The Great Popcorn Spill of 2018, plus Chaney's 'Hunchback' Sunday, 10/28 in Wilton, N.H.

A legendary local disaster is the Great Molasses Flood of 1919. Seriously! Click on the link and you'll see. (But come back!)

Well, to that catastrophe we can now as the Great Popcorn Spill of 2018. Again, seriously! (But no link as of yet.)

This happened on Friday, Oct. 26 at the Regent Theatre in Arlington, Mass., a close-in suburb of Boston.

I know because not only did I witness this disaster, I actually caused it.

What happened was I was at the keyboard below the stage, playing spooky warm-up music for one of the Regent's trademark original shows. That night, it was a tribute to iconic illusionist Harry Houdini, who died on Halloween in 1926, hence the timing.

The show included 'Terror Island' (1920), one of Houdini's starring silent pictures, with me on hand to do music, preceded by two local magicians who would recreate some of Houdini's astonishing feats live on stage.

It being a Regent spectacular, I wasn't surprised that the event was reserved seating. But as I sat there spinning spooky music prior to the show, I was surprised when a couple came in and had seats right behind me.

I mean right behind me. Like there was no room for their legs with the keyboard and me taking up all the space.

But we shifted things around a bit and they were fine with it, they said. So I continued until showtime, when Leland Stein of the Regent came down to cue me to stop so he could welcome everyone and get things started.

So I stopped, playing a cheesy fanfare to give Leland at least the status of a game show host.

People applauded (because I stopped, I assumed) but then Leland encouraged further applause for the accompanist, which ensued.

Okay, I thought, preparing to artfully swing around on the piano bench and acknowledge the warm welcome. Here we go...

...and BAM! My right hand sailed straight into a gargantuan tub of popcorn being held (not very tightly) by the poor guy behind me.

Before either of us could react, an absolute ERUPTION of popcorn exploded in all directions.

It covered the guy and his companion. It covered the seat and the floor. Drifts of it buried my sustain pedal under the keyboard. Not a single kernel was left in the bucket.

And the guy just sat there, expressionless, while I began making profuse apologies, and also tried not to laugh in his face.

He really did say nothing, even as I swung off the bench and slunk below Leland, squishing popcorn underfoot, to make my way up the aisle the concession counter in the lobby.

I came back with a replacement popcorn for the guy, who still displayed no emotion or reaction, and then began kicking drifts of spilled popcorn out from under my keyboard.

At intermission I approach the couple to offer a full apology. Finally the guy responded, but not in the way I expected.

Quietly and amiably, he said: "I thought it was funny."

Whew! I thought he was quietly summoning a curse on me, but instead he found the Great Popcorn Spill of 2018 entertaining. Duly noted. For future reference: if a film doesn't seem to be connecting with an audience, try throwing food at them. (Before they start throwing it at me.)

So I'm now in the Halloween Home Stretch, having played 'Faust' (1926) last night at the Leavitt Theatre in Ogunquit, Maine, and prepping for Lon Chaney's 'Hunchback' (1923) at the Town Hall Theatre in Wilton, N.H.

After that, all that remains (remains!) is 'Phantom' at the Colonial Theatre in Keene on Halloween itself. Then I can put away the cape and fake teeth for another year.

I'm actually quite excited about 'Phantom' because it's the first of two big shows at the Colonial, which opened as a silent film theater in 1924. And the Colonial's original opening night will be recreated in January with a screening of Chaney's 'Hunchback,' the first film to play there.

More on all that in weeks to come. For now, here's the press release about this afternoon's screening of 'Hunchback' in Wilton. It's a rainy afternoon here...good weather for movie-going!

* * *

Quasimodo (Lon Chaney) is offered a drink.

THURSDAY, OCT. 4, 2018 / FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact Jeff Rapsis • (603) 236-9237 • jeffrapsis@gmail.com

Chaney as Quasimodo in 'Hunchback of Notre Dame' on Sunday, Oct. 28 at Town Hall Theatre

Just in time for Halloween: Classic silent version starring Lon Chaney as Quasimodo to be presented with live music

WILTON, N.H.—It was a spectacular combination: Lon Chaney, the actor known as the "Man of 1,000 Faces," and Universal's big screen adaptation of Victor Hugo's sprawling tale of the tortured Quasimodo.

The result was the classic silent film version of 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' (1923), which will be shown just in time for Halloween at Wilton's Town Hall Theatre

Silent film with live music returns to the Town Hall Theatre, 40 Main St., Wilton, with the thriller 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' on Sunday, Oct. 28 at 4:30 p.m.

