TOKYO STORY, 1953. Dir. Yasujiro Ozu

        Tokyo Story is a film about people, identity, culture and values that combined, mirror a distinct and unique Japanese life. The film unveils a world completely of its own. A world separate from anything anyone can understand, without living and being Japanese themselves.

        This is what I find very interesting about culture. Unless you have been born into a particular race or culture, or raised by those foreign to your own identity, you have no idea what it is like to be eastern or western, for there is such a divide between the two. This divide between the east and the west is as grand as the distance in oceans that separate these different shores, and yet simultaneously, can be marked by a thin hairline crack. Being eastern or western, you will never be able to understand the other. Even with, I would suggest, ethnographic or symbolic anthropological study Clifford Geertz! Though ‘Sayuki’ below is living proof that perhaps I’m wrong?

Figure 1: ‘Sayuki’ (centre) no longer refers to her western name, Fiona Graham, who now teaches local and foreign students about Japanese traditional culture from a foreign perspective, as well as providing foreign perceptions of Japan.

HUH???

        Watching Tokyo story magnified something completely alien to what I know about life and the people I share it with. When I was growing up, I learnt to be an individual; to be creative and adventurous, and to express love and feeling, acting in a way that was natural to me and what I believed in. Now I cannot really make any clear statements or judgement of how Japanese people have been raised by their culture and race, though I might say, that belonging to a culture as defined historically and deeply rooted in tradition as the Japanese, I doubt being raised in any other way was/is possible. I do not mean to shed bad lighting on a culture that I do not understand. Growing up with morals and duties and having honour are all respectable and admirable. However, it is the extent to which, such morals and duty become the Japanese way of life that differs from westerners (mostly) way to live life.

Figure 2: "I'm sorry, your family is ruined!"

Certain opinions in the film that stood out for me as some-what problematic included, “What if your sister isn’t who she really is?” and “Don’t you care that it can ruin our lives?” such quotes suggests that the Japanese are concerned with how they behave and appear in front of others, particularly family, in its potency to scar or bruise the family name or identity. Obviously this is also a concern of western families and people, though not knowing who someone is, or who they might be that is different to being true to themselves, is unusual. It is even more unusual, that a person can have such a deep impact on the entire family that it would lead other family members to disown them for their acts that have tarnished the families name and prospects. It is made evident in the film, that once the sister’s (I would say) ‘nocturnal self’ is discovered; she is no longer welcomed and accepted by friends or her employees. Though even sadder, she is no longer part of her own family; a family that she has raised and taken all measures to guarantee protection and security. 

        It seems in this particular portrayal of Japanese life and customs, forgiveness is hard to come by, if at all. For some reason, suicide is much more respectable than forgiveness. And I suppose this is where the east and west divide more than anywhere else. In western view, nothing is worth dying for that I think differs from the east, where conquering death is being fearless, and honourable.

        I think the Japanese have a culture that we can all learn from, though one step at a time. At face value, they appear quiet and contemplative, highly respectful of others, and polite. Now who can list any western cultures that hold ALL these attributes and more? Such qualities are presented throughout the film during typical Japanese meal time, which is conducted sitting on the floor, to the woman’s everyday house-chores and taking care of her husband and family indoors. Their lifestyle seems functional and successful, though in the film, I think the director has captured a side of this standard of living that is more imprisoning and grey. Yet generally, in having rules and duty, I think the Japanese actually find some peace and pleasure in such accomplishments. Perhaps they lack a lot of freedoms that westerners have easy access too, though I think for the most part, they do not sugar-coat a life that is either tough or easy, it is very black and white. It is also appears very natural.  

Figure 3: Meal time, Japanese style

 

        In attempt to find some sort of conclusion in where the east and west diverge, it is that you will be born as a person from a definite race. Your skin will always be your skin and that which (at first appearances) defines you. Your culture may change and adapt depending on where you are raised and where you live. (While I am sure I will have disagreements to this opinion) you cannot be truly ‘Asian’ if you are a westerner who lives in Asia, nor can you be western if you are Asian living in the USA or any other predominantly white nation. You might be westernised as an Asian, but you are not American, for example. Of course the exception to this and that which has made Australia into the multicultural nation that it is today, is if you come from an Asian family, but are born and raised in Australia. And this is where the east and west divide becomes that hairline crack.     

