De las muchas películas disponibles en la Mediateca, sorprende la cantidad de ellas que pueden agruparse y conformar un buen número de obras maestras de género. En lo referente al Cine de Aventuras Clásico, determinado por el star-system y los clichés convenientes dentro de ese género, tenemos Ivanhoe, El signo del Zorro, El Capitán Blood, El Ladrón de Bagdad entre otras.
Todas ellas destacan por su entretenimiento, sus emocionantes peleas y un technicolor que se sale de la pantalla. No hay que olvidar tampoco a sus antecedentes mudos Sangre y Arena y El Ladrón de Bagdad, con Rodolfo Valentino y Douglas Fairbanks en sus papeles principales respectivamente. Aquí os dejamos una interesante foto de El Capitán Blood,  película que esperemos que saquéis pronto porque ¿acaso hay alguna mejor forma de pasar la tarde que ver a Errol Flynn haciendo de terrible espadachín?

“Saturday Night Live’s” two most frequent guests will host the Oscars together.

Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin are teaming-up for jokes: dry, silly and in-between for the next Oscars, March 7. This will be Baldwin’s first time as host of the Oscars and Martin’s third.

Both Baldwin and Martin know what it’s like to be in the audience of an awards show, waiting to hear if they’ve won. Baldwin has two Emmys for “30 Rock,” plus nominations for a Tony and for an Oscar. Martin has an Emmy for writing, along with several nominations. He’s won two Grammys for comedy and another for playing the banjo on an Earl Scruggs album.

It’s unusual to have more than one person hosting the Oscars show.

But, it’s been done before.

If you go way back to the first Oscars in 1929, Douglas Fairbanks and William DeMille hosted together.

At the time, they were the president and vice president of the motion picture academy.

The last time there was more than a single host was in 1987 when Chevy Chase, Goldie Hawn and Paul Hogan worked the room together.

(pic from Reuters, text from AP)

In the silent picture era, actors–especially female ones–often lied about their age. Of course, actresses do that today: Sandra Bullock’s birth year has moved about so much from 1964 to 1969 that even she forgets her true age. But the practice was routine back in the 1910s and 1920s, when leading roles usually went to actresses in their late teens and twenties, and a thirty-something was all washed up.

For example, the famous actress Mary Astor was playing adult roles opposite John Barrymore at 17, and she was 18 when she starred with Douglas Fairbanks in his classic “Don Q: Son of Zorro.” Pola Negri, the femme fatale born in 1897, shaved her years until talkies came in and put her out of business—a lie couldn’t cover up that unappealing foreign accent. 

Mary Pickford, the screen’s first female super star, was an exception to this rule. She didn’t have to lie about having been born in 1892. She was so petite and youthful that she was able to play feisty 12-year-olds well into her thirties.

My favorite story about age is Shirley Temple’s. Her mother subtracted a year from little Shirley’s age when she began her film career in 1932 at the age of three. Supposedly, the truth was revealed to Shirley on her twelfth birthday—surprise! She was really thirteen.

MAGIA, ESPADA Y FANTASÍA (IV)

Las cosas como son: la película ha envejecido lo suyo desde aquel lejano 1987 de su estreno. Pero quienes la vieron en su momento y se encontraban en la frontera entre la infancia y la adolescencia, o incluso en ésta, la recuerdan como parte de aquel periodo, como quizá el último cuento de hadas que se tragaron sin sentirse ridículos o estúpidos. Lamentablemente, hay que echar mano de memoria y de nostalgia para que esas sensaciones negativas no se recuperen súbitamente ante un visionado del mismo film a edad ya madura. Pero dejando la puerta abierta a los recuerdos es posible que el espectador pueda reencontrarse con aquél que fue un día y que era capaz no sólo de ver cosas como ésta, sino de disfrutarlas.

Rob Reiner, director discreto (es autor de eso llamado El presidente y Miss Wade) con algunos notables puntos a su favor (Cuenta conmigo, Cuando Harry encontró a Sally, Algunos hombres buenos y, sobre todo, Misery), se encumbró a finales de los ochenta gracias a esta amable fábula de aventuras de capa y espada en un mundo mágico conectado con la realidad a través de la lectura que un abuelo (Peter Falk) hace a su nieto enfermo (Fred Savage, aquel niño imbécil de la serie Aquellos maravillosos años), de una historia contenida en uno de sus libros favoritos, con el fin de ayudarle a sobrellevar la convalecencia y apartarlo de los incipientes videojuegos. Esa historia entre leída e inventada (según el anciano percibe de reojo el interés creciente o decreciente del chaval en lo que le cuenta) que el abuelo va relatando al muchacho nos traslada el legendario reino de Florin, en el que gobierna el malvado tirano príncipe Humperdinck (Chris Sarandon) con ayuda del malévolo Vizzini (Wallace Shawn). Humperdinck, maloso que es, rapta a la bellísima Buttercup (tacita de mantequilla, interpretada por Robin Wright Penn mucho antes de ser Penn) para convertirla en su prometida, lo cual no gusta nada a la muchacha ni al campesino humilde del que estaba enamorada (Cary Elwes). Éste, con ayuda de un aventurero español, Íñigo Montoya (Mandy Patinkin) y de un gigante de manazas enormes (quien escribe siempre ha pensado las vueltas que podría dar la cabeza de cualquier mortal tras recibir un bofetón de semejante explanada llena de dedos) luchan contra los malos para rescatar a la joven y para que Íñigo logre vengar la muerte de su padre (“Hola. Mi nombre es Íñigo Montoya. Tu mataste a mi padre. Prepárate a morir.”).

