Joys of Silent Film
Silent film is one of my ventures in quixotic sainthood. Just as Don Quixote was born too late to participate in the heyday of knighthood, I was born too late to be a silent film maker-- but I made some anyway.
Sunday I went to the Denver Silent Film Festival-- and watched the final film, Underworld. Howie Movshowitz introduced the movie. Beforehand, in the lobby, I came very close to approaching him and confessing my sin of unofficially auditing his silent film class at CSU Denver back in 1979. My only excuse was that the class was so good. He's so listen-able.And then yesterday I was listening to Roger Ebert's memoir book on my MP3 player and found out Ebert always went out for a bite to eat with Movshowitz-- who once appeared as a guest reviewer on Ebert's show shortly after Siskel died-- whenever Ebert visited Boulder. Here I've been reading (or listening to) books all my life, and this was the first one mentioning Movshowitz.
After the movie I passed Hank Troy in the audience. I came very close to telling him how much I enjoyed his ragtime hour on KVOD back in the '70s, and that I heard him play piano as accompaniment for my first viewing of Buster Keaton's The General.
But my love of silent film goes back even further. It started with Laurel and Hardy on TV. And then I learned of Chaplin and Keaton. I would get up at 2AM, go down to our basement whenever I saw their movies listed on the late, late, late show. It makes me think of another movie, The Comic where Dick Van Dyke portrayed a silent film comedian-- and in the last shot-- or was it the first?-- he's an old man and he gets up late at night to watch himself on TV. I loved that movie.Maybe it was the inspiration for the novel I wrote in high school called The Man in the Cap and Vest-- which is kind of a dud of a title, much like the tiny book. It too was about a silent comedy star and his Christian efforts (quixotic efforts, perhaps) to avoid the corrupting influences of Hollywood-- though I probably had very little notion of the extent of the latter.
High school was when my younger brother Winslow and I joined The Sons of the Desert, the Laural and Hardy society that met at the Englewood Library. Like the silent film fest, it provided the communal aspect of movie-going that always adds to the enjoyment. Winslow and I still remember one son of the desert who had a big, generous laugh.
In the mid-90s I made a silent film called The Solicitor. It ran on public access TV. I should convert it to digital and put it on Youtube sometime.
And then I made three very short silents for the women's retreat at my church. I think I'll put those on Youtube soon.
Of late, I've seen more than one montage sequence of film, silent or otherwise, accompanied by the aquarium music from Saint-Saens's Carnival of the Animals. It's very fitting music, corresponding with the very dream-like quality silent film has. It's an absolutely wonderful media. I may write more about it another time. But the best writing I've seen about it is in Walter Kerr's Silent Clowns. (Come to think of it, that would be a great birthday gift for yours truly. You have time. October 20. But given its large format, and the fact that it's a classic, I'm hesitant to even check out how much it costs.)
At any rate, the film festival was wonderful and I look forward to next year's.
Sunday I went to the Denver Silent Film Festival-- and watched the final film, Underworld. Howie Movshowitz introduced the movie. Beforehand, in the lobby, I came very close to approaching him and confessing my sin of unofficially auditing his silent film class at CSU Denver back in 1979. My only excuse was that the class was so good. He's so listen-able.And then yesterday I was listening to Roger Ebert's memoir book on my MP3 player and found out Ebert always went out for a bite to eat with Movshowitz-- who once appeared as a guest reviewer on Ebert's show shortly after Siskel died-- whenever Ebert visited Boulder. Here I've been reading (or listening to) books all my life, and this was the first one mentioning Movshowitz.
After the movie I passed Hank Troy in the audience. I came very close to telling him how much I enjoyed his ragtime hour on KVOD back in the '70s, and that I heard him play piano as accompaniment for my first viewing of Buster Keaton's The General.
But my love of silent film goes back even further. It started with Laurel and Hardy on TV. And then I learned of Chaplin and Keaton. I would get up at 2AM, go down to our basement whenever I saw their movies listed on the late, late, late show. It makes me think of another movie, The Comic where Dick Van Dyke portrayed a silent film comedian-- and in the last shot-- or was it the first?-- he's an old man and he gets up late at night to watch himself on TV. I loved that movie.Maybe it was the inspiration for the novel I wrote in high school called The Man in the Cap and Vest-- which is kind of a dud of a title, much like the tiny book. It too was about a silent comedy star and his Christian efforts (quixotic efforts, perhaps) to avoid the corrupting influences of Hollywood-- though I probably had very little notion of the extent of the latter.
High school was when my younger brother Winslow and I joined The Sons of the Desert, the Laural and Hardy society that met at the Englewood Library. Like the silent film fest, it provided the communal aspect of movie-going that always adds to the enjoyment. Winslow and I still remember one son of the desert who had a big, generous laugh.
In the mid-90s I made a silent film called The Solicitor. It ran on public access TV. I should convert it to digital and put it on Youtube sometime.
And then I made three very short silents for the women's retreat at my church. I think I'll put those on Youtube soon.
Of late, I've seen more than one montage sequence of film, silent or otherwise, accompanied by the aquarium music from Saint-Saens's Carnival of the Animals. It's very fitting music, corresponding with the very dream-like quality silent film has. It's an absolutely wonderful media. I may write more about it another time. But the best writing I've seen about it is in Walter Kerr's Silent Clowns. (Come to think of it, that would be a great birthday gift for yours truly. You have time. October 20. But given its large format, and the fact that it's a classic, I'm hesitant to even check out how much it costs.)
At any rate, the film festival was wonderful and I look forward to next year's.
Yes! Put The Solicitor on youtube!! (Allie)
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