Showing posts with label Metropolis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Metropolis. Show all posts

Friday, April 4, 2014

Cinema in the 1920s - The Silent Era and the Birth of Talkies

The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat (1895)


The Big Swallow (c1901)


The Great Train Robbery (1903)


Frankenstein (1910)




The Circus (1929)




Steamboat Willie (1928)




Metropolis (1927)




Nosferatu (1922)



One Week (1920)

Thursday, April 26, 2012

The History of Sci-Fi Cinema Part I - The 1920s & 30s

COMMON THEMES
of Science Fiction of the 20s & 30s

class, socioeconomic, and political  roles and the burden of the 'everyman'





man's inhumanity to man





man's inner evil








TYPICAL STYLES
of Science Fiction of the 20s & 30s


German Expressionism



Art Deco




















































QUINTESSENTIAL TONE
of Science Fiction of the 20s & 30s

melodramatic

Friday, October 2, 2009

Frankenstein - Alive and Well

When I was a kid, my parents bought me real nice hard cover book about horror movies entitles The Best, Worst, and Most Unusual Horror Movies by Darrell Moore. This was the early to mid 1980s, so Poletergeist  was about as modern as it got. Anyway, I read that thing religiously and rented whatever titles I could from our local video stores. (Crystal Video, Corner Video, and Dollar Video - all extinct now, naturally.) I hunted these things down like a big game tracker. This is how I discovered Altered States, The Shining, and, yes, the original King Kong.
Up until then, I had settled for the cheesy 1970s Dino De Laurentis version, for which I still have a soft spot.
You've got to admit, it takes some guts to call a sequel of a 1933 film the "most exciting original motion picture of all time." It's kind of like calling the McRib the "tangiest, tastiest slow roasted pork barbeque sandwich ever made in the history of the universe." Which it isn't. Although it is pretty damn good, especially with the pickles. Whoever thought of throwing pickles on a McRib is some kind of mad genius. Speaking of mad geniuses...

The two most intriguing entries of Moore's book had to be Tod Browning's Freaks and Thomas Edison's Frankenstein. (Yes, that Thomas Edison. Thomas "The Lightbulb Guy" Edison made the world's first Frankenstein movie.) The book explained how in 1910 Edison's company produced a fifteen minute silent adaptation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, and how since then all copies of the film had been apparently lost. People even forgot the film existed until the 1960s, when some guy found a picture of an actor ion full creature make-up playing the film's moster. There was suddenly a mad rush to find an existing copy of this legendary film...but none had ever been found.

And that's where I left off with the story. The 1910 Edison Frankenstein was one of my few personal cinematic holy grails. That is until Brandon sent me a link to a copy of the film on Youtube. (See what happens when you limit your research to books that are over two decades old? I should have known...try the Internet! So studpid!) So here it is. Enjoy and let me know what you think. (And thanks a million, Brandon. Extra credit, my friend!)

There's pretty good history of the film by Rich Drees over at Film Buff Online here.

While I'm thinking of it, here are two more silent German fantasy classics you might enjoy along with our study of Metropolis. The picture quality of each is less than spectacular, but both of these feature length films probably rival Metropolis in terms of cultural significance and historical importance. The first is Nosferatu (1922), an early take on the story of Dracula.

The second is The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919).

Now that I think of it, every movie I mentioned in this entry was in that book. Man, that was a good book. I'm going to go home and see if I can find it. And by the way, if you've never heard of Browning's Freaks, good luck.

Reactions?

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Metropolis and the Uncanny Valley

As I was watching Metropolis yesterday, an intersting thing happened. A shot of the 'Machine Man' came up, and I thought, "Say, that looks pretty real."

But by "real" I didn't mean, "Say, that looks like a real robot." What I meant was, "Say, that cgi almost like it exists in the real world." Of course, the reason the 'Machine Man' looks like it actually exists is because it did actually exist - it was a pliable wooden costume made roughly sixty years before computer generated effects would even be used in films.

