Occasionally, I come across a short film that looks interesting. Part of the appeal is that they’re only a few minutes long. I don’t have to commit to several hours on what might be a stinker. I can also probably get a review out of it. Most of the shorts I come across tend to be like Silent. It looks like it was meant to accompany a feature-length film and not stand on its own. Yet, here it is, available streaming through Netflix.
It’s about two street performers, presumably father and daughter, showcasing the history of music in film. It starts with the two of them on a street corner when it starts to rain. They take refuge in a movie theater, where the man is sucked into the silver screen while the girl plays music to accompany various films. It runs from horror to action. The only specific movie I could make out was Safety Last!, with the man hanging from the face of a clock tower.
There’s no voice work. There’s only the music. It would seem to honor the soundtracks, if only briefly. It’s not great, but it’s not terrible. It’s very firmly in ’meh’ territory. If you have Netflix, it might be worth a watch. It’s exactly the kind of thing you could take a look at while waiting for someone else to join you or if you’re looking for something else to watch.
IMDb page
"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."
-- Douglas Adams
Showing posts with label short film. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short film. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 17, 2019
Wednesday, September 26, 2018
Madame Tutli-Putli (2007)
There’s a certain amount of symbolism that most people can handle. Sometimes, you get it right away. Other times, it may take a week or two. Then, there are some things that, even when explained, don’t really make sense. Madame Tutli-Putli tends towards that last group.
The movie starts with a woman waiting to board a train. She has a lot of luggage, which the train is apparently willing to take. She’s stuck with an oddball group of people, including an offensive man who seems interested in her. The lady tries to ignore the others, hoping ot be left alone. While they’re asleep, someone comes into the compartment and takes the internal organs of one of her fellow travelers. She escapes from the room, but has difficulty running away.
The running time is only 17 minutes and was included on a DVD of 2007 Oscar-nominated short films. I’m still not entirely certain what to make of it. I did try to look up explanations of what it means and there are a few that at least make sense.
It’s made a little more confusing by the fact that it starts out somewhat normal. It looks like it could be on any train anywhere. There’s no dialogue to give any hint of what’s going on. We never learn why Madame Tutli-Putli has all that luggage. Is she moving? Is it to symbolize emotional baggage? Maybe she’s smuggling luggage. I’ll never know.
From a technical standpoint, it’s a great short. The stop motion seems flawless. My one complaint is the eyes, which were actually filmed and superimposed on the figures. It looks kind of creepy. Imagine having a doll with realistic eyes. It does give a high level of expressiveness, but I think it would freak out most people.
This short is not going to be for most people. I think if you were confused by the ending of 2001: A Space Odyssey, you’re probably going to be confused by this one. It’s not for anyone who likes a simple, straightforward plot. I don’t know if it was meant to be obscure, but it does come off that way.
The movie starts with a woman waiting to board a train. She has a lot of luggage, which the train is apparently willing to take. She’s stuck with an oddball group of people, including an offensive man who seems interested in her. The lady tries to ignore the others, hoping ot be left alone. While they’re asleep, someone comes into the compartment and takes the internal organs of one of her fellow travelers. She escapes from the room, but has difficulty running away.
The running time is only 17 minutes and was included on a DVD of 2007 Oscar-nominated short films. I’m still not entirely certain what to make of it. I did try to look up explanations of what it means and there are a few that at least make sense.
It’s made a little more confusing by the fact that it starts out somewhat normal. It looks like it could be on any train anywhere. There’s no dialogue to give any hint of what’s going on. We never learn why Madame Tutli-Putli has all that luggage. Is she moving? Is it to symbolize emotional baggage? Maybe she’s smuggling luggage. I’ll never know.
From a technical standpoint, it’s a great short. The stop motion seems flawless. My one complaint is the eyes, which were actually filmed and superimposed on the figures. It looks kind of creepy. Imagine having a doll with realistic eyes. It does give a high level of expressiveness, but I think it would freak out most people.
This short is not going to be for most people. I think if you were confused by the ending of 2001: A Space Odyssey, you’re probably going to be confused by this one. It’s not for anyone who likes a simple, straightforward plot. I don’t know if it was meant to be obscure, but it does come off that way.
Labels:
Chris Lavis
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Laurie Maher
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Maciek Szczerbowski
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short film
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stop motion
Saturday, September 22, 2018
Même les pigeons vont au paradis/Even Pigeons Go to Heaven (2007)
I’m always looking for stuff to stream on Netflix. Sometimes, watching something interesting means renting the DVD. When I saw The 2007 Academy Award Nominated Short Films, I decided to give it a shot. I hadn’t heard of any of the films, but it meant getting several of them. And the were all contenders for the Academy Award in 2007. How could I go wrong?
The first film I watched was this one, Even Pigeons Go to Heaven. (Or Même les pigeons vont au paradis, if you prefer.) The short is about an old man, Mr. Moulin, who is about to have a very serious accident. It starts with a priest, called simply Le curé, racing to get to Mr. Moulin in time.
