There are many curious and bewildering trick effects which cannot be produced by recourse to the methods I have already described. It is impossible to detail every artifice employed; for every film possesses some individual characteristics. Only the broad outlines of the general processes employed can be described in the course of these chapters, but the information thus afforded will enable one to fathom how the majority of these miraculous pictures are elaborated.

We have all laughed and enjoyed the class of trick-film portraying frantic haste and its concomitant disasters or escapades. The scene may represent a public street, a park, a hotel, or even a private residence. The fact that the ordinary members of the public figuring in the scene move at the normal speed throws the frenzied haste of the principal performers into more striking contrast. I recall two excellent films of this character. In one case the story represented the operation of a wonderful little machine which, when its handle was turned, radiated a magical influence of acceleration upon everyone within a certain range, precipitating ludicrous incidents and situations. One saw the vehicles and pedestrians flying along the crowded Regent Street of Paris with terrible speed. The dawdling nursemaid was galvanised into life when the apparatus was brought within a few feet of her—she rushed her perambulator and charged along the boulevard with the velocity of a racing car; while the errand-boy completed his duties at the pace of an aeroplane, and so on. Mr. James Williamson was responsible for the second film of this character, which portrayed the British Workman “waking up” and becoming a “hustler” of the first water. The bricklayers ran up and down the ladders like squirrels racing up a tree, while the bricks were laid so rapidly that one could not detect the movements of the workman’s hands, and the carpenter plied his saw so vigorously that it appeared to be a mere streak of light.

This peculiar effect may be produced easily by either of two methods. One is to turn the handle of the camera very slowly while photographing; but when the film is being shown to rotate the handle of the projector at a very high speed. The result is that the pace of every moving object in the picture is increased upon projection four, six, or eight times that recorded by the camera. In this case every moving object in the picture moves at the same pace. There are no contrasts between frantic movement on the part of some and slow, natural motion on the part of other people in the scene to enhance the ludicrous effect; moreover, the required result is left very much in the hands of the operator.

Accordingly, another and superior expedient was evolved and is now adopted universally. The picture is taken at the normal speed of sixteen pictures per second, but the film thus obtained after development is taken in hand, and its length is reduced by cutting out every other picture —or perhaps even more. If every alternate image is eliminated in this manner, and the remaining pieces of film are re-joined, the length of the film is reduced by one half, and when thrown upon the screen at the normal speed of sixteen pictures per second, the moving objects travel at twice the speed at which they were moving when photographed.

This removal of the images from the string of consecutive pictures is known as “manipulation of the film.” It is a tedious and delicate process, because joining together properly a series of images measuring only three-quarters of an inch in depth demands skill and patience. By its means, however, some bewildering effects may be obtained, one of which is shown in the illustration. This film depicts a lad who has been hypnotised. When he enters a dwelling his presence sets the furniture dancing violently, while a circular table round which four people are seated, revolves at a dizzy pace. For the purposes of this film the table and those seated around were mounted upon a pivoted platform free to revolve, which was driven from beneath the stage or from some other convenient point. At the right moment the table commenced to spin around—at a comparatively slow pace, so as not to unseat the performers by the results of centrifugal force—the camera meanwhile recording the movement. After the film was developed images were cut out at certain points, these excisions being so made as to reduce the length of film devoted to the table-spinning incident from 100 feet as recorded by the camera to twenty-five feet or so for the projector. Accordingly, when the film was thrown upon the screen at a speed of sixteen pictures per second, the table appeared to whiz round at a fearful velocity.

If double printing be associated with this manipulation of the film far more mirth-provoking and astounding situations can be produced. For instance, such stories as that of the magical apparatus described above, which spurs into unwonted velocity the traffic in a crowded street, may be prepared as follows:—The camera is set up in a suitable position overlooking the thoroughfare, and one film is taken very early in the morning, when the traffic is either absent or very insignificant. Here and there may be a pedestrian or vehicle, but their presence only heightens the effect. Perhaps 125 feet of film are expended upon this subject. The camera is then left until later in the day, when the traffic is at its highest, and another film is secured of the now busy street from the same point of view. Thus the stationary objects—the shops, lamp-posts, and so forth—occupy the same relative positions in each film, with the result that when they are placed one on the other a single impression of these fixed, inanimate objects is obtained. The second film, however, is longer than the first—perhaps it is 250 feet in length—but by cutting out each alternate image its length is reduced to 125 feet. The two films are now of the same length; one is placed on the other, and the positive print is made.

When the picture is thrown upon the screen the greater part of the wheeled traffic is observed to fly along in mad haste, while here and there a pedestrian or vehicle is seen sauntering in a very leisurely way—almost at a crawl by comparison. The latter are those photographed upon the first film which has not been touched, while the hastening vehicles and people are those photographed upon the second film, which has been manipulated into half its length.

