A silent film kind of weekend: Two screenings, two strong reactions

Buster Keaton and Ernest Torrance disagree about hats in 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' (1928)

I expected one to be good, but not both!

And yet two different silent film programs, each vastly different from the other, made strong connections with audiences this past weekend.

So before I leap ahead into May and its increasingly busy schedule of screenings, here's a brief report of this past weekend's activities, with some observations.

• Saturday, April 26: Two Buster Keaton comedies at a small Catholic liberal arts college in the middle of the New Hampshire woods.

I call this my "Junior" program, as it's Keaton's 'Sherlock Jr.' (1924) paired with 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' (1928). Silent film programming is a bit like wine selection or meal planning, I imagine, although most of my meal planning experience consists of selecting which drive-thru has the shortest wait.

But which films you choose can really make a difference, and to get it right you have to consider everything from length to content to mood to audience expectations.

With all that in mind, I've found 'Sherlock' and 'Steamboat' to be a really solid match. Both are great films that audiences still respond strongly to. The first is short enough to work well as a warm-up and to introduce Keaton to those unfamiliar with his work. The second has a better developed story and a climax on a much larger scale, so it makes for a nice progression.

And they both offer good examples of how Keaton's early life on stage influenced his work in the cinema. 'Sherlock' is full of live-action illusions (such as Buster jumping through a suitcase and seemingly disappearing) taken from vaudeville, while the cyclone climax of 'Steamboat' includes an eerie episode in theater being destroyed around our hero.

I've done this pairing before, and it always gets a good response. However, the reaction at the College of Saint Mary Magdalen in rural Warner, N.H. was surprising for its sheer intensity. From the opening titles in 'Sherlock,' everything in the film was greeted by raucous, uproarious, and absolutely genuine laughter.

Death, played by Bernhard Goetzke, sits outside his wall in 'Destiny' (1921).

• Sunday, April 27: A strange early Fritz Lang film from Germany at a small independent theater in tiny New Hampshire town.

I've wanted to do Lang's 'Destiny' (1921) for a long time, and that time finally came this past weekend with a screening at the Wilton (N.H.) Town Hall Theatre.

I really wasn't sure about this one. In previewing it prior to the screening, the film seemed slow and creaky. The image quality was less than stellar, and the pacing seemed really drawn out. How would a live audience respond to it?

Well, I needn't have worried. On the big screen and in a theater with about 100 people present, the film surprised me by holding the screen. And then it really surprised me by building to a very intense climactic sequence not unlike the end of Lang's later masterpiece 'Metropolis' (1927).

So it unexpectedly became one of those experiences where the film just swept up everyone (including me!) in an experience that I have trouble finding words to describe. A collective emotional catharsis? A unifying narrative apocalypse? A cinematic group hug?

I really don't know how to describe it other than to say it was a real rush to feel the emotional power of the film spreading out from the screen and taking hold of the audience. And somehow the music seemed to fit exactly, pushing emotions over the edge and helping everyone feel this emotional power, almost as one.

For 'Destiny,' I created a melody and chord sequence that to me sounded like one of those "building block" themes of Brahms—not so much a fully formed tune, but material to work with that was so open-ended as to go anywhere. So it was kind of like the main tune of the first movement of the Brahms Symphony No. 1, with dramatic leaps and a harmony that inevitably resolves to the tonic. Fate? Well, if fate has a sound, that's what I was going for.

And it really seems to fit. No matter what mood was called for, my fate music found a way to wrap its melodic tentacles around the on-screen action and embrace it with abandon. (Wow, did I just write that?)

At the end, I was in tears, and so were others in the the audience. And I stood up and took a few bows, but the applause was not just for the film or the music, but for all of us to have come together and shared something that I think brought out our collective humanity. Surprise! We're still human after all, with the capacity to care and love and actually feel something.

Thanks, Mr. Lang, for helping us remind ourselves that we're not dead yet.

Saturday, April 26 at Magdalen College: A Buster Keaton double feature!