Película de carácter indudablemente juvenil, destaca sobre la mayoría de los productos de su género por varias notas características que la diferencian favorablemente. En primer lugar, su estética colorista, dinámica, de hermosos paisajes, de escenografías de cartón piedra, de dirección artística al servicio de la fantasía con efectos especiales que van desde lo estimable (para 1987) a lo deliberadamente cutre, que hace que la cinta sea la traducción más acertada, incluso hasta la fecha, de los clásicos de dibujos animados de Disney al cine de carne y hueso. En segundo lugar, la música compuesta por Mark Knopfler, hoy en día un tanto anticuada por su producción demasiado ochentera, pero uno de los trabajos más recordados de su autor en solitario. En tercer lugar, la ironía: es una película que, como los buenos cuentos infantiles, consigue contar historias violentas y truculentas, sórdidos episodios de brujas y gigantes, de ogros y pérfidos y crueles príncipes, con un tono ligero, casual, en el que, en este caso, abunda el humor, tanto en la estrafalaria caracterización de algunos personajes, incluido el héroe, más bien atípico, como en la brillantez de ciertos diálogos, que pueden ofrecer a un tiempo frases lapidarias y gracietas de cierto mérito. A este respecto, conviene recordar que el guión es obra de William Goldman (autor igualmente de guiones como Harper, Dos hombres y un destino, El carnaval de las águilas, Todos los hombres del presidente, la propia Misery, Chaplin, Poder absoluto, El indomable Will Hunting o Corazones en Atlántida), y que adaptó su propia novela.

Pero sobre todo si destaca por algo esta película por encima de otras fábulas juveniles es por el amor al cine de aventuras que destila, a los tiempos de Douglas Fairbanks, Errol Flynn o Gene Kelly, a clásicos como Robín de los bosques, El zorro, El capitán Blood, El corsario negro o El pirata. Tanto la construcciòn de la historia, en particular de algunas secuencias, como las coreografías de los duelos a espada remiten directamente a aquel tiempo dorado del cine de aventuras, desconocido por supuesto para quienes en los ochenta eran (éramos) unos críos de la edad de Fred Savage. A ese gusto por el cine clásico de aventuras que rememora hay que añadir la defensa que supone del libro como concepto, como puerta abierta a la fantasía, como vehículo de ocio que tantos y tan buenos ratos puede ofrecer. Esta película, junto con otras del mismo estilo (sobre todo La historia interminable, sobre el libro de Michael Ende), ha hecho mucho por el acercamiento de buena parte de los jóvenes de los ochenta al mundo de los libros en un tiempo en que las maquinitas de botoncitos made in Japan avecinaban lo que iba a venir en décadas posteriores.

Nostalgia a raudales, humor, duelos a espada, acrobacias, sorpresas, peligros, criaturas extraordinarias, buena música, alguna que otra interpretación curiosa y/o aceptable (Billy Crystal, sobre todo, pero también Christopher Guest, Peter Cook o Carol Kane), fantasía, emoción, gente feliz que come perdices y malos que pagan sus fechorías: una vuelta a la infancia, a la ingenuidad, a la magia de los cuentos leídos a la luz de la mesita de noche por una voz cálida que nunca olvidaremos.

Charles Spencer Chaplin Jr. nació en Londres el 16 de abril de 1889. Su madre, Hanna Hill, era una actriz de teatro que vio truncada su carrera en cabarets de segunda categoría debido a la esquizofrenia que padecía y su padre era un cantante que acabó enganchado a la bebida, que abandonaría a su familia en 1891 y que moriría de cirrosis hepática cuando Chaplin tenía 12 años.

Tanto Chaplin como su hermano Sidney (dos años mayor que él) quedan al cuidado de su madre, pero sus trastornos psicológicos la obligan a dejar a sus hijos largas temporadas en distintos orfanatos puesto que ya no es capaz de continuar ejerciendo su profesión artística.

La primera vez que Chaplin pisó un escenario fue a los 5 años sustituyendo a su madre que se había quedado afónica. En 1898, Charlie pasa a formar parte de la compañía de niños cómicos y bailarines “Ocho chavales de Lancashire” en la que realiza una gira de dos años. Cuando regresa a Londres su hermano Sidney trabaja como mozo de cabina en un barco y Charlie debe hacerse cargo de su inestable madre ganándose la vida como botones, ayudante de barbero o de aprendiz de impresor. Cuando en 1903 el estado mental de Hanna emperora de forma preocupante y hay que internarla, Sidney regresa y, junto con su hermano, deciden que deben volver a probar suerte en el mundo de la interpretación. Mientras Charlie opta por el teatro, su hermano mayor lo hace por el music hall y después en la compañía cómica de Fred Karno al que convence para que también contrate a su hermano menor.

En 1911 la citada compañía emprende una gira por América tras la cual Chaplin regresará a Londres para instalar a su madre en un confortable sanatorio y, nuevamente, emprenderá viaje hacia los Estados Unidos en 1913 con la convicción que allí está su futuro.

Algunos colaboradores del productor Mack Sennett  asisten a uno de los espectáculos de Karno y se fijan en el joven actor inglés de apellido Chaplin. Poco tiempo después Sennett le ofrecerá un contrato de un año para protagonizar (y, más tarde, también dirigir) una treintena de películas para la Keystone que tuvieron un éxito inmediato. En la primera de ellas, “Charlot periodista”, todavía no había adoptado el personaje del vagabundo que le hizo mundialmente famoso y que utilizaría partir de la segunda “Carreteras sofocantes” (1914).

