Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts

Thursday, September 27, 2018

From Russia to Chicago: a geographically diverse double-header of silents this weekend


Let's hear it for cartographical diversity!

On Saturday, I'll accompany 'The Last Command' (1928), a Russian Revolution drama, at fitting venue: the Museum of Russian Icons in Clinton, Mass. (More about that in a bit.) Showtime is at 2 p.m.; the press release with more info is pasted in below.

And then on Sunday, it's the original silent film version of 'Chicago' (1927), which is this month's silent film show at the Town Hall Theatre in Wilton, N.H.


For this one, I plan on using the theater's acoustic piano for some important scenes in which a player piano cranks along in the background. For the rest of the score, it'll be the usual full orchestra texture from the digital synthesizer. But in the "live effects" department, I'll also use jingly bells at a few points where they play a significant on-screen role.

Showtime for 'Chicago' is 4:30 p.m. and admission is free, with donations kindly accepted.

As different as these films are, I'm looking forward to both. 'The Last Command,' with a towering performance from Emil Jannings, is one of the best films of any period. it's always a thrill to accompany it, but it's especially cool to be doing so at the Museum of Russian Icons.


What is the Museum of Russian Icons, you may ask? Well, even if you didn't, let me tell you: it's a wonderful museum in an old mill building that houses a spectacular assemblage of Russian icons, the core of which was assembled by a local collector, as well as many other things.

They run a wide range of programming, and that includes movies. Earlier this year, I was approached by an Icon Museum staffer who asked about doing a silent film with live music. We got talking about the "Russian Revolution" sub-genre of silent dramas, romantic and otherwise, and here we are.

And what's great about this, I think, is that the audience is likely to be people who have never seen or experienced this film, or any silent film of any kind. What an introduction to the timeless power and eloquence of this art form!

Phyllis Haver tears up the screen—and the room—in 'Chicago.'

And then 'Chicago'—well, that's just going to be a hoot and a half. In this case, it's a story that most people know already from the long-running Broadway musical or the 2002 movie, which won 'Best Picture.'

So what a surprise to find that there's a silent film version of the story, and that it's a crackerjack ripped-from-the-headlines adaptation of the original play that started it all! What's more, it was made right in the era the story is set, so it has an unmatched immediacy and authenticity that's still palpable even today.

Hope to see you at the Wilton Town Hall Theatre on Sunday at 4:30 p.m.

And if you'd like more info on 'The Last Command' at the Museum of Russian Icons, here's the press release.

* * *

Emil Jannings won the first-ever 'Best Actor' Academy Award in part for his performance in 'The Last Command.'

WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 19, 2018 / FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact Jeff Rapsis • (603) 236-9237 • jeffrapsis@gmail.com

Silent epic 'The Last Command' with live music at Museum of Russian Icons on Saturday, Sept. 29

Russian Revolution picture from 1928 won 'Best Actor' for Emil Jannings at first-ever Academy Awards

CLINTON, Mass.—'The Last Command' (1928), a silent film drama that won Emil Jannings 'Best Actor' honors at the first-ever Academy Awards, will be screened with live music on Saturday, Sept. 29 at 2 p.m. at the Museum of Russian Icons, 203 Union St., Clinton, Mass.

Admission is $12 for members, $18 for non-members. Register by calling (978) 598-5000 ext. 121 or pay at the door.

'The Last Command,' directed by Josef von Sternberg, tells the sweeping story of a powerful general in Czarist Russia (Jannings) forced to flee his homeland during the Bolshevik Revolution. He emigrates to America, where he is reduced to living in poverty.

Evelyn Brent and Emil Jannings in 'The Last Command,' the 'Before' picture...

Finding work as an extra at a Hollywood studio, the former general lands the part of a commanding officer in a movie about the Revolution, causing flashbacks to his traumatic experiences. The conflict leads to a spectacular climax and a towering performance that earned Jannings 'Best Actor' honors.

The film takes audiences on a journey through big emotions as well as issues of history, time, power, and especially a man's duty to his country and to his fellow citizens—and what happens when the two obligations diverge.

...and now, the 'After' picture.

'The Last Command' is also one of early Hollywood's most creative and challenging looks at the global conflicts that contributed to World War I, which ended 100 years ago this fall.

The film also stars a young William Powell as a Hollywood movie director who crosses paths with the general during the Revolution, and 1920s starlet Evelyn Brent as a seductive Russian revolutionary.

Live music for the screening will be provided by Jeff Rapsis, a New Hampshire-based musician recognized as one of the nation's leading silent film accompanists.

Rapsis will create the film's score live as the movie is shown by improvising music based on original melodies created beforehand.

"Making up the music on the spot is kind of a high wire act," Rapsis said. "But there's nothing like the energy and excitement that comes with improvised live performance, especially when accompanying a silent film."

Rapsis accompanies films using a digital synthesizer to recreate the texture of a full orchestra.

Critic Leonard Maltin hailed 'The Last Command' as "a stunning silent drama...a fascinating story laced with keen observations of life and work in Hollywood." Time Out of London called it "the first Sternberg masterpiece, expertly poised between satire and 'absurd' melodrama. The cast are fully equal to it; Jannings, in particular, turns the characteristic role of the general into an indelible portrait of arrogance, fervour and dementia."

Director Sternberg, a master of lighting and black-and-white photography, created 'The Last Command' as a visual tour de force. The film is often cited as a prime example of the emotional range and visual accomplishment of silent films at their height, just prior to the coming of pictures with recorded soundtracks.

Rapsis said great silent film dramas such as 'The Last Command' told stories that concentrate on the "big" emotions such as Love, Despair, Anger, and Joy. Because of this, audiences continue to respond to them in the 21st century, especially if they're presented as intended—in a theater on the big screen, with a live audience and live music.

"Dramas such as 'The Last Command' were created to be consumed as a communal experience," Rapsis said. "With an audience and live music, they come to life as their creators intended them to. This screening at the Museum of Russian Icons is a great chance to experience films that first caused people to fall in love with the movies."

'The Last Command' (1928) will be screened with live music on Saturday, Sept. 29 at 2 p.m. at the Museum of Russian Icons, 203 Union St., Clinton, Mass. Admission is members $12, non-members $18. Register by calling (978) 598-5000 ext. 121 or pay at the door. For more info, visit visit www.museumofrussianicons.org. For more information about the music, visit www.jeffrapsis.com.

Saturday, June 9, 2018

Accompanying 'Chicago' on Sunday, June 10: music ON screen and off, and all that jazz...


It's one of the many cases where people's response is, "There's a silent film version of that?"

The answer is yes, there is a silent film version of 'Chicago' (1927), originally a stage play and later a hit Broadway musical and then a movie musical that won 'Best Picture' in 2002.

And I'll be doing music for a screening of it tomorrow (Sunday, June 10) at 2 p.m. as the latest installment of the "Silents, Please!" series at the Somerville Theatre, Davis Square, Somerville, Mass.

Details about the film and the screening are in the press release at the bottom of this post.