He does, saving the man before he hits the ground. The priest takes the opportunity to offer Mr. Moulin the XV-750. It’s a spherical object that takes the occupant to heaven. Given Moulin’s list of sins, his life savings would be a small price to pay.
The animation is CGI, but has the look of wooden puppets. The action is pretty quick, but works. I don’t think this would have worked as a feature-length film. The lack of extraneous details makes for a fairly efficient story. You get the message without a lot of exposition. You’re given just enough detail about the characters to know what’s going on.
On the one hand, it does look like an indictment of organized religion. The priest is trying to take Moulin’s money for the promise of eternal life. The priest has a long list of Moulin’s minor sins. And Moulin can’t take it with him. (Then again, neither can the priest.) It becomes obvious that the priest is just after the money.
On the other hand, it’s also an interesting story. It’s maybe not a great bedtime story for children, but I think most adults can enjoy it. There’s a clear protagonist and antagonist. It’s also possible to read a few things into it. I could see this being shown in a class to start discussion. If you have the ability to see this movie, either through Netflix, the library or some other means, I’d suggest doing so. It’s only nine minutes and very entertaining.
The first film I watched was this one, Even Pigeons Go to Heaven. (Or Même les pigeons vont au paradis, if you prefer.) The short is about an old man, Mr. Moulin, who is about to have a very serious accident. It starts with a priest, called simply Le curé, racing to get to Mr. Moulin in time.
He does, saving the man before he hits the ground. The priest takes the opportunity to offer Mr. Moulin the XV-750. It’s a spherical object that takes the occupant to heaven. Given Moulin’s list of sins, his life savings would be a small price to pay.
The animation is CGI, but has the look of wooden puppets. The action is pretty quick, but works. I don’t think this would have worked as a feature-length film. The lack of extraneous details makes for a fairly efficient story. You get the message without a lot of exposition. You’re given just enough detail about the characters to know what’s going on.
On the one hand, it does look like an indictment of organized religion. The priest is trying to take Moulin’s money for the promise of eternal life. The priest has a long list of Moulin’s minor sins. And Moulin can’t take it with him. (Then again, neither can the priest.) It becomes obvious that the priest is just after the money.
On the other hand, it’s also an interesting story. It’s maybe not a great bedtime story for children, but I think most adults can enjoy it. There’s a clear protagonist and antagonist. It’s also possible to read a few things into it. I could see this being shown in a class to start discussion. If you have the ability to see this movie, either through Netflix, the library or some other means, I’d suggest doing so. It’s only nine minutes and very entertaining.
Labels:
animated movie
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animated short
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Bernard Jung
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Clémence Cournac
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Frédéric Saurel
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Samuel Tourneux
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short film
Sunday, July 29, 2018
Prelude to Axanar (2014)
Sometimes, I come across a movie that’s hard to recommend or not recommend. With Prelude to Axanar, it’s available on YouTube for free. It’s not a huge commitment. If you don’t like it, you’re out 21 minutes. That’s not even a lunch break. In this case, it’s more to make it known. Fan projects like these generally don’t have an advertising budget, so there’s a good chance most people would never find out about it.
It’s set up like a documentary. Several people are interviewed, including Kelvar Leonard Garth. Yes, it’s Garth of Izar, from Whom Gods Destroy. The movie details a battle that takes place about 20 years before the start of the original Star Trek. There was the Four-Year War between the Klingon Empire and the United Federation of Planets in which Anaxar was the decisive battle.
Interestingly, two actors known for playing Klingons in Star Trek play humans here. Tony Todd (Kurn) plays Admiral Marcus Ramirez, who was instrumental in turning the tide of the war in favor of the Federation. J.G. Hertzler (Martok) plays Admiral Samuel Travis. Gary Graham also reprises his role as Ambassador Soval. From both incarnations of Batlestar Gallactica is Richard Hatch as Commander Kharn.
On one hand, I find it strange that such well-known actors would take the time to work with an independent project like this. You might hear that it’s not affiliated with Paramount or CBS and think it’s just some guy with a hand-held VHS recorder filming some of his friends. This is a pretty decent production. The film quality and effects are on par with something you might actually see in Star Trek.
It’s somewhat difficult for me to say that you shouldn’t watch this. It’s available for free on YouTube and is only 21 minutes, so it’s not like you have much to lose. Those that haven’t watched Star Trek probably won’t get as much out of it. There are no regular characters from any of the TV series. In fact, I think the only one that appeared in the series at all was Garth.
The only thing I found lacking was the running time. It looked like it was the first part of a TV show. It looks just like something you’d find on the History Channel. It’s as if you caught an episode, but only went from one commercial break to the next. Prelude to Axanar ends with the building of the Enterprise.
I think that may have been the intent. It looks like there’s another production, called simply Axanar. From what I’ve read, Paramount, which owns the Star Trek movie rights, has put a lot of restrictions on independent productions. One is that films can’t be that long. (They also aren’t allowed to make money.) It looks like this faux documentary has to be released in segments. IMDb doesn’t list many details on Axanar; it does look like several of the actors will be returning, though. Either way, I’m looking forward to the next installment.
