The soul of the moving picture (1924)

12 The Soul of the Moving Picture How we should like to hear the angels on the Altar of Ghent sing! How we should like to see the aurora of Michael Angelo broaden out the glorious body! The truth is, however, that the motion picture, even in its present imperfect state, gives us an abundance, indeed enough, of pleasurable sensations. For does it not depict the play of beautiful bodies, the wonders of the stormtossed sea, of the wind-swept plain? Does it not show us the flying clouds and foaming waves? It does; and we can consequently endure, for the time being, its colorlessness and its imperfections with regard to space, especially since there is wellfounded reason to believe that sooner or later the inventor will come forth and eliminate both of these defects. I am aware of one advantage. The film is mute where life itself is rich and resounding. One would fancy then at first blush that this were a disgraceful weakness on the part of the film, one that must be removed at once if the film is to survive. We, however, detect a distinct advantage in the muteness of fhe film. Every art must have a basic and fundamental soil, so to speak, in which its particular species of flowers flourish. Poetry has the spoken word, painting has color, music has sounds, the plastic arts the rigid body. It is in these that each seeks and enjoys its originality —