If the excisions are made more heavily, and instead of every alternate picture being cut out, three out of four consecutive images are eliminated, the results are more ludicrous still. Suppose a man is being pursued, and runs as for dear life; if 100 feet of this episode are photographed, and the negative subsequently is reduced to twenty-five feet by manipulation, the man will not appear to be running when the picture is shown upon the screen, but will seem to be eluding capture by a series of long hops. In this instance two films and superprinting are requisite to give the most satisfactory result, the runaway being recorded upon one film and the pursuing crowd upon the second. Then while the man is shown to be leaping in a most extraordinary manner down the street, the crowd will be seen running in a perfectly natural manner.

Whereas the “stop” call is employed to effect sudden appearance or disappearance, a different method is essential for a gradual disappearance. Let us suppose the scene represents a magic cave in which the daring young hero is imprisoned by the wicked magician. Instead of the good fairy springing into the picture through a trap-door in the floor of the stage, as is the practice in legitimate pantomime, she is seen to materialise from nothing. The first sign of her advent is a slight nebulous haze in a certain part of the picture. This mist grows stronger and stronger, until at last it reveals the filmy outlines of the fairy, who in due course becomes as distinct and as clearly defined as the young hero she has come to assist. When the moment arrives for her disappearance she vanishes in the same mysterious manner, her body seeming to dissolve into thin air.

This apparition effect always provokes considerable interest and curiosity. It necessitates the use of a camera of such a design that the film can be driven both forwards and backwards, instead of in the first-named direction only. It must be fitted also with a special measuring indicator, and an easily adjustable diaphragm stop to the lens. The latter is of the rectilinear type, the results therewith being produced more easily and positively than by any other means. All these requirements are fulfilled in the “trick” camera, which is especially designed for work of this character.

For the purposes of explaining this operation I have obtained three films (see illustrations) by looking at which the process will be clearly understood. It is well known that as the aperture of a lens is closed, the quantity of light admitted to the sensitised surface behind is reduced, and if this action is carried out gradually by means of the rectilinear stop, without any variation in the length of the exposure, the image upon successive sections of the film will become fainter and fainter until nothing at all is recorded. The reverse action takes place as the lens aperture is increased in size by opening the diaphragm to admit a greater volume of light.

I will first explain the operation in its simplest form. The stop call is given and all the actors become stationary while the fairy stands alert to receive her cue to enter. The operator notes the point upon his indicator of the length of film used up to the time the stop call is given. For our purposes we will say it is 100 feet. The operator continues turning the handle at the same speed, but while so doing he gradually closes the lens aperture by means of the rectilinear stop, so that the images, owing to decreasing volume of light admitted through the lens, become fainter and fainter, until at last merely a haze is recorded. The effect of closing the stop in this manner is shown in the first film.

The operator consults his film register and finds that two feet of film have been consumed, representing thirty-two exposures, to carry the picture gradually to extinction, the indicator accordingly registering 102 feet at the conclusion of the operation. The fairy now receives her cue and steps into the required position in the picture. The operator resumes his turning, and during the next two feet of film, that is, another thirty-two exposures, he opens the stop just as gradually as he closed it, to its former aperture, the image upon the film thereby becoming stronger and stronger as increasing light is admitted through the lens.

The effect produced by this process is shown in the illustration. The first picture taken after the fairy has entered is scarcely discernible; then it becomes a slight haze in the next image, and as the aperture is increased her form slowly materialises until at last she is quite as distinct as that of the other actor in the scene, who meantime has retained his rigid position during the whole 64 exposures. When this second series of exposures have been completed, the film indicator registers 104 feet, two feet of film having been used in closing and another two feet in opening the lens aperture.

Now if the film is cut at the point representing 102 feet, and this second part of the film is superimposed upon the first in such a way that the second thirty-two exposures coinciding with the opening of the diaphragm are laid upon the thirty-two exposures representing the closing of the lens aperture, in the resultant positive the actor and the surroundings will stand out with uniform brilliancy throughout the superimposed section, and be equal in brilliancy and distinctness to the remainder of the film, for the simple reason that image 33—representing the first exposure under the opening of the stop and consequently the most indistinct picture—comes over image 1 in the stopping-down series of pictures, which is, of course, the most brilliant picture. Image 2 comes under image 34, and so on throughout the whole thirty-two pictures. As the pictures grow fainter on one film they become correspondingly stronger on the other film, with the result that when the two are overlapped and printed the sum of the two exposures produces a complete and fully-detailed picture, the second film supplying to the first precisely the complement of its incomplete exposure, in the case of each image.