Labels:
Alec Peters
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Christian Gossett
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Gary Graham
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J.G. Hertzler
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Kate Vernon
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mockumentary
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Orion Acaba
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Richard Hatch
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short film
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Steven Jepson
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Tony Todd
Saturday, June 09, 2018
Employees Leaving the Lumière Factory/La sortie de l'usine Lumière à Lyon (1895)
I’ve often wondered if inventors understand things that they set in motion. Gutenberg didn’t invent the book. He didn’t even invent the printing press. He did make a moveable type that made it cheaper to print books. Thanks to him, I grew up with bibles in every hotel room. I sometimes wonder what he would think of things like newspapers, romance novels or even the Internet. Paper isn’t even required any more.
The same could be said of movies. I’ve been looking at IMDb’s lower-numbered titles. These aren’t necessarily the earliest, mind you. I did get curious to see what had gotten the #1 spot, or rather TT0000001. That belongs to Carmencita. #10 belongs to La sortie de l'usine Lumière à Lyon, or Employees Leaving the Lumière Factory. Both films are short and appear to be simply a recording of everyday events.
Carmencita is a woman dancing. Employees Leaving the Lumière Factory is, as you might expect, people walking out of a factory. They’re leaving through one large gateway and a regular door. There are apparently three different versions. What’s the difference? It appears to be the presence or absence of a dog and/or a horse. (It’s easy to find the different versions on YouTube.)
It’s hard to find a list of movies from this far back. Clicking on 1895 on IMDb doesn’t even bring up this movie, let alone any others, so it’s difficult for me to judge what the industry was like back then. It is what you would call silent, even if it is accompanied by music. It’s also in black and white. There’s no dialogue of any kind. I was hoping to see if the content was the norm or the exception. Were most films of the day just shorts like this? According to Wikipedia, feature-length films started about a decade later.
I wonder if the pioneers of film technology could imagine people having a video camera in their pockets. We can record videos of our cats or of our neighbors and post it online for all to see. I remember there being a meteor entering the Earth’s atmosphere in Russia; it was well-documented because everyone had dashboard cameras in their cars. Everyone has the ability to record motion pictures now. I think there were stereoscopic still pictures back then, so I think 3-D movies would have been conceivable. I would think adult movies would also have been considered. I have to wonder, though, how the makers of this film would have reacted to modern technology.
The same could be said of movies. I’ve been looking at IMDb’s lower-numbered titles. These aren’t necessarily the earliest, mind you. I did get curious to see what had gotten the #1 spot, or rather TT0000001. That belongs to Carmencita. #10 belongs to La sortie de l'usine Lumière à Lyon, or Employees Leaving the Lumière Factory. Both films are short and appear to be simply a recording of everyday events.
Carmencita is a woman dancing. Employees Leaving the Lumière Factory is, as you might expect, people walking out of a factory. They’re leaving through one large gateway and a regular door. There are apparently three different versions. What’s the difference? It appears to be the presence or absence of a dog and/or a horse. (It’s easy to find the different versions on YouTube.)
It’s hard to find a list of movies from this far back. Clicking on 1895 on IMDb doesn’t even bring up this movie, let alone any others, so it’s difficult for me to judge what the industry was like back then. It is what you would call silent, even if it is accompanied by music. It’s also in black and white. There’s no dialogue of any kind. I was hoping to see if the content was the norm or the exception. Were most films of the day just shorts like this? According to Wikipedia, feature-length films started about a decade later.
I wonder if the pioneers of film technology could imagine people having a video camera in their pockets. We can record videos of our cats or of our neighbors and post it online for all to see. I remember there being a meteor entering the Earth’s atmosphere in Russia; it was well-documented because everyone had dashboard cameras in their cars. Everyone has the ability to record motion pictures now. I think there were stereoscopic still pictures back then, so I think 3-D movies would have been conceivable. I would think adult movies would also have been considered. I have to wonder, though, how the makers of this film would have reacted to modern technology.
Labels:
bicycle
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Black & White
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documentary
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dog
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factory
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horse carriage
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Louis Lumière
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short film
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silent film
Sunday, June 03, 2018
The Black Ships (1970)
It’s somewhat frustrating to try to review a title and be able to find almost no information on it. This is especially true of shorter films. Charles and Ray Eames made a short film about Commodore Perry’s expedition to Japan called, simply The Black Ships. It’s done with artwork at the time and explanatory narration.
The Smithsonian Institution is listed on IMDb as a production company, which I would infer to mean that they may have used the short film as part of an exhibit.. However, I can’t find anything to back that up. This is exactly the kind of short film a museum might play on loop. It’s short and informative, but not too deep. It’s apparently made for the shorter attention span of someone that‘s passing through
Finding information is made more difficult by the fact that I get information on Black Ships, directly. Black Ship is the term given to a Western vessel by the Japanese from the 16th to the 19th centuries. According to the film, the technology and appearance of the ships was new to the Japanese, who tried to copy as much of it as they could.