Buster Keaton hangs around with co-star Ernest Torrence in 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' (1928), to be shown on Saturday, April 26 at 8 p.m. at Magalen College in Warner, N.H.

Besides the usual round of press releases, I sent out notices to 60 different churches around Concord, N.H., but turnout for our screening of 'King of Kings' (1927) on Good Friday amounted to just 17 people. Hey, what's wrong with you church people? Where are your priorities?

Well, in retrospect, maybe it just wasn't the smartest idea to program a film about the final days of Jesus on what is one of the most solemn days of the Christian calendar. I thought it was, and so did the folks at Red River Theatres in Concord, N.H., where we screened 'King of Kings' in one of the facility's two large theaters rather than the small screening room where most silents run.

I'll try to resurrect attendance this weekend at Magdalen College, a small liberal arts school up above Warner, N.H. We're doing a Buster Keaton program on Saturday, April 26 at 8 p.m., and the public is welcome. For more details, see the press release below.

And the next day, I'm doing a film that's new to me: the early Fritz Lang fantasy 'Destiny' (1921). It'll run on Sunday, April 27 at 4:30 p.m. at the Wilton Town Hall Theatre in Wilton, N.H. I'm developing new material for this one, as it's unusual enough to merit special attention, and I plan to push the digital synthesizer in some unusual directions.

For now, here's the press release for the Keaton program this weekend at Magdalen College. Come one, come all!

* * *

Buster Keaton's 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' (1928) is the featured attraction at Magdalen College in Warner, N.H. on Saturday, April 26 at 8 p.m.

MONDAY, APRIL 14, 2014 / FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact Jeff Rapsis • (603) 236-9237 • jeffrapsis@gmail.com

Silent comedy 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' to be shown
at Magdalen College on Saturday, April 26

Buster Keaton masterpiece to be screened with live music in Warner, N.H.; show open to public

WARNER, N.H.—Silent film with live music returns to the College of Saint Mary Magdalen 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 the college on Saturday, April 26 at 8 p.m.

The screening will allow attendees to experience silent film in the way its makers originally intended: on the big screen, with live music, and with an audience. The show is free to Magdalen College students and faculty; admission for the general public is $5 per person at the door.

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.

'Steamboat Bill Jr.' will be proceeded by Keaton's 'Sherlock Jr.' (1924), a shorter film that finds Buster as a movie projectionist and would-be detective who dreams himself into the whodunnit currently playing in the theater where he works.

The silent film presentation at Magdalen College aimes to recreate the era before movies were made with synchronized soundtracks. From about 1900 to 1929, films had no dialogue or recorded soundtracks. Instead, they were accompanied by live music at theaters across the country to around the world. Accompaniment could range from a small ensemble or just a single piano in small towns to full orchestras in big city theaters.

The screening of 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' and 'Sherlock 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, making up the 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, which is 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.

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 a fall, 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.

'Steamboat Bill Jr.' and 'Sherlock Jr.' will be screened on Saturday, April 26 at 8 p.m. at The College of Saint Mary Magdalen, 511 Kearsarge Mountain Road, Warner, N.H. The show is free to Magdalen College students and faculty; admission for the general public is $5 per person at the door. For more info on the music, visit www.jeffrapsis.com.

A screening of 'Wings' at a small school provides a big reminder of why I do this

Until recently, I had never heard of Magdalen College, a small Catholic liberal arts school in Warner, N.H. But there I was this past Friday, driving up Kearsarge Mountain Road, looking for the campus, home to another silent film adventure.

I had used Google Maps to get directions, and at first I thought Google hadn't heard of Magdalen College, either, until I realized that I had mistakenly typed in "Magadan," the city in Siberia where the notorious Russian prison camps of the Gulag Archipeligo were located. Oops!

Thankfully, Magadan College was a lot closer—not even an hour's drive from my home base in New Hampshire. And yes, there it was: off to the left, a handsome collection of neat buildings on a wooded campus that looked attractive even in the gloom of mud-season twilight.

