The Silent Watchdog: Summer 2011

Posted July 12, 2011 at 7:20pm by Carl Martin, edited July 14, 2011 at 5:54am

The SF Silent Film Festival rolls around again, this time with all feature programs presented in 35mm (though only one shorts program). But how did the images get onto those lengths of acetate (or polyester)? Was it by contact or optical printing that preserves the essential, ineluctible connection between film image and past moment, or has the picture been scanned, jimmied with, and exported back onto film? Here are the fruits of my research into this matter:

Thursday, July 14

An exciting start to the festival is John Ford's long-lost backstage comedy Upstream, the first preservation to result from the recent identification of 75 American films at the New Zealand Film Archive. This informative article gives a great summation of the labwork involved, and I'll just point up the good news that no digital scanning was involved, just good-old fashioned elbow grease and photochemistry. A side note: the title of the film itself is an accident of history, being changed by Fox from The Public Idol, pre-release, to cover for another film that had been booked into theaters without actually being made. This re-christening has been enshrined in the new print and not subjected to revisionist Trumbo-izing. Accompanying short Why Husbands Flirt, also repatriated from the Kiwi cache, was similarly preserved and new prints made, stateside.

Janet Gaynor, George O'Brien in Sunrise
Next is F. W. Murnau's deservedly beloved Sunrise, to my mind one of only a handful of perfect films. I'm happy to say its custodians seem to be doing right by it. An article from American Cinematographer describes the restoration effort of this "slightly flawed gem" undertaken early last decade. These slight flaws are, of course, facets of its personality. Do note the discussion of the different sound (not talkie) and silent versions of the film. This restoration relies on prints of the sound version (original negatives of both versions having burnt in 1937), so we'll be missing that portion of the image taken up by the soundtrack we won't hear. Curiously, the one digital intervention to the image involves the intertitles, which as sometimes transpired had a pictorial element to them. They've been scanned and padded a bit to replace black slugs covering for lost frames. But I think we can be charitable here and applaud the effort all the same.

Friday, July 15

In the 1970's George Eastman House received a nitrate print, with Danish intertitles, of Huckleberry Finn, on which the festival print is based. A safety print was made in 1980, and the intertitles subsequently translated back to English (an inexact process, obviously). Mocked up digitally and printed to 35mm, these titles then had color added via the Desmet process (described in the article on Upstream cited above), and were spliced into the 1980 print, the balance of which remains strictly photochemical in origin, from which new preservation negatives and prints were made.

Tomio Aoki was born, but...
Yasujirô Ozu's wonderful I Was Born, But..., whose equally wonderful remake (also by Ozu) screened recently at the Viz, gets the Stephen Horne treatment. As for the print, it was struck in 2003 by Shochiku for Ozu's centennial tour, which touched down locally at the PFA. Though my source doesn't say so explicitly, I'm reasonably sure from his phrasing that this is an analog job.

As for The Great White Silence, the festival blurb quotes the BFI restoration team as using "the latest photochemical and digital techniques". Unfortunately, this understates the extent of the digital work done in this restoration. In fact, a photochemical restoration was undertaken in the 1990's, for which the best existing elements were printed and a new black and white positive made, but the cost and complexity of chemically reproducing the tinting and toning scheme of Herbert Ponting's film evidently forestalled this venture's completion. While dying and chemical toning are certainly the most authentic ways to color silent-era films, the Desmet process is an economical analog alternative. Instead, the BFI scanned all the best elements previously identified and worked in the digital domain thereafter. The only photochemical aspect of the job was the ultimate creation of preservation elements and a print, not one frame of which escaped digital processing along the way.

Pina Menichelli in Il fuoco
National Cinema Museum of Torino's restoration of Il fuoco is described here in mostly coherent English, but I'll recap. An unedited nitrate negative (I'm very curious why such an element would have existed), since lost, generated a safety dupe negative in the 1960's edited according to production notes and the censorship certificate. Intertitles inserted at that time have since been placed more accurately and, most noteworthy, tinting and toning achieved by the same methods used during the film's production (those deemed too expensive by the BFI). This is very rare indeed, and allows the use of proper monochrome stock for the print.