For now, let me point out that in addition to being one of those silent films that people are surprised to hear exists, 'Chicago' is also one of those pictures that's tricky for an accompanist because of the key role that music plays on-screen during the film.

The most notable example (and I'm being vague here so as not to spoil it for anyone) is the player piano in an apartment. Something really terrible happens in that apartment, and when it does, the camera cuts to...the player piano, grinding along as if nothing happened.

It's a powerful visual device. But if the accompanist isn't ready, it won't have the intended impact. So a little preparation is in order to bring the effect to life, I think.

It's especially important for the way I operate, as I generally shy away from the "rinky-tink piano" sound that so many people associate with early cinema.

But in the case of 'Chicago,' it's exactly what's called for, I think, for the scene to work: while big stuff happens off-screen, the piano grinds along mechanically and mindlessly.

Will it all come off successfully? Attend tomorrow's screening and we'll all find out together.

The presentation, by the way, will not be via 35mm print as the Somerville's big "House 1" is currently showing a 70mm print of '2001,' and so we've been bumped to a smaller house.

They CAN run 35mm in our substitute house, but only via platter, so that rules out archival 35mm prints.

So, for this one screening only, we'll be making use of a recently produced DCP version of 'Chicago.'

I understand the value of showing 35mm prints whenever possible, and I support and admire the Somerville's commitment to that practice.

However, in the case of silents, really good prints—prints that show the films off to their best advantage—are often very hard to come by.

So I'm very much looking forward to seeing this restoration of 'Chicago,' as it should look great, and we'd probably not be able to program the title otherwise.

* * *

Phyllis Haver co-stars with a gun in 'Chicago' (1927), the silent film version of the well-known tale.

TUESDAY, MAY 29, 2018 / FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact Jeff Rapsis • (603) 236-9237 • jeffrapsis@gmail.com

Original silent film version of 'Chicago' to screen Sunday, June 10 at Somerville Theatre


Popular jazz-age melodrama, long thought lost but then rediscovered, to be shown on the big screen with live music

SOMERVILLE, Mass.—Long before it became a long-running Broadway musical and then 2002's Best Picture, the story of 'Chicago' first achieved worldwide fame as hit silent film.

Noted for its cynical humor and adult themes, early movie-goers loved how the original 'Chicago' captured the anything-goes flavor of the jazz age at its height.

See for yourself when the original 1927 screen version of 'Chicago' is screened at the Somerville Theatre on Sunday, June 10 at 2 p.m.

The program, the latest in the Somerville's 'Silents, Please!' series, will be accompanied by live music performed by silent film composer Jeff Rapsis. Admission is $15 per person, $12 students/seniors.

The film will be presented in DCP format.


'Chicago' tells the jazz age story of gold digger Roxie Hart, a young wife who guns down her older lover and is then put on trial for murder.

With Roxie represented by a publicity-hungry lawyer, and with prosecution the hands of an ambitious district attorney, the courtroom drama hits the spotlight and scandalizes the country as the nation awaits an answer to the question: Is she innocent, or headed for the slammer?

The silent film version of 'Chicago,' based on a hit 1926 stage play, was for many years thought to be one of the many silent films that were completely lost, with no copies surviving in any archive.

But in 2006, a pristine original print of the film was discovered in the archives of iconic director Cecil B. DeMille, who supervised its production.

DeMille personally supervised the shooting of 'Chicago,' but refused to take directorial credit for the lurid melodrama because its message clashed severely with DeMille's high-minded Biblical epic 'King of Kings,' then playing in theaters.

The film stars veteran actors Phyllis Haver as Roxie Hart; Victor Varconi as her long-suffering husband; Eugene Pallette as her lover; and Robert Edeson as the lawyer who takes on Roxie's case. Directing credit was given to Frank Urson.

The resurfacing of the original screen version of 'Chicago' after eight decades was regarded as a major cinematic rediscovery.

In reviewing the film, critic Jamie S. Rich of www.dvdtalk.com called it a "melodrama that remains fun to watch even 80 years later. It's more than a historical curio or an antiquated prototype for its more famous descendant; DeMille's production is stylishly ambitious and smartly constructed. This loose-limbed crime story is evidence of just how assured cinema had become prior to the advent of sound."

Other critics singled out the performance of Phyllis Haver as the film's highlight.

"Chicago impresses by its modern sensibility; its no-holds-barred look at love, lust, law, social mores, and the media; and especially by its delightfully amoral heroine, played to perfection by former Mack Sennett Bathing Beauty Phyllis Haver," wrote Andre Soares of the Alternative Film Guide.

"All in all, in spite of the moralistic ending Chicago holds up remarkably well as a jaded (or perhaps just plain lucid) take on sex and power in American society, dealing with issues that are as relevant today as they were yesteryear," Soares wrote.

The story was used again in 'Roxie' (1942), a Hollywood remake starring Ginger Rogers, before being reshaped into 'Chicago,' the hit 1975 musical by John Kander and Fred Ebb. A Broadway revival that opened in 1996 is still running, and was the basis for a film version that won the 2002 Academy Award for Best Picture.

In reviving the original 'Chicago,' the Somerville Theatre aims to show silent movies as they were meant to be seen—in high quality prints, on a large screen, with live music, and with an audience.

"All those elements are important parts of the silent film experience," said Jeff Rapsis, who will improvise a musical score during the screening. "Recreate those conditions, and the classics of early cinema leap back to life. They all featured great stories with compelling characters and universal appeal, so it's no surprise that they hold up and we still respond to them."

Rapsis performs on a digital synthesizer that reproduces the texture of the full orchestra and creates a traditional "movie score" sound.

Upcoming programs in the Somerville's silent film series include:

• Sunday, July 8: 'The Docks of New York' (1928). Masterful drama about a ship laborer who rescues a beautiful woman from drowning, but then finds his life changed in unexpected ways. A gem from the late silent years. Shown via 35mm print.

• Sunday, Aug. 12: a selection of Laurel & Hardy's rarely screened silent comedies, all in 35mm prints from the Library of Congress, including 'Big Business' (1929), 'The Finishing Touch' (1928), 'You're Darn Tootin'' (1928), and 'Call of the Cuckoos' (1927).

‘Chicago' (1927) will be shown on Sunday, June 10 at 2 p.m. at the Somerville Theatre, 55 Davis Square, Somerville, Mass. Tickets are $15 adults, $12 students/seniors. For more information, visit www.somervilletheatre.com or call (617) 625-4088. For more info on the music, visit www.jeffrapsis.com.

Friday, June 8, 2018

Country accompanist, city accompanist: 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' in the back woods on 6/9, then 'Chicago' at the Somerville Theatre 6/10

Buster Keaton stars in 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' (1928), screening on Saturday, June 9 in Brandon, Vt.

This weekend brings silent film screenings in two rather different settings.

On Saturday, June 9, it's up to Brandon, Vt. (about 20 minutes north of Rutland, ayup) to accompany a silent film program featuring Buster Keaton's 'Steamboat Bill, Jr.' (1928).

