Close Up (Jan-Jun 1929)

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CLOSE UP in three stages. Far off, nearer and then near. It is sometimes very successful, sometimes too slow. Once at least he reverses it, showing you first of all a woman standing by a hut watching her son ride off. The second shot, further off, is the same, with distance between, so that remoteness begins, and the quiet undulations of the land. The last has only the now familiar miles of empty, barren-looking hillocks, and far off the tiny block of the hut, and the even tinier figure, hemmed in and enclosed by loneliness. This is clever and poignant, but two or three times in one film is enough. And sometimes the camera was oblique for no reason. Which is very like trying to be clever, proving one maintained critical coolness. Certainly the mesh was loose now and then, and certainly one was able to peep through. It would be pert or narrow to allow this to take importance. The fabric, as a whole, is something that matters so vitally. It is, indeed, an amazing thing to plunge from the half-lewd idiocy of the average film to this. The contrast is a kind of crevasse over which there is no bridge. The average film concerns itself with things that don't matter happening to people who don't matter, set in a treacley irreality of sex-charged commonness. This mildly pernicious grime is spread out in ever-thickening layers until finally, if something — some storm over Europe — does not invade the cinema manufactories, sweeping it away like the invading army on the hurricane in Pudovkin's film, it will choke every one of us. I see that Storm Over Asia will be considerably modified for Berlin. The invading army " is probably not stressed there as British, the commander's scare-crow, well-bred wife will be allowed to be a vaguer symbol. I have a feeling, 40