The special Halloween program will be presented with live music by silent film accompanist Jeff Rapsis. Admission is free, with a donation of $5 per person requested to help cover expenses.

The film is based on Victor Hugo's 1831 novel, and is notable for the grand sets that recall 15th century Paris as well as for Chaney's performance and make-up as the tortured hunchback Quasimodo.

The film elevated Chaney, already a well-known character actor, to full star status in Hollywood, and also helped set a standard for many later horror films, including Chaney's 'The Phantom of the Opera' in 1925.

While Quasimodo is but one of many interconnecting characters in the original Hugo novel, he dominates the narrative of this expensive Universal production.

In the story, Jehan (Brandon Hurst), the evil brother of the archdeacon, lusts after a Gypsy named Esmeralda (Patsy Ruth Miller) and commands the hunchback Quasimodo (Chaney) to capture her.

Military captain Phoebus (Norman Kerry) also loves Esmeralda and rescues her, but the Gypsy is not unsympathetic to Quasimodo's condition, and an unlikely bond forms between them.

After vengeful Jehan frames Esmeralda for the attempted murder of Phoebus, Quasimodo's feelings are put to the test in a spectacular climax set in and around the Cathedral of Notre Dame.

As the hunchbacked bellringer Quasimodo, Chaney adorned himself with a special device that made his cheeks jut out grotesquely; a contact lens that blanked out one of his eyes; and, most painfully, a huge rubber hump covered with coarse animal fur and weighing anywhere from 30 to 50 pounds.

Chaney deeply identified with Quasimodo, the deformed bell-ringer at Notre Dame Cathedral who was deafened by his work. Chaney was raised by deaf parents and did a lot of his communication with mom and dad through pantomime.

“The idea of doing the picture was an old one of mine and I had studied Quasimodo until I knew him like a brother, knew every ghoulish impulse of his heart and all the inarticulate miseries of his soul,” Chaney told an interviewer with Movie Weekly magazine in 1923.

“Quasimodo and I lived together—we became one. At least so it has since seemed to me. When I played him, I forgot my own identity completely and for the time being lived and suffered with the Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

The film was a major box office hit for Universal Studios, and Chaney's performance continues to win accolades even today.

"An awe-inspiring achievement, featuring magnificent sets (built on the Universal backlot), the proverbial cast of thousands (the crowd scenes are mesmerizing) and an opportunity to catch Lon Chaney at his most commanding," wrote critic Matt Brunson of Creative Loafing in 2014.

Screening this classic version of 'Hunchback' provides local audiences the opportunity to experience silent film as it was intended to be shown: on the big screen, in restored prints, with live music, and with an audience.

"If you can put pieces of the experience back together again, it's surprising how these films snap back to life," said Rapsis, a New Hampshire-based silent film accompanist who creates music for silent film screenings at venues around the country.

"By showing the films as they were intended, you can really get a sense of why people first fell in love with the movies."

In creating music for silent films, Rapsis performs on a digital synthesizer that reproduces the texture of the full orchestra and creates a traditional "movie score" sound.

'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' (1923) starring Lon Chaney, will be screened with live music on Sunday, Oct. 28 at 4:30 p.m. at the Wilton Town Hall Theatre, 40 Main St., Wilton, N.H.

Admission is free; a donation of $5 per person is requested to help defray expenses. For more info, call (603) 654-3456 or visit www.wiltontownhalltheatre.com.

Taking a different approach to Halloween: this year, no plan or pattern whatsoever!

Let's see. Tomorrow it's Frankenstein. Friday it's Houdini. On Saturday, it's Satan. And Sunday, a Hunchback.

With an appointment calendar like that, Halloween can't be far off. And sure enough, the big day itself arrives Wednesday next week, when I have a date with the Phantom of the Opera.

It's the busiest time of the year for silent film accompaniment. The calendar is packed with screenings for boys and ghouls in search of an other-worldly experience.

Hence I'm keeping appointments with everyone from the Vampire Nosferatu to Mephistopheles, a.k.a. Satan.

This variety is a change for me. For previous Halloweens, I've generally picked one film to concentrate on accompanying, and then taken it around to all the various venues looking for a silent film spook fix.

Also, I tried to focus on films that aren't shown as often as the two biggies: Murnau's 'Nosferatu' (1922) and Lon Chaney's 'Phantom of the Opera' (1925).

So one year it was Alfred Hitchcock's early silent thriller 'The Lodger' (1927). Another year it was 'The Cat and the Canary' (1927), Paul Leni's Gothic haunted house picture. And another year it was Barrymore's 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde' (1920).