I was there at the invitation of Father Neil Roy, a faculty member and movie buff who's attended several previous performances of mine. At Father Roy's request, I was there to provide live music for a screening of 'Wings' (1927) as part of a "Faith and Film" Honors Colloquium that he leads.

So at about 6:30 p.m., I pulled up to the school's St. Paul's Multi-Purpose Facility and went looking for Chris, my appoointed student helper. He wasn't hard to find, as the school is small by design and currently enrolls less than 100 students. Everyone I encountered was friendly, upbeat, and actually called me "sir."

We set up in a large room that serves as a theater and rehearsal space. Instead of a screen, we had an immense white wall, which worked great! I wasn't sure what to expect for turnout, but the screening was open to the public and we did get a good number of "outside" folks. I think we had 50 people altogether.

And I can't exactly say why, but for some reason I was in the zone almost completely and right from the beginning. By "in the zone," I mean that place where I can draw music that seems to come naturally from a film as it screens. It just all held together really well.

I think it helped that the audience was into it right from the start. The comical character of Herman Schwimpff (played by El Brendel) got more laughs than I'd ever heard before at a screening of this film. And that audience engagement set the stage for the drama that was to come, I think.

By advance agreement, we showed the version of the film that comes with an intermission. (Those folding chairs can take a toll.) But I found compelled to keep playing (switching to a strings-only setting), even as everyone filed out during the break, leaving me at one point entirely alone! But I didn't want to lose the state of mind that I'd achieved, which would likely happen if I took a break or came up for air. So on I played.

What was nice, however, was that as the crowd filed in, I began incorporating scraps of Offenbach's 'Can Can' melody, knowing that the Paris party scenes would be up next. It really helped tie things together and worked well in the room, I thought. Once the second half began, things continued to go well, and at some point I got to that state of mind where I felt I had nailed it.

So for maybe the final third of the movie, I felt absolutely confident, and with that state of mind, was able to do more than I usually can. I found a little fanfare figure to intersperse among the busy "flying music" that I usually play in 'Wings,' which my wife later pointed out sounding like part of the 'Superman' theme that John Williams created. Hey, I steal only from the best!

But I was also able to do things like incorporate the "Teddy Bear" motif (alternating major and minor chords an augmented 4th apart) into the trimphant march music that occurs when the action shifts state-side at the very end.

And best of all, I felt, was how the very ending of the picture came together, with just the right sense of softness and wonder growing out of the themes that I'd been using all throughout the score. It was so satisfying to be in that space and sense that I had a clear path, musically, to a satisfying ending. Talk about faith in film!

I was actually confident enough to go out on a mezzo-forte held chord (A Major) in the style of the ending of Dvorak's 'New World' Symphony, something I usually don't have the discipline to pull off, but which seemed to be just right for 'Wings' on Friday night. But I couldn't help punctuating it with a final "button" to finally end it. Bang!

And then I just sat there for a moment, overcome by the film's drama ('Wings' never fails to get to me, even after a dozen screenings) but also feeling this wonderful sense of creativity and energy that I had tapped into at just that time, at just that moment, that had just helped make something that everyone in the room had shared. There was also the wonder that we had brought to life the work and vision of hundreds of people no longer among us. At the time, I didn't think this. I just felt it.

Such moments have become one of the reasons I do this. I savored it all for just a moment, and then stood and turned around to a very generous ovation. And with this, I was overcome in an entirely different way, which happens when you climb out of that very tight space (not unlike a cockpit) that you inhabit while doing a live score, and rejoining everyone with whom you shared this communal experience.

So it just all really great. It seemed nearly everyone wanted my card afterwards, and I wound up standing by the door greeting everyone like I was part of a reception line.

Leave it to me, an altar boy with six years experience, to finish things off with a dumb inappropriate joke. At the end, I noticed the Magdalen students were taking my cards in a very polite fashion, using both hands. So, in a jovial mood, I quipped something along the lines of hey, it's not the Eucharist, folks, ho ho!

No reaction. And thus I learned one more thing: that God wants me to stick to silent film music.