En 1915 firmó un contrato con la Essanay donde no sólo protagonizó, sino que también dirigió algunos de sus mejores cortometrajes y en los que comenzó a imprimir cierta crítica social que ya nunca abandonaría. Con un sueldo que rondaba los 10.000 dólares semanales, Chaplin rodó películas como “Charlot campeón de boxeo”, “Charlot perfecta dama”, “Charlot trasnochador”, “Charlot empapelador” o “Charlot vagabundo”. Será durante esta época cuando conocerá a la que sería su musa la actriz Edna Purviance con la que también mantendría una relación amorosa.

Las tensas relaciones entre Chaplin y la Essanay se materializan en 1916 cuando el actor-director se encuentra sin productora y debe ser su hermano Sidney el que negocie un contrato con la Mutual (barajando unas cantidades desorbitantes para la época) para la que dirigirá cintas como “Charlot encargado de bazar”, “Charlot músico ambulante”, “Charlot en la calle de la paz”, “Charlot prestamista”, “Charlot a la una de la madrugada” o “Charlot emigrante”. En este período termina su relación personal (que no laboral) con Edna Purviance y, además, es acusado de desertor hasta que un comunicado, una sustanciosa donación al ejército británico y un informe en el que consta que es rechazado por su delgadez, acaba con la polémica. 

Chaplin vuelve a cambiar de compañía en 1918 y firma un contrato con la First National donde realizaría, por ejemplo, “Vida de perro”, “Armas al hombro”, “El bono” o ”Al sol”. A nivel personal, Chaplin mantiene una relación pasajera con la actriz de 17 años Mildred Harris con la que tiene que casarse para evitar un escándalo ya que es menor de edad. En 1919 tras perder un hijo a los pocos días de nacer, inicia el rodaje de una de sus obras maestras “El chico” (1921), película que montará clandestinamente por miedo a que los abogados de Mildred Harris (con la que había iniciado los trámites de divorcio) intenten robarle los negativos. Ese mismo año, Chaplin firmará las actas de constitución de la United Artists junto a Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, David W. Griffith y Thomas Ince.

En 1921 Chaplin decide viajar a Inglaterra para presentar “El chico” y huir del agotador trabajo y de su convulsa vida personal. Allí recogerá a su madre y se la llevará con él a los EEUU. A su regreso, rodará sus tres últimos films con la First National: “Día de paga”, “El peregrino” y “Los ociosos”.

A partir de 1922, Chaplin ya se halla bajo la liberadora tutela de la United Artists e intenta renovar su carrera como actor y director rodando “Una mujer en París” (1923) que acabará siendo un rotundo fracaso. Además, significará el fin de la colaboración artística con Edna Purviance que empezaba a tener problemas con la bebida, pero que conservará un salario vitalicio de los estudios Chaplin hasta su muerte en 1958. 

Por esta época, el cómico inicia una breve y tormentosa relación con la actriz Pola Negri que tendrá en jaque a toda la opinión pública. Paralelamente, Chaplin necesita recuperarse del bache que le supuso “Una mujer en París” e inicia el rodaje de la película “La quimera del oro” (estrenada en 1925 con un gran éxito)en la que el papel protagonista femenino recaerá en la actriz de 16 años Lita Grey. La joven se quedará embarazada durante el citado rodaje (será sustituida por Georgia Hale) y Chaplin deberá casarse con ella para evitar polémicas. “El circo” (estrenada en 1928) será su próxima producción que no estuvo exenta de todo tipo de problemas:  un incendio, un tormenta que destruye el decorado, tomas deterioradas en el laboratorio y el traumático divorcio de Lita Grey (que ya había tenido dos hijos varones de Chaplin) que le acusó ante el tribunal de crueldad mental y perversión sexual. Esta controvertida declaración pone en pie de guerra a los sectores más puritanos que boicotean algunas de las películas del cómico. Tanto “La quimera del oro” como “El circo” resultaron ser las dos películas mudas más taquilleras e incluso esta última obtuvo un Oscar especial.

Tras la muerte de su madre y el triunfo de las películas sonoras, Chaplin acomete el rodaje de otra de sus obras maestras “Luces de la ciudad” que, a pesar de ser muda, se estrena con éxito en 1931. Nuevamente viaja a Gran Bretaña para presentar su última producción y a su regreso se plantea seriamente cómo acometer su carrera ante un público que se ha rendido al cine sonoro.  Paralelamente, el cineasta ha iniciado un relación con la actriz Paulette Godard y se ha involucrado en la desastrosa situación económica de su país de adopción dando a conocer sus opiniones de vertiente izquierdista. Este hecho provocará que la opinión pública sospeche que Chaplin es comunista.

Aunque Chaplin siempre se mostró reticente a abandonar el cine mudo, acabó cediendo pero, eso sí, su inolvidable Charlot nunca pronunció una sola palabra en ninguna película. De este período son otras obras maestras como “Tiempos modernos” (1936) o “El gran dictador” (estrenada en 1940 y prohibida en España hasta 1976). Esta última fue acogida con suspicacia y reticencia lo que agravó las tensas relaciones entre Chaplin y los norteamericanos. 

