Categoria: Cronologia 1919

Owen Nares: Why I Like and Dislike Film Acting

su da theain Cronologia 1919, Personaggi

I do both like and dislike acting before a film camera. I like it because of the relief it affords me from the monotony of stage work.

This is particularly so if I am acting in a play which is enjoying a long run.

The monotony of playing the same part night after night for two and three years is obvious to anyone. It also confines one to the town (or very near it) where the show is playing.

Lack of variety in one’s work does not tend to restfulness. You get into a groove and, like Micawber, would welcome something to turn up to jog the monotony.

The Earth for a Stage

I always find film work strangely restful, which is a great comfort. And only a busy actor can appreciate the real significance of a restful occupation. In the production of a film there are numberless “waits.” Curiously enough, this waiting about generally gets on the nerves of most artists. But I always manage to rest more during periods of taking a film than on a day I have no film engagement.

Plenty of Variety

The scenes for film productions are for the most part conducted amid beautiful pastoral surrounfings, which I thoroughly enjoy and appreciate.

Further, cinema acting is interesting work as opposed to stage work. Freedom of movement alone is of tremendous assistance to an actor. The average space of a stage in most of the theatres in the Kingdom is twenty square yards.

In a film, space is almost illimitable, providing it is in the focus of the camera.

The advantages thus gained are inestimable, and enables actors and actresses freedom of movement they desire, but cannot obtain, on the legitimate stage.

Screen acting calls for quite a different form of expression too. The eyes play an important part, whilst without facial expression an actor who is successful on the stage would assuredly fail before the camera.

Evening-Dress in the Morning

My reasons for disliking film acting are several.

The horror of driving about the countryside or suburbs with a yellow face, wearing evening-dress at ten o’clock in the morning, I confess I do not relish.

A yellow make-up is, of course, essential for film acting. When it is confined to the precincts of a studio, comment would be superfluous, but outside it…

Several “Reel” Wedding Days

I was once suspected of being a German spy by a dear old lady when operating in St. James’s Park in a propaganda film.

But far worse than this! I have been married several times on the film. Once the inevitable crowd that assembles to watch a film  “take” thought it was a real wedding.

£250.000 for Five Years’ Work

I have received some tempting offers to visit the States and do film work. And I realise the wonderful money to be earned there. My best offer was made to me by D. W. Griffith, who offered me work there which was to realise £250.000 in five years.

I preferred to stay in England and act.

Owen Nares (The Picture Show, May 3, 1919)

Instructional Films that Entertain

su da theain Cronologia 1919, Produzione

London. December 1919. A notable gathering recently witnessed the initial screening of the first series of educational films produced by British Instructional Films, Ltd. The audience included Members of Parliament, Members of the London County Council, Local Government and Educational Authorities, well-known professors of Science, Natural History, Astronomy, and, in fact, every note in the educational world. The programme of films screened comprised six very entertaining educationals, one of which was “The Evolution of a Caddis Fly.”

This interesting subject depicts the life history of this handsome fly, which lives a good portion of its existence under the water – the photography was remarkably sharp, and the treatment of the subject gave striking testimony of being the work of a master mind.

More about British Instructional Films, Ltd: The Bioscope

The Real Charlie Chaplin

su da theain Cronologia 1919, Personaggi1 commento
Charles Chaplin
Chaplin at home (1919)

To most men there is one thing that is above all things sacred, and that they would guard from the prying gaze of a curious world. This place they call “Home”.

The movie star, however, lives in the limelight, and earning a colossal salary, likes to have something to show for it. Which perhaps explains why the American magazines are full of flamboyant descriptions of the palatial residences of these super-twinklers on the film horizon.

There is one man, however, whose home is a sanctuary in the truest sense of the word, for Charlie Chaplin rightly argues that the man whose work places him continually in the public eye can only preserve his sanity and a wholesome outlook on life by reserving for himself a refuge to which he can retire, and, for a space, be – just himself.

Chaplin’s home is neither sumptuous nor Bohemian. Everything in his surroundings testifies to his excellent natural taste. He likes quiet, restful colours, comfortable furniture meant for use, and plenty of flowers. He is a great reader. I think music is his only real hobby outside his work, and a fine concert “grand,” his cello and violin, are the only articles of luxury in Charlie “den.”

He loves Work

Chaplin is first and foremost a worker. On his desk there ere always numerous scraps of paper full of comedy inspirations in his nervous, characteristic hand, and there is a dictaphone at his bedside to record any brain-waves that “happen along” during the night.

Charlie is naively detached in his attitude towards his wealth. He hates to be bothered with money, and when travelling, his secretary settles all his bills, and merely reminds his absent-minded “boss” of a morning that he has put a few banknotes into his pocket against emergencies. On a certain occasion, one of Chaplin’s bankers sent him a hurry call, as an important investment needed his personal attention. The messenger was  sent back with the answer that Charlie was open to discuss the matter if the manager would take a walk with him in the park. “I hate banks,” was the only reason he gave, “and I hate talking to men behind desks. I guess it’s because of the memory of the time when I was a little boy and went hunting for a job.”

His Early Struggles

He loves harmless fun and a good story, but fundamentally he is a serious man, and I think the memory of his early struggles has left a mark on his soul that time will never efface. “What I need, you know,” he once said in his quaint, whimsical way, “is someone to keep me from feeling pathetic about myself; someone to say, ‘Here, you poor little devil, what business have you to feel sorry for yourself, you poor lonely child, with non one to love you, and only about one million pounds between yourself and starvation? Come, get up here and work!’ That’s what I need.”

Charlie’s warm and unspoilt nature is best show in his passionate love of little children. There is a big hotel at Pasadena, and when he takes a day off from his work, he slips down there, gathers the children around him on the sunny porch, and tells them stories. Every child loves him, for he is still a child at heart, and they just feel he is one of themselves. His weekly post runs into thousands of letters, but those he treasures most are the ones that come from his little friends, telling him about all their joys and sorrows that mean so much to every child.

The Portrait Of A Woman

To conclude. Showing some pictures one day to a friend, Chaplin came to one, a woman portrait, at which he gazed for a time with loving, tender eyes. “My mother!” he then said simply. “To her I owe everything and all that I am to-day.”

And, knowing that a great son is invariably the work of a great mother, I still like to recall that memory of little Charlie Chaplin gazing with dim eyes at his mother’s picture.

E.C. (from The Picture Show – May 3, 1919)