And then on Sunday, June 10, it's down to Somerville, Mass. (about 20 minutes south of Woburn, yessir), where I'll do music for a screening of the silent film version of 'Chicago' (1927) at the Somerville Theatre.

The 'Steamboat Bill' screening is part of an annual silent film series at the Brandon Town Hall. I'm looking forward to it, mostly because I enjoy the audience reactions in Brandon, but also because 'Steamboat' is the first full-length silent film for which I'm writing out and orchestrating a score.

So while Saturday's accompaniment will still be improvised, I'll use themes and ideas that are a little more set in place, so to speak.

Hope to get the score finished later this year. But you don't have to wait to attend this weekend's screening, which is on Saturday, June 9 at 7 p.m. at Brandon Town Hall.

More info in the press release. And more info on 'Chicago' in a separate post to come later.

* * *

Weather for Saturday's screening: stormy in the final reels.

TUESDAY, MAY 29, 2018 / FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
For more info, contact: Jeff Rapsis • (603) 236-9237 • jeffrapsis@gmail.com

Silent comedy 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' at Brandon Town Hall on Saturday, June 9


Buster Keaton masterpiece to be screened with live music as Town Hall's annual Silent Film series continues

BRANDON, Vt. — Silent film with live music returns to Brandon Town Hall this month with 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' (1928), a classic comedy starring Buster Keaton, one of era's top performers.

'Steamboat Bill Jr.' will be revived for one showing only at Brandon Town Hall on Saturday, June 9 at 7 p.m. Admission is free and the family-friendly program is open to all; free will donations will go to ongoing building renovation and restoration work.

Live music will be provided by silent film accompanist Jeff Rapsis.

The series allows local movie-goers to experience silent film the way its makers originally intended: on the big screen, with live music, and with an audience.

"If you put the experience back together, you can see why movies caused such excitement," said Dennis Marden, president of the Friends of Brandon Town Hall.

In 'Steamboat Bill Jr.,' Buster plays the bumbling son of a riverboat’s rough captain. When a rival brings a newer boat to the river, the family is forced to face competition, just as Buster is forced to ride out a cyclone threatening to destroy the community.

Can Buster save the day and win the hand of his girlfriend, who happens to be daughter of his father's business rival?

The film includes the famous shot of an entire building front collapsing on Keaton, who is miraculously spared by a conveniently placed second-story window.

Buster tries on hats for his on-screen dad, Ernest Torrence, in 'Steamboat Bill, Jr.'

Keaton, who grew up performing with the family vaudeville act, was known for never smiling on camera, an important element of his comic identity. A trained acrobat who learned at an early age how to take falls, Keaton did all his own stunts on camera in the era before post-production special effects.

Critics continue to hail Keaton’s timeless comedy as well as his intuitive filmmaking genius. In 2002, Roger Ebert wrote of Keaton that “in an extraordinary period from 1920 to 1929, he worked without interruption on a series of films that make him, arguably, the greatest actor-director in the history of the movies.”

Keaton, who never attended school, did not think of himself as an artist but as an entertainer using the new medium of motion pictures to tell stories and create laughter.

The screening of 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' will feature live accompaniment by Jeff Rapsis, a New Hampshire-based composer who specializes in creating music for silent film presentations.

Rapsis will create the accompaniment on the spot, improvising music as the movie unfolds to enhance the action on the screen as well respond to audience reactions. He will perform the music on a digital synthesizer capable of producing a wide range of theatre organ and orchestral textures.

"Live music was an integral part of the silent film experience," Rapsis said. "Because most films at the time weren't released with sheet music or scores, studios depended on local musicians to come up with an effective score that was different in every theater. At its best, this approach created an energy and a connection that added a great deal to a film's impact. That's what I try to recreate," Rapsis said.

Also on the bill are two Buster Keaton short comedies. The program is sponsored by Nancy and Gary Meffe.

Other shows in this year's Brandon silent film series include:

• Saturday, June 30: 'The Adventures of Prince Achmed' (1926). Taken from 'The Arabian Nights,' the first full-length animated feature tells the story of a wicked sorcerer who tricks Prince Achmed into mounting a magical flying horse, sending him off to a series of wondrous and romantic adventures. Sponsored by Pam and Steve Douglass.

• Saturday, Aug. 11: 'Laurel & Hardy: A Silent Fine Mess.' The beloved comedy team got their start in silent film, and so celebrate their origins with a selection of their funniest short comedies. Get ready to laugh as Stan and Ollie made fine messes out of everything from a day in the country to a night on the town. Sponsored by the Brandon/Forestdale Lions Club.

• Saturday, Sept. 8: 'Sherlock Holmes' (1916) starring William Gillette. Recently discovered in France after being lost for nearly a century, see this original 1916 adaptation of Sherlock Holmes stories as performed by William Gillette, the actor who created the role on stage and performed it more than 1,000 times. Sponsored by Kathy and Bill Mathis, in memory of Maxine Thurston; also an anonymous donor.

• Saturday, Oct. 20: Chiller Theatre, 'Der Golem' (1920). In 16th-century Prague, a rabbi creates a giant creature from clay, called the Golem. Using sorcery, he brings the creature to life in order to protect the Jews of Prague from persecution, but then complications ensue. Early German fantasy movie anticipates Frankenstein story. Sponsored by Jan Coolidge, Lucy and Dick Rouse, Marc & Arlyn Briere, Dorothy Leyseth and Edward Loedding.

Buster Keaton's classic comedy 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' (1928) will be screened on Saturday, June 9 at 7 p.m. at the Brandon Town Hall and Community Center, Route 7, in Brandon, Vt. All are welcome to this family-friendly event. Admission is free, with free will donations accepted in support of ongoing Town Hall renovations.

For more information, visit www.brandontownhall.org.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

In which I get into Harvard University;
plus reviews, radio interviews, and more

Phyllis Hart stars in 'Chicago' (1927), a silent film that got a recent thumbs-up from a college newspaper.

Some great Halloween screenings coming up, but first a few updates from the present:

• An unexpected review: I've just found a wonderful review of our screening of the silent film version of 'Chicago' (1927) earlier this month at the Flying Monkey Moviehouse and Performance Center up in Plymouth, N.H.

It's by Sarah Liebowitz of 'The Clock' (the student paper of Plymouth State University) and I think she did a great job capturing the spirit of the film and its ability to reach audiences today, even those unfamiliar with silent cinema.

Me, I'm the choir. I certainly believe in the timeless power of silent film. But it's really heartening and encouraging to seed others discover this on their own.

Thank you for making my day, Sarah. If you come to 'Phantom of the Opera' at the Monkey later this month, please stop by to say hi!

The back end of the Carpenter Center at Harvard, including the doors through which I lug my digital synthesizer and sound gear.

• Playing at Harvard: I continue the head-spinning experience of going down to Harvard University to do live music for a variety of silent film screenings. I've done three in the past few weeks, and three more are coming up, including one later this afternoon.

