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PREFACE
facts, information, and brief criticisms of such films, produced up till the date of writing, as I consider of interest, together with notes on their directors. The aim here has been partly to substantiate my theoretical deductions and partly to provide a source of reference for students of the cinema. It must be remembered that the life of a film is short. It fades into the past with rapidity and is only to be seen again with difficulty. Moreover, reliable data about even quite well-known films is scarce and sometimes unprocurable. Secondly, I have attempted to investigate the film as a means of expression; to catalogue its attributes as evidenced till now; and to speculate upon its potentialities as suggested by its course of development.
At the risk of redundancy, I wish to draw attention to the important part played by the emphasis of detail in filmic representation, a factor which I have stressed in my theoretical chapters. This significance of detail is characteristic not only of modern cinema but of all contemporary art. And in particular I refer to the recognition of the value of the inanimate. Although this feeling for detail is prevalent, for example, in the novel of to-day, it is also the foundation of the emotions created by the work of Zola and Dostoievski. I am convinced that the former's 'La Debacle' and the latter 's 'Crime and Punishment' contain the fundamental (non-technical) basis of the Soviet cinema. Of equal importance to-day are Arnold Zweig's 'The Case of Sergeant Grischa,' and Herman Hesse's semi-autobiographical 'Steppenwolf,' both of which probably suggest the power of the cinema far more vividly than my own expression. It is in the film's unique faculty for the collective representation of detail that lies its primary claim to being the greatest of all forms of expression. There exists practically no object outside the range of the camera and the microphone which cannot be brought in terms of contrast or similarity to emphasise, both visually and aurally, filmic argument. I suggest that it is the power of selecting the most expressive detail for emphasis of purpose that distinguishes the good film director from the bad.
In the light of current events, I realise that I have laid myself open to serious attack by refusing to acknowledge the cacophonous omnipresence of the dialogue film. But, after renewed consideration, provoked by the appearance of Hallelujah ! and The Virginian, I maintain the opinion subsequently expressed. As a mechanical invention the dialogue film is doubtless marvellous, and by the aid
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