Cuando se inicia la conocida como “caza de brujas”, que amparándose en la salvaguarda de la seguridad nacional, persiguió encarnizadamente a los comunistas americanos, Chaplin sería una de las tantas víctimas de esta “cacería” sin sentido. Además, en 1941, el cineasta volvió a tener problemas personales por mantener una breve relación amorosa con la joven de 17 años Joan Barry. Tras abandonarla al percatarse de que sufría algún trastorno psicológico, Barry se presentó en casa de Chaplin con una escopeta siendo necesaria la intervención de la policía. En 1943 Joan Barry le acusa de haberla dejado embarazada y le lleva a juicio para que reconozca su paternidad. Aunque los test sanguíneos demuestran que no es el padre, la brutal presión de la prensa influye en el jurado federal que le condena a pasar una pensión a la hija de Barry. Por estas fechas, Chaplin conoce a Oona O’Neill y se casa con ella en 1943.  Será Oona la que acompañará al actor hasta el fin de sus días y le dara seis hijos, entre ellos la actriz Geraldine Chaplin.

En 1947 estrena en Nueva York  la película “Monsieur Verdoux” (dirigida y protagonizada por él) que es recibida con abucheos y que se utilizará como otra excusa para criminalizar al cómico. Paralelamente el Comité de Actividades Antiamericanas llevó a cabo una campaña anti-Chaplin tan feroz que la opinión publica llegó a tacharle de desleal por no haber querido nunca solicitar la nacionalidad americana e, incluso, algún congresista defendió su expulsión del país y el boicot a sus películas con el objetivo de proteger a la juventud de tan letal influencia. 

Tras negarse a prestar declaración ante el Comité antes citado, Chaplin escribe a Pablo Picasso para que le ayude a convocar una manifestación de apoyo al compositor alemán Hanns Eisler, refugiado de la Alemania nazi, al que se le había dictado una orden de expulsión de los EEUU. Es entonces cuando la Asociación de Antiguos Combatientes Católicos acusa al cineasta de traidor por solicitar la ayuda de un comunista como Picasso y por involucrase en un asunto nacional.

Ante la tensa situación en la que se encuentra, Chaplin decide rodar “Candilejas” (estrenada en 1952 y donde también aparece Buster Keaton) en Inglaterra y abandona los EEUU decidiendo, finalmente, no volver. Su esposa Oona sí regresa para realizar algunos trámites y allí tiene noticia de los interrogatorios a los que el FBI está sometiendo a los colaboradores del cineasta y se entera de que los estudios de Chaplin y sus acciones de la United Artist se han puesto a la venta. Es en este momento, 1953, cuando los Chaplin fijan su residencia en Suiza.

En 1957 se estrena “Un rey en Nueva York” que recibe una tibia acogida en Europa y que no se estrenará en EEUU hasta dos décadas después. En 1959 rescata tres cortometrajes de la etapa en la First National para reunirlos en la película “The Charlie Chaplin Revue” para la que compone la BSO.

Los años posteriores los dedica a la redacción de su autobiografía y en 1966 estrena la que sería su última película “La condesa de Hong Kong”, con Marlon Brando y Sofía Loren como protagonistas, que tampoco suscita el interés del público.

En el inicio de los años 70, Chaplin compone las BSO para las reediciones de “El chico” y “Una mujer en París” y en 1971 se le concede el permiso para regresar a los EEUU con motivo de la concesión de un Oscar Honorífico que no sólo reconoció su incalculable aportación a la historia del cine, sino que intentó resarcirlo de todas las injusticias sufridas. Fue la única vez en la historia en la que este premio especial se entregaba tras el de Mejor Película. Cuatro años después, la reina Isabel II le concedió el título de Sir en reconocimiento a todos sus méritos.

Los últimos años de su vida los pasó alejado de todo y de todos en su mansión suiza en donde murió, mientras dormía, el 25 de diciembre de 1977. Tenía 88 años.

Su imagen de pícaro y tierno vagabundo ataviado con un bombín, un bastón y unos enormes y raídos pantalones (dicen que prestados por Fatty Arbuckle) conquistó el corazón de millones de espectadores y ha pasado a la historia no sólo como uno de los grandes del cine mudo, sino del cine de todos los tiempos.

Briony 

WHY A MUSEUM FOR AN OLD SILENT FILM STAR, ANYWAY?

Donation Drives for the Douglas Fairbanks Museum’s relocation effort have been considerably more difficult since the American economy went into a recession. Like all small nonprofits; libraries, museums and performing arts/cultural organizations, we’re faced with dramatic drops in funding sources and donations. Right now we need your help more than ever in order to meet our goal of securing a suitable new building to house and exhibit our collections.

In these turbulent economic times, we sometimes hear people say: “but why does an old silent movie star need a museum? And why should taxpayers foot the bill?”

We’ll tackle the second part of the question first: throughout the entire 11-year history of the Douglas Fairbanks Museum, we have never asked for nor accepted any public funding.

Our operating costs have always been funded by donations from private individuals, businesses and foundation grants, in addition to our own funds raised though film screenings, events, workshops, publications, admission fees, licensing/loan fees and sales from our gift shop. We strongly believe that small museums like ours should not be a drain on our taxpayers or our government, and that if silent film lovers and the local community believe that we provide a valuable service, they will contribute financially.

Now – for the most important part of that question: why should people care about an old silent movie star, anyway?

Let us pause for a moment to consider a world without “Doug”.

If it weren’t for Douglas Fairbanks, the history of cinema may have been written very differently indeed.