Why head-spinning? Because as music-crazed teenager in Nashua, N.H., I was immersing myself in material such as Igor Stravinsky's Charles Elliot Norton Lectures at Harvard, and so always thought of the place as a citadel of American musical culture.

I never got to attend, of course, and later shelved my musical ambitions for the word game. So I never expected, all this time later, to be coming down to campus and playing my own stuff where the like of idols such as Leonard Bernstein and Elliot Carter and Aaron Copland and John Adams (the composer, and the founding father) once hung out.

It's a great honor, a real satisfaction, and a genuine thrill. 'Nuf said. (But I want to thank David Pendleton of the Harvard Film Archive, Heidi Bliss of Harvard's Department of Visual and Environmental Studies, and everyone else who has played a part in this adventure so far.)

The screenings take place at the Le Corbius-designed Carpenter Center in an environment that's pretty luxurious compared to the town halls where I often ply my trade. In a real plus for silent film, the booth is equipped with 35mm projectors that can run variable speed! Also, in an unheard-of luxury, able projectionist Clayton Mattos will often check with me (before and during a screening) about a film's running speed.

A classier front-end view of the Carpenter Center, the only structure in North America designed by Le Corbius, the 20th century oracle of architectural modernism (and big fan of concrete.)

Last Wednesday night, I accompanied 'The Big Parade' (1925) for a class taught by Harvard Prof. Tom Conley. The print was the Harvard Film Archive's very own gorgeous 35mm print, and the screening was open to the public, so we had a nice turnout.

Because it was 'The Big Parade,' I pulled out all the stops, bringing down the digital synthesizer and staging what I thought was a suitable soundtrack to scenes of World War I trench fighting. (In other words, KABOOM!)

And, despite my need for a bathroom break just when the soldiers were being called up to the front, it was one of those magical screenings where a film seems to completely absorb an audience.

Even better, it was not the usual silent film crowd, but a mix of people who may not have been expecting the experience that King Vidor and company had planned for them nearly a century ago.

I often say silent film is about the big emotions, as demonstrated here by John Gilbert and Renee Adoree in 'The Big Parade.'

I have to admit I was pleased how most of the score came out. I think I hit all the big moments, and was especially happy at how the well-known "departure" sequence came together, with Renee Adoree hanging onto the truck taking John Gilbert to the front. And I found myself quite overcome (SPOILER ALERT!) during the final sequence, when the pair are finally reunited.

So after "The End," despite three hours at the keyboard, I couldn't help but stand up and thank everyone for helping to collaborate in bringing 'The Big Parade' to life, and encourage them to understand that to really experience the full power of silent film, this was the way to do it: in a theater, on the big screen, with live music, and with an audience.

It was only then that I remembered that this was Prof. Conley's class, not my personal forum. But the professor was nodding his head in agreement, and later thanked me for the performance, so I trust I didn't tred on any Ivy League toes.

And it was a real rush to talk with attendees afterwards, some of whom have actual music backgrounds! One woman, Peggy Wang, a Boston-area violinist, seemed completely enthralled with the whole experience. It's interactions such as this that make all the efforts at creating effective accompaniment worthwhile.

We'll see what I can do later today with screenings of the Epstein/Bunuel version of 'The Fall of the House of Usher' (1928) and 'The Smiling Madame Buedet' (1928). The titles are being run today at 4 p.m. at the Carpenter Center as part of a class in silent cinema led by Adam Hart.

Later, on Sunday, Nov. 2, I'm doing music for a double bill of obscure silent Fritz Lang titles being screened by the Harvard Film Archive, which runs an ambitious schedule of repertory programs in the same theater.

The program is at 7 p.m. and includes 'The Wandering Image' (1921) and 'Fighting Hearts' (1922), both of which are new to me. The Lang films lend themselves to my musical strengths, I think (the big gesture), so I'm looking forward to helping bring them to life.

A scene from Fritz Lang's early film 'The Wandering Image' (1921), considered lost for decades until a print was discovered in Brazil.

And then on Tuesday, Nov. 4, a new challenge beckons at the Carpenter Center: my first-ever Japanese silent, "I Was Born, But..." (1932), directed by Yasujiro Ozu. I'm very much looking forward to scoring this one, as it's an unusual film with a whole different sensibility than most silent cinema. I'm not sure what I'll do just yet, but I hope to create music that brings this quality out.

The only downside to this whole adventure has been fighting the traffic in and out of Boston. The Harvard folks have been great in terms of arranging parking passes and the like. But they can't do much about road construction on Memorial Drive, which I think has been going on since the silent film era.

The upside to this, however, is that I'm developing a much better understanding of the small one-way streets of Cambridge, Mass. Need directions?

Virginia Prescott of New Hampshire Public Radio's 'Word of Mouth.'

• On the radio: Tomorrow (Wednesday, Oct. 22), I've been invited to drop by the studios of New Hampshire Public Radio for a pre-Halloween segment with Virginia Prescott, host of the station's popular "Word of Mouth" program.

It's a real treat to do this. Not only will it provide a nice publicity boost for several upcoming Halloween screenings, but Virginia is one of those people who seem to bring out the best in anyone she speaks with.

I once thought my high point in terms of public radio celebrity interaction was bumping into Tom and Ray Magliozzi (the "Car Talk" brothers) some years ago in an elevator at the studios of WBUR in Boston.

But that encounter has since been surpassed by my interactions with Virginia. For one thing, she has much better hair than either of the Car Talk guys.

I'm not sure when the 'Word of Mouth' segment will air, but I'll post the info here as soon as I know. The station's Web address is: http://www.nhpr.org.

Virginia Prescott making a gesture that I expect to see a lot of tomorrow, given my inability to stop talking.

Monday, October 6, 2014

'Chicago' (1927) at Flying Monkey
on Thursday, Oct. 9—and not all that jazz

A wild poster that captures the film's flamboyant spirit, I think.

Somewhat ironically, the biggest challenge in accompanying the silent movie version of 'Chicago' (1927) is an on-screen player piano.

But yes. In the film—being screened on Thursday, Oct. 9 at the Flying Monkey Moviehouse in Plymouth, N.H.—several scenes of violence take place in a room where a player piano is clanging away at some up-tempo tune.

So how to handle that in creating music for the film?

It's a tougher question that you might realize, as music in silent film does not merely serve to illustrate what's happening on screen, or even just to set a mood.

The way I do it, anyway, I've found music can help an audience read a silent film more readily. In other words, music can help an audience understand what's significant as it passes by in front of them.

What I mean is that for most people, silent film is not an everyday experience. Today, we're used to movies (and television, and everything else) that come with everything: sound, color, snappy dialogue, the works.

By necessity, silent film emphasized the visual aspect of motion pictures. The spoken word, and particularly tone of voice, wasn't available to help communicate important shifts of mood that signal to an audience that something important has just happened, making it easy to follow a story.

It's kind of like the difference between a phone conversation and an e-mail. As anyone in today's world knows, because e-mail lacks all-important tone of voice, a friendly note or comment can sometimes be interpreted as angry by the receiver. Hence the development of emoticons. :)

And because of that, an audience at a silent film needs to pay attention to the screen closely to keep up. Miss that raised eyebrow of Buster Keaton, and you might miss a shift in attitude that's just been communicated. And then you might not quite get what happens in the next scene.

