Celluloid : the film to-day (1931)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

88 CELLULOID minded articles appeared calculated to disturb his well-earned success. It is obvious that Chaplin would not have challenged the film companies of America and Europe on the battlefield of speech and silence without a great deal of forethought. A man who has spent eighteen years of his life achieving greatness in one medium and with his responsibilities would not, in the face of the universal adoption of the talking picture, spend three years and the larger part of his money on the production of a synchronized film without being absolutely confident as to the correctness of his beliefs. From the time when the recorded voice was first employed in conjunction with screen images, Chaplin must have observed the futility of the attempt. But it is one thing to realize an absurdity and quite another to ignore it, or even to be in the position to pass it by with contempt. In all probability Chaplin, being an independent producer-director, was the only man in Hollywood who could afford to be guided by his own convictions. Unlike other directors, he was not obliged to carry out the instructions of a production-committee. He was free to stand by his decision that dialogue was a menace to the screen's power of expression. He was free to establish his belief in himself and his belief in cinema before the assembled audiences of the world. And, above all, he was free to retain the universal appeal of his language, the visual appeal of acrobats, dancers and clowns, in fact the integral essence of slapstick; whilst the remainder of the industry had crippled its markets