But this action only affects the actor and scenery recorded upon the two sections of film. The fairy, having entered at picture 33, when the unstopping process was commenced, appears at first very indistinctly, like a small patch of mist, the nebulous haze resolving itself into her form slowly during the successive thirty-one pictures. The sum of this double exposure is represented by the third illustration, where the fairy is to be seen slowly materialising, the other parts of the picture under the double printing being of uniform brilliancy throughout.

This was the method adopted in the early days, but it was somewhat involved, and demanded recourse to double printing. The perfection of the camera mechanism has enabled the process to be considerably simplified. Now the operator makes a double exposure, with closing and then opening diaphragm upon the same length of film. When the “stop” signal is given he observes the indication on his film register. We will say it is 100 feet, as in the previous case. The actor becomes motionless and the operator resumes his turning while closing the stop slowly, until 102 feet of film are registered upon the dial, thirty-two exposures, or two feet of film having been made during stopping down. He now winds the film backwards into the upper film box until his dial registers 100 feet once more, the lens being capped during this operation. Thus he has regained the point upon his film where stopping-down commenced, and the two feet used in this process are ready to be exposed again.

At this point the fairy steps into position. The camera is re-started, and while the first thirty-two exposures are being made the lens aperture is opened, just as slowly and gradually as it was closed during the previous exposures. The result is that the portions of the films which in the first instance received a diminishing volume of light now receive a compensating increasing illumination, so that the effect upon this particular two feet of film, so far as the figure on the left and the scenery are concerned, is just as if they had been exposed once under a full aperture. The fairy, however, having been photographed only during the second exposure, appears at first very indistinctly. The result of the double exposure is shown in the illustration; and the gradual appearance of the fairy may be followed very easily. The outcome is exactly the same as obtained by double printing; but it is infinitely easier, and far more positive in its action than the delicate process followed by Robert Paul in the early days—the dissolution of the emulsion from the film by chemical action.

Exceedingly clever effects are obtainable under this double exposure process. Transformations from one scene to another are carried out in a manner that completely eclipse the handiwork of the stage-manager behind the footlights. Success depends to a great degree upon the skilfulness of the operator, because it is imperative that the stop of the lens should be closed and opened equally, in order that the combined exposures upon each successive image should be equal to a single exposure with a full aperture, so as to provide a uniform intensity and brilliancy throughout all the images.

The magic disappearances are worked in precisely similar manner, only in this instance the character leaves the picture at the moment the last image under the closing diaphragm has been taken. The film is wound back as before to the point where the “stop” call was given, and is subjected to a second exposure under an opening stop.

There are no limitations to the application of this form of trickery. Spirit forms can be produced to float in the air, recourse to the rising and falling lens front being made in conjunction with the manipulation of the diaphragm. Sylphs can be materialised from evening vapours; and articles of furniture can be transformed into human forms. Many of the pictures obtained in this manner are startlingly weird and magical. As a matter of fact, the manipulation of the diaphragm may be considered as one of the most useful weapons of trickery and magic in the hands of the cinematographic wizard.

Another miracle is performed when the public is introduced to the bottom of the sea to make acquaintance with the denizens of the deep, and the strange mermaid population. The audience is convinced that the pictures have been taken in the actual surroundings, because divers descend into the depths and they can see the air-bubbles rise from their helmets during respiration. The effect is certainly very realistic, and as the difficulties attending under-water photography are well-known, one wonders how these pictures can be obtained.

They can be produced by two methods. One is by using a large tank with a glazed front, in which the properties are distributed, while behind is a painted back-cloth to represent a submarine scene. The tank is filled with water, and fish are introduced to heighten the effect. Divers are employed to carry out their evolutions in the tank, which is brilliantly lighted, so that the sensitised ribbon in the camera disposed before the front window may be able to secure a well-defined image.

It is obviously impossible to introduce mermaids actually under water, since they could not breathe there; so for this part of the effect recourse to trickery is indispensable. A narrow tank with glazed back and front is set up on the stage, filled with water, and a few fish. The camera is brought as near as possible to this large aquarium and photographs the tank, the pictures being slightly under-exposed.

The tank is then removed, and a scene depicting the floor of the sea is prepared upon the stage, with a back-cloth of a grey neutral tint. Perhaps a property ship to represent a sunken wreck is set up to enhance the effect. Actresses made up as mermaids disport themselves upon the sea-bed, and divers are observed to make their descent from the surface, which in this instance is the “flies” of the stage. The film which the operator has exposed already upon the stage tank is now exposed again before this scene, and the commingling of the two produces a very mystifying effect when shown upon the screen.

A fascinating film of this character was made by the Gaumont establishment under the title of “The Siren.” A beautiful woman was observed to be swimming and diving in the watery depths with various fish as her companions. Her movements were so graceful and natural that it seemed impossible for them to have been produced while the actress was suspended from the “flies” by the aid of wires. How was it done? was an expression I heard on several occasions during projection in the picture palaces. The solution is very simple.

