth (see image below) is the most breathtaking image that we have witnessed thus far in animation’s brief history. The addition of a multitude of colours provides the animation with a richness that animation craves far more than live action films do.


Little Nemo marks a significant step in animation’s maturation as an art form. Although its live action sequence is arduous and over-long, the brief animated sequence’s concentrated brilliance more than makes up for this earlier shortfall.   

Tuesday, 24 August 2010

1909 - A Midsummer Night's Dream - Charles Kent & J. Stuart Blackton




If 2009 may have been the year of the vampire, 1909 was certainly the year of the fairy. The appearance of Puck and the other fairies in this first cinematic adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream means that three of the four films we have looked at so far have involved fairies. Puck’s mischief making in this film has more in common with the playfully troublesome fairies in Princess Nicotine than the benevolent fairy in the Fairy of the Surf.



Thanks to Tinkerbell and the tooth fairy, we assume that fairies have positive characteristics. However, fairies used to be associated with the following:
Much of the folklore about fairies revolves around protection from their malice, by such means as cold iron (iron is like poison to fairies, and they will not go near it) or charms of rowan and herbs, or avoiding offense by shunning locations known to be theirs.[6] In particular, folklore describes how to prevent the fairies from stealing babies and substituting changelings, and abducting older people as well.


The representational nature of the fairy has therefore shifted more than any mythic creature and is a suitably apt mascot for early film. Although film was gaining credibility and recognition by 1909, there was no certainty as to whether it would develop as a major art or what effect it would have on its audience. From the films that we have looked at so far in 1909, it has become apparent that the year sees film beginning to find the technical means to match its loftier ambitions for its further development. The uncertainty of what film may represent during this period correlates with the uncertainty of what fairies represented (which ranges from demoted angels to demons). I suspect that there are a number of issues and interpretations that can be raised here, but I will delay mentioning them to see how the symbol of the fairy develops over the next decade.


The film itself differs significantly from the first Shakespeare play we looked at, The Tempest. Firstly, unlike The Tempest, it was made across the Atlantic by Vitagraph. They were developing a niche of making prestige films based on esteemed cultural sources such as Shakespeare.



Unlike the 1908 version of The Tempest, A Midsummer’s Night Dream is at times guilty of being ‘stage bound’. This is particularly true of the opening scene, where it feels as though the camera is merely filming a theatrical adaptation of the play on a set rather than attempting to create a movie that can attempt to stand independently of its source. And given the limitations of a ‘one-reeler’ such as this in conveying the entirety of a Shakespeare play, this is a significant setback.



An even greater problem with the film is that around a third of it is missing, including one of the play’s finest moments, Bottom and his motley crew’s take on Pyramus and Thisbe. Given that the film is attempting to be a play on film, this only serves to confuse and alienate the audience, as the missing plot developments result in a surviving film riddled with inconsistencies. This may be a tad harsh on the film, but if it had been more visually imaginative and braver in interpreting its source material, the film would have been a far greater success.   



The film may be more flawed than most of the ones we have looked at so far on the Film: Ab Initio list, but it does have some amiable qualities. The performance of Puck is delightful; energetic, colourful and playful, her first appearance breathes life into what until her arrival had been an insipid take on Shakespeare’s play (see image above). The film also decides to replace the role of Oberon with a female fairy called Penelope. We can only speculate as to why Vitagraph decided to make such an adjustment, but this decision adds a level of intrigue that benefits the film.



And finally, I am normally quite sceptical when it comes to most modern audio commentaries on films, but the commentary for this film and the Silent Shakespeare DVD in general is worthy of praise. Judith Buchanan provides us with an insightful, passionate look at the film, revealing useful pieces of information, such as the fact the film’s release may have been delayed so that it could be released on Christmas Day or the fact that Hermia, played by Julia Swayne Gordon was Vitagraph’s principal leading lady in this period. If only more early silent films had such useful commentaries!




Saturday, 21 August 2010

The last great trick film? - 1909 - Princess Nicotine - J. Stuart Blackton




Just as rapid technological innovation lead to film having the ability to tackle more ‘serious’ genres such as tragedy, the medium’s increasing length also meant that film’s earliest topics were now of less importance. The Lumiere Brothers’ actuality film no longer had the effect of wowing audiences simply because they were witnessing the moving image for the first time. The trick film too, was becoming a less important genre and would eventually desist altogether.