The short is available on DVD. I’m not sure most people would get the set just for this, though. I would think interest in this subject is going to be fairly narrow. Even a school wanting to use it for a class might find it lacking. You could probably find something more informative elsewhere. If anything, it might be assigned as additional viewing outside of class if the school library had it or it were made available online.
The Smithsonian Institution is listed on IMDb as a production company, which I would infer to mean that they may have used the short film as part of an exhibit.. However, I can’t find anything to back that up. This is exactly the kind of short film a museum might play on loop. It’s short and informative, but not too deep. It’s apparently made for the shorter attention span of someone that‘s passing through
Finding information is made more difficult by the fact that I get information on Black Ships, directly. Black Ship is the term given to a Western vessel by the Japanese from the 16th to the 19th centuries. According to the film, the technology and appearance of the ships was new to the Japanese, who tried to copy as much of it as they could.
The short is available on DVD. I’m not sure most people would get the set just for this, though. I would think interest in this subject is going to be fairly narrow. Even a school wanting to use it for a class might find it lacking. You could probably find something more informative elsewhere. If anything, it might be assigned as additional viewing outside of class if the school library had it or it were made available online.
Labels:
art
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Charles Eames
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documentary
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Ray Eames
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short film
Saturday, May 26, 2018
Toccata for Toy Trains (1957)
Most people are known for being one thing. Some people are known for being an athlete or a musician. Sometimes, people will make a transition. I’ve noticed that a lot of entertainers become politicians. (Both careers would seem to have a similar skill set.) I first became aware of Charles and Ray Eames due to their short film, Powers of Ten. As an adult, I looked it up and found out that they were also known for furniture and architecture. While I have met other people that know about Powers of Ten, I wasn‘t really aware of how many short films they‘ve made over the years.
One of those films was Toccata for Toy Trains. It opens with a narration stating that the trains shown are toy trains, rather than model trains. The primary difference is that these aren’t meant to be exact replicas. They’re meant to be played with. (Some of the trains and people seem somewhat exaggerated.) The film seems to go around a single area, showing people going about their business. Much of it is either on or from the perspective of a train.
Much of the film seems like regular camerawork, but there are a few segments that appear to be stop motion. Everything is close up. There are no wide shots of the entire thing. You don’t get anything that establishes the full scale of the layout.
Most people probably would pass this one over if they came across it on YouTube. It’s only 14 minutes, but I would imagine that adults would get bored with it early. Unless you’re a train or toy enthusiast, you’re probably not going to get much out of it. It’s the kind of thing that might be shown as an interstitial on a PBS station. At the very least, it’s short.
One of those films was Toccata for Toy Trains. It opens with a narration stating that the trains shown are toy trains, rather than model trains. The primary difference is that these aren’t meant to be exact replicas. They’re meant to be played with. (Some of the trains and people seem somewhat exaggerated.) The film seems to go around a single area, showing people going about their business. Much of it is either on or from the perspective of a train.
Much of the film seems like regular camerawork, but there are a few segments that appear to be stop motion. Everything is close up. There are no wide shots of the entire thing. You don’t get anything that establishes the full scale of the layout.
Most people probably would pass this one over if they came across it on YouTube. It’s only 14 minutes, but I would imagine that adults would get bored with it early. Unless you’re a train or toy enthusiast, you’re probably not going to get much out of it. It’s the kind of thing that might be shown as an interstitial on a PBS station. At the very least, it’s short.
Labels:
Charles Eames
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Ray Eames
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short film
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toys
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trains
Friday, May 25, 2018
Blacktop: A Story of the Washing of a School Play Yard (1952)
When you hear of an experimental film, you tend to think of subject matter. Charles and Ray Eames directed a few short films that could be considered experimental. In their case, however, it was usually to test equipment or a new type of medium. I’m ot sure if Blacktop falls under this category, but I wouldn’t be surprised. If you’ve seen more than three of their short films, you may know that they’ve done some very simple shorts. This one is probably the simplest that I’ve seen so far.
It’s nothing more than soapy water flowing over what appears to be a playground, hence the name. There are very few distinguishing features. Most of the surface is, as the name implies, black. Occasionally, there’s a patch of grass or some markings in the form of paint. (You can make out a few lines and an occasional number.)
We don’t even get to see where the water is coming from. I’d assume a pressure cleaner, but I’m not sure what the standard method was back in 1952. I’m not even sure if pressure cleaning is the correct method today. It’s jut that it seems somewhat wasteful to simply pour water over such a presumably large surface.
There is an esoteric quality to the short. I’m not really sure who this was intended for. I really only watched it because I was able to get the DVD from Netflix. I don’t recall there being any sort of commentary on the DVD that I got, although it would be interesting to find out more about these films.
It’s not the kind of thing most people would even think to rent. I could see this playing in an art museum. I could even see someone mimicking it to learn technique. It’s not the kind of film I’d recommend to a wider audience. At 11 minutes, it may seem a little long. I kept waiting for something to happen. I can’t say I was necessarily disappointed, but I never got my wish. It was all water flowing over a surface.
