Monthly Archives: September 2019
Quick note to those who follow this blog for news on Harpodeon. We’re temporarily closed due to a personal health issue. Hopefully we’ll return quickly.
Digital sales are back. Physical sales will be halted for another few weeks yet.
Some of the physical products (the ones we actually keep stock of and don’t just make on demand) are back online, both on the website and on eBay.
Just watched Be Natural, the recent documentary on Alice Guy-Blaché. My mother was hounding me to find out if we were credited for the footage we supplied and we were. She’s so much more caught up in that sort of thing than I am. Me, I don’t care, and plus, I rather trusted we would be. We’ve supplied footage to any number of documentaries and always have been without asking. There was a lovely documentary about some theatre in England that had a poster of The Juggernaut out front and we supplied footage of the train wreck. I watched that but I’ve forgotten what the title was, sorry. Also that William S. Hart thing that wanted footage of The Gun Fighter. Never saw that one, I’m not even certain what exactly it was, but the producer was quite polite. No budget affair so we didn’t charge anything. Standard fee is a flat $100 per title, but only budget allowing. Something to do with Ruth Roland wanted our episode of The Timber Queen, which is the only one available on video. They were in Florida — I remember that. I really don’t keep track of this sort of thing, if you couldn’t tell, and it all gets rather misty. Pamela Green licensed both Across the Mexican Line and A Severe Test — our copies being the only known extant of both — but they only used the former. I can’t say I’m surprised, as an objectively bad blackface suicide comedy doesn’t show Guy in a terribly good light. When they brought up Vinnie Burns and Marian Swayne and didn’t show a clip of Severe Test then, I knew they weren’t going to at all.
They should have got our copy of La Vie et la Passion de Christ (1906). We’ve got an excellent print of that — far better than the one they used. At some point I’ve a mind to scan it, clean it up, score it, and release it on DVD/Blu-Ray with the three Henri Andréani films. That would be longer than an hour — I’ve got a bit of a bugaboo there: I hate discs shorter than an hour. But I’ve a mind to do so many things at some point.
I didn’t know if the phone call recording would be used. It wasn’t and I’m rather glad it wasn’t — I’m not a public person. It was just rambling talk about film collecting. Snips of it were included in one of the Kickstarter videos, which I have to say nettled me a little, but I’ve quite gotten over it. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure how she found my number.
Was it an untold story? No, not really — not to those familiar with silent cinema, and it had been mostly covered already — but I’m quite ready to assume the general public have never heard of her. I’m sure their knowledge of pre-1920 cinema begins and ends with Chaplin and maybe, maybe Griffith among some of the more well informed laymen. A fine effort. I don’t belittle anyone who wants to extend silent cinema to a new generation. I think I’ve told this anecdote before, but I was once at a film screening of a Victor Sjöström drama and a man behind me that I wasn’t familiar with (it’s not a big town — everyone is going to notice a stranger) made a comment after the show that he wasn’t aware they made serious films in the silent era — thought it was all slapstick, he did.