The archive within an archival screening

The UCLA Film and Television Archive regularly programs series that focus on a certain subject, country's work, or the specific work of a director or actor. These last two months have been a treat for Joan Blondell fans like myself, as the Archive programmed 14 prints of her films, all on 16mm and 35mm, and from the screenings that I attended, in great shape. Each screening was preceeded by rare home movies of Blondell and her family in their home from the 1940s, followed by a double feature of her films. My favorite film of Blondell that would have been perfect to show in the Christmas season is Desk Set, but knowing this film line for line, I was sated by knowing I would be learning more about her career with the chosen films.

For an archivist like myself, an evening that rang true was November 5th, featuring Three on a Match and Three Broadway Girls, both of the Precode era. Precode films are known for being a little more risque than their counterparts, as with the code came heavy censorship. Joan Blondell was a princess when it came to Precode female roles, as illustrated by her character in Three on a Match who is seen as a juvenile delinquent turned Broadway star. As the film progresses, she soon has to convince Ann Dvorak's character to give up her wild life of drugs and drinking and go back to her husband and child. Bette Davis is featured in an early role as a third friend (the three share a match and bad luck ensues). Three Broadway Girls features Blondell as one of three actresses trying to make ends meet during the great depression.

Archivally, this evening exploded on the screen with so many layers of how the moving image captures time. The home movies, restored from the original 16mm elements and shown digitally, capture what the home of a movie star would have been like back in the 1940s. Just by seeing that these 16mm films were shot in color, the audience can see that Blondell and husband Dick Powell were of status. The hair styles, the love they show their child (now much older and attended all the screenings with his charming wife) and the wonderful environment of their Hollywood home gave a glimpse into a very specific time of this family's history.

In Three on a Match, the story begins at the turn of the century, and shows the characters growing up before they become their leading parts. Each time period is shown passing by shots of newspapers and archive footage of that history of time. Imagine, a 1932 film that utilizes archive footage! The events that are told are specific to their time as well. For example, when the three lead females are first shown, a newspaper clipping from the early 1900s discussing how mandatory education was just enforced is shown and the film cuts to a public school playground. 

Three Broadway Girls, also featuring Madge Evans and Ina Claire was shown on 16mm and surprisingly was of better quality than Three on a Match, much to my surprise (although for their age both were quite stunning to see on the big screen). A lighter plot, I was still awed that because this took place in the time that it did, a peak into that specific moment in history was unveiled. The costumes, hair, and difference in class, generation, and styles of living between the characters, not to mention the hysterical banter between the leads that left us laughing the whole car ride home, brought us back to a time now gone.

I congratulate the UCLA Film and Television archive on being able to consistently program titles that speak to audiences. If you haven't gone to one of their events, I recommend going soon. The series still has two more screenings and details can be seen here:

https://www.cinema.ucla.edu/events/2016/blonde-crazy-joan-blondell

New Beverly Cinema presents Flower Drum Song in Vibrant IB Technicolor

"Vibrant" is really the only adjective to explain an IB Technicolor print. A print that goes through a dye process in its making, the colors are permanent and help provide a reference to people who want to know how the film is supposed to look in years to come. As studios today pop out remastered versions of films on home video, streaming, and even DCP for repertory movie theaters, the debates between how far off the colors were from the original release or rereleases in the past always comes into question. No film is ever kept the same color as its original negative. Timing the colors based on the cinematographer's desired mise-en-scene has been in effect since the dawn of color cinema. How these colors should be timed from the original negative can be referenced in several ways, but with the changing technology of our times, using one of these non-fading prints is the ideal way. So the question does come into play, is it responsible for one to run these prints until they wear out, or should they be preserved for longevity purposes so that the film can be seen as intended for generations to come?

While these prints probably shouldn't be used for projection on a regular basis, when one gets an opportunity to see one, it is a real treat-- given that the film is in good condition. When the New Beverly has shown an IB print in the past, however, they tend to be worn, scratched, filled with splices that cut out sections of the film, and tend to have a worn optical track as well. The Sergio Leoni series it had months ago are examples of this. While the theater raved about showing the entire series in IB Technicolor prints, it had (less than three years earlier) ran the majority of these films in prints that looked much better and had the same quality of color, albeit without the "IB Technicolor" branding. This leads to another question when the New Beverly does their "Vibrant IB Technicolor" screenings, which I am a sucker for and try to catch, hypocrite that I am. What would be better to see, a very scratched up and spliced-to-pieces print that went through this dye process, or a print in better condition which generally, if there still are the correct color timings, could be of much better quality?

The screening of Flower Drum Song was a treat, as the New Beverly usually does deliver. The colors blew me away, as did the opportunity of seeing the dance numbers on the big screen. A musical film of that caliber with the framing of its dance sequences, choice of dreamy colors, and incredibly talented cast (many of the actors were from the Broadway production), should be seen on the big screen, regardless of the print quality. The very geometry of where people fall into the frame during the song and dance numbers is so impressive and can't be captured on a television in your home. It's unfathomable how people could have watched this film in the days of pan-and-scan before letterbox became available.