(Although there is a convincing argument to be made that many of the action films made since the eighties are the natural extension of these early trick films: i.e. the primary emphasis of these films are visual trickery, although most of these later films lack the wit and charm of these early trick films.)



As influential as Méliès has been on many of the filmmakers of the last thirty years, his influence on his immediate peers is less apparent. Princess Nicotine, along with Blactkon’s earlier trick film, The Thieving Hand, are clear examples of trick films that have been heavily influenced by Méliès, However, as we navigate the next decade of film making, his influence and popularity both temporarily wane.

The extraordinary settings of Méliès’ Le Voyage dans la Lune (1902) and Le Voyage à travers l'Impossible (1904) (if you want to read more about Méliès’, check out this review of both films as well as other films made by Méliès ) allowed both films to entertain and delight audiences at fourteen minutes and twenty four minutes respectively.  



However, as Méliès and other like minded film makers would discover over the next few years, audiences' interests would change dramatically; film was no longer seen as a gimmick; instead, it was now considered by some to have the potential to function as an art form.

Princess Nicotine identifies the primary problem that makes it abundantly clear why the trick film’s popularity was waning in 1908: film’s increasing length. Outside of Méliès’ two aforementioned masterpieces, it is hard to find a surviving trick film that was an unqualified success which lasted for more than ten minutes. The problem was that there was a limited selection of camera tricks that one could use. Princess Nicotine used every stage and camera trick that was available at the time, and still only managed to thread together a film that lasts for five minutes. Within five years many films would run for over an hour, making it impossible for a trick film to possess the sustained quality of a film like Princess Nicotine.

As with Blackton’s earlier trick film, The Thieving Hand, Princess Nicotine incorporates surreal and fantastical elements to an ordinary situation to entertain his viewers. Princess Nicotine involves an Edwardian man discovering two ‘tobacco fairies’ (see image below) among his smokes and the fallout that ensues.



I was surprised by the devilish amount of sassiness and wit that Princess Nicotine offers its audience; the fairies in the film are more Christopher Marlowe than Walt Disney, and all the better for it. The Smoker, who is played by Paul Panzer, is charming, but lacks the subtleties in body movement that Max Linder displayed in his film on the topic of smoking, Le Premier Cigare D’un Collegien.

What makes Princess Nicotine stand out from most other trick films is its narrative pacing. The tricks on display do not feel gratuitous; each one raises the comic stakes of the faux battle between the two parties, with the film ending on a dark but humorous note. 




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Thursday, 22 July 2010

A surreal comic delight - 1908 - The Thieving Hand - J. Stuart Blackton




One can draw a comparison between the birth and exponential growth of cinema and the formation of a star:
Stars are formed from huge clouds of dust and gases, mainly hydrogen and helium (which, combined, are called nebula). As the dust and gases swirl around, they break into clumps and contract due to gravitational forces. As the clumps bump each other and collect more dust and gases, they get bigger, and their gravity, which holds the star together, becomes stronger. Since gravity is so strong, the particles become more tightly packed. Once it is hot enough for nuclear fusion to occur, a star is formed. 


What makes this period (1904-13) so exciting is that it is before the art of film is ‘hot enough for nuclear fusion to occur’ and its star is born. Due to the rapidly evolving technology of the camera (within thirteen years, filmmakers were already making films that were twenty times the length of the Lumiere Brothers’ first actuality films from 1895) and the pioneering vision of filmmakers around the world (the Australians made the first feature film in 1906, the Italians made the first explicit political film a year earlier, etc.) film was very much still ‘dust and gases swirling around’.  

In 1908, film had yet to settle on an expected estimate length or branch off into particular genres; there was a wonderful overlap and fusion of unexpected ideas. There are few better examples of this then J. Stuart Blackton making The Thieving Hand two years after making the first American animated film, Humorous Phases of Funny Faces. Whereas Humorous Phases was a primitive but entertaining attempt at making an animated film, The Thieving Hand was a pseudo-surrealist live action comedy centring around a false limb.

