Close Up (Mar-Dec 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.

CLOSE UP 335 The European Film section takes in its sweep, Sweden, Germany, "the land of fairy tales," France, and the U.S.S.R. To my mind it is in these chapters the book really comes into its own, perhaps because the author is herself European simply. There are excellent chapters on Pommer and Pabst, on Feyder and Clair; although it is impossible to agree, concerning Feyder, that his Therese Raquin was greater than Les Nouveaux Messieurs, " limited by its own superb qualities of satire." Limited to what? The intellect, surely? That's no limitation. Here, if anywhere, is a tonic film, healthy, mellow and robust; a kind of Silaenus among films, pagan and irreverent. A few more like it is exactly what we need. What's more, as subject matter it will never date, because of its laughter, its wholeness, the inevitable absurdity of statesmen. Beside it, when this epoch is over, much of the Russian output will seem cantankerous and tart — does now — a little livery. Instead of fretful, paranoiac gloating, Feyder tossed authority, to the winds with pungent and hearty gibes. What else is it fit for? It's the same thing as with Chaplin. People can't laugh any more. They want pathos, they demand to be aggrieved. An age of masochists, willing only to be abased, to concede the superiority of almost anything, particularly if it makes them uncomfortable. No wonder they get bilious and complain. What is undoubtedly the major attraction of a (let this be clear) very attractive book, is an approach both unmuddled and appreciative, to a subject about which more nonsense is spouted than almost any other. Ever so slightly pantherine is the dexterity of judgment. No hazards, no faint, hesitant theorisings. Not a bit of it. A model in compactness, in commonsense, which certainly does not exclude appreciations as sensitive as they are mature, catholic as they are orderly. K. M. Celluloid. The Film of Today. By Paul Rotha. Longman. 7s. Qd. There is in England today a group of young cineasts whose doctrine is based on the teachings of John Grierson. This doctrine is the offspring of a misunderstanding of Russian film technique on one side, and muddled thinking on the other, and now that one of Mr. Grierson's Young Gentlemen has taken to writing books, it is time to examine the mis-conception of cutting which is the foundation of his faith. The trouble seems to be that word " montage." To Mr. Rotha it means the joining together of film strips of varying lengths, and little else. To the Russians, who do not believe in metrical cutting, it means the complete synthesis of a film. The Russians looked to Hollywood, the home of film technique, for their foundations. They saw in Chaplin's method of creating a non-visual idea by the conflict of two distinct images, e.g., the shot of a collar cut into the conversation in A Woynan of Paris, the only practical way of expressing an idea on the screen. This led them to the increased use of the stationary camera and the straight cut. The time