• We have Mr. Fairbanks to thank for giving independent film producers power over the production and distribution of their own films with the creation of United Artists in 1919.
• We can give our thanks to him for ensuring long-term health care and housing for elderly members of the industry with the Motion Picture Relief Fund and Hospital in 1921.
• Thanks to Fairbanks’ efforts to found the nation’s first film school at USC in 1929, young and aspiring filmmakers can learn their craft in universities around the world today.
• We can also thank him for helping to found the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, who have brought us the Oscars every year since 1927.
• And above all, we have to thank him for giving us all those wonderful films which continue to inspire and influence us.

Now, let us stop for a moment to consider a world without the Douglas Fairbanks Museum (perish the thought!):

Had it not been for the Douglas Fairbanks Museum over these past 11 years, Doug’s fans, cinema scholars, and silent film enthusiasts would have no other place on earth to learn about his immense contribution to movie history.

Anyone looking for biographical information, research materials, photographs, copies of his films, or answers to questions about Mr. Fairbanks have come here to find what they were looking for. Our educational programs, workshops, lectures, film screenings, free web resources and virtual online galleries, news blog, books and other publications all provide a valuable service to the community of movie lovers everywhere.

We hope to continue providing these services in the future, but we can’t do it without your financial support.

With the economy as it is, small museums like ours rely mostly on donations from people like you to survive. Nonprofits, educational institutions, libraries and museums across America are seeing our annual donations plummet to record lows, and many of us are being forced to cut back on programs and staff or face permanent closure.

The Douglas Fairbanks Museum has been particularly hard hit by the financial crisis, as we are still trying to recover from the flood damage which forced us to close our doors last year. Over the past three quarters, the amount of financial contributions from individuals and businesses who have been our strongest supporters has dropped significantly due to the unstable economy, but we are hoping to get a much-needed boost from our fall donation drive this year.

Please don’t forget that our dedicated staff and volunteers make it all possible. Without their efforts, we would not have been able to make it through the storm (literally!), nor would we be able to continue making our collections available to the public while our doors remain temporarily closed.

Without YOU, a new library and exhibit space may not be in our future. We really do need your help now as we continue to raise funding for a new location. Please show your support for silent film, as well as your appreciation for Douglas Fairbanks and the many dedicated individuals who keep his museum going with a financial contribution today!

Your financial support helps us achieve our mission, enables us to acquire new artifacts, and to provide the very best care and conservation for our existing collections. As these items are now approaching or over 100 years of age, they need increasing amounts of attention and preservation.

You can make a donation quickly, easily, and safely through PayPal using a credit card, debit card or bank account below.Every donation, small or large – even just dropping $5.00 in our Virtual Donation Box - brings us one step closer to accomplishing our mission. That goal is establishing a permanent place in history for Douglas Fairbanks, Sr., to ensure that film historians and fans have his work, his extraordinary life and legacy to study and enjoy for many generations to come.

Make a financial gift through safe, secure Pay Pal International below:

Thank You.

(*) – Donations may not be tax-deductible.

As a fan of silent films, I was excited to hear that an ultra-rare silent movie is going to be shown in Rochester, NY this fall – the 1912 version of Robin Hood. The earliest surviving Robin Hood film, although there were several before the famous ones.

And speaking of famous Robin Hood films, I see they are also showing the 1922 Douglas Fairbanks in Robin Hood with a newly-reconstructed score played by a live orchestra.

Silent films play better on the big screen — and with a live orchestra. This should be quite a treat.

Article on the Films and Conference

I see it’s connected to a Robin Hood conference with much discussion about the outlaw, and it also features live musical performances. And a display with rare books, stills and even Douglas Fairbanks Sr.’s boots.

Conference Info

Sounds like a fun time for any fans of films or Robin Hood in musicals, books, TV, comics and even romance novels and fan fiction, it appears.

From our "Legend of Zorro" exhibit

MUSEUM FACES FUNDING OBSTACLES TO RELOCATION

As our fall Donation Drive kicks off October 5th, we wanted to update you on the current challenges we face and what the museum’s goals are for the coming year.

Since our building suffered extensive flood damage last year, we were forced to close our doors and move the collections to safe climate-controlled storage offsite. After obtaining repair estimates, the building’s owner (whom we had been leasing the space from) decided to sell the property, leaving the museum “high and dry” without a home.

The museum remains closed and our staff is working out of temporary office space. However, we have made our best efforts to keep the majority of our collections online for viewing and research at no cost to the public, and continue to carry on the business day-to-day despite having very limited staff and resources.

Our search for a new building site has led us to several suitable properties around the Austin/Central Texas area, but moving the collections and preparing any building to house a museum/gallery/theatre will be extremely costly. At the time when we need extra funding the most, we have watched donation levels plummet over the past year as the American economy went into a deep recession.

All nonprofits, museums, libraries and cultural institutions have faced a struggle for survival in 2008/09 as sources of funding we normally rely on have either reduced the amount of grants/assistance given in previous years, while other sources have run out of funding altogether. The sad truth is that many nonprofits are now faced with permanent closure if they cannot be saved through donations by private individuals, businesses and foundations.

Right now, the board of the Fairbanks Museum is extremely concerned that we too may be shuttered permanently if we are unable to raise the necessary funds for operational costs and moving expenses over the next year. We have already scaled back our staff from full-time to part-time employees and are trying to fill out the rest of the necessary workload with volunteers. We’ve currently put a freeze on new acquisitions while putting every penny raised above basic expenses towards the preservation and storage of our current collections.

Our #1 goal for 2010 is to find a new home for the museum that will be affordable and suitable, and that is the focus of this year’s Fall Donation Drive.