The Thieving Hand amalgamates some of the most interesting ideas that we have encountered in the films of the first decade of the twentieth century; one can find the visual trickery of Méliès, the comic timing of Max Linder, the narrative sequencing of Porter and the playfulness of Blackton’s own animation work. The film shares certain surrealist elements with Porter’s Dream of a Rarebit Fiend
; however, the surrealist aspects of The Thieving Hand are less explicit but more comic. 



The film involves a one-armed street cobbler helping an upper class man (whose hat and cigar bear an uncanny resemblance to Max Linder in Le Premier Cigare d’un Collegien
), who repays the favour by purchasing him an arm from a limb shop (see above). The otherworldliness of the limb shop juxtaposes with the previous scene on the street in an unerring manner that Méliès’ shorter films do not quite manage. The use of a false limb functions in a more subtle and effective manner than one of Méliès’ demons; the limb also manages to function as the proverbial devil on the shoulder of the protagonist (or perhaps even, the protagonist’s subconscious) and land him in trouble.   

The film successfully synergises the aforementioned influences and styles and delivers a simple and thoroughly enjoyable film. In fact, I would suggest that it is an excellent ‘entry point’ for films from this decade. It is thoroughly engaging for a first time viewer, while also alluding to much of the best work of this decade.





Saturday, 26 June 2010

The first American animated film - 1906 - Humorous Phases of Funny Faces - James Stuart Blackton





One of the brilliant repercussions of Melies’ trick film-making is the discovery of animation. Humorous Phases of Funny Faces is widely considered to be the earliest surviving American animated film – and it is as primitive as it is delightful.

The film was directed by John Stuart Blackton, who alongside Albert E. Smith formed one of the first movie studios, Vitagraph Motion Pictures. Before entering the world of film, Blackton had been a vaudeville cartoonist.

An important question to ask as we evaluate the first animated film on this list is: how much of a difference is there between animated films and ‘moving pictures’ (I think moving pictures is a more appropriate phrase than motion pictures when referring to early silent films)? I would suggest that there is a substantial gulf between the two categories.

For example, if we were to draw a family tree of the genealogy of the arts, animated film would stem from a different branch to the ‘moving picture’. The moving picture can be traced back to the earliest photograph, which was produced by the French inventor Joseph Nicéphore Niépce. Animation, on the other hand, can trace its roots back far earlier to the earliest drawings that were made thousands of years ago.

Yet again, the answer of how the contemporary audience would have responded to this film would be extremely helpful. Although seeing the earliest Lumiere Brothers’ films would have startled the audience for obvious reasons, what they were witnessing were things which they could experience witness in their day to day activities. A film like Humorous Phases of Funny Faces, however, surely would have completely 
bamboozled them, as they were seeing a drawing come to life.



Also, unlike with the Lumiere Brothers’ first film, La Sortie de l'Usine Lumière à Lyon, where the workers could not help staring at the camera, the animated film would offer its creator complete control of his/her entire environment. 
   
The Animation Archive provides us with a helpful background to the film as well as the process behind it:
Smith and Blackton created what were then called "Trick Films"... the camera was stopped for a moment while the scene was changed, making things magically appear and disappear; images dissolved from one to another; and shots were double exposed to create ghostly images. In 1900, Blackton experimented with putting his lightning sketch act on film in a movie called "The Enchanted Drawing", but it was in April of 1906 when he made his most important breakthrough. In a trick film titled "Humorous Phases of Funny Faces" Blackton created what is regarded as the first American animated film.
Humorous Phases of Funny Faces sees several of Blackton’s drawings come to life. The most sophisticated animation is reserved for the final character, the clown, who instructs a lion to dance on his arm and then jump through a hoop.



It is an awfully simple film and its joy partly derives from the possibilities that the film hints at. When you think of the incredibly sophisticated and layered animation work that goes into the latest Pixar or Miyazaki release, it is important to understand the humble and simple beginnings of animated films.

But it also serves an important lesson for modern animated film makers – animated film is a completely different entity to moving pictures and this should be embraced – I hope that the success of Toy Story 3 does not mean that most major animated films will be shot in 3D. More often than not, simplicity trumps all, Humorous Phases of Funny Faces exemplifies this point.