Tag: storia del cinema muto

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)

Giorgio Bocca racconta Giovanni Pastrone

su da theain Notizie, Personaggi
Giovanni Pastrone
Giovanni Pastrone

Poche ore fa è arrivata la notizia della scomparsa di Giorgio Bocca, prolifico giornalista e scrittore italiano nato a Cuneo nel 1920. Mi dispiace aver scoperto un articolo di Bocca su Giovanni Pastrone troppo tardi (troppo tardi per poterlo includere nella bibliografia pubblicata nel volume Cabira & Cabiria, Il castoro – Museo Nazionale del Cinema, 2006). Secondo me è uno dei migliori mai pubblicati dalla stampa italiana ed internazionale a proposito del ragionier Pastrone: “Il De Mille di ponte Trombetta”.

Ecco a voi qualche estratto:

Non si era iscritto né al fascio né alla DC, non era massone, non era commendatore e, per giunta, non era neppure espansivo e traffichino. Ma che voleva il ragionier Giovanni Pastrone? Che il nostro cinema, in quarant’anni di targhe, medaglie, grolle, leoni, nastri e coppe si ricordasse di premiare anche lui? Solo perché gli doveva moltissimo?

Tempo fa, che era già ammalato, lo pregarono di incidere la sua voce su un disco, per il museo del cinematografo. Disse no. Potevano prendere le pellicole, le lastre, i disegni, i brevetti, l’epistolario con D’Annunzio e tutti gli altri cimeli, ma non la sua voce di vecchio ammalato.  Che cosa, in questa voce, avrebbe potuto ricordare  l’altra, forte e decisa nella cadenza dialettale, che una mattina del lontano 1912 aveva ordinato alla Almirante Manzini: «Oggi si lavora con il leopardo. Niente paura, entro anche io nella gabbia»?

(…)

Per farvi un’idea del personaggio Pastrone state a sentire cos’è il nostro cinematografo nel 1907. Per la gente colta e per bene è uno spettacolo da fiera, una speculazione balorda, una avventura plebea, da osservare con disprezzo.  Si dubita ancora della fotografia («Ieri ai cortesi ospiti venne offerta una fotografia eseguita dal cavalier Ippolito Leonardi che ottenne una ammirevole somiglianza»), figuriamoci  di quelle immagini grigie ed epilettiche prodotte dai cinematografari.

E poi è gente senza morale. Scritturano «delinquenti come il Buffa, appena uscito dal carcere», si fan seguire da un codazzo «di persone di ogni risma ed età che impiegano come figuranti», sarebbe ora che la polizia mettesse fine alle orge che avvengono al Cavallo Grigio, loro luogo di ritrovo e l’ultima è che pubblicheranno un giornale «diretto dal ben noto Caronte del Fischietto, su cui leggeremo le birbonate di attualità».

Il ragionier Giovanni Pastrone, impiegato di banca ad Asti, si trova un posto in questo equivoco mondo, diventa contabile della Carlo Rossi e C. produttrice «in proprio di pellicole impressionate».

C’è un modo che è tipico dei provinciali piemontesi di accettare qualsiasi ambiente, senza timore né scandalo, restando, nella sostanza, quelli di prima. Caduto nella bolgia del primo cinema torinese il ragionier Pastrone ci lavora come se fosse ancora all’istituto di San Paolo. Le pellicce della Makowska, la prodigalità del Collo, gli occhi della Jacobini, la girandola dei milioni, delle truffe, degli amori non incantano in giovanotto che preferisce l’ordine e che, sbrigata in un’ora la contabilità, si interessa di macchine, di obiettivi, di produzione.

Se occorre una scenografia Pastrone la disegna, sa come far muovere le comparse, sa farsi rispettare anche dai divi, è il solo che sappia mimare una scena per fargli capire ciò che desidera.

(…)

A Torino Pastrone è nel lavoro fino agli occhi. Per ogni scena di masse (di Cabiria n.d.c.) disegna di suo pugno una piantina con i tempi e gli spostamenti successivi. Poi sperimenta le prime carrellate. Sono troppo veloci, il pubblico che assiste alle proiezioni di prova nella saletta privata dell’Itala esce con la nausea, bisogna modificare il movimento e gli obiettivi.

Per far scaturire le fiamme della bocca del Moloch usa degli acidi appena giunti dalla Germania. Una fiammata gli guizza sulla fronte, porterà per tutta la vita la cicatrice.

(L’Europeo, 12 luglio 1959)

Queer Qualifications

su da theain Cronologia 1911, Produzione

Some of the reasons advanced by applicants for positions with Motion Picture stock companies to prove their availability are odd, to say the least.

At least three companies received a letter from a man who wrote that he was well fitted to play “sad parts” as his own life had been passed in the deepest gloom, and he knew he could “act pathetic” to order. Just to prove his point he gave three pages of generous size to his many woes. He didn’t get a job.

Another letter writer was anxious to get with a “film troupe” because his life ambition was to be a cowboy, and he was convinced that the cowboy in the pictures had the better time of it, since the night riding and contact with cows was avoided.

Unique was the writer who confessed that he liked to see his own photographs, the inference being that he wanted to see himself on the screen; while another argued his fitness for romantic rôles because  his feminine friends all applauded his love-making.

A jockey whose license had been taken away frankly confessed that he could keep his horse in any position the director decided, and could show others how to do the same; and a carpenter wanted to help build the scenery in the intervals of his acting, and draw double salary.

One dramatic actor actually obtained a position because he had been a hospital steward before he had gone upon the stage, and his knowledge could be utilized.

But the lady who offered as a bonus to tell the sad story of her life, and act it in the pictures, was turned down, as was the army private who created a sensation last summer by escaping from the U. S. Hospital for the Insane, at Washington, and marrying a girl he had been engaged to. He was released on court order, and pending this action he applied for a steady position, with his own romance as his first appearance.

A small Brooklyn boy wanted to act because he had read many stories about Indians, and another youngster urged that be possessed a sweet soprano voice that would aid in the effectiveness of church scenes.

A girl who had posed for a series of calendar picitures thought that qualified her for the moving sort, and another suggested that she was well known in her home town, and her engagement would assist in building up trade among its 5,000 inhabitants. Not many applicants realize that  acting ability is essential, and are surprised to learn that this is the first requisite.
(from The Motion Picture Story Magazine, october 1911)