At times a trick picture cannot possibly be produced by any of the methods I have so far described. Accordingly, the producer has to rely upon his own ingenuity and inventiveness to cope with an unusual situation or effect.

Some years ago an extraordinary film was produced by Mr. James Williamson which created no little astonishment. It was entitled “A Big Swallow,” and was decidedly startling in its effect. It depicted a man to whom the sight of a cinematographer acted as a red rag to a bull. On this occasion he was goaded to such desperation that he advanced towards the camera with open mouth. Upon reaching it he gave a terrific bite, and swallowed the whole apparatus and operator, the final scenes showing him retracing his footsteps apparently enjoying his strange meal, and satisfied that he had disposed of one cinematographic fiend at least.

Curiously enough, although the idea adopted in this instance offers illimitable possibilities, it apparently has never been exploited since. This particular film never failed to arouse the enthusiasm of the public, and there was considerable speculation upon all sides as to how it was carried out. Through the courtesy of Mr. Williamson I am enabled to unravel the mystery.

It is well known by amateur photographers that when a person is focussed a certain distance from the camera, if he steps towards the instrument the focus is immediately upset. When the individual is taken in motion, and in such a way that he comes right up to the lens, this difficulty is enhanced. It is impossible to keep adjusting the focus of a cinematograph camera while the subject is advancing, because the focussing tube is obstructed by the passing of the film through the gate.

Accordingly, Mr. Williamson resorted to a combination of the cinematograph with the racking bellows of the ordinary camera. The latter, of special design, was attached to the front of the cinematograph instrument, the bellows attachment carrying the lens. The camera was set up, and the distance between the apparatus and the actor was measured and marked off upon the ground. Observations were made to ascertain at what points the actor in advancing should be re-focussed, and these points were indicated upon the ground. The camera bellows was then racked out until the figure was focussed sharply once more, and this point was indicated upon the base-board of the bellows. The figure then advanced still closer, until a similar result was observed, when the bellows was racked out a little farther, focussed, and a second mark was placed on the base-board corresponding to that on the ground. The process was continued until the figure had advanced right up to the camera.

The picture had to be taken under the “stop motion” principle. At the word “Go!” the actor advanced to the first mark, where he stood stock-still, while the camera bellows was racked to the point indicating the correct focus. The second picture was taken under the same conditions, and so on, until the actor’s face almost touched the lens of the outstretched bellows. In the first photo the actor was seen at full length, with the lens set in a horizontal line with his mouth. As he approached the camera, less and less of the lower part of his body was to be seen in each successive picture. Presently only his head was recorded; then nothing but the open mouth and teeth; and at last, when he almost touched the lens, nothing but a black cavity was revealed upon the film.

The actual swallowing operation had now to be carried out. For this purpose a large window opening into a darkened room was required. The window was covered with dead-black material, leaving only the opening. The camera was set upon a stage, and the window cavity focussed in such a way that the opening occupied the whole of the picture. On the inside of the building a thick mattress was placed with stage hands in readiness. The camera and operator were set up before this cavity as if photographing the approaching irate individual, and were photographed by a second camera. This was intended to represent the former scene from the moment where the man’s mouth only was visible upon the picture in the form of a black space, and for which the opened window sufficed.

At the critical moment the camera was pushed gently over through the window opening, and immediately afterwards the operator dived into the chasm, the last sign of him being his upturned feet as he fell downwards head first into the interior through the window, to alight upon the mattress placed below to receive him.

When he had disappeared in this manner the third scene had to be taken. This represented the actor stepping back from the camera after he had devoured his antagonist. When he retreated to the mark on the ground nearest to the camera, the bellows was racked in to its corresponding mark on the base; then the second backward step was made by the actor to the next mark on the ground while the bellows was racked back to the next mark, this succession of stop-motions being in the reverse direction to the advance. As the actor retreated, his teeth were seen to close with a snap, and the look on his face as it came into view revealed intense satisfaction with his strange feast. Retreat was carried out in this series of steps until the actor had regained his original position.

In this film the difficulty of keeping an advancing and retreating figure in focus was solved very ingeniously; and when the pictures were projected upon the screen the illusion was perfect, not the slightest sign of a stop between the exposures being detected. As a matter of fact, the advance and retreat series of pictures were produced at one time, the disappearance of the camera and operator being taken later; and upon the development of the negatives, the last episode was introduced between the other two at the correct point. As the area of the open mouth when close to the lens more than covered the sensitised picture, the opening in the blackened window as it appeared upon the screen gave no intimation as to the manner in which an ordinary individual contrived to swallow a camera, tripod, and operator at one gulp.

During a recent General Election infinite amusement was provoked by the display upon the public screens, which appear to have become an inseparable feature of such political events, of a film depicting “The Dissolution of the Government.” The dissolution was complete in the fullest sense of the word. A picture—a conventional portrait—of one of the members of the Cabinet was thrown upon the screen. Slowly it was observed to undergo a strange and ludicrous transformation. An eye slipped down into the collar, the chin fell away, the nose was lengthened abnormally, and the forehead narrowed to nothing. The conditions presented were the most extraordinary to conceive, and the manner in which the features melted into oblivion leaving a transparent surface, or only a series of indecipherable streaks, aroused indescribable merriment in the crowd. It is certain that no “election” film ever has proved such a diversion as this trick picture.