        Your background is one of the most important things that define who are you, (though perhaps differing (generally) from a strict Asian up-bringing), you have the ability to transform into who you want to become. I think cultural identity is so important for a world that is characterised by diversity. If the world’s people were all the same, it would not be world worth living in. Human history is an array of languages, religions, histories and cultures, and as in Tokyo story, it is important to get a glimpse of a people and place that is so different to your own, making you aware of a world that is much bigger than you will ever be a part of. However, I will say, without sounding too hopeless, there is always opportunity to get a taste of it!

'Kaleidoscopic Jazz Chair’ 1960. Dir. Charles and Ray Eames

I Love IKEA. There is not ONE thing about the place I don’t like. In fact, to me a day spent at IKEA, is a day well spent.

        You’re always bound to end up leaving with a smile on your face, shopping bags that aren’t weighing you down financially, and, if they’ve got them in stock, a mouth-watering Choklad LJUS (Milk Chocolate bar) – wrapper torn at the ready –  as a ‘job well-done treat’, AND costing no more than a miniscule dollar!

Buy me, I'm delicious!

        However, recently I discovered that my Swedish sanctuary was founded in 1943, which was completely puzzling and disappointing as I thought it was a Gen X innovation that Gen Y had since adopted and popularized as the no. 1 ‘go-to’ furniture outlet.

        I thought IKEA was another triumph of gen y culture that like many others has infected the world countless times over, like Apple and its family of IPods, IPhones and IPads, or YouTube and social networks like facebook and twitter.

        Yes, maybe shopping at IKEA means that you enjoy a good bargain, but it also means that you embrace the modern, and that you yourself have cool design flair.

        And I’m pretty sure us Millenial’s (gen Y’s) were the ones who turned IKEA into a pronoun, as a friend might say, “What a comfy bed” to our natural reply, “it’s an IKEA”.

        Though disappoint aside that IKEA was actually founded at the cusp of modernity in the early 20^th century, I still believe that it is one of today’s modern feats that gen X  and Y’s (like myself) are able to enjoy. And I understand as a product of modernity, it is subject to change accordingly to each generation’s needs, which brings me to my point of discussion of the Eames chair.

        Ultra-modern for its time, the Eames single chair became the star prop in the film ‘Kaleidoscopic Jazz Chair’ by Charles and Ray Eames; a film and subject matter equal in modernity and their influence.

        Just like IKEA, the Eames chair and its family of couches and ottomans have been continuously recycled since their founding. Contemporary designers and retailers have repeatedly mirrored and reconfigured the original sleek and effortless design for a wide market of contemporary homes and modern day living standards (generally speaking).

       Below is an example of the original Eames Arm Chair and a re-creation of its design by Matt Blatt in 2011. Spot the difference?



Original Eames Armchair, 1950

 

 

Matt Blatt Eames Armchair, 2011.

 

        I think the concept of design of the Eames chair and brands like IKEA has bred a new culture of people embracing a simpler, eco-friendly and economically sustainable lifestyle and environment.

        Since modernity’s influence from the early-mid 20^th century, the world has (ironically) become smaller, enhanced by technology and communications. Values have changed and our lives have become far more directed towards the future.

        I can see this in ‘Jazz Chair’, a film equal in modernity to its subject (the Eames chair), inspiring an audience confident in the new world through modern design.

        ‘Jazz Chair’ actually reminds me of a typical IKEA commercial; both are clean and fresh in their approach in portraying something innovative, colourful and bold, with a simple yet striking message.

        In ‘Jazz Chair’, there are two people brought closer together by the Eames chair, that I suggest parallels to an IKEA commercial I found on YouTube advertising the range of ‘possibilities’ one has living with your partner* in a shared space designed and fashioned by IKEA furniture.

          In the ad, the room is constantly transforming, adapting for both function and aesthetic purposes to suit various modern lifestyles.  In the Eames film, the chairs similarly present a rainbow of colours that rapidly change altering our mood(s) and how we imagine each belonging in different spaces. The Eames chair like the IKEA room sees a series of ‘possibilities’ for suiting every contemporary lifestyle.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7vXP3tHzhA

        Both Charles and Ray’s film and the IKEA commercial are dynamic and eye popping; their choppy editing style and bouncy energetic music keep audiences interested and entertained.