I've found that music can help a modern audience stay with a film from another era. It can provide signals that help validate what we're experiencing in this now-arcane art form. Did what I just see have any real importance? It must have, because the music changed.

So what does this have to do with a player piano in 'Chicago?'

Well, if I just crank up the old pianola sound while the instrument is playing, I risk trivializing the importance of the on-screen violence or miscue the audience about its significance. And thus I would undercut a lot of the dramatic impact of the movie yet to come. "He's playing old-time piano ragtime, so what I saw can't be that serious."

On the other hand, if I do my job really well with the music, the player piano might somehow be able to communicate the sheer insanity of what's happening on screen. People are literate enough, in terms of film music, I think, to recognize irony when they see it, or hear it.

Because the player piano is featured so prominently in the scenes, including close-ups of the keys going up and down in ghostly fashion—it's clear the filmmakers wanted it to be emphasized. Still, I'm wondering how accompanists of 1927 handled this.

Another problem is audience expectations. With the Kander and Ebb stage musical version of 'Chicago' continuing to take the world by storm, I'm sure some people will expect to hear tunes from that woven into our screening.

Generally, I agree with accompanists who feel that when you insert a recognizable tune into silent film music, it causes the audience to think, "Oh, I know that tune," and thus interrupts the spell that a good silent film creates.

So sorry, but there won't be any "All That Jazz" in Thursday night's screening.

If you'd like to see how it all turns out, please join us for this terrific melodrama. More info on the film and the screening is pasted in below:

* * *

Phyllis Haver has more than one weapon in 'Chicago' (1927), and she's not afraid to use either of them.

WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 17, 2014 / FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact Jeff Rapsis • (603) 236-9237 • jeffrapsis@gmail.com

Original silent film version of 'Chicago' to screen Thursday, Oct. 9 at Flying Monkey


Popular jazz-age melodrama, long thought lost but recently rediscovered, to be shown on the big screen with live music

PLYMOUTH, N.H.—Long before it became a long-running Broadway musical and then 2002's Best Picture, the story of 'Chicago' first achieved worldwide fame as hit silent film.

Noted for its cynical humor and adult themes, early movie-goers loved how the original 'Chicago' captured the anything-goes flavor of the jazz age at its height.

See for yourself when the original 1927 screen version of 'Chicago' is screened at the Flying Monkey Moviehouse and Performance Center on Thursday, Oct. 9 at 6:30 p.m.

The program, the latest in the theater's silent film series, will be accompanied by live music performed by silent film composer Jeff Rapsis. Admission is $10 per person.

'Chicago' tells the jazz age story of gold digger Roxie Hart, a young wife who guns down her older lover and is then put on trial for murder.

With Roxie represented by a publicity-hungry lawyer, and with prosecution the hands of an ambitious district attorney, the courtroom drama hits the spotlight and scandalizes the country as the nation awaits an answer to the question: Is she innocent, or headed for the slammer?

The silent film version of 'Chicago,' based on a hit 1926 stage play, was for many years thought to be one of the many silent films that were completely lost, with no copies surviving in any archive. But in 2006, a pristine original print of the film was discovered in the archives of iconic director Cecil B. DeMille, who supervised its production.

DeMille personally supervised the shooting of 'Chicago,' but refused to take directorial credit for the lurid melodrama because its message clashed severely with DeMille's high-minded Biblical epic 'King of Kings,' then playing in theaters.

The film stars veteran actors Phyllis Haver as Roxie Hart; Victor Varconi as her long-suffering husband; Eugene Pallette as her lover; and Robert Edeson as the lawyer who takes on Roxie's case. Directing credit was given to Frank Urson.

The headline says it all. No equivalent to the SCREAMING HEADLINE in today's Internet world, other than people who type in ALL CAPS.

The resurfacing of the original screen version of 'Chicago' after eight decades was regarded as a major cinematic rediscovery.

In reviewing the film, critic Jamie S. Rich of www.dvdtalk.com called it a "melodrama that remains fun to watch even 80 years later. It's more than a historical curio or an antiquated prototype for its more famous descendent; DeMille's production is stylishly ambitious and smartly constructed. This loose-limbed crime story is evidence of just how assured cinema had become prior to the advent of sound."

Other critics singled out the performance of Phyllis Haver as the film's highlight.

"Chicago impresses by its modern sensibility; its no-holds-barred look at love, lust, law, social mores, and the media; and especially by its delightfully amoral heroine, played to perfection by former Mack Sennett Bathing Beauty Phyllis Haver," wrote Andre Soares of the Alternative Film Guide.

"All in all, in spite of the moralistic ending Chicago holds up remarkably well as a jaded (or perhaps just plain lucid) take on sex and power in American society, dealing with issues that are as relevant today as they were yesteryear," Soares wrote.

The story was used again in 'Roxie' (1942), a Hollywood remake starring Ginger Rogers, before being reshaped into 'Chicago,' the hit 1975 musical by John Kander and Fred Ebb. A Broadway revival that opened in 1996 is still running, and was the basis for a film version that won the 2002 Academy Award for Best Picture.

In reviving the original 'Chicago,' the Flying Monkey aims to show silent movies as they were meant to be seen—in high quality prints, on a large screen, with live music, and with an audience.

"All those elements are important parts of the silent film experience," said Jeff Rapsis, who will improvise a musical score during the screening. "Recreate those conditions, and the classics of early cinema leap back to life. They all featured great stories with compelling characters and universal appeal, so it's no surprise that they hold up and we still respond to them."

Rapsis performs on a digital synthesizer that reproduces the texture of the full orchestra and creates a traditional "movie score" sound.

Upcoming feature films in the Flying Monkey's silent film series include:

• Thursday, Oct. 30, 6:30 p.m.: 'The Phantom of the Opera' (1925). Long before Andrew Lloyd Webber created the hit stage musical, this silent film adaptation of the classic French novel starring Lon Chaney helped place 'Phantom' firmly in the pantheon of both horror and romance. Just in time for Halloween—see it if you dare!

• Thursday, Nov. 13, 6:30 p.m.: 'Running Wild' (1927) starring W.C. Fields. Long before he entertained movie audiences with his nasal twang, W.C. Fields was a popular leading man in silent film comedies! This one finds Fields as a hen-pecked husband finally driven to make surprising changes in his life.

‘Chicago' (1927) will be shown on Thursday, Oct. 9 at 6:30 p.m. at the Flying Monkey Moviehouse and Performance Center, 39 South Main St., Plymouth, N.H.; (603) 536-2551. Admission $10. For more information, visit www.flyingmonkeynh.com. For more info on the music, visit www.jeffrapsis.com.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

On India's 'Bollywood' blockbusters:
A modern form of silent cinema?

Today's Bollywood: Louder than ever, but a cousin to silent cinema.