This is the time of year when we ask Fairbanks fans and silent film enthusiasts around the world to assist us in keeping Doug’s legacy alive. Please take a moment out of your day to make a financial contribution here.

Charles Chaplin at Lone Star Studios in 1917. Lone Star was basically Chaplin’s own studio, formed by Mutual Film Corp for him when the star system began to really play a major role in early cinema production (and budget). Chaplin was the writer, director, and producer for most of his films with Mutual, besides of course being the star. This unheralded creative control was Mutual’s last bid to keep ahold of him. People wanted Chaplin, Mutual wanted people’s money, and didn’t want Chaplin to figure out that with all his money and star power he could just form his own production companies. Of course, pretty quickly he did, founding UA with Fairbanks and Pickford. I don’t need to tell you that, most likely.

Nat “King” Cole – Smile

Anyway, I have a less morally repugnant job than usual, providing content for a blurb on Chaplin and the feature Modern Times to appear in the playbill at a screening of early movies that were important to film history. So that’s what I’m doing with my day, although I think I scheduled a post a bit ago to appear later…time will tell.

Modern Times is the one where he goofs with the clock (wow, oversimplest thing I will hopefully say all day). You have likely seen clips from it.

* We thought this review was too clever and wanted to share it with all of you!

THE SUNDAY INTERTITLE

Arrr! Damn ye, yellow-bellied sapsuckers, I’m a better man than all of ye milksops put together.

Tyrone Power em O Cisne Negro (The Black Swan, Henry King, 1942)

Burt Lancaster em O Pirata Sangrento (The Crimson Pirate, Robert Siodmak, 1952)

Matthew Modine & Geena Davis em A Ilha da Garganta Cortada (Cutthroat Island, Renny Harlin, 1995)

Sean Flynn em O Filho do Capitão Blood (Il figlio del capitano Blood, Tulio Demicheli, 1962)

Jason Isaacs & Richard Briers em Peter Pan (P.J. Hogan, 2003)

Steve Reeves em O Rei dos Piratas (Morgan il Pirata, André De Toth/Primo Zeglio, 1960)

John Matuszak em Goonies (Richard Donner, 1985)

Errol Flynn & Basil Rathbone em Capitão Blood (Captain Blood, Michael Curtiz, 1935)

Graham Chapman em O Pirata da Barba Amarela (Yellowbeard, Mel Damski, 1983)

Robert Newton em Barba Negra, O Pirata (Blackbeard - The Pirate, Raoul Walsh, 1952)

Lisa Gastoni em Le Avventure di Mary Read (Umberto Lenzi, 1961)

Douglas Fairbanks em O Pirata Negro (The Black Pirate, Albert Parker, 1926)

Johnny Depp em Piratas do Caribe (Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, Gore Verbinski, 2003)

Kabir Bedi em Corsário Negro (Il Corsaro Nero, Sergio Sollima, 1976)

Gene Kelly em O Pirata (The Pirate, Vincente Minnelli, 1948)

Rod Taylor em O Pirata Real (Il Dominatore dei Sette Mari, Rudolph Maté/Primo Zeglio, 1962)

Anthony Michael Hall em Piratas da Informática/Piratas do Vale do Silício (Pirates of Silicon Valley, 1999)

Oops! Estilo errado.

September 14, 1934

Hollywood Gossip

EI = Evening Independent
LDN = Ludington Daily News
PPG = Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
TM = Time Magazine

Al Jolson, Ruby Keeler and Paul Whiteman are getting together for a one-night tour this season, similar to the Whiteman-Jack Pearl-Boswell Sisters enterprise early last year.  It’ll be arranged so that Whiteman and Jolson can get back to New York each Thursday night for their radio program. –PPG: 09-14-1934

If you remember Alan Hale driving down the road singing a nonsensical song which had little rhyme or reason, “It Happened One Night,” it may amuse you to know how the song was born.  When that particular sequence was being shot, Frank Capra, the director, told Hale to sing some old song.  Hale obediently started to sing, and selected a familiar tune. . . . . Capra said, “You can’t sing that, it’s copyrighted.  Don’t sing anything we’ll have to buy.”  Whereupon Hale started again, and each time they discovered that the song he was lustily rendering was something they couldn’t use without buying the rights for its use in the picture. . . . . Finally, at his wits’ end, Capra said:  “Sing anything—just make it up as you go along—but watch my hand.  When I raise it, sing high—when I lower it, sing low.” . . . . . Thus the origin of the crazy words and tune you heard as Hale drove his rickety Ford along that country road!   –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Virginia Helene)

Babe Ruth, having announced his retirement at the end of this season because he had reached the age of 40, received a birth certificate from his sister, learned that he was not 40 but 39.  –TM: 09-17-1934

Carole Lombard, the bravest lady we know, [has been] sending back encouraging messages to her worried friends.*   –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Louella Parsons)

Claudette Colbert, Eddie Cantor, the Gene Markeys, James Cagney, Bruce Cabot and Sally Blane [have been] getting writer’s cramp from obliging the youngsters.  –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Louella Parsons)

Newsreel audiences are snickering over that British accent brought back by Douglas Fairbanks.  –EI: 09-15-1935

The busiest brain in Hollywood belongs to Eddie Cantor.  Every time I talk with him I get dizzy keeping up with him.  Most of his ideas are good, too.  Next time I’ll take my typewriter along and borrow a few.  Eddie leaves Hollywood in 10 days for a radio engagement and a trip to Europe with Lynn Farnol, to be there when “Kid Millions” opens.  And while Eddie is getting the big hand from England and keeping his place in the radio sun he will invent a few gags for “Waiting at the Church,” his next musical for Samuel Goldwyn.  Meanwhile, Arthur Sheekman and Nat Perrin are getting the idea into shape.  –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Louella Parsons)

