THE FUTURE OF THE FILMS

Press, Volume LXXII, Issue 21808, 13 June 1936, Page 17

THE FUTURE OF THE FILMS

igf Cir.enia. By Dallas Bovver. M. Dent and Sens Ltd. 147 pp. (i» net.) About half of Mr Dallas Bower’s book is a survey of the film as it is g ( present, technically, artistically, and sociologically: the other half is speculation cn its future. After conseveral possible develooments he finally sees the cinema theatre reverting to its old form of tie arena, in the centre of whicn an illusion of complete reality is abated by means of a translucent cylindrical screen which revolve', as jt ta I"** 1 "** the images from four corjggpondingly rotating projectors. Socb a theatre would have the stage advantages of solidity and eolouV, tad the cinematic advantages of complete freedom in change of setting, locale, and viewpoint, and in it Mr Bower sees an ideal medium far presenting grand opera, ballet, tud broadly conceived dramatic me, such as the Odyssey. Whether the enthusiasm for reproductive realism that 1000* to guide the technical development of the film will lead to such ttype of cinema or not, the possibility at least provokes a consideration of the nature of film art, for, if the medium is capable of changso radically, there is little use (B assessing the cinema by the stan<faldß of the present day pictorial toten. The possibilities inherent in photographic representation have largely determined the individual dramatic character of the film a§ a pfay. and in the film we have the opportunity, probably unique to-day, of leeing an art develop in accordance with the rapid improvement of it* technical resources. When moving pictures first came into existence they appealed as a piece of scientific magic, just as the find reproductions of reality in the farm of the drawings scratched on enve walls. They were the first completely new type of reproduction since primitive times. Even thenpredecessor was appropriately called the magic lantern, with its power to cover a blank screen with a picture and mysteriously whisk it away and replace it with another. But pictures that showed their events in motion —here was a real wonder. It was natural that the pictorial aspect of this new miracle should at first be the only one considered. The eerily films were merely photographs of things that people liked to see in reality, such as military parades, where familiar events could be recognised in the fascinating form of pictures that moved. The art was still a spatial one; the interest was sokly that people and animals and trains moved about in space in a picture, not that their movements bad any dramatic interest in time.

Distinctive Dramatic Features It was not long, however, before the dramatic possibilities of the new medium were recognised. Its limitation and potentiality, and the means of compensating for the cue and developing the other %«re soon to make the film a distinctive art. The main limitation vas the lad: of speech, and the potentiality was the enormous scenic variety with the instantaneous change from one scene to another that was possible in a play presented through this medium. The lack of speech did not. as i often superficially stated, lead very markedly to exaggeration of gesture and expression. This was not necessary, for the camera, it was soon realised, could single out and draw' attention to the slightest facial or bodily movement. In this technique lay a very imoortant advantage over the stage. The lack of speech, however, precluded the possibility of the presentation of psychological plays, and with the freedom in varying locale, it was natural that the film should turn to the tvpe of play in which the action not only told the story, but moved through a wide range of icene. Significance of “Western” Films The legend of the nineteenth rentury development of western America was an obviously ideal SMirce of material for the film producer. Action was the keynote of the life, the period, and country, and, moreover, exciting action •gainst a colourful and often scenimagnificent background. It •Horded themes which could not poanbly be dealt with on the stage, •nd lor which the screen was a far effective medium than the awel The characters needed only ■taoad and conventional delineation. To* emotions had no more subtlety than could be satisfactorily con-

Problems of Past and Present

.Ktuovcil by V. M. BROOKES]

veyed by action. The “western” him was the screen’s entirely new contribution to dramatic art, and remains the symbolic type of film in which cinematic possibility is exploited to the full. Other types of action film have also used these possibilities, but none with a more complete harmony between subject and medium than the “western,” which was indigenous to the soil on which the film grew into an art. When the visual possibilities of the film were beginning to be fully appreciated, sound came into the picture. And just as pictures first appealed simply because they moved, they now appealed because they could talk (and sing). The result was that the true art of the film was obscured for a time, and many critics, indeed, could see no future for the sound film, and prophesied a return to the silent. Nearly all the early talkies had too much sound, and many of them were little more than reproductions of stage plays. The “western” film, with all that it stood for, was in eclipse; it was stated that technical difficulties would prevent outdoor action films ever being made as talkies. However, it was not long before the proper place of sound in the film was understood. The range of the film drama was w ; dened, and sound was used to improve the legitimate types already in existence. It was learned that the visual aspect of the film was still the most important, and that dialogue had not nearly the same value as in a stage play.

[ Problem of Solidity The problem of introducing colour was, and is, a more complicated one. Spasmodic attempts, unlike the stroke which converted the movies into the talkies overnight, have been made to solve it, but no very great popular enthusiasm or demand seems to have been aroused. At the outset it must be admitted that the appeal of colour to individuals seems to be much less capable of being expressed in terms of a common denominator than that of the other artistic elements in a film production. This consideration is, of course, most important in film art, the existence of which depends on an appeal to a sufficiently large number of people to cover the enormous outlay involved. The perception of colour is highly subjective, and to present the colours of reality in any work of art is as much an interpretative as a reproductive task, and one which has constituted a difficult artistic problem for the paint-r. It was absurdly naive to imagine that the camera could solve the problem and reproduce colour as exactly as it reproduced form. Mr Bower suggests another consideration —that it takes time to appreciate the colour in a picture, and difficulty is immediately caused by the quick successiim of scenes in a film. Again there is the possibility that it has not been sufficiently considered whether the registering of colour by photographic methods corresponds sufficiently closely with that of the human eye. The introduction of colour, however, would merely mean the addition of an incidental grace to the film, with far less effect on its character than the ultimate effect of the introduction of sound. But the introduction of solidity, especially in the form Mr Bower suggests, would constitute a much more difficult problem. If the screen were turned into a stage it is doubtful if the present methods of presenting a film play would be artistically, even if technically, possible. Mr Bower’s cinema theatre would be capable of complete realism, and it is difficult to imagine the effect of instantaneous change of scene in such a medium, and even more so imagine the effect of change of viewpoint. Would it be possible to introduce a sudden close-up of an actor’s face or his hands or any other detail that can be given emphasis on the flat screen by this means without making it seem absurd? It is only necessary to imagine the effect of such methods in a stage play. The art of the film may be essentially .a pictorial one, in which the limitation, on complete realism are a constant, even if unconsciously received, reminder to the eye that what il-sees is an illusion, in which not only can the scene change instantaneously but the scale of dimension be al- - with every scene.. If the real ism were complete th ® *ncks; thtat the camera can play with time and space might seem entirely ridiculous, and the cinema theatre would have to impose °n itedf the natural restrictions of the stage, and the individuality of screen drama would be lost.