The idea was worked out by Mr. F. Percy Smith. Like many other displays of cinematographic magic, its success was due to its simplicity. Every amateur photographer in his earliest days has endeavoured to force the drying of a glass plate after development by placing it before the fire. Invariably the effort ends in disaster. The gelatine melts and causes the emulsion to run all over the plate, producing grotesque results.

In order to produce this bizarre film a primitive apparatus was contrived, consisting of a small tank the back and front of which were cut out to admit pieces of glass. This tank was filled with water and placed upon an ordinary spirit stove. The cinematograph camera was placed in front, and at the rear a powerful electric light was arranged in such a manner that the illumination was diffused equally over the rear glazed part of the tank. A transparency portrait of the politician was then copied upon a small glass dry photographic plate, developed and fixed. It was then suspended in the small tank between the camera lens and the electric light, so that the illuminating rays passed through it, throwing the features in the picture up brilliantly. The water was heated by the spirit lamp beneath, the rise in the temperature being followed closely with a thermometer; and when the requisite degree of heat was obtained, the features upon the transparent plate, owing to the melting of the gelatine emulsion, commenced to slip and slide about over the glass surface, and were caught in the act by the camera.

Although the process appears absurdly simple, considerable time had to be expended upon the subject to secure the most grotesque results. One portrait frequently had to be prepared and boiled in this manner six or more times before a sufficiently ludicrous effect was secured. Owing to the capriciousness of the gelatine emulsion, occasionally the whole coating would slip bodily off its glass support. The temperature of the water had to be judged to a nicety, and suitable arrangements had to be made to prevent the boiling water from marring the photographic effect upon the celluloid film by the interposition of bubbles. Our illustration shows a member of the Government under photographic dissolution in this manner. The treatment has almost infinite possibilities, for no two plates are affected alike. This film appealed to the American taste. After the British Government had been dissolved in this manner, a second film had to be prepared, in response to the demand from the United States, dealing with the dissolution of the American Government at the time of the last Presidential Election, the portraits subjected to this drastic and peculiar treatment being those of members of the United States Cabinet. This film created just as great hilarity in the United States as attended its exhibition in this country.

During the past two years the silhouette trick film has come to the front owing to the novelty of the fundamental theme and the successful combination of humour with mystery. We all know the old shadowgraph play, wherein the actors carry through their parts behind a white sheet before a powerful light, which casts their shadows upon the screen. The idea is now applied to cinematography. One or two films of this character made their appearance some time ago from foreign sources, but it has been left to an English experimenter, Mr. C. Armstrong, to reduce this ingenious trick subject to an exact science.

In an American attempt in this direction, living actors were used, but the outcome was scarcely happy, inasmuch as the trick effects were very limited, being confined mostly to weird contrasts in the sizes of the figures thrown upon the screen, arising from the proximity of the actor to the light. If he stood near the illuminant his stature was that of an immense giant, while if he enacted his rôle near the screen, his shadow was just life-size. Mr. Armstrong has improved upon this method by resorting to the use of models, constructed of flat material, with jointed limbs, like dolls, in order to secure ludicrous poses and situations and impossible statures.

Seeing that only silhouette figures are required, it seems a very simple and easy matter to fashion the models and move them through their parts to obtain the desired effect; but such is far from being the case. Both preparation and manipulation demand unremitting care and patience. It may be pointed out at once that exclusive use has to be made of “the one turn one picture” movement, the models being shifted a small fraction of an inch between each exposure. When one has a group of figures to move in this manner, the work is exceedingly tedious, weeks often being spent upon the production of a single film.

When Mr. Armstrong embarked upon this enterprise he concluded that the work could be accomplished without any great effort, but he was soon disillusioned. Moreover, he found, to his dismay, that in order to produce really striking trick effects, combined with complex movements, perfect in every detail, it was not only the construction of the models which presented many difficulties and required great mechanical skill, but that the most intricate part of the work, involving a vast amount of patience and extremely delicate manipulation, proved to be the actual taking of the negatives. Innumerable failures attended the first attempts. It was only after months of practice, and after he had devised numerous special accessories, that Mr. Armstrong gradually brought his methods to perfection. The outcome of his perseverance was seen at the Palace Theatre, London. The film was entitled “The Clown and his Donkey,” and it provoked the audience to unrestrained mirth.

Such work not only demands the conception of a suitable subject, its adaptation to technical requirements, and the preparation of the negatives to express humour and produce movements portraying distinct traits of character and temper; but, as I have said, the construction of the models presents singular difficulty, in view of the complexity of the movements. It is indispensable that the person who takes the negatives should also construct the models, the mechanical peculiarities of which must be understood to a nicety.

