"Home movie made by Charles Devenish Woodley, showing the beekeeping operation at his home." Library and Archives Canada.
"Film made for screening at the annual banquet of the Toronto Movie Club held at Casa Loma." Library and Archives Canada.
"Edited travelogue footage of a trip down the Columbia River. Along with scenic views, industrial processes are documented such as harvesting grain, canning salmon, making plywood and the factory production of sweaters." Chicago Film Archives
"Edited travelogue footage of a trip down the Columbia River. Along with scenic views, industrial processes are documented such as harvesting grain, canning salmon, making plywood and the factory production of sweaters." Chicago Film Archives
"In one sense, the outstanding strength of The Gannets, Maxim Award winner for 1950, is its seemingly worst weakness. That strength is the unquestioned — but apparently accidental — entertainment which the film provides. Running a brief 400 feet of 16mm. color, the picture examines the famous gannet colony on Gaspe's Bonaventure Island, treating the giant birds with lighthearted good humor and casual unpretension. The entire accomplishment seems too easy. You could do it, you feel, over a single sunny weekend. But don't let this fool you. To begin with, there is the technique. In The Gannets, Warren Levett has employed with a knowing skill every technical artifice learned in long years of bird filming. Telephoto lenses present his gleaming subjects in crisp and astounding closeups. The follow shots of birds in flight are suave and invariably centered, while slow motion reveals arrestingly their superb aero-dynamics. Side and back lighting enhance repeatedly the natural beauty of the birds, aided on occasion by a shrewd use of the polaroid filter. Secondly, there is the subject matter treatment. Pictorially, Mr. Levett knows his way around a sequence with unerring instinct. He knows, too, the strength which lies in a pair of shears; his editing of a subject so often overladen by the amateur is incisive and refreshing. And, perfectly interwoven with the pictorial presentation, is the third strength of The Gannets — the delight of the picture's narrative. You learn things about gannets as you listen — but they're not long-winded nor in Latin — and you're scarcely conscious of the learning. What you are conscious of is that the gannet is a strange, gabby, beautiful and, sometimes, supremely ludicrous creature. You are, in a word, entertained as you are informed — and you