Transactions of the Society of Motion Picture Engineers (1916)

plied 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 today 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, and it is for the purpose of supplying a basis for these standards this article has been undertaken. 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 theatre 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 justly entitled it had to be fought for, and has been partly won, but the battle is not yet 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 accurate knowledge and intelligent handling of the mechanical, electrical and optical details of projection installations. To dispute the proposition that the room we are about to discuss is the very heart of the motion picture theatre 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 dark-room 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 theatre 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 impair 30