MOVING PICTURES

Greymouth Evening Star, 25 June 1927, Page 3

MOVING PICTURES

PLEA FOR FRESH START. The Parliamentary inquiry into the conditions governing the picture-show industry has already revealed so much and suggested so much fnore, that the whole question of the photo-play in its use and abuse may well have a prominent place in ’the thought of every earnest citizen of the Commonwealth (writes D. McKee Wright, in the “Sydney Morning Herald”). The relative merits of American, British, European and Australian films may, for the moment, be set aside, as may also the discussion of the means by which American pictures have secured all but a monopoly of our market. This aspect of the matter is now well under the consideration of our legislators, and we may hope for wisdom and justice in settling the rival claims to our full national advantage. It is the nature of tjie picture-show itself which should engage our most profound attention, and it is here that enlightened public opinion is most valuable.

Recent cables have told us that the Indian censorship rejects a very large number of the pictures offered. It is impossible to put before the mass of native Indians the representations of the life of civilised Europeans which make the’larger part of the film output. Such representations would bring us, and particularly our women and girls, into native contempt; and the natural inference is that either these pictures do not honestly represent civilised life, or that civilised life is a thing of shame, which we dare not openly reveal. That the latter is not the case, we may fairly assert, and the charge must therefore stand that tlie majority of the films made are a shameful distortion of reality. The thing cannot be dismissed with a inere shrug of contemptuous pity for the ignorance and narrow outlook of the Indians, for, unfortunately, our own children, and a very large number of those among us, who are not children, are in the same condition of ignorance and have the same narrowness of outlook. To falsify civilised life in the eyes of Asiatics may be politically dangerous, but who can attempt to estimate the danger of similar falsification to our own young people who, at the most impressionable age, gaze upon the horrors and absurdities of the sensational pictures shown? A short survey of the growth of the photoplay seems the best way of arriving at a clear view of the thing that it has become, and the surest methods of discovering a cure for its evils. The crude, flickering moving pictures of a little more than a generation ago came among us as toys. We went to see them, and were full of praises for the skill of human invention. Children laughed with delight at the novelty, and clamoured to see more. The shows were essentially for children, and it may be said, even today, that the demands of the children are the backbone of the whole business. But it very soon became evident that enormous numbers of grown-up people were to be counted among the children. The effort after mechanical perfection led to very rapid development. Moving pictures were taken seriously, and their educative value was everywhere discussed. While nonsense pictures of the maddest, merriest sort raced across the screen, beautiful natural scenery was also exhibited, and poor little dramas from real life won their share of praise. Soon it became obvious that the pic-ture-show could at one point surpass the regular theatre —it was unlimited in the size of its stage setting. Great spectacles, such as those Sir Augustus Harris had once displayed within the narrow compass of Drury Lane Theatre, took on reality when shown on wide-spreading hills, with real rivers, towns, and homesteads in the picture. Such spectacular displays have not wholly disappeared, but the sensational drama of distorted life now holds the main place. Even the most magnificent large-scale achievement of the screen, including the march of armies and the sacking of ancient cities, have had their interest centred on some intruding and sordid drama, which was neither good art nor a necessity of the production. The extent to which art is involved in the production of modern films is a question for serious discussion. Beyond all doubt photography has reached a very high development in some of the finer scenes shown, but, beyond this, it would seem that the artistic claim is of the slightest. In the earlier days of the picture show it appeared as if great scope might be found for' the display of certain talents of individuals; and occasional productions played in by great actresses, like Eellen Terry and Sarah Bernhardt, have proved that this might easily have been so. But the socalled art of film-making took quite another turn. The parts were taken by actors and actresses wholly ignorant of any skill save that of docile obedience to a person issuing orders.

Everything has been brought down to a strict convention. The figures in the pictures move in exactly the same way every time a particular emotion is to be portrayed. The producer re-pro-duces his own idea every time through many performers, and so small is the variation that the only individuality shown is the individuality of firms, not of actors. Yet, to keep up some pretence of art, the automata of these scenes are so widely advertised that so-called picture-stars have acquired an absurd market value. Women, who through their docility, might have been fairly good household servants, and who, by their education are fitted for no higher posts, are paid salaries which, on the evidence lately given, increase th d* costs of a picture by five hundred percent. It is thus clear that no art values have to be considered when dealing with picture reform. There is no class of trained and cultured men and women which might suffer by a sudden change. Picture stars are merely good-looking persons acting under orders, and all proof is lacking that the plays would suffer if others possessed of less regular features filled the leading roles. It is now evident beyond all possibility of question that the producer rules the whole picture show field, and that the pictures themselves cannot possibly rise above his mental level. There is nothing to prove that British films or those produced on Australian soil diffei' in this respect from those which pour over in floods from America. The picture is a photographic representation of a producer’s mind, and in most cases it is no very pleasant object to contemplate. It we are to have real pictures, we must have real acting and real actors, and, as these do not now exist in connection with film-making, it may be fairly said that the photo-play has not vet reached the level of art. For art iias been substituted a certain clevcr-

ness of appeal to the baser tastes of the least intellectual classes in the countries where the pictures are shown. Clean minds turn with disgust from the conventional screen kiss. This piece of animalism is hailed by the younger children with shouts of mirth, but to the elder children it appears as a life-lesson, approved by their seniors. It is but on item in a whole propaganda of vicious inclination which has grown inseparable from the screen.

What seems to be most urgently needed in the way of reform is an entirely new censorship. No reflection whatever is intended on the present censors. Within certain limits they have done their work excellently. The public knows what they have allowed to pass; it does not know from what they have saved us. But ; something of a much more drastic nature is required. Moving pictures are first and foremost for the entertainment of children, and of the grown-up children, whose minds are no more formed than those of their little ones. Education, and that wide culture which comes of many interests and a large knowledge of the world, are a protection against evils as crude as those, associated with the films, but the people who attend the picture theatres in largest numbers have no such protection. To prove that the picture shows, as they exist, are popular with the masses is to prove nothing worth while. The business of those who can take a broad and honest survey of the whole question is to protect the masses from the pollution which they themselves are incapable of observing or fearing. It is perfectly true that a censorship such as that suggested might ban at 'least ninety per cent, of the films now shown, but that is no argument. against it. Let the films be banned if they.are unworthy, even if a full hundred per cent, should go. It would be, indeed, most desirable that the full hundred per cent, should go, if by their condemnation the whole field could be cleared, and the industry start again cleanly on worthier lines. There is not the smallest reason why, under the strictest censorship, the photo-play should not gain rather than lose.in interest. A million dramas of simple human life, which children, young and old can witness with pleasure have yet to be played. The poetry of life has hardly touched the picture screen, and very little of its genuine comedy has been shown there. There is room for great art both in the writing of the plays and in the acting of them. The same producers who have introduced the elements of pollution have tried to satisfy their patrons with the crudest sort of humour. Everywhere, except in photograhphy, there is room on the ground of art alone, for enormous improvement. But even if no artistic or intellectual improvement should take place under a stricter censorship, the duty of Australian citizens is clear. While children attend the picture shows, and young lovers sit side by side in the darkness of the theatres, every inch of every film should be. clean and wholesome both in action and suggestion.