Reel and Slide (Jan-Sep 1919)

REEL and SLIDE 21 Evolution of Film Projection Booth Expert Describes Early Operating Rooms Before Advent of High Class Picture Theater Careless Handling of Moving Picture Films Greatly Offset by Modern Machine Housing By F. H. Richardson (Excerpt from an address made before the Society of Motion Picture Engineers, Cleveland, Ohio, November 21, 1918) THIS article is presumed to deal with the projection machine enclosure, and to set forth, as briefly as may be, some of its more important requirements. It would, therefore, seem fitting that a short resume of the evolution of this enclosure, from a cloth-walled affair to what it now is, will not be inappropriate. In the earliest days of the industry the projection machine enclosure was usually merely a surrounding drape of black or dark-colored cloth, designed merely to conceal, or partly conceal, the apparatus and its attendants from the audience. This form of enclosure continued to be used until motion picture theaters came into existence. The advent of the theater very naturally suggested a more permanent housing for the projection apparatus, and the need was first met by a wooden-walled room, which, probably by reason of its smallness and the nature of its immediate predecessor, was called the "booth." Films coming from the projector were run either into an open basket, or a sack attached at its open end to a hoop. This plan was later changed by substituting a large metal tank, which same was made to act as a base for the projection machine itself. Operators (they were little more than mere operators of machines in those days) were allowed to and usually did smoke at will. The top of the metal tank was often used as a convenient shelf for temporary deposit of red hot carbon butts, whence one would occasionally roll into the opening of the film tank. As may well be imagined, the combination of a wood-walled room, cigar and cigarette butts, and red-hot carbon stubs made for trouble. Great Speed of Combustion The resulting fires raised a tempest of very caustic newspaper comment, and the demand for a fireproof enclosure for the projection apparatus. Incidentally it was the tremendous speed of combustion occurring under such circumstances (one and often two reels of film run into a sack or tank in a loose pile) which gave rise to the absurd but for several years very familiar "film explosion" newspaper scare heads. The first result of the fires (several of which were rather serious in the item of property loss, and a few in injury to theater patrons, the latter resulting almost entirely from panic) was an attempt to fireproof the enclosure by covering its walls with sheets of either tin or iron. This proved highly ineffective, and was later ordered put on with locked joints; still later it was backed with sheet asbestos. Some very amusing instances of official stupidity occurred in connection with the early attempts at fireproofing. Chicago had just passed an ordinance requiring the interior of all picture shows located in buildings in which families lived to be fireproofed with pressed steel, backed by sheet asbestos Y% of an nch thick. An inspector visited a North Clark street "store room" theater, on one side of the auditorium of which was a 24-inch brick wall, finished with plaster applied directly to the brick. He actually threatened to close the show unless that wall be immediately fireproofed as per ordinance. Gradually these makeshifts were improved upon, however, until we have to-day very many examples of really very fine projection machine enclosures, though there is still a sad lack of any generally applied adequate standard as to either size, construction or other items. Made Subject of Absurd Rules In the beginning of the industry there was slight need for any other than very rudimentary knowledge or skill in projection. Motion pictures were a novelty, and people paid to see them as such. Projection machines were small and their workmanship crude. The illuminant was weak. The photography was poor. The perforations were anything else than accurate. The screen was merely a square of muslin, and as long as there was something resembling a motion picture somewhere on the front wall of the auditorium, everyone was well pleased. Technical knowledge, as applied to projection, simply did not exist. No one gave the "booth," or what it contained, a second thought, except to abuse the operator when he stopped the show too frequently to mend broken film, run too long out of frame, or requisitioned too many repair parts. The projector enclosure was placed in any space within sight of the screen which could not possibly be utilized for anything else. It had neither ventilation, nor toilet facilities. It was made the subject of a flood of absurd rules and laws, formulated by men who knew absolutely nothing about the real requirements. It was, literally, the very last thing to receive consideration as the industry advanced, and years of vigorous fighting were required to bring theater men to a realization of the fact that the room from whence the picture is projected lies close to the very heart of things. The business of the projection of motion pictures had to be literally dragged up out of a mire of almost contempt, and established on a plane of respectability. That recognition to which its importance just entitled it had to be fought for and won, and the battle is notyet over. I venture the assertion that the future will see the projection of motion pictures accorded recognition as of equal importance in artistic possibilities with any other branch of the industry, to say nothing of enormous possibilities for economy through intelligent understanding of the mechanical, electrical and optical details of projection installations. Objects to Name "Booth" To dispute the proposition that the room we are discussing is the very heart of the motion picture theater is equivalent to contending that one plus one does not make two. When the producer, his directors, high-grade camera men, high-salaried artists, dozens and maybe hundreds of lesser lights and his darkroom men and assemblers have all done, the finished product, be it the "battle cry of peace" or the humble efforts of the screen "barn-stormer," must perforce be turned over to the man in charge of projection for reproduction upon the theater screen before the final judge, the public. And who will dare say that poor equipment, poor working facilities or lack of skill will not either almost entirely ruin or at least largely detract from the artistic value of the finest production ever made, thus largely impairing its effectiveness with the audience? And if this is true, does it not follow that the projection machine enclosure, including its contents and the men in charge, are of huge importance to the industry? For the foregoing prelude I make no apology. If there is regret for space consumed, just consider the amount of space used up during past years on subjects of far less importance to the industry, and hold your peace. The writer very seriously objects to the name given the projection machine enclosure, namely, "booth." Webster, who is presumed to know what is correct in words and language, tells us a booth is a "temporary structure of boughs ; a shack." For many years I have used the name "operating room." This, however, while a very decided improvement over "booth," does not quite fill the bill. It seems to me that, logically, the room from which pictures are projected is a "projection room," and the writer respectfully suggests to this body its adoption by the department of nomenclature. Official War Review Number 24 Full of Patriotism as Allies Beat Back Germans £ £f | 1HE Path to Victory," No. 24 of Official War Review, released by Pathe December 9, is one of the most thrilling and instructive installments of this great patriotic and educational series. It shows how, day by day and night by night, the Allies beat back the foes' shattered armies. It is full of dramatic movement and comprehensive change of scene. Accompanied by the camera, Italian skirmishers dash through shell-shattered villages in pursuit of the fleeing Austrians. Soon the hills held by the enemy are theirs and they scatter and search for machine gun nests. The celluloid record shows a squad rushing an Austrian^ fortified cave, and the result is the capture of a fine flock of prisoners. _ A deeply impressive spectacle, caught by the camera, shows Britain's battalions, face to face with a keystone of the Hindenburg line, waiting for the signal to go "over the top." The batteries rip the foes' line to bits, and away go Tommy across no man's land to mop up another Boche trench.