If you can find it as part of a collection or come across it online, it’s worth a few minutes, at least. I don’t know that you should expect to watch the whole thing.
IMDb page
It’s nothing more than soapy water flowing over what appears to be a playground, hence the name. There are very few distinguishing features. Most of the surface is, as the name implies, black. Occasionally, there’s a patch of grass or some markings in the form of paint. (You can make out a few lines and an occasional number.)
We don’t even get to see where the water is coming from. I’d assume a pressure cleaner, but I’m not sure what the standard method was back in 1952. I’m not even sure if pressure cleaning is the correct method today. It’s jut that it seems somewhat wasteful to simply pour water over such a presumably large surface.
There is an esoteric quality to the short. I’m not really sure who this was intended for. I really only watched it because I was able to get the DVD from Netflix. I don’t recall there being any sort of commentary on the DVD that I got, although it would be interesting to find out more about these films.
It’s not the kind of thing most people would even think to rent. I could see this playing in an art museum. I could even see someone mimicking it to learn technique. It’s not the kind of film I’d recommend to a wider audience. At 11 minutes, it may seem a little long. I kept waiting for something to happen. I can’t say I was necessarily disappointed, but I never got my wish. It was all water flowing over a surface.
If you can find it as part of a collection or come across it online, it’s worth a few minutes, at least. I don’t know that you should expect to watch the whole thing.
IMDb page
Labels:
Charles Eames
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Johann Sebastian Bach
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no dialogue
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playground
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Ray Eames
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short film
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water
Thursday, May 24, 2018
House: After Five Years of Living (1955)
Sometimes, when you find something new, you try to find more of the same. If you come across a song you like, you might look for other tracks by the same artist or maybe buy the album. There is a certain expectation that the other tracks will sound similar. When I first saw Powers of Ten, I didn’t realize that Charles and Ray Eames had made so many short films. Netflix and YouTube have allowed me to find many other short films by the husband-and-wife team. Not all of them where what I expected
I had imagined that this was more of a documentary. I had read that the Eameses had designed, built and lived in a house. This movie shows what that house looks like after about five years. You get the usual assortment of items, like tables and chairs. There’s even a spiral staircase. Instead of interviews, it’s a series of still images, each shown for a moment before moving on to the next one. The entire sequence runs for 11 minutes and is set to music by Elmer Bernstein.
The house itself is currently open to visitors. Students can get in free. Everyone else is charged a $10 admission. Apparently, you have to make a reservation. (Details can be found on the Web site.) It might be interesting to visit if I’m ever I the area. However, the Web site states that you can’t park on site due to the location. Also, due to the age of the house, restrooms aren’t available for public use.
If you want to watch this production, it is available on DVD as part of a collection. The Eames Web site doesn’t seem to have this video available, nor does it appear to be available on their YouTube channel. However, there does appear to be a house walkthrough. (The walkthrough seems to be more what I had in mind for this short.) I did see the video on YouTube, but the account isn’t the official Eames account. I’m not sure what their association is.
I don’t know that I would buy any of the sets. The replay value is going to be limited for me. My interest is in seeing what else Charles and Ray Eames made. I’m probably going to watch many of the films just once. I could see this being of interest to architects or art students. Even then, I don’t know how often it would be viewed.
The DVD I was able to rent from Netflix was The Films of Charles & Ray Eames, which goes on Amazon for $250. Unfortunately, I could get just Vol. 2 before Netflix removed it from their selection. I might have to check local libraries to find other copies.
I had imagined that this was more of a documentary. I had read that the Eameses had designed, built and lived in a house. This movie shows what that house looks like after about five years. You get the usual assortment of items, like tables and chairs. There’s even a spiral staircase. Instead of interviews, it’s a series of still images, each shown for a moment before moving on to the next one. The entire sequence runs for 11 minutes and is set to music by Elmer Bernstein.
The house itself is currently open to visitors. Students can get in free. Everyone else is charged a $10 admission. Apparently, you have to make a reservation. (Details can be found on the Web site.) It might be interesting to visit if I’m ever I the area. However, the Web site states that you can’t park on site due to the location. Also, due to the age of the house, restrooms aren’t available for public use.
If you want to watch this production, it is available on DVD as part of a collection. The Eames Web site doesn’t seem to have this video available, nor does it appear to be available on their YouTube channel. However, there does appear to be a house walkthrough. (The walkthrough seems to be more what I had in mind for this short.) I did see the video on YouTube, but the account isn’t the official Eames account. I’m not sure what their association is.
I don’t know that I would buy any of the sets. The replay value is going to be limited for me. My interest is in seeing what else Charles and Ray Eames made. I’m probably going to watch many of the films just once. I could see this being of interest to architects or art students. Even then, I don’t know how often it would be viewed.