Fay Wray spends a lot of her spare time making sketches in charcoal and weaving tapestries.  She also collects rare perfumes.  –EI: 09-15-1934

Gayle Talbot, in a dispatch from London, points out the attitude at Elstree studios toward the “personal publicity” that is desired by most of Hollywood.  The studios there, the dispatch says, “Don’t think it is anybody’s business if their high salaried leading lady is going places with the latest juvenile importation from Hollywood.  Neither is it any concern of the public how much money little Sarah Twinkletoes, late of the ribbon counter, is making.” –LDN: 09-15-1934

Greta Garbo, reputedly so fond of seclusion, whould work in the English studios.  There, perhaps, she would find that freedom from publicity she so desires in Hollywood. –LDN: 09-15-1934

Harold Lloyd is one of the best of amateur magicians. . . And Clifton Webb paints in oils almost as well as he dances.  –EI: 09-15-1934

Hollywood’s most famous pair of “acting hands” belongs to Zasu Pitts.  An almost equally noted pair are at the disposal of Lee Tracy.  And not to be over-looked in the discussion is Helen Hayes, whose “talkative hands” helped her win an academy prize for acting. –LDN: 09-15-1934

Jane Wyatt, who made her screen debut recently in “One More River”—she played Diana Wynyard’s sister—is returning to Broadway next week for a role in Harry Segall’s “Lost Horizons.”  Rowland Stebbings in producing it. –PPG: 09-14-1934

Joe Penner [was recently seen] feeding his pals (40 of them) duck!   –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Louella Parsons)

On the rocky northern coast of Corsica sat Playwright Noel Coward, sipping a drink, waiting for his chartered yacht Mairi to pick him up. Two days before a Mediterranean squall had sent him scurrying ashore to shelter. As the storm abated he saw Mairi nose in toward shallow water, buckle up on a rock, spill her crew into the sea. Yachtsman Coward started to hike. Twenty miles down the coast he walked into the village of Ile Rousse, told his plight to a skeptical hotelkeeper, who cabled London. When Coward got back to the wreck he waded in to salvage what he could, then sailed to Nice, reporting: “All of the crew were saved. I went up to my neck in bilgewater on the wreck and managed to save my passport and the manuscript of my autobiography. I lost 14 suits of clothes. However, I saved my typewriter so I don’t have to worry about making a living.”   –TM: 09-17-1934

Walter Huston and Nan Sunderland frequently dine in quickie restaurants and chop suey palaces to escape the growing horde of autograph collectors.  –EI: 09-15-1934

William Seiter, director of “The Richest Girl in the World”, is an expert billiard player and can make a 5-cushion shot!  –EI: 09-15-1934

Hollywood is circus mad.  Film celebs, believe it or not, who visited Ringlings’ here are actually following the big show to Long Beach and Pasadena.  Wally Beery, the best patron of them all and by his own admittance a former elephant trainer, should get his fill of the big tent.  Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer has just bought a circus yarn, “O’Shaughnessy’s Boy,” by Mike Boylan and Harvey Gates for him and his boy friend, Jackie Cooper. . . . . It’s a natural for both of them.  Jackie plays the heir to an enormous fortune who runs away and joins up with the circus, while Wally is the elephant trainer.  First, of course, there is Beery’s “The Mighty Barnum” for Darryl Zanuck.  –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Louella Parsons)

There’s more ballyhooing these days about the child actors and actresses than there is about the grownup stars.  They declare on the RKO lot that Frankie Thomas, 13-year-old star of “Wednesday’s Child,” is second to none, and that when he is seen on the screen Shirley Temple and David Holt will meet their hottest competition.  Frankie is on the train now choo-chooing back to New York for a stage play; then he returns to make a picture for RKO.  His contract gives him permission to divide his time between New York and Hollywood so he must be good.  –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Louella Parsons)

One of the nicest things ever done by picture people was the marvelous co-operation they gave the Los Angeles Junior League in raising money for charity.  They agreed to play a pole game, and afterward arrange a barbecue under the trees near the pole field. . . . . Frank Borzage, the director; “Big Boy” Williams, Johnny Mack Brown and James Gleason made up one team, which was called the “Romancers,” while Walt and Roy Disney, Hal Roach and Raymond Griffith composed the “Funsters.” . . . . . Later Jack Warner substituted for Jimmy Gleason.  Spencer Tracy was to have played, but he was engaged in an important picture, and the Fox studio refused to let him participate in the game, as he held up production on a film not long ago due to an accident he suffered in a practice game. . . . . Eddie Cantor acted as master of ceremonies, and Jack Holt was referee.  Hundreds of tickets were sold and the day was a greater success than the Junior League had even hoped.  –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Virginia Helene)

Waiting on sets is tiresome for actors.  Even more so than the actual work they do.  It is so difficult to know just how long it is going to take to shoot a sequence, that all actors are required to be present most of the time, made up, and are sometimes not used for hours, or perhaps all day. . . . . Each time a new scene is photographed there must be rehearsals, the camera must be moved, and the lights arranged differently.  All of this takes so long that most players bring books, or knitting, or hook rugs to while away the hours.  Joan Crawford furnished her private theater with rugs she made between scenes on the set.  –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Virginia Helene)

Cemeteries are conspicuous by their absence in Hollywood.  It would almost seem that no one ever died here.  Someone said that the people who should have died long ago are still walking around, and that’s what is the matter with Hollywood!  –PPG: 09-15-1934 (Virginia Helene)

Four relatives of well-known stage people will dance in the chorus of “College Rhythm,” featuring Lanny Ross, Jack Oakie and Joe Penner.  They are Sally Rand’s brother, Harold; Russell Ash, son of Sam Ash, New York singer; Lee Middleton, daughter of Charles Middleton, Hollywood actor, and Jimmy Aye, brother of Marion, musical comedy star.  –PPG: 09-15-1934

*A Note from Vicki:  I can only assume that this bit of gossip is in reference to Carole Lombard’s recent loss of her fiance’, Russ Columbo.