        While there may be a lot too take-in visually in both the short film and ad, with no voice-over or figures and information, each succeeds in reaching a modern day audience who seek (generally) entertainment at a much more rapid pace and accessible form. 

        And what is fun about the film and the IKEA ad is the use of props that come alive in a trippy style of animation. In Charles and Ray’s short film (with aid of the feel-good Jazz music), it’s like the chairs take on a life of their own. In fact, the panning across the seats and flipping shots of one chairs back to the other, reminds me of the style of camera angles and techniques used in the scene ‘Let’s go to the movies’ from the original 1982 film, ‘Annie’. If you watch from about 2mins 20secs in of this clip, you’ll see the parallels of camera angles used to capture the isle boys lighting the way to the entrance to the Can-Can girls lifting their heads up one after each other on stage.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wftKf04N5r0

        In the IKEA ad the furniture in the rooms also take on a life of their own; tables slide across the floors, doors appear from blank walls, and sofas and chairs resize and adapt to the mood and purpose of the countless rooms we see.

KING KONG (1933) co-dir. Cooper and Schoedsack

I think what stood out and planted a seed in my mind sprouting lots of different questions about the film King Kong, had to be its concern with costume, to the extent of identity.  And by costume, I don’t mean the textiles and fabrics that style each characters personality and culture, but costume in the sense of wearing a particular identity; the costume that NYC wear's for instance, suggests something powerful, awe-inspiring and unrivalled. Though is the Big City a costume in disguise? Is its costume identity stereotypical of the big City? Was NY really a visually idyllic landscape dripping with modernity in isolation from this glimpse we get of a pre-historic, exotic, yet chaotic jungle that is Skeleton Island? Whether or not NYC really identified a place that saw itself as exclusive from the rest of the world; a city where people could transcend their appearance, costume and identity? (Like Anne who transforms into a Broadway beauty.) But as well, what it would mean if something unknown and wild such as King Kong was to strip the city bare of its costume and identity – de-clothe NYC, if you will, that mirrored this grand and tailored outfit? This city with its fitting grid-system and sleep skyscrapers, that at the time were the first being built in the world! Every other city aspired to look like NY.



Kong Peeling away at Anne's Costume?



Though as well as NYCs own costume, I think its fair to say that King Kong also wears a costume that’s actually very similar to our heroine, Anne. Both are shabby looking creatures that when founded in their own environment, seem to belong. Anne becomes the beauty that belongs on stage and to the camera, as King Kong, the beast to his jungle. The idea behind wearing a costume sees the transformation of Anne’s grunge NY look to something more romanticised and exotic for the camera. Though King Kong is able to remove this glamorous costume, identity, as we see him peeling the layers of clothing away from Anne as if he were peeling the skin of a banana!

As well the imagery of Anne kneeling down with both arms bound in a tight grip from the natives, parallels to the image of Kong up on stage in chains; Anne is taken hostage and manipulated as Kong was.
 

King Kong in Chains




Anne bound in Jungle

And the way the natives offer up Anne to Kong who he takes behind the islands walls is similar to the way that Kong is captured and taken to NYC, to be marvelled at and imprisoned within the city’s own walls. The natives are please with what they see, that is similar to NYCs public who (initially) are also in awe with Kong. The native’s ritualised performance contrasts to the upper and upper-middle class ritualised performance that is Vaudeville theatre going on Broadway in NYC. Each place is made identifiable and symbolic by their aesthetic costume that represents diverse culture, society and class, dressed up or dressed down!