By concentrating on one film for Halloween and taking it on tour, so to speak, I could really get to know the picture, and so burnish the improv-based accompaniment to a high gloss.

Well, not this year. This time around, it's a different title for nearly every screening. The only repeats: two Phantoms and two Hunchbacks. Otherwise, it's one-offs throughout the season.

Which I don't mind. It's a different kind of challenge to create music for a variety of films, one after another. And I've always felt that for me, the key to doing it well was doing it a lot.

That's what happened last week, which included a four-day stretch of shows in three different states. On Thursday in Massachusetts, it was 'Hunchback of Notre Dame,' followed by 'Wings' (a non-Halloween title!) on Friday up in Maine. Then on Saturday, it was the German thriller 'Der Golem' (1921) over in Vermont then on Sunday 'The Phantom of the Opera' down in Massachusetts again.

And I have to say, but by the time I sat down at the keyboard on Sunday night at the Aeronaut Brewing Co. in Somerville, Mass., I felt I was playing with a fluency and ease that simply wasn't present when I started the four-day run.

So doing it a lot, and mixing up the titles to challenge myself, really seems to work for me.

Does it work for you? Find out by attending one of the upcoming Halloween screenings on my calendar:

• Wednesday, Oct. 24, 2018, 7 p.m.: "Frankenstein program" at the Regent Theatre, 7 Medford St., Arlington, Mass.; (781) 646-4849. A triple feature of Frankenstein films, including the early (and short) silent Thomas Edison version. Tickets $8 per person. For more info: www.regenttheatre.com.

• Friday, Oct. 26, 2018, 8 p.m. "Harry Houdini Celebration"; Regent Theatre, 7 Medford St., Arlington, Mass.; (781) 646-4849. Celebrate the birthday of Harry Houdini, legendary illusionist and escape artist, with an evening that combines live performance with a silent film starring Houdini himself as a James Bond-like action/adventure hero. Silent film with live music in a treasured neighborhood theater and performance space. Tickets $15 in advance, $20 at door. For more info: www.regenttheatre.com.

• Saturday, Oct. 27, 2018, 7 p.m.: "Faust" (1926) directed by F.W. Murnau, starring Emil Jannings; Leavitt Theatre, 259 Main St. Route 1, Ogunquit, Maine; (207) 646-3123; http://www.leavittheatre.com. Join us for another season of vintage cinema at the historic Leavitt Theatre. Emil Jannings stars in F.W. Murnau's terrifying version of the classic tale. A visual tour de force, full of creepy characters and frightening images. See great silent films with live music in a summer-only theater opened in 1923 and barely changed since. Admission $10 per person.

• Sunday, Oct. 28, 2018, 4:30 p.m.: "Hunchback of Notre Dame" (1923) starring Lon Chaney; Wilton Town Hall Theatre, Main Street, Wilton, N.H.; (603) 654-3456; www.wiltontownhalltheatre.com. Just in time for Halloween! Lon Chaney stars in the original screen adaptation of Victor Hugo's classic novel about a deformed bellringer in medieval Paris. A moving and timeless drama filled with classic scenes and capped with a thrilling climax! Monthly series of silent films with live music at a theater where movies have been shown since 1912! Admission free, donations of $5 per person encouraged.

• Wednesday, Oct. 31, 2018, 7 p.m.: "The Phantom of the Opera" (1925) starring Lon Chaney; Colonial Theatre, 95 Main Street, Keene, N.H.; (603) 352-2033; www.thecolonial.org. Celebrate Halloween with one of the all-time classics. Long before Andrew Lloyd Webber created the hit stage musical, this silent film adaptation starring Lon Chaney helped place 'Phantom' firmly in the pantheon of both horror and romance. Silent film with live music in a theater that originally opened as a silent movie house in 1924. Tickets: $6.50 per person, general admission.

Musical adventures in public schools: Accompanying silent film and a live 'Hunchback'

Buster and his army of would-be brides can still crack up the middle school crowd.

Did you know kids don't learn to read or write in cursive anymore?

Well, school is where you're supposed to learn, and that's something I learned last week during a spate of accompaniment gigs that took me to a couple of local public schools.

The revelation that kids aren't learning cursive came during a screening of Buster Keaton's 'Seven Chances' (1925) at Antrim (N.H.) Town Hall, where each spring I do a program for students at nearby Great Brook Middle School.

When Buster's girlfriend composes a simple handwritten note on-camera, I was surprised when the program's coordinator, Mrs. Maryanne Cullinan, read the note out loud "for those of you who don't know cursive."