The DVD I was able to rent from Netflix was The Films of Charles & Ray Eames, which goes on Amazon for $250. Unfortunately, I could get just Vol. 2 before Netflix removed it from their selection. I might have to check local libraries to find other copies.
Labels:
Charles Eames
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Elmer Bernstein
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no dialogue
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Ray Eames
,
short film
,
still shots
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
Kaleidoscope Jazz Chair (1960)
A little bit of nostalgia can go a long way. When looking up the short film Powers of Ten, I came to realize that the directors of the film had also made several other movies. Charles and Ray Eames are known for chairs. But they also made a lot of movies, including Kaleidoscope Jazz Chair. They not only wrote and directed it, but they also make an appearance.
The short film is pretty much what the name implies. There’s no dialogue, but there are plenty of chairs and a lot of imagery reminiscent of kaleidoscopes. There’s also some nice music accompanying it. It only runs for seven minutes, which makes it pretty efficient.
I had gotten this on DVD from Netflix. I was able to skip the first DVD, as both of those motion pictures were available through their YouTube channel. It took me a while to watch many of the shorts on the second disc, as I was having trouble finding a DVD player that would play the disc. When I went to see about renting another disc, I was dismayed to see that they’re no longer available.
It’s a shame. All of the shorts, including this one, are kind of fun to watch at least once. I don’t expect to get a lot of replay out of this one, so buying it probably wouldn’t be best. From what I can tell, most of the versions available on YouTube are excerpts. To watch the full video, you may have to either buy the DVD or see if your local library has it.
I think for most people, this isn’t going to be one of the videos that would compel you to buy the whole set or even the one disc. It’s the kind of thing you’d watch after having some other reason to buy it. I could see an art teacher playing this in class one day. I would definitely recommend watching this short film if you can get access to it. It’s a shame you can’t rent it from Netflix, though.
The short film is pretty much what the name implies. There’s no dialogue, but there are plenty of chairs and a lot of imagery reminiscent of kaleidoscopes. There’s also some nice music accompanying it. It only runs for seven minutes, which makes it pretty efficient.
I had gotten this on DVD from Netflix. I was able to skip the first DVD, as both of those motion pictures were available through their YouTube channel. It took me a while to watch many of the shorts on the second disc, as I was having trouble finding a DVD player that would play the disc. When I went to see about renting another disc, I was dismayed to see that they’re no longer available.
It’s a shame. All of the shorts, including this one, are kind of fun to watch at least once. I don’t expect to get a lot of replay out of this one, so buying it probably wouldn’t be best. From what I can tell, most of the versions available on YouTube are excerpts. To watch the full video, you may have to either buy the DVD or see if your local library has it.
I think for most people, this isn’t going to be one of the videos that would compel you to buy the whole set or even the one disc. It’s the kind of thing you’d watch after having some other reason to buy it. I could see an art teacher playing this in class one day. I would definitely recommend watching this short film if you can get access to it. It’s a shame you can’t rent it from Netflix, though.
Labels:
Charles Eames
,
no dialogue
,
Ray Eames
,
short film
,
stop motion
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Powers of Ten (1977)
The new Philip and Patricia Frost Museum of Science opened a few months ago. Back before it moved to its current location, it was located right at the southern end of I-95. I remember going there as a child a lot. One of the things I remember was this dark room with a film called Powers of Ten, made by Charles and Ray Eames.
The concept is simple. It starts out in Soldier Field in Chicago with a couple having a picnic. The filed of view is a square with text on either side. On the left shows the distance, vertically, in numbers. (We start with a square one meter by one meter.) On the right side is the same information, horizontally, in powers of ten. (Instead of 1 meter across, it’s shown as 100 meters.
The narrator explains that as we zoom out, the distance across the square increases by one power of ten every ten seconds, so that after one second, we’re at 10 meters, then 100 and so on. After a few minutes, we make it to 1024 meters, which makes our entire galaxy no more than a distant point of light. We then zoom back in reducing a power of ten every 2 seconds until we’re back to 1 meter across. We then work inward until the field of view is 10-16 meters across.
The entire film is a short 9 minutes, but it imparts the sense of scale quite well. We go form a normal size to a very vast scale, then down to a very small scale. The movie was made in 1977, which probably would have made for a smaller upper and lower limit, but it’s still pretty vast. The last few lines of the narration point out that the film covers 40 orders of magnitude. It’s a bit much to comprehend, even after watching the movie.
While I grew up watching the film a lot, I don’t recall many other children mentioning it. In fact, I only recall having a conversation about it once where the other kid mistook the narrator’s voice for the voice of Winnie the Pooh. (To be fair, Phil Morrison does sound like the voice from the Disney films, but I don’t think he ever actually voiced the character.) The web comic xkcd did reference it once, which I would take to mean that the film has a certain amount of prominence. However it’s not the kind of thing I’d expect to see on TV or even on Netflix. (You can rent this film as part of a DVD set, but I don’t think you can get it streaming. I have seen it on YouTube, though.)