September 3, 1934

“Names make news.” Last week these names made this news:

Vaulting from the platform of a private railroad car, a stouter but no less jaunty Douglas Fairbanks returned to Hollywood for the first time since the news of divorce proceedings put his name back into the headlines. But to inquisitive newshawks he would say nothing about the suit filed against him in California by his wife Mary Pickford, nor the suit filed in Britain by Lord Ashley against Lady Sylvia Ashley in which he appears as corespondent. Was he going abroad again? ”I do not expect to go back to England.”

Few hours later Douglas Fairbanks met Mary Pickford on a Beverly Hills street corner, got into her car, spent the after noon driving. That night he had dinner with her at Pickfair. One other guest was present. Afterwards Fairbanks took his hostess for a long moonlight drive alone. Said Mary Pickford : “Yes, I saw Douglas. Whether I shall see him again is in the lap of the gods.”

Next day Fairbanks lunched at Pickfair, went driving with Mary Pickford in the afternoon, dined with her. Said she: “I am so very glad that ‘Doug’ is back. His work always means so much to him. I am sure he will be happy here — now. The future must work itself out and it will. I just cannot bring myself to talk about these things that lie so near to my heart.” For the weekend Fairbanks drove off alone to his ranch near San Diego, thought better of it, sped back to Pickfair to get his wife.

Of her trip to Russia, Novelist Mary Roberts Rinehart said in Manhattan: “The indifference to life and the general callousness visible everywhere was deplorable. I saw a dead man lying in the street one day and people passing by and paying no more attention than if he had been a dog. The present Russian regime is built up from peasant life and it will take generations before they will replace the intelligent people who once guided and influenced Russia.”

“Yes, I’m 63 today,” rumbled Novelist Theodore Dreiser in Manhattan. “I find life still interesting. When I get to the point where I don’t find it interesting I’ll get out of it.” He read Novelist Mary Roberts Rinehart’s remarks on Russia (see above), snorted: “She learned that in four days. I suppose she inspected all of the three and a half million people in Moscow and learned all about the rest of the country in four days.”

Lord Edward Eugene Fernando Montagu, adventuresome second son of the Duke of Manchester, set up business in a hot-dog stand at Maidenhead, England, cleared $20 in 24 hours.

Not least among the reasons for the estrangement last year of the late Duke of Marlborough and his Boston-born Duchess was the insistence of Her Grace that the family spaniels be allowed to breed in the Bow Window Room of monumental Blenheim Palace. Last week, two months after her husband’s death, the Dowager Duchess of Marlborough was discovered living in a secluded farmhouse outside Oxford. With her were 80 Blenheim spaniels.

From Columbia, S. C., Governor Ibra Charles Blackwood dispatched two constables “to see what can be done about the nudist situation” on Cat Island, off Georgetown.

Back from a Scottish vacation, Andrew William Mellon surveyed his Pittsburgh desk, decided: “It will be a 12-hour day for me for the next few weeks.”

Senator Carter Glass sailed for England to seek fresh evidence in support of his militant belief that Sir Francis Bacon wrote Shakespeare.

In Port Arthur, Tex., detectives picked up a German, sent him to Memphis, Tenn. Charge: larceny of $1,500 from Clarence Saunders, originator and onetime owner of Piggly Wiggly Stores. No novelty was the loss of a few hundred dollars to Clarence Saunders. In 1923, with “a bag of gold estimated at $4,000,000, he hired a special train, descended on Manhattan to trap the “Wall Street gamblers” who were selling Piggly Wiggly short. No sooner had he skyrocketed his stock from $40 to $150 than the Exchange discovered his corner, barred Piggly Wiggly, ruined Speculator Saunders. With $2,900 borrowed from an old employe, he built a second fortune on a chain of 250 Clarence Saunders Stores, lost stores and fortune in 1930. Month ago a stranger approached him, said that he was Armgaard Karl Graves, Wartime spy of the German Secret Service and author of Secrets of the Hohenzollerns, that he and friends had buried $3,000,000 in gold on the coast of Haiti. To search for the treasure Clarence Saunders gave him $1,500, saw no more of him.

Time Magazine

L’art du déplacement de Jackie Chan est une source d’inspiration majeure pour les guerriers urbains contemporains.
Intemporels, ses mouvements sont fluides, puissants et largement inspirés des animaux certes, mais aussi des acteurs de films muets du début du siècle tel Harold Lloyd, Douglas Fairbanks, Charlie Chaplin et surtout Buster Keaton.

Pour arriver à ce niveau extraordinaire de précision et de proprioception, Jackie Chan à commencé l’entraînement à 7 ans avec au programme, Kung-Fu, cascades, cirque et théâtre.

The most famous of the Zorros.
Full of fun Parkour fo’ sure !