The supplementary devices necessitated by the work seem to be without limit; and to overcome the constantly recurring technical obstacles, it is essential that the operator should be endowed with quite exceptional mechanical resourcefulness; otherwise he will be baulked time after time. Frequently he will find himself faced with a difficulty, successful extrication from which, without compromising the subject upon which he is working, will tax his ingenuity to the last degree.

The most lucrative field for silhouette trick cinematography should lie in its application to the production of animated advertisements and caricatures; for the idea possesses the indispensable attribute of novelty, which is the mainspring of commercial success.

As for caricature, despite the promising look of the field, there are certain practical obstacles to success: first, the time occupied in production, and second, a hostility on the part of the theatres to political films of a party character—an attitude easily explainable, as it is the aim of such establishments to appeal to one and all.

We give a few illustrations showing, in caricature, Mr. Asquith speaking. The various attitudes clearly show the wonderful possibilities of silhouette trickery, and also demonstrate strikingly what can be done by a skilful operator with finely executed models. The ones in the illustration are made of metal.

In regard to advertising, the innovation is unquestionably of real importance, and I am told that use has been made of it with conspicuous success by a prominent European cigarette manufacturing company. This concern acquired a film measuring 300 feet in length, which figured continuously in the programmes of the picture palaces. It was most ingeniously conceived and worked out, the actors being a large burly figure endowed with a movable nose, which changed from snub to aquiline, a baby boy, and a chimpanzee, all of which characters are shown in the illustration. The movements were carried out with perfect realism. The burly figure is at one side of the stage, while the words, “The Best Cigarette is——” appears at the top of the picture.

The chimpanzee and the baby come forward from opposite sides, each picks up a rod from the ground, by means of which the letters forming the name of the firm are jerked up alternately. They then drop the rods; a box comes flying along, and is caught by the monkey, who tenders it to the baby. The latter takes out a cigarette, which he throws across the stage straight into the burly figure’s mouth; he then does a somersault across the monkey’s back, steps on to one of the hands of the large figure, and after he is raised to the requisite height, the baby produces a match and lights the cigarette. The burly man puffs away, demonstrating his satisfaction with the quality of the cigarette by facial contortions. In the meantime the baby has descended, and the large figure having lowered the hand holding the cigarette leisurely, the baby seizes it, and, placing it in his mouth, sends forth a big puff of smoke.

The effect of this absolutely novel advertisement seems to have been extraordinary in Germany. One company after another is being formed in that country, systematising publicity in the picture halls, affiliating a number of them under contracts involving sole rights for showing advertising films on terms of payment according to the length of film shown. The halls seem, naturally, to prefer humorous and trick films to sober industrial subjects. Things seem to move more slowly in this country. Many halls would no doubt welcome good trick advertising films, which would yield them an additional substantial income, and at the same time would amuse and mystify their audiences.

Finally, we would refer to the excellent purposes to which this invention is being applied in the matter of announcement films, to replace the conventional lantern slides. A typical subject of this description, “Ta-Ta, Come Again,” is illustrated. The actors comprise a baby elephant, a jackdaw, a chimpanzee, and a tiny monkey.

The elephant and jackdaw alternately draw letters from a box and throw them into the air to form the title. The last letter, N, while being slowly raised into position by the elephant, is snatched up by the jackdaw, who flies away to set it in position. The tiny monkey then appears, carrying an exclamation sign, which he balances on the tip of one of his feet, and finally tosses into its place. He then steps on to the tip of the elephant’s tail. The chimpanzee now advances, seizes the elephant by the trunk, and pulls him sliding off the stage.

Silhouette trick films, the production of which has become the speciality of this manufacturer, lend themselves to vast development. I have seen some subjects produced by European and American firms which represent possibly the high-water mark of this form of magic cinematography. But the enterprise has one distinct disadvantage. The preparation of the films is slow, and the process is unavoidably expensive.

Novelty in trick cinematography, which is essential to popular success, is difficult to hit upon. Some years ago Mr. Robert Paul experimented with a new idea, the result of which is shown in the illustration. The strange poses of the actor will occasion interest and speculation as to how they were obtained. The camera, while the exposures were being made, was revolved, the actor on the stage meanwhile maintaining his feet. The resultant pictures conveyed the impression that the subject photographed was rolling over and over, and flying through the air. This idea does not appear to have been exploited, although it should offer opportunities to produce some highly bewildering effects.

Time and cost are the most adverse factors in this ramification of moving pictures. The market could absorb four times the number of trick subjects that are produced at present, so long as they were comparable with “The Little Milliner’s Dream” and “Princess Nicotine.” But their popularity would not always compensate the producer for the time and expense of the preparation. Under the present conditions governing the manufacture of trick films, distinct arrangements and facilities must be provided for their manufacture, so as not to disturb the routine preparation of ordinary subjects. These are the main reasons why to-day trick films worthy of classification in the first rank are so rarely seen—the majority of so-called trick films are pure inanities. In fact, the trick film of the highest order is in danger of extinction, because for every trick film that is produced half a dozen ordinary film plays can be placed on the market.