It’s worth noting that there was an earlier version, released in 1968. I haven’t seen this one yet, although I imagine it might also be available through YouTube. I have seen both offered on one DVD through Amazon, so I know that both versions are available.
I still think of this short every so often and go to watch it on YouTube. Maybe one day, I’ll get around to purchasing it on Amazon. I wonder if it was carried over to the new science museum. If I ever get the chance to visit, I’ll have to check it out.
The concept is simple. It starts out in Soldier Field in Chicago with a couple having a picnic. The filed of view is a square with text on either side. On the left shows the distance, vertically, in numbers. (We start with a square one meter by one meter.) On the right side is the same information, horizontally, in powers of ten. (Instead of 1 meter across, it’s shown as 100 meters.
The narrator explains that as we zoom out, the distance across the square increases by one power of ten every ten seconds, so that after one second, we’re at 10 meters, then 100 and so on. After a few minutes, we make it to 1024 meters, which makes our entire galaxy no more than a distant point of light. We then zoom back in reducing a power of ten every 2 seconds until we’re back to 1 meter across. We then work inward until the field of view is 10-16 meters across.
The entire film is a short 9 minutes, but it imparts the sense of scale quite well. We go form a normal size to a very vast scale, then down to a very small scale. The movie was made in 1977, which probably would have made for a smaller upper and lower limit, but it’s still pretty vast. The last few lines of the narration point out that the film covers 40 orders of magnitude. It’s a bit much to comprehend, even after watching the movie.
While I grew up watching the film a lot, I don’t recall many other children mentioning it. In fact, I only recall having a conversation about it once where the other kid mistook the narrator’s voice for the voice of Winnie the Pooh. (To be fair, Phil Morrison does sound like the voice from the Disney films, but I don’t think he ever actually voiced the character.) The web comic xkcd did reference it once, which I would take to mean that the film has a certain amount of prominence. However it’s not the kind of thing I’d expect to see on TV or even on Netflix. (You can rent this film as part of a DVD set, but I don’t think you can get it streaming. I have seen it on YouTube, though.)
It’s worth noting that there was an earlier version, released in 1968. I haven’t seen this one yet, although I imagine it might also be available through YouTube. I have seen both offered on one DVD through Amazon, so I know that both versions are available.
I still think of this short every so often and go to watch it on YouTube. Maybe one day, I’ll get around to purchasing it on Amazon. I wonder if it was carried over to the new science museum. If I ever get the chance to visit, I’ll have to check it out.
Official site (Eames Office)
Labels:
Charles Eames
,
documentary
,
Philip Morrison
,
Ray Eames
,
short film
Sunday, August 27, 2017
Carmencita (1894)
Sometimes, curiosity gets the better of me. I’ll click on Wikipedia links until I end up looking up information on a movie, and suddenly I’m reading about useless buildings. While looking at IMDb, I got curious about the seven-digit number assigned to each title. Was there a title number 1? Apparently, there is. It’s called Carmencita.
This is one of those unusual cases where I’m not really reviewing a title. Instead, this is more to point out something of interest. This is probably a title that you’d never come across in your usual routine. IMDb has it listed as both a documentary and a short, both of which are correct. (I’m not sure what to call it other than a documentary, as it’s documenting the dance routine.)
Carmencita is only about 24 seconds long and is produced by the Edison Manufacturing Company. William K.L. Dickson was the man who made the motion picture camera for the company and subsequently produced and directed a few short films. One of these films was of a dancer named Carmen "Carmencita" Dauset Moreno, who demonstrated one of her routines.
It’s difficult to really go into any detail, since it’s such a short routine. There is some significance in that Ms. Moreno is the first person to appear in an American film. (Edison Manufacturing Company was called "America's First Movie Studio”.) It has also passed into the public domain due to its age, meaning you can find several copies on YouTube. It’s not the kind of thing that’s difficult to come by. I write this more in the hopes that someone will read this and find it at least mildly interesting.
This is one of those unusual cases where I’m not really reviewing a title. Instead, this is more to point out something of interest. This is probably a title that you’d never come across in your usual routine. IMDb has it listed as both a documentary and a short, both of which are correct. (I’m not sure what to call it other than a documentary, as it’s documenting the dance routine.)
Carmencita is only about 24 seconds long and is produced by the Edison Manufacturing Company. William K.L. Dickson was the man who made the motion picture camera for the company and subsequently produced and directed a few short films. One of these films was of a dancer named Carmen "Carmencita" Dauset Moreno, who demonstrated one of her routines.
It’s difficult to really go into any detail, since it’s such a short routine. There is some significance in that Ms. Moreno is the first person to appear in an American film. (Edison Manufacturing Company was called "America's First Movie Studio”.) It has also passed into the public domain due to its age, meaning you can find several copies on YouTube. It’s not the kind of thing that’s difficult to come by. I write this more in the hopes that someone will read this and find it at least mildly interesting.