So from this it seems the film is constantly concerned with, or attempting to generate attraction with regards to what and how everyone will look like. And it turns into a kind of ticking anxiety to capture the "picture perfect" actress, shot, movie, similar to the way this notion of “seeing is believing” (quoted from the actor casted as the Director in the film), becomes a promise or guarantee throughout the film. The director gives a look to Anne as the films star heroine and we believe it. (For example when Anne is taught how to gaze and scream on the boat.) As well, we see a monster like King Kong exists, and we believe it. The Director says, “I’m going to go out and make the greatest picture in the world, something that no one has ever seen or heard of!” he desperately desires to capture what everyone wants to see and what they can’t ever imagine seeing. Though I think what’s interesting about this particular mission of his, is how this “seeing is believing” also applies to what I will coin, the ‘beauty and the beast dilemma'. Can we really say that Kong was a beast because he looked that way, because we saw him that way: destructive in his nature and came from the jungle? Or was he only a beast in comparison to the fair, golden haired beauty that was Anne? As the director says, “the public must have a pretty face to look at” to the response “Sure everyone likes a bit of romance!” The director continues, “if this picture had love in it, it would grow twice as much!” It was important how the production of the film looked like to the public, dazzling audiences with a show that they had never seen before and in many ways, one that they could romanticise over and fall in love with. It was important how the film would look like lit up and glistening in bright shiny lights on Broadway that the director imagines, ‘THE EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD’. He challenges Kong and the beastly costume he dresses him in saying, "He’s always been king of his world, but we’ll teach him fear". This 'fear' is a feeling generated from costume stereotyping identity. And married to this idea of fear is the not knowing what will be revealed, or what the unknown might or might not look like, that becomes part of this big mystery towards the exoticism of the jungle and Kong himself. For example the fear associated with Skull Island with its overall gloom and mist and the eerie music that is played in the background to set the ominous landscape as the ship edges closer to the island. As well, the monstrous creature himself Kong are both unknown, thus generate a sense of fear. For the city of NY though, colossal in size and its architectural brilliance such as the Empire State Building (that we see Kong scaling and conquering) represents the type of fear that is intimidating though fascinating to the world.

So when looking at costume as identity how important was the representation of Kong that was the biggest monster and fear to rival the city of New York? What can we suggest about costume that transforms identity? i.e. Anne who turns shabby into chic - beauty good enough for Broadway. Is this transformation inspiring or a disguise? And lastly, while leaning towards “seeing is believing”, was Kong really seen as a beast from the Jungle or was he only a beast in comparison to his beauty, Anne? Similarly, did NYC represent its own kind of urban concrete jungle that was chaotic and barbaric like that culture and life seen on Skeleton Island?

'Man with a Movie Camera' Dir. Dziga Vertov

When I was watching Man with a Movie Camera, a thought struck me changing my entire perspective of the film’s intention(s) and how I would continue to watch it till its end. This thought of mine turned into a puzzling (and rather broad) question: ‘What is the purpose of film?’ And what was the purpose of (this) film as a product of modernity? This query of mine arose from Vertov’s introductory imagery; A miniature of the movie maker himself standing on the top of his camera.

http://www.uniondocs.org/wpcontent/uploads/2007/08/manwithamoviecamera01.jpg

Initially, I found this humorous and comical. Then I began to wonder whether this was a film (for the purpose of entertaining) or a documentary (capturing some aspect of reality and the movie making process) that I was watching? In terms of being a doco, it seemed to have the basics down pat; where the action was happening the camera man went; adapting into every environment, branching out into every nook and cranny of this concrete jungle. To emphasise this movie making experience, the camera man juxtaposed close-up shots of the camera itself to the film it was taking. We see how the camera sets up the shot, and what it looks like before, during, and after the filming sequence. However, this film is also far removed from the documentary genre being silent with no characters, narrative or plot. As well, that it features people as a product of their environment – a characteristic of the avant-garde and the modern era. At one point, when scenes are fast forwarded the imagery appears surreal, people and the cityscape become incomprehensible and chaotic. To narrow down the answer to my puzzling question, I did a little web-browsing and you Tubing, till I found this brilliant clip that was not only completing inspiring, but it also raised a lot of interesting interpretations and experiences of documentary film-making, that helped me to understand my initial query into the purpose Vertov’s film; whether this was a silent documentary film – a portrayal of city life in Odessa and other Soviet cities in 1929, or whether there was a little fiction and an agenda to entertain audiences who had all the flexibility and freedom to interpret it as they wished. Because this was an experimentalist film, this freedom was all part of the process of its creation, function and value.