Don't know cursive? Really? Turns out that cursive has apparently become a casualty of the keyboard. Districts in all parts of the nation have quietly abandoned the teaching of cursive, which is seen as increasingly irrelevant and not worth the time and effort. "Keyboarding" is in, cursive is out.

Wow! Onward marches the human race, I guess. But that's one more little thing that makes silent film more of a curiosity that has to be explained. (The same thing could be said about me as well!) I used to imagine myself in old age reminiscing about getting through college using a typewriter and Korect-O-Type. Now I can add "we used to read and write in cursive, too" to my old fogy repertoire.

The good news is that unfamiliarity with cursive didn't stop the students from completely embracing 'Seven Chances.' Yes, they made some funny noises when Buster and his gal kissed on-screen (it's middle school, after all), but they were fully engaged from start to finish. The last 15 minutes (culminating with the rock slide) was greeted by constant, astonished laughter, to borrow a phrase from Walter Kerr's great book 'The Silent Clowns.'

Odd that Keaton himself thought so little of 'Seven Chances,' when I've found that audiences totally buy it. It, well, rocks. I'm looking forward to doing music for it at the next Buster Keaton Festival in Iola, Kansas this coming September, when I'm slated to be the house accompanist. (Hey, another rock reference!)

Another recent public school project wasn't silent film, but a distant cousin. It was doing underscoring for a live action high school play.

Last fall, I got a call from Fran White, who's in charge of the theater program at Merrimack (N.H.) High School, which is the town next door to where I live.

For her spring production, Fran was staging a dramatic adaptation of 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame,' and wanted to know if I'd provide musical underscoring to help it all hold together. She knew of me, and knew of the Lon Chaney silent film version, so I got the call.

The dates were open, so I didn't hesitate. Yes! I had just finished accompanying several presentations of 'The Moving Panorama,' a 19th century tapestry depicting the story of John Bunyan's 'A Pilgrim's Progress.' Presented by a museum in Saco, Maine, it was an interesting change of pace from silent film accompaniment, and I thought the high school production of 'Notre Dame' would be equally absorbing.

So next thing I knew, it was May, and I was being fingerprinted in the basement of the superintendent of school's office, a prerequisite for working with kids in the public schools these days. They'd been rehearsing for a couple of months, so the show was pretty much all together by the time I came on scene.

Some of the 'Hunchback' cast on stage prior to a run-through.

All it took was one session with Fran to go over where music was required (scene changes and the like), and then she left the rest up to me. So I set up my Korg synthesizer and there I was, doing what I usually do in a darkened theater, only now with real live actors and actresses on stage, and actually speaking lines!

And I found that the same dramatic instincts developed in supporting silent film also apply to stage productions, with the exception of the need for continuous music. And a little goes a long way: just throwing a bass note underneath an ominous scene can add a whole extra dimension to what's happening onstage.

So sometimes it's more like sound effects or atmosphere rather than full musical accompaniment. Interesting, and something I'd like to work on back in the silent film arena.

Because it was a stage play and not a musical, I had to be careful to avoid overdoing the music. And I had to be extra careful about not covering up any spoken lines, which I did by trying to keep any underscoring in different ranges than the voices of the characters. After we'd run through the show a couple of times, the only request Fran had was for me to not do any music during scenes with just two characters.

I really liked the way she put it: that the music was so strong and had such a presence that it was like a whole additional character, and so was too much for those scenes. Now there's someone who should work for the state department!

And the kids were great! Many cast members were seniors, and so the end-of-year sense of excitement was palpable. I'd lost track of what that felt like, but there it was! The whole scene brought back the best vibes of when I did a lot of theater, including playing Billy Bigelow in my senior class production of 'Carousel.' (I had hoped we would do Sweeney Todd, but no dice.)

My God, was that 30 years ago? But there we were all over again, reinvented as students at Merrimack High School, and now putting on 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame.'

If you worry or wonder about young people today, do what I did. Find a way to be involved in a local high school. It'll reaffirm the idea that most kids are capable and considerate young people with good heads on their shoulders and as full of dreams and possibilities as you were at that stage in life. (And I hope you still are.)

As I say about the college classes I teach, I get as much if not more from the students than they get from me. The same thing was true about doing 'Hunchback' at Merrimack High School. It was a very rewarding experience, and a thrill to help them put on a show that drew strong audience reaction for all three performances.

So best of luck to the graduates! I really enjoyed working with everyone, I hope you have a great summer, and to those going into the healthcare field, I really look forward to someday reminiscing about my typewriter while you care for me in some nursing home of the future. :)