I've just returned from a trip to southern India, and one of the highlights was seeing the latest Bollywood blockbuster where it's meant to be seen: on the big screen in a movie theater filled with fans.

I know what you're thinking: Bollywood? What's that got to do with silent film?

Turns out quite a lot, actually.

And yes, I didn't "get" Bollywood myself until an earlier visit to India in 2006, when I first saw a Bollywood film in its native environment: in this case, the Raj Mandir, a vintage movie palace about the size of Radio City Music Hall in the western city of Jaipur.

The exterior of the Raj Mandir in Jaipur.

The theater was memorable because it looked like a cross between a Las Vegas casino and the Emerald City from 'The Wizard of Oz.' But film, whose title I can't recall, was entirely forgettable: some light-as-a-feather romantic escapade that ran for more than three hours, including an intermission.

But the experience was unforgettable: a noisy crowd totally into the film, responding and reacting to it with wild abandon, calling friends on cell phones to provide updates on the latest plot twists or dance numbers. Families were sharing entire picnic meals, arguing over who would get the last drumstick.

And just as many have journeyed to India for discovery, I had to go there to "get" Bollywood. And the secret was this: Bollywood offered escape. It was the same kind of escape that Hollywood once offered, via Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, during the depths of the Great Depression. And not to be too hard on India, which remains a developing nation, but if most citizens need anything from its cinema, it's escape.

The over-the-top lobby of the Raj Mandir: escape even in the architecture!

And Bollywood gives it to them: films filled with action, adventure, comedy, romance, improbable fantasy dance numbers, and more, with absurd plots acted out by beautiful people living lives beyond the means of most Bollywood fans. It's the ultimate wish-fulfillment.

Also, Bollywood movies focus on the BIG emotions: Love with a capital L, and Hate, and Revenge, and Joy, and so on. Nothing subtle here. It's a cousin to opera, which is all about the experience of outsized emotions—as is a lot of the best silent film, too.

This time, we were in Bangalore, where there's no equivalent to the "Raj Mandir" movie palace. So a group of friends and I went to the Forum mall, a brand new shopping center that's topped by an 11-screen multiplex on the upper levels.

The Forum Mall in Bangalore: not quite the Raj Mandir, but still a wild sight.

Not knowing what to see, we asked staffers at the hotel and also people in the mall what the big must-see movie was. The answer came back almost unanimously: we had to see 'Dhoom 3,' a mega-blockbuster that had hit theaters just two weeks before.

Not in favor, surprisingly, was our Indian tour guide, Shasha, who called 'Dhoom 3' a "crap movie" and shook his head in disbelief that we'd even consider attending. But he went along with us just the same.

After confirming with the bemused box office clerk that 'Dhoom 3' was the picture to see, we got our assigned-seating tickets (that's the way they do it India) for 200 rupees each, or about $3.30. Quite a bargain! We then went through security, where a theater staffer warned us that the film was in Hindi, not English.

"That's fine," I said. "This is an experiment in the international language of cinema."

"Well, then carry on," he replied.

Another poster for 'Dhoom 3': in Hindi, the word 'Dhoom' means a combination of uproar, noise, and smoke.

And yes, one of the attractions of attending a Bollywood film is that it's not in English. The stories are usually so simple and transparent that you don't need to really understand the dialogue. In fact, somehow keeping all the words abstract allows you fill it in with your own version, which can make things more intense than if you knew the language. And there we are: the power of silent cinema all over again, even when a film does have dialogue.

Weirdly, even though the people in our group bought tickets at different times, all our seats wound up being together, way back in the very last row of the theater. This has happened each time I've seen a Bollywood film in India, so it's definitely a practice to seat foreigners up and out of the way, and I never pondered why until I asked an Indian woman seated next to me on the plane home.

"Oh, they do that for your own protection," she said, which I found hilarious until I remembered that the key villain in 'Dhoom 3' was, yes, a rich American banker who destroys the dreams of innocent Indians, setting the whole revenge plot in motion. Alas, we are the new Nazis.

No such bad vibes were given off, however, as we took our seats in the brand new theater, which looked a lot like a high-end cinema back home: steeply raked seating, plush reclining seats, overall very comfortable. Early arrivees for the 6 p.m. screening of 'Dhoom 3' were treated to a rotating series of ads, some local and some national, and all over the map in terms of quality.

It was a Tuesday night, so the theater was only about half-full when the lights went down, even though 'Dhoom 3' was sweeping the nation and was already the highest-grossing Bollywood epic ever. Surprisingly, the pre-show announcements included a request for patrons to turn off their mobile phones during the show, which seemed to me to go against the whole culture of how movies are seen in India. But there's apparently a solid financial reason to stop phone use: nowaways, phones can be used to tape a new hit movie and are apparently the source of many pirated editions of popular films.

It was also apparent that this theater was not one of those in India that still employ carbon arc projection. (And 'Dhoom 3' seems to have been conceived, shot, and issued purely in digital format, judging by the credits.) Well, so much for old school film technology, which I was kinda hoping to experience. But the image (and sound) could not have been more vivid, I thought.

After some over-the-top coming attractions, 'Dhoom 3' began, and I immediately knew we were in trouble with the opening title, which stated "CHICAGO 1990." Bollywood films can be hilarious enough, but when they're set in the U.S., the unintended comedy quotient can go over the top. An earlier film set in the U.S., 'My Name is Khan' (2010), was probably the funniest film I've seen in a theater since 'Borat' (2006).

'Dhoom 3,' which is indeed set almost entirely in Chicago, did a surprisingly good job of avoiding unintentional hilarity. Some things stuck out, though: Chicago 1990 (seen frequently in flashbacks) looks more like London 1888. The film asks us to believe that the monumental building on Lake Michigan is home to the "Great Indian Circus" rather than the Shedd Aquarium at the Field Museum of Natural History, and that it just stays abandoned for more than two decades. One helping of suspension of disbelief, please!

The Shedd Aquarium fills in as the long-time home of 'The Great Indian Circus' in 'Dhoom 3.'

And yes, many of the walk-on parts of Americans come across as absurdly phoney: an amusement park security guard announces that it's closing time in the most cheerful manner possible. And a final motorcycle chase through downtown Chicago ends suddenly outside of town at...Hoover Dam! Or at least I thought it was Hoover Dam until a quick Web search found it to actually be a dam in Switzerland, where a lot of Bollywood filming takes place because the scenery is so idyllic. (Indeed, what was supposed to the "Chicago Train Station" had rolling stock of the Schweizer Bundesbahn, or the Swiss Federal Railways, on its tracks.)

And we're supposed to believe that the gorgeous blond American cop assigned to help two crimefighters from Mumbai just happens to speak a little Hindi! A second helping, please!

Well, on the other hand, the American setting meant big chunks were actually in English (with Hindi subtitles), making 'Dhoom 3' just a little bit easier to follow. And having the action take place in Chicago did lend the whole thing a special interest that might have been missing if it had been set in insert-nameless-Indian-megalopolis-here.

But 'Dhoom 3' delivered in spades in what you expect from a Bollywood film: action, adventure, romance, comedy—it was clearly in the tradition of "something for everyone," just like the circus that was at the center of the film's plot.