This You Tube clip entitled ‘Capturing Reality: The Art of Documentary Film-making’, interviewed a series infamous documentary film makers on their experience, response and attitudes to their own art practice; responses that I questioned alongside the type of film Vertov had made. Jennifer Fox said “[Documentary] is about being inspired by the moment; it’s about the joy of letting something affect you and respond, whether it’s with your camera or yourself as a person.” I responded both to Vertov’s camera that he used as a prop, and as a film maker in regards to the action and effort he made choosing what moments to capture. Scott Hicks was correct that such an experience of film can trigger ones “emotions”. He says, “It [documentary film-making] is an emotional medium, not about intellectual engagement.” It was emotional for me because it drew upon many of my senses without my understanding of the true nature of their occurrence. For example, Vertov’s use of freeze framing shots of men performing high jump, hurdles and shot put, capturing the awe of that moment was an awe of human movement, as well as the capability of his camera and film technique. In expressing this it seems that my understanding of each films purpose – in one way to entertain – is related to one’s emotional engagement and attachment that documentary films evoke. “When you see a film and you have good reason to think that it’s the truth, than your knowledge of the real world has been increased.” (Albert Mayseles) This quote to me was particularly striking, not only because it is beautifully imagined, but in the context of Vertov’s film, watching the real people in this real city, conducting daily rituals that (as well) they would do every other day, I was in many ways experiencing their reality, and thus, as Mayseles says, “increasing our [my] knowledge of the world [at a time of modernity].”

Even if Vertov’s film does not evoke a certain purpose it does not mean it doesn’t have one. And does it even have to have one? We accept his images of everyday life that simultaneously reflect the conventions of film and documentary rituals during this time. I just thought it would be interesting to travel down this road of questioning what we see, rather than just accepting it for what it is. If I were to come to any conclusion, it would be that Film is to be seen, and that is its ultimate purpose.

Watch 'Capturing the reality: The Art of Documentary' and be inspired.

Berlin: Symphony of a Great City (1927) Dir. Walter Ruttmann

For a film that is silent it sure makes a lot of noise! Berlin: Symphony of a Great City (1927) is a silent black and white film that experiments with space and mass to increase or soften imaginary volume and dynamics. Props in this film are crucial. Props are the people, transport, buildings, roads and animals that depending on their level of mass or quantity make sound in the film come to life. In a sense, sound is equal to mass and space. The level of sound and volume varies according to the amount of space that is filled in each shot.

In the first ‘AKT’ (Act) of this film we are in motion with a train travelling in the direction of our destination – the great city of Berlin. Arrival in the city is quiet, grey and deserted. Workers in dark clothing appear as silhouettes or shadows, creeping around the streets and scurrying off to work in the factories as the city remains asleep.  ‘AKT II’ the city of Berlin awakens. A depth of sound is alluded to as more people with frantic agendas shuffle into the city’s centre. Imagery of a man playing a musical instrument, tram tracks clicking, bicycle wheels turning and horses trotting - the symphony of Berlin becomes alive. We imagine the sounds that we cannot hear. Imagery of a city in busy motion creates music that is noisy and loud, contrasting to imagery of a city with less action and people that sounds soft and peaceful. The difference in volume created by a mass of people is also symbolic (one suggests) for the difference in class and the cities class structure. As the majority of people who make up the working/lower class rush off to work catching trams and trains and shoving on pavements, the volume is full and energy is intense; one feels stressed and in a panic. On the other side of town where the upper class walk casually and spaciously on the side walk or otherwise have chauffers pick them up in their single seated automobile, the sound is less, the space is empty, and the mood is calm. Different space in the film adds or detracts dynamics to the sound of the city. There is a reoccurring metaphor in the film that illustrates the various classes of people according to the level of dynamics. The person shot screaming down a telephone is juxtaposed to a couple of dogs barking at each other and a monkey screaming. Between the barking and the screaming, the dynamics are loud reaching a high pitched crescendo. People are satirised as animals living in a zoo than in a city. Their behaviour is animalistic and feral without control or restraint.

Not only does movement contrast within shots of the city but the actual movement of shots, i.e. still or dolly etc, change and manipulate our viewing.  In ‘AKT III’ a wide angled oblique still shot of a main street in the city contrasts to the movement of subject matter within the frame.  We become a watchful eye looking down on a city of people who scurry in the streets like ants. There is less interaction between audiences sitting still watching from a distance at the movement in the city. Unlike in the first scene where we were moving with the train into the city, here (as the camera shot is still) we are also stagnant; watching as an audience would in an auditorium gazing at the symphony performing on stage. The streets become the symphony’s stage.

During the middle of the day the city turns into a busy frenzy as more people interact with each other.  Two men start an argument producing noise that increases in volume as more people enter the shot to watch the fight.  From this example it seems the type of imagery also affects the sounds mood. We know that as a crowd of people pile into the streets, the volume increases. And when one man walks lonely on the sidewalk the volume decreases. But what does this say about the mood? What does the mood sound like? We might imagine trumpets, drums, symbols and percussion to accompany the movement of trams and people trotting down the streets with tasks at hand, whereas a lonely beggar pleading for money might sound like a solemn solo bass clarinet.  Each scene creates a sound that colours the mood.