IMDb page
Labels:
Black & White
,
Carmen Dauset Moreno
,
documentary
,
short film
,
silent film
,
vaudeville
,
William K.L. Dickson
Saturday, May 27, 2017
World of Tomorrow (2015)
I remember an episode of The Ren and Stimpy Show, The House of Next Tuesday. I don’t remember much about the episode itself, as I saw it almost 30 years ago, except that it was a play on the tendency to make something sound futuristic by calling it The Thing of Tomorrow. I’m not sure how Tomorrow became the standard. I guess it sounds like it’s coming soon. The Thing of the Future sounds like it’s postponed indefinitely. The Thing of Tomorrow sounds like you could get one right away.
I had been putting off watching The World of Tomorrow indefinitely. The premise seemed interesting, even if it was cliché. I wasn’t sure I wanted to commit much time to watching something last night. Then, I noticed that it was only 16 minutes.
The movie starts with a young girl, Emily, receiving a phone call from an older version of herself. Actually, the older Emily is a clone of a clone of the young Emily. (The clone refers to her younger self as Emily Prime.) You see, in the future, people can have a perfect clone made of themselves. Emily was impregnated with her perfect clone. When the time came, her memories were transferred to the clone and thus extend her life.
Emily the Clone transports Emily Prime into the future to show her around. It’s basically Clone Emily telling Emily Prime about their life. Clone Emily, for instance, worked on the moon managing work robots who needed to stay in the light to survive. She fell in love with a rock and was sad when she had to leave. Not everyone gets clones made of themselves. Poorer people, like their grandfather, have their memories transferred to little boxes.
While Emily Prime is full of life, as you might expect from a little girl, Clone Emily tends to be less emotional. This leads to a lot of deadpan humor. Clone Emily tells Emily Prime how time travel is sill unpredictable and dangerous right before transporting herself to the future. The movie also goes through some of the clichés of time travel, like having to worry about the position of the Earth.
While Emily Prime’s present is simple, the future tends to look kind of trippy. It didn’t vary much from what I saw on the cover. The animation wasn’t distracting, though. It was effective in helping to tell the story. You get a look at what you come to realize is the decline of humanity. You’d think that the world of tomorrow is a happy place. Not necessarily.
I wouldn’t say that the movie is depressing, but I don’t think it’s going to be for everyone. It seems to be geared towards people who are at least familiar with science-fiction plots. I don’t know that it’s exactly satire, but it does play on a few aspects of time travel. I’m sure certain aspects of the story will be lost on some people.
As a short film, I don’t expect to see it on DVD, at least not by itself. It would be interesting to get a DVD with several shorts on it. Those seem hard to find, though. Netflix doesn’t have a category for it. I have been able to find shorts there, which is where I found this one, but you have to do it by a more mainstream category like drama or animation. Perhaps one of these days, I’ll do a ten-best list or something.
I had been putting off watching The World of Tomorrow indefinitely. The premise seemed interesting, even if it was cliché. I wasn’t sure I wanted to commit much time to watching something last night. Then, I noticed that it was only 16 minutes.
The movie starts with a young girl, Emily, receiving a phone call from an older version of herself. Actually, the older Emily is a clone of a clone of the young Emily. (The clone refers to her younger self as Emily Prime.) You see, in the future, people can have a perfect clone made of themselves. Emily was impregnated with her perfect clone. When the time came, her memories were transferred to the clone and thus extend her life.
Emily the Clone transports Emily Prime into the future to show her around. It’s basically Clone Emily telling Emily Prime about their life. Clone Emily, for instance, worked on the moon managing work robots who needed to stay in the light to survive. She fell in love with a rock and was sad when she had to leave. Not everyone gets clones made of themselves. Poorer people, like their grandfather, have their memories transferred to little boxes.
While Emily Prime is full of life, as you might expect from a little girl, Clone Emily tends to be less emotional. This leads to a lot of deadpan humor. Clone Emily tells Emily Prime how time travel is sill unpredictable and dangerous right before transporting herself to the future. The movie also goes through some of the clichés of time travel, like having to worry about the position of the Earth.
While Emily Prime’s present is simple, the future tends to look kind of trippy. It didn’t vary much from what I saw on the cover. The animation wasn’t distracting, though. It was effective in helping to tell the story. You get a look at what you come to realize is the decline of humanity. You’d think that the world of tomorrow is a happy place. Not necessarily.
I wouldn’t say that the movie is depressing, but I don’t think it’s going to be for everyone. It seems to be geared towards people who are at least familiar with science-fiction plots. I don’t know that it’s exactly satire, but it does play on a few aspects of time travel. I’m sure certain aspects of the story will be lost on some people.
As a short film, I don’t expect to see it on DVD, at least not by itself. It would be interesting to get a DVD with several shorts on it. Those seem hard to find, though. Netflix doesn’t have a category for it. I have been able to find shorts there, which is where I found this one, but you have to do it by a more mainstream category like drama or animation. Perhaps one of these days, I’ll do a ten-best list or something.
Labels:
animated movie
,
animated short
,
Don Hertzfeldt
,
Julia Pott
,
movie review
,
short film
,
time travel
,
Winona Mae
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