Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 5, No. 7 (1931-04)

April, 1931, Vol. V. No. 7 205 The Filmplay Seen as Symphony By GEORGE BRINTON BEAL An acute critic of drama and music finds a counterpoint of dialogue in the best sound-films S OUND, in pictures, is the most effective when it is the least noticeable. Foreign pro- ducers have learned this lesson sooner than have those who receive their fan mail in Holly- wood. The reason back of this paradoxical con- dition is that sound—and by sound I include dia- logue, or talk—can be legitimately utilized as em- phasis or atmosphere but seldom as an aid to reality. Sound, being fundamentally alien to mo- tion pictures, as an art form, has a consistent tendency to destroy such illusion as the picture may create in the mind of the observer. A talking picture, differing in this in no way from a silent picture, or a play upon the stage, presented by living characters, must possess the rhythmic attributes of a symphony in order to be artistically effective. Each voice introduced, each sound added, is but a voice in the orchestra- tion of the whole. A good director understands this and realizes it in his productions. One of the finest examples of recent date of a well orchestrated production is offered in ‘The Royal Family,” a Paramount production, based upon the stage play of this name, and played by a company almost entirely recruited from stage players. Ina Claire, Fredric March, Henrietta Crosman, all from the stage, and Mary Brian, a studio product of more than ordinary promise, from the standpoint of acting ability, provide a choir of voices skilfully tuned one to the other, and as skillfully matched to the subject matter intrusted to them for vocal interpretation. Throughout this film drama voices never clash either with each other or with the harmony of the action of the piece. Scanning the screen horizon for further evi- dence of sound value, the eye comes to a full stop upon another really notable production, that of “East Lynne,” by Fox again with a practically all-stage cast, headed by Ann Harding, Clive Brook and Conrad Nagel. Despite the fact that Miss Harding has a voice which, when mechanic- ally reproduced, has a most unpleasing quality in its higher register, this film marks a long advance in production quality, both from the standpoint of the sound observer, and from the standpoint of fine technical direction. Here is an instance of sound being used for its real value and not merely as an illustration, now grown boresome, that it is possible to make pic- tures talk and make noises, as the phrase goes. Frank Lloyd, who has done some good pictures in the past, sprinkled in with others of more ordi- nary merit or lack of it, is the director. Here is a paucity of talk when to have said more would only have been to weaken the force of what has been said. A return to titles, to explain passage of time, is another innovation introduced in the course of “East Lynne.” It is interesting to note that this use of printed titles seemed in no way to annoy, or disturb, the audiences sitting before “East Lynne.” More use of titles would do much to relieve the present film theatre of a tiresome lot of unneeded talk, forced into the talking se- quence of the play of the moment because of the necessity of getting some fact important to the understanding of the auditor before him. In developing the emotional side of the story, excellent use of sound has been made. As the time of the story being told runs concurrently with the period of the Franco-Prussian war, use of this circumstance has been skillfully made. When matters in the affairs of Lady Isabel, as played by Miss Harding, become turbulent, first you are given a shot of Lady Isabel, giving a re- strained dramatic interpretation of her feelings. Then there is cut in a battle scene, filled with the chaos and noisy turmoil of human strife. Here, the sounds of the actual battle are used to rein- force the inner battle taking place in the mind of the leading character. It is good psychology; good filmic sense, and excellent use of sound. Another example of this sort if treatment comes to mind in the French film, “Sous les Toits de Paris,” exhibited recently in some of the small art-theatres about the country. A street fight is in progress between the leaders of two rival gangs. It is staged under a street-light, at the intersection of two streets, one running parallel to the railroad. As the fight increases in violence, the action moves faster and faster. As the cli- max of the combat comes, there is a roaring, thunderous crashing noise as a train speeds be- tween the spectators and the fight. No careful reproduction of the panting breath of the fighters, the thud of blows, the rasping clutch of clothing scraped against clothing, or the half-spoken muttered curses of the fighters, could ever achieve what the rushing train does for this fight. The effect is tremendous in emotional ef- fectiveness. Away back in the days of silent pictures, David Wark Griffith discovered what an accompanying sound could do to enhance the action as shown