In the first place, a large aquarium was set upon the stage. It was stocked with fishes, which gambolled in a realistic manner, and the tank was photographed. When this exposure was completed the “Siren” had to be introduced.

The floor of the stage was cleared, and upon it, like a carpet, was laid a large back-cloth of a grey neutral tint, bearing faint designs of submarine growths, shells, weeds, and so forth, the work of the scenic artist. The operator carried his camera into the flies, and from a central point overhead set it up with the lens pointing downwards, and focussed the flat background spread out below. The actress then entered, and lying prone upon the back-cloth, carried out the movements necessary to simulate swimming and diving, moving the arms and legs and writhing the body to convey the correct natural impressions of under-water movement.

The rehearsals completed, the operator re-exposed the same film which had been previously exposed before the aquarium, and which had received a faint impression thereof. When the picture was projected the public was completely deceived; for the actress moved to and fro, in the company of fishes which darted from point to point, apparently unperturbed by the existence of the fair feminine form in their midst. In such operations as this, however, where a photograph has to be taken of an aquarium in the first instance, special attention has to be devoted to the lighting arrangements, so as to prevent the camera and the operator being reflected upon the film—since the water acts in the same manner as a mirror.

The audiences in picture palaces are sorely puzzled at the antics of motorists, cyclists, and others who, being pursued by an infuriated crowd whose anger they have raised for some reason or other, elude capture by turning their vehicles and running up the vertical walls of houses and buildings. The methods used in the presentation of the “Siren” are adopted here also. A cloth carrying a painted impression of the wall with its windows, doors, stack-pipes, and so forth, is laid upon the floor, and the camera lens is pointed thereon from a position in the flies. The vehicles are driven over this back-cloth, and the film conveys the idea that they have performed the impossible feat of riding up the wall. The effect is often improved by following the upward progress of the vehicle. This may be accomplished in two ways. Either the camera is moved horizontally along a track in the flies in synchrony with the advance of the vehicle, or else the rising and falling front of the lens is brought into use. Another means is to have resort to the “stop” action, the camera being rigid and the back-cloth moved across the floor a certain distance between each series of exposures.

For the production of elaborate trick pictures an extensive assortment of properties is demanded. When the episodes are accompanied by ludicrous catastrophes and smashes the public is moved to extreme mirth. In many of these pictures the performers are obtained from the vaudeville stage, being accomplished masters of knock-about, tumblers, cyclists, etc. Suppose a chase over house-tops is shown, accompanied by falls through the roof, the actors and actresses tumbling from floor to floor down to the basement. These pictures are prepared in sections. The first scene represents the roof, which is built up on the stage, while a back-cloth affords a vista of chimney-pots. At certain points in the roof are concealed trap-doors which, when the first actor brings his weight on them, collapse by the movement of the bolt or other support concealed beneath. The performers fall through the opening on to a soft mattress within, the extent of the fall being about four or five feet. In the next scene members of the company in turn fall through the ceiling of the sixth floor of the building. This scene is built up on the floor of the stage, the performers being stationed out of sight in the flies. The ceiling is represented by a piece of painted canvas with attached pieces of cardboard and canvas to resemble splintered woodwork and broken plaster. The ceiling is intact, but when the cue is given the leading actor jumps or falls through the painted canvas followed by a mass of débris and dust. The débris is merely properties thrown through the opening, while steam or smoke driven through the hole serves as dust. Perchance a party is dining in the room when the tumblers make their unexpected entrance through the ceiling, and the scene undergoes a complete disturbance as a result of the interruption. The next floor is reproduced in turn in the same manner upon the floor of the stage, and so on until the players come to a dead stop in the basement, when the cardboard and canvas débris produced by their hurried descent falls and practically buries them. The force of the latter is increased by men stationed in the flies, who hurl the material down pell-mell from their points of vantage through the hole the tumblers have made. As seen upon the screen it appears as if the house were cut in two from top to bottom, and the audience were permitted to follow the tumblers in their descent from floor to floor; instead of which, as we have seen, each floor is reproduced individually upon the stage. There is no indication whatever of this piecemeal preparation, although if the picture is followed closely it is readily apparent, because the performers in their descent do not comply with the laws governing the momentum of a falling body.

The laughable incidents showing men climbing laboriously through narrow chimney flues are attributable likewise to trickery. The chimney is merely a stage property, and generally is laid flat upon the stage, with the operator and his camera stationed in the flies, as in the production of the “Siren”; though, from the public point of view, the players appear to be crawling upwards through the narrow vertical brickwork passage, gathering an accumulation of soot in their advance. The latter is applied to their faces by the actors themselves as they move forward.