The problem with silent films is they leave far too much room for things to say! From what I experienced, the props in this film made the cities symphony of Berlin come to life. Without props, the imagery would remain black and white, the sound would be empty, and the mood would be emotionless.  We should appreciate the use of props in silent films that make audiences imagine. Definitely not a film for those who are used to being spoon fed!

'East of Borneo' Dir.George Melford

If I asked you the question: What is George Melford’s film telling us? What would be your response? Perhaps something like, “Uuhhh… not sure?” Me too! “East of Borneo” was definitely a match made in heaven for the fan of cinematic modernism. In my opinion though, it seemed to venture a little further than East of Borneo – Try the middle of nowhere! From the minute the short black and white film began to the second it (eventually) ended, I could not help but think –  “thank god for 3D animation, special effects and that sparkling ‘movie magic’ that we take for granted  today!  

The film seemed reliant on the use of repetition as it replayed (I suppose) ‘turning point’ scenes that alluded to some plot or potential meaning, such as the women de-trenching, her being fast asleep in her tent, or walking out onto a balcony several times. The repetitive scenes in the film go hand in hand with the reoccurring motif of time. I felt the film played recklessly with the theme of time and the manipulation of time. I couldn’t understand the setting of the film, or when events had or were taking place - whether we were watching the film back to front? Was this technique supposed to confuse audiences or keep them on their toes? Was it to enlighten or explain the heroine’s own disorientation of identity? Replaying these scenes became unsettling. They raised concern about the nature of the woman’s actions, her (possible) regret, indecision and her own wonder on this exotic isle. The non-dialogic soundtrack playing in a monotonous tone in the background deafened any kind of hint towards the films narrative melodrama. Sounding like a bad remix of circus and reggae beats, the music playfully kept us (the audience) distracted from the theme of time and reoccurring motifs of fear, separation, seduction and abandonment. That or perhaps the music was generally played to keep us awake! The music I would argue was probably the only constant prop used in the film though not necessarily the most revealing. The music acted almost like a kind of censorship of the films content and narrative.  That amidst this tropical sanctuary the air reeked of dystopia; the close-up shots of the bewildered women’s face as she swaggers hopelessly and even regretfully onto the balcony, swaying aimlessly with despair, the violent shots of the white man being attacked by the natives on the shore, and the volcanic eruption in the distance. In this scenario, music was used as the founding prop to disguise the melodrama happening on screen. Music did not feed our emotions but manipulated them. Imagine the film without the prop of music? Do you think the music gave the film colour?

The film’s ‘big brother-like’ watchful eye intensified audience’s ever-growing suspicion and consciousness towards the woman’s actions and her whereabouts. In the first scene, the technique of a hand-held camera creeps towards the woman sleeping in a peaceful slumber, which stumbles on the issue of whether or not we’re meant to be interpreting this film as a dream? It certainly has dream-like qualities like the abrupt cutting between scenes, fading in and out without scenes finishing or beginning from the beginning, flashbacks of the past (or perhaps visions of the future), the ‘mirage-like’ location and random prop imagery that created dynamics altering (if any) the narrative sequence and mood. Repetitive Imagery of the woman’s drinking glass or the confronting close-up shot of a single candle flickering is symbolic of the woman’s (and even audiences) conscience of time; the length of time between the past and the present and how long in which the candle might take to eventually burn out -the hope and light being no more. The candle, like other surrealist props, distracts us (the audience) and the woman from reality. Sounds like the way our dreams work though - right? Random events and scenes that we imagine distracting us from reality? Entering a world that is completely our own…

My experience of watching this film was loneliness and vulnerability. Though I might ask, was I alone in my disinterest and hostile perception? I felt vulnerable as I wrestled with why couldn’t I understand it? Were we even supposed to understand it? I kept wondering if everyone was thinking what I was. The film was silent so there was a lot of room for one’s mind to wander! My opinion of this film may seem a little harsh, and perhaps quite raw, though if you strip the film down to its bare essentials, you’re looking at something that probably could have done with a little more help from the prop department.