The print was great in some sections, with only minor vertical scratches (base and emulsion). However, there were some pretty spliced up sections as well during the dialogue sections. Given that this film has a light plot and is more about the environment that the characters live in (a very stereotyped Chinatown, San Francisco in the 1950s), there was nothing wrong with the two to three scenes that had this issue. One of the scenes toward the end that had the most splices, in which the two main love interests reconcile, is known for slowing down the film's pace, so the fact that it was sped up meant the audience could stay engaged with the film.

The sound of the print was less than ideal. Being a 1961 Cinemascope film, Flower Drum Song was released in 4-track stereo prints. While general release prints would might have been downmixed to mono, the fidelity of this print sounded as though the 4 track stereo was simply compressed onto a mono track without any mixing done. Usually, levels would be adjusted for this sort of thing but in this case, the audio of the music numbers was very blown out on the optical track, making the lyrics inaudible and the sound of the instruments grainy and distorted. The purpose of an IB Technicolor print is to simply reference the colors of the original negative, so the sound quality was never intended to be pristine, but if one watches a mono film on IB prints, this usually isn't a problem. I wonder if the original mix had been mono if we would have had a different sound experience in that theater.

Content rating: A-
Presentation rating: B

New Beverly Cinema presents Flower Drum Song in Vibrant IB Technicolor

"Vibrant" is really the only adjective to explain an IB Technicolor print. A print that goes through a dye process in its making, the colors are permanent and help provide a reference to people who want to know how the film is supposed to look in years to come. As studios today pop out remastered versions of films on home video, streaming, and even DCP for repertory movie theaters, the debates between how far off the colors were from the original release or rereleases in the past always comes into question. No film is ever kept the same color as its original negative. Timing the colors based on the cinematographer's desired mise-en-scene has been in effect since the dawn of color cinema. How these colors should be timed from the original negative can be referenced in several ways, but with the changing technology of our times, using one of these non-fading prints is the ideal way. So the question does come into play, is it responsible for one to run these prints until they wear out, or should they be preserved for longevity purposes so that the film can be seen as intended for generations to come?

While these prints probably shouldn't be used for projection on a regular basis, when one gets an opportunity to see one, it is a real treat-- given that the film is in good condition. When the New Beverly has shown an IB print in the past, however, they tend to be worn, scratched, filled with splices that cut out sections of the film, and tend to have a worn optical track as well. The Sergio Leoni series it had months ago are examples of this. While the theater raved about showing the entire series in IB Technicolor prints, it had (less than three years earlier) ran the majority of these films in prints that looked much better and had the same quality of color, albeit without the "IB Technicolor" branding. This leads to another question when the New Beverly does their "Vibrant IB Technicolor" screenings, which I am a sucker for and try to catch, hypocrite that I am. What would be better to see, a very scratched up and spliced-to-pieces print that went through this dye process, or a print in better condition which generally, if there still are the correct color timings, could be of much better quality?

The screening of Flower Drum Song was a treat, as the New Beverly usually does deliver. The colors blew me away, as did the opportunity of seeing the dance numbers on the big screen. A musical film of that caliber with the framing of its dance sequences, choice of dreamy colors, and incredibly talented cast (many of the actors were from the Broadway production), should be seen on the big screen, regardless of the print quality. The very geometry of where people fall into the frame during the song and dance numbers is so impressive and can't be captured on a television in your home. It's unfathomable how people could have watched this film in the days of pan-and-scan before letterbox became available.

The print was great in some sections, with only minor vertical scratches (base and emulsion). However, there were some pretty spliced up sections as well during the dialogue sections. Given that this film has a light plot and is more about the environment that the characters live in (a very stereotyped Chinatown, San Francisco in the 1950s), there was nothing wrong with the two to three scenes that had this issue. One of the scenes toward the end that had the most splices, in which the two main love interests reconcile, is known for slowing down the film's pace, so the fact that it was sped up meant the audience could stay engaged with the film.

The sound of the print was less than ideal. Being a 1961 Cinemascope film, Flower Drum Song was released in 4-track stereo prints. While general release prints would might have been downmixed to mono, the fidelity of this print sounded as though the 4 track stereo was simply compressed onto a mono track without any mixing done. Usually, levels would be adjusted for this sort of thing but in this case, the audio of the music numbers was very blown out on the optical track, making the lyrics inaudible and the sound of the instruments grainy and distorted. The purpose of an IB Technicolor print is to simply reference the colors of the original negative, so the sound quality was never intended to be pristine, but if one watches a mono film on IB prints, this usually isn't a problem. I wonder if the original mix had been mono if we would have had a different sound experience in that theater.

Content rating: A-
Presentation rating: B