The Cine Technician (1935-1937)

November, 1935 The Journal of the Association of CineTechnicians 51 To solve this, we proposed all manner of counterpoints. It is, indeed, remarkable how much the counterpoint we most foretold — the dissociation of a sound from its causing image {i.e., when a voice is heard at the moment the listeners and not the speaker appear on the screen) — has, for the most part undeliberately, entered sound-image cutting as a matter of course. But there is one very interesting solution we did not foresee. A new and special sort of dialogue for films (opposite to the stage dialogue that tells the story) has appeared. The characteristic of this dialogue is that it states precisely the opposite of what the speaker is really thijikiiig. Charles Macarthur is" the master of this type of dialogue. It remains true, as forecast, that sincere dialogue, a poetic play or love scene in which the characters "open their hearts," is on the screen dull and slow. But every scene in which there is a dichotomy of mood, the speech belies the feelings, a love scene in which the passionate lover expresses his adoration with "Get out of my Hght, you big stiff," is fast and vivid because in it both speech and image is necessary and the audience's delight is made only by the unity resulting from the conflict of the two. All the most vivid speech scenes in talkies are of this type. Recall the terrific pace of "Get Rich Quick Wallingford" (Macarthur), where 90 per cent, of the dialogue was confidence tricksters' patter. The scenes of "Madchen in Uniform," where repressed girls or prim and proper teachers are constantly uttering sentiments in conflict with their volcano of feelings within, expressed by their good acting. Or the Benedick and Beatrice formula love-scenes of "39 Steps" or "It Happened One Night." In their different ways all these are examples of typical film dialogue, dialogue that does not slow films. However, it is a revenge for the aestheticists that, even if they did not foresee it, this is of course also a form of counterpoint, counterpoint of feeling and utterance. 3. Limitation of Comedy. One of the silliest complaints we made was to suppose that comedy would be handicapped because, as the reactions of the audience at any given performance could not be foreseen, the comedian could not make the necessary timing adjustments, and the second line would often be lost in the burst of laughter that greeted the first. This was silly because, although it happens, it worries no one. Fortunate indeed is the audience that has cause to laugh loud enough to drown a following line. x\nd since the heart doesn't grieve over what it never knows it's missed, the loss causes no qualms. The strongest solution found is to pack a talking comedy so cram full of gags that even if a few are missed plenty will be left. But I must confess that, though I enjoy the result, it is a noisy or^e and leaves the spectator as limp as does a football match. An unforeseen stupidity of the comedy-maker arose, however, but has now been overcome generally, also by a counterpoint device. I refer to the idiocy of literal casual relation between sound and image. This killed several otherwise good comedies. Harold Lloyd, for example, had in silent pictures twice climbed the outside of tall buildings, to the audience's delight. He tried it in talkies, for it to go as flat as a pancake. Why was obvious. In the silent film a humorous musical accompaniment CROWN THEATR :S SS SS 86 WARDOUR STREET, E W.l 1 ■■ NOW OPEN FOR THE TRADE FULL RANGE SC DOUBLE-HEAD P 100 SEATS FOR REASONABLE Ch AVAILABL DAY (BY CROWN THEATRE, 86 Wardour )UND ROJECTION PRIVATE VIEWING SS Si HARGES E AT ANY TIME OR NIGHT ARRANGEMENT) Street, London, W.I 'Phone: Ger. 5223