I'll say this one more time to be clear: I was watching a silent movie from 1927 and my reaction was that the computer generated special effects looked pretty good.

If you’re familiar with the “uncanny valley” theory, skip this paragraph. If not, here’s a pretty cool idea: In 1970 Masahiro Mori, a Japanese roboticist, published an article in which he describes a hypothesis he termed the “uncanny valley.” Basically, it says this. The more a robot or human facsimile looks like a human, the more familiarity we have with it, and the more we respond warmly towards it. (For example, for the most part people have warmer feelings towards baby seals than they do towards snakes, because baby seals look more human-like. And we like apes even more than seals, etc.) But there comes a point where this familiarity becomes too great, and instead of warmth, we feel repulsed.


According to Mori, people think that a little robot toy that hobbles around on two legs is cute, but the more super-human-like robots become, the more we’ll get creeped out by them. If one were to chart out this phenomenon, that dip where familiarity becomes repulsion is called the “uncanny valley.”


Star Wars = cute and cool. Back in the late 70s, this was a picture in a calendar hanging on my bedroom wall.

I, Robot = disturbing. This guy was never hanging from anyone's bedroom wall.

Polar Express = very disturbing. The only reason you'd hang this on your kid's wall is if you hated your kid.

But this still doesn't explain why I thought the robot in Metropolis looked "pretty good for cgi." I'm wonder this...The reason the uncanny valley exists is because our brains know we're being tricked, and our brains don't like it. When you're watching Star Wars, and you see a guy in a robot suit, your brain acknowledges that it’s a guy in a suit, and then your brain says, “Okay, so there’s a robot. What’s next? How’s that robot going to figure into the story?” But when we are presented with an image of a subject that we know can’t exist, but we’re being told does, our brains put up a fight. They resist the untruth. A paradox thus arises. The more realistic a fake character becomes, the less real it seems. When the filmmakers can’t get it just right, if there’s just one little movement off – the direction of a pupil, the weight of an arm, the bounce of hair – our brains yell out “Fake! Don’t believe a word of it! Liars!”

So what does this have to do with the 'Machine Man' of Metropolis? I have a theory. See if you can follow me, here. We as filmgoers are getting so used to being tricked, so used to being tossed down the ‘uncanny valley’, that we’re constantly trying to figure out the new rules of existance. This is where we live, now, but we don't like it. Things might seem pretty real, but our brains are being trained to look for mistakes, even when they don’t exist. It's like a magic show. We know that we're not actually seeing a woman defy gravity or get her head chopped off, so we spend our time trying to figure out how they pulled it off. And we're okay with that, because we bought the tickets and went to the theater to see a magician. But imagine walking outside the theater after the show and then seeing a woman get her head chopped off or flying through the air. Our brians woudn't be comfortable with not knowing where the game ended and reality began.

So while I was watching Metropolis, instead of seeing an actress in a mask, my brain saw a computer generated woman in a computer generated mask – because that’s what my brain is used to seeing. And my brain is trying to help me out. It doesn’t want me to be tricked, even when it’s not. So my brain flashed a red warning light: "Look out, dude. This is probably not real. We can't tell exactly why, but it's better to err on the side of caution."

So here’s my question: Is this new existence of ours in the ‘uncanny valley’ retraining our brains? Is this the boy who cried wolf? We’re so used to being lied to (in terms of digital images), that we’re don’t accept the truth even when there is no lie?


One of these two futuristic cities actually existed in the real world - at least in terms of being a model made of wood and glue and paint - and the other existed only as data, as a series of imaginary ones and zeros. And our brains are being trained to work very hard to tell the difference. Maybe too hard. Are we starting to see ones and zeros even when they aren't there?

I guess I’ll call this hypothesis the “wolf in the valley.” So, do you agree? Am I right? Or am I over thinking things? To what degree, if any, are modern digital special effects ruining our ability to appreciate the non-digital special effects of yesteryear?