Saturday, July 16

Mauritz Stiller's Gunnar Hedes saga (The Blizzard) is the least complete film in the festival, missing a good third of its original footage. What there is derives from a tinted nitrate print duped to black-and-white negative by the Swedish Film Institute in the mid-70's. All that remain today of that nitrate print are isolated frames, but using these as a color reference, a Desmet-process tinted print was produced in 2009. Intertitles were compared with censor records and repositioned where necessary. Additionally, 26 intertitles missing from the incomplete film were reinstated in an effort to yield the most coherent narrative possible.

The Goose Woman is an all-photochemical preservation/restoration by UCLA based on two diacetate 16mm prints, one of them Kevin Brownlow's. (16mm nitrate was never produced as it would be too dangerous for the amateur market for which this gauge was intended. Diacetate is an early safety stock, a forebear of the more rugged triacetate which would eventually supplant 35mm nitrate in the 1950's.)

The restoration of Allan Dwan's Mr. Fix-It parallels almost exactly that of Huckleberry Finn above. A sole surviving tinted nitrate print was duped directly to safety stock, and then re-translations of the intertitles (from Italian this time) spliced back in. We will be treated to all-analog images here.

I just heard the word from the Friedrich-Wilhelm-Murnau-Stiftung, who assure me that Die Frau nach der man sich sehnt (The Woman Men Yearn For) is a copy, photochemically produced, by the Bundesarchiv in Berlin from unknown elements. Murnau-Stiftung, per their website, is certainly angling increasingly towards digital methods of restoration, but this is not a restoration at all.

Sunday, July 17

Lois Weber's Shoes, as intriguing a film as it sounds, will be shown in a print entirely the result of digital intervention, incorporating simulated tinting and re-translated (from Dutch) intertitles.

Lursmani cheqmashi (The Nail in the Boot) by Mikheil Kalatozishvili (Kalatozov, more familiarly) provides a fascinating case study of preservation and communication within the former Soviet Union. My contact, formerly of the Georgian National Film Center, describes having to use an intermediary outside the field in dealing with Gosfilmofond in Moscow, where the work was carried out. Apparently Moscow holds an original negative, and a new finegrain (interpositive), dupe neg, and screening print were struck, the last two sent to Georgia where further prints can be made in the future. This process was photochemical in its entirety--Gosfilmofond has the ability to scan digitally only at 2k resolution and without wet-gate (which would hide scratches). Unfortunately even their analog work suffers characteristic defects, as their printers evidently have only a sound aperture. This masks off the leftmost portion of the full silent frame, resulting in awkward compositions and off-center intertitles. Reputedly, prints from Gosfilmofond have for this reason become notorious at the Pordenone Silent Film Festival. My contact describes other dealings during this period with the Moscow lab, in one instance being refused permission to send a colleague to supervise subtitling, in another requesting a copy of Georgian silent Gogi Ratiani and receiving instead Gogi Otvajni Letchik, which had been thought a lost film. Who knows what kind of New Zealand-like trove resides there? Accompanying this film is the short Chess Fever, described to me as "a standard 35mm positive print", i.e. not a digital job.

Lon Chaney gets slapped
Victor Sjöström's He Who Gets Slapped is a print purchased by Eastman House from Turner in 1995. No further information is available as to the provenance of this print, but we can at least rest assured that it pre-dates the digital age.

So let's have a look at the tally: of the 13 features presented in 35mm, eleven are essentially fully photochemical in origin, and only two spat out of a digital pipeline. For the time being, it seems photochemistry reigns supreme at the Silent Film Festival.

Thanks to my correspondents, Brian Belovarac, Daniel Bish, Brian Block, Bryony Dixon, Nino Dzandzava, Eric Liknaitzky, Mark Standley, David Vashadze, Todd Wiener, and Anke Wilkening, for helping illuminate the behind-the-scenes work that went into these prints.