A production still from 'Dhoom 3' taken during one of the kinetic high-speed motorcycle chases through downtown Chicago, complete with fake "Chicago Police" squad car.

Of special note was the soundtrack, which was produced using the new Dolby Atmos system and which was completely overpowering. Yes, it was clearly too loud in some (well many) action sequences and climaxes, but throughout it had a robust bloom to it which was just exciting to behold. It reminded me of how Berlioz used to just revel in the experience of sound: it was such a pleasure to be in the presence of something done so well.

And the reaction? My colleagues, all Bollywood newbies except for our tour guide, were unanimous: 'Dhoom 3' was AWESOME! At intermission and then at the end, we were all drained and giddy by what was a truly cathartic time in the cinema. For days afterwards, everyone was saying it was the surprise highlight of their trip to India, which otherwise was heavy on temples and historic and cultural sites.

Maybe all that make a bit of pop culture stand out all the more. But to me, it served as a powerful reminder of how important it is to experience cinema in a theater with an audience. Silent or not, it's completely different from watching a film on TV by yourself, or on YouTube, or on your cell phone, God help you.

It's almost like some kind of critical mass is necessary for big (and shared) emotions to happen. A theater full of strangers, all responding to something amazing, and by that response, opening up each other to respond more intensely, until we're all part of a collective catharsis.

When it happens, there's nothing like it. And Bollywood films seem to me to have a high batting average. So if you get a chance to see a Bollywood film in its native environment—in a theater with an audience—by all means go.

And now we return to our regularly scheduled blogging about silent film...


Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Notes on scoring 'Chicago' (1927);
Upcoming: Keaton in 'The Cameraman' (1928)

Roxie Hart (Phyllis Haver) examines the results of pulling the trigger while a player piano grinds away in the background.

Last night we ran the original 'Chicago' (1927), and it's a fun film for music, with a lot of good scenes that lend themselves to a brash sycopated kind of score, and some dizzy transitions from drama to comedy that music can help bring to life, I think.

It's also a challenging one, as a player piano has a featured role on-screen. Why challenging? Because the player piano is used during some of the most dramatic scenes in the picture, as a kind of visual counterpoint to the action. When Roxie Hart (Phyllis Haver) drills Eugene Pallette to get the picture going, the player piano is right there front and center, a full witness to the carnage.

At a few key points when the tension amps up, the movie cuts to the piano grinding away, its keys moving up and down in that ghostly "look ma, no hands" manner that player pianos have about them.

A typical player piano of the era, ready for its close-up.

How interesting in a silent film to use a musical instrument to help set a scene visually, but leave it up to the pit musicians to figger out how to bring this to life?

So how do you score this? Do you just morph the orchestral texture into a kind of honky-tonk sound and leave it at that, or do you switch specifically to a solo piano sound and play that up? Or something else?

And whichever path you choose, how do you do it without taking away too much attention from the film?

Well, I chose to switch to a solo piano sound whenever the thing was switched on, if nothing else than for variety. If it worked at all, it's because at least it's easy to spot the moments coming: 'Chicago' has exactly three player piano sequences that are easy to see before they happen, and their end is visually signaled as well.

I wasn't overly thrilled with the results, but people at our screening at the Manchester (N.H.) Public Library said they thought it worked quite well! Just goes to show that how you think you did sometimes varies tremendously from what others perceived.

The music for player pianos came in the form of 'piano rolls,' quantities of which continue to turn up in estate auctions all the time.

By the way, I just learned that 1924 was the peak year for player piano sales in the United States. Up until then, business was good at a time when no home was considered truly complete without a piano. (A player piano served as the equivalent of today's home entertainment centers, I guess.) From the mid-1920s on, the player piano's place in the home was rapidly usurped by gramophone records, which boasted much improved fidelity as the 1920s wore on, and also the then-new-fangled radio or "wireless" devices that came on the market then.

So when 'Chicago' was filmed in 1926-7, the player piano already had a kind of sad "not quite with the times" quality about it, which probably added something to the picture's "yesterday's news" theme. And by the time of the stock market crash in 1929, player pianos were last week's cole slaw, and production had virtually ceased.

Looking ahead: After a Labor Day weekend lull, the schedule comes back to life in mid-September with back-to-back screenings of Keaton's great comedy 'The Cameraman' (1928), one on the Maine coast and the other in the mountains of Vermont.

Below is the press release for the screening on Friday, Sept. 14 at 8 p.m. at the Leavitt Theater in Ogunquit, Maine; for the next day's showing, just substitute "Brandon Town Hall in Brandon, Vt." for the venue and 7 p.m. for the time and "free" for the admission, and you're good to go.

* * *

MONDAY, AUG. 27, 2012 / FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact Jeff Rapsis • (603) 236-9237 • jeffrapsis@gmail.com

Buster Keaton's 'Cameraman' at Leavitt Theatre on Friday, Sept. 14

Classic silent film comedy to be screened with live music at historic Ogunquit moviehouse

OGUNQUIT, Maine—He never smiled on camera, earning him the nickname of "the Great Stone Face." But Buster Keaton's comedies rocked Hollywood's silent era with laughter throughout the 1920s. Acclaimed for their originality and clever visual gags, and admired for their realistic stories and authentic location shots, Keaton's films remain popular crowd-pleasers today.

See for yourself with a screening of 'The Cameraman' (1928), one of Keaton's landmark feature films, on Friday, Sept. 14 at 8 p.m. at the Leavitt Fine Arts Theatre, 259 Main St. Route 1, Ogunquit, Maine. The program will be accompanied by live music performed by New Hampshire composer Jeff Rapsis. General admission is $10 per person.

'The Cameraman' tells the story of a young man (Keaton) who tries to impress the girl of his dreams (Marceline Day) by working as a freelance newsreel cameraman. His efforts result in spectacular failure, but then a lucky break gives him an unexpected chance to make his mark. Can he parlay the scoop of the year into a secure job and successful romance?

In 'The Cameraman,' Keaton creates comedy that plays with the very nature of film and reality. The film contains several classic sequences often cited as among Keaton's best, including a scene where Keaton and a large man both struggle to change into swimsuits in a tiny dressing room. The scene, which runs several minutes long, was filmed in one take.

Keaton, along with Charlie Chaplin and Harold Lloyd, stands as one of the silent screen's three great clowns. Many critics regard Keaton as the best of all; Roger Ebert wrote in 2002 that "in an extraordinary period from 1920 to 1929, (Keaton) worked without interruption on a series of films that make him, arguably, the greatest actor-director in the history of the movies." But while making films, Keaton never thought he was an artist, but an entertainer trying to use the then-new art of motion pictures to tell stories and create laughter.

As a performer, Keaton was uniquely suited to the demands of silent comedy. Born in 1895, he made his stage debut as a toddler, joining his family's knockabout vaudeville act and learning to take falls and do acrobatic stunts at an early age. He spent his entire childhood and adolescence on stage, attending school for exactly one day.

An entirely intuitive artist, Keaton entered films in 1917 and was quickly fascinated. After apprenticing with popular comedian Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle, Keaton went on to set up his own studio in 1920, making short comedies that established him as a one of the era's leading talents. A remarkable pantomime artist, Keaton naturally used his whole body to communicate emotions ranging from sadness to surprise. In an era with no special effects, Keaton's acrobatic talents meant he performed all his own stunts.

All those talents are on display in 'The Cameraman,' which was selected in 2005 for preservation in the U.S. National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant."

In addition the the feature-length 'The Cameraman,' several Keaton short comedies from earlier in his career will also be screened.

The Leavitt, a summertime only one-screen theater, opened in 1923 as a silent film house. It is currrently in its 89th season of operation in the seaside resort town of Ogunquit.

Rapsis, a New Hampshire-based silent film musician, said the Keaton features were not made to be shown on television or viewed on home entertainment centers. In reviving them, the Leavitt aims to show silent film as they were meant to be seen—in high quality prints, on a large screen, with live music, and with an audience.

"All those elements are important parts of the silent film experience," said Rapsis, who improvises accompaniment as a film is screened. "Recreate those conditions, and the classics of early Hollywood leap back to life in ways that can still move audiences today. They all featured great stories with compelling characters and universal appeal, so it's no surprise that they hold up and we still respond to them."

Rapsis performs on a digital synthesizer that reproduces the texture of the full orchestra and creates a traditional "movie score" sound.

‘The Cameraman’ will be shown on Friday, Sept. 14 at 8 p.m. at the Leavitt Fine Arts Theatre, 259 Main St. Route 1, Ogunquit, Maine. Admission is $10 per person. For more info, call (207) 646-3123 or visit www.leavittheatre.com. For more info on the music, visit www.jeffrapsis.com.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Thoughts on 'The Iron Mask' (1929),
plus 'Chicago' (1927) coming up next

Talk about your moving farewells! Yesterday (Sunday, Aug. 26), we ran 'The Iron Mask' (1929), the last silent swashbuckler from Douglas Fairbanks, at the Wilton (N.H.) Town Hall Theatre as a way to close out our summer-long series of his work.

It was a new film to me, and I was struck how he fashioned the ending to not just finish the film, but also to bid goodbye to his silent film career and the character that had led us all on a decade of great adventures. I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but what happens to Fairbanks at the end (and only in this film, no others), is quite a moving salute both to his career and the art form in which he worked. He knew he was moving on, as was the industry, and he bowed out in a very classy way. Bravo, Doug!

Funny how unexpected things can shape your experience of a film. Fairbanks intended 'The Iron Mask' as a kind of companion film to the earlier 'Three Musketeers' (1921), using many of the same cast members. However, a few changes were made. In the earlier film, the musketeer Aramis was played by Eugene Pallette. When it was time to make 'The Iron Mask,' Pallette had gained so much weight that he was replaced by Italian actor Gino Corrado. That's Corrado as Aramis below, on the far left.

And that would have been that, except for a turn that Corrado's career would take some years later. In 1945, the Three Stooges filmed 'Micro-Phonies,' a classic comedy short in which they play incompetent janitors at a radio station who are mistaken for classical music performers. (Don't ask.)

A highlight of the film is their encounter with a high-strung violinist, played by none other than...yes, Gino Corrado. After Moe, Larry, and Curly succeed in smashing his violin, Corrado becomes so enraged that he grabs a ceremonial sword from a wall and begins chasing them, threatening to "cut you all into little pieces!"and to "kill you to death." In a later scene, Corrado makes an menacing "finger across the throat" gesture before exposing the Stooges as incompetent frauds.

This is a film I've known and watched over and over since childhood. Due to repeated exposure in this one role, Gino Corrado to me will always be the enraged classical violinist who wants to cut the Stooges into little pieces. (There he is at left.) So when he shows up in other movies (and he was a busy guy, appearing in more than 350 films during a long career), it creates a little dislocation for me.

No matter what is happening, I expect Corrado to become enraged, grab a sword, and start chasing people around. That happened a lot when I first watched 'The Iron Mask,' but then of course this is one film in which Corrado actually does spent a lot of time chasing people around with a sword, so it all seemed quite natural.

I don't know this for sure, but it seems there's a direct connection between 'The Iron Mask' and Corrado's several appearances in Stooges films two decades later. One of the sound technicians for 'The Iron Mask' was a young man named Edward Bernds, who would later become a director at Columbia in the short subject department. And guess who directed 'Micro-Phonies?' That's right.

But one of the nice things about these connections is that it spurs my curiosity about some of these actors. And in the case of Corrado, I'm glad it did. Turns out he's the only actor to appear in all three of the big-time classics of Hollywood's golden era: 'Gone With the Wind' (1939), 'Citizen Kane' (1941), and 'Casablanca' (1942). The roles may have been minor, but what an amazing and unique trifecta!

Although Corrado retired in the 1950s, he lived until 1982, when he died at age 89. And get this: According to Wikipedia, "his grave is located at Valhalla Memorial Park Cemetery, and his gravestone epitaph is etched with Corrado's video screen-image from the classic Three Stooges short, 'Micro-Phonies,' with the inscription, "Forever On The Screen - Forever In Our Hearts."

Speaking of Bernds, the future director: why did 'The Iron Mask,' a silent film, have a sound technician? Because Fairbanks knew that for a film being released in 1929, a few dialogue sequences would greatly help its chances at the box office. So that's what he did, and I'm pleased to report that for our screening, we were able to include the two original "talking" scenes as filmed, with Fairbanks addressing the audience directly and exhorting us to follow the grand adventure.

We this once again with a switch rigged up by Dennis Markaverich of the Wilton Town Hall Theatre, who's been running the show there since 1973. (And movies have been shown there since 1912, meaning a full century!) When a dialogue scene comes up, all I have to do is flip an ordinary home light switch and the original soundtrack comes up.

This worked well for a screening of the part-talkie 'Noah's Ark' (1928) earlier this year, and so we pressed it into service for 'The Iron Mask.' The only potential trouble would be in me forgetting where the dialogue scenes start and stop, but 'The Iron Mask' was pretty easy: one at the very beginning, and one after the title 'Twenty Years Later.'

Okay, moving onward: if you missed Eugene Pallette as Aramis in 'The Iron Mask,' he shows up in 'Chicago' (1927), the next silent feature I'm doing music for. It's screening on Tuesday, Aug. 28 (hey, that's tomorrow!) at 6 p.m. in the downstairs auditorium of the Manchester (N.H.) Public Library, 451 Pine St. Admission is free.

The original silent 'Chicago' is another title I've never done but wanted to, so I'm looking forward to it. I had hoped to do it a couple of years ago when the Ogunquit Playhouse, a well-known regional theater in our part of the world, was presenting the much-more-recent stage musical 'Chicago,' which would make the silent film version a nice companion piece.

But alas, it didn't happen, and so I'm still hoping to work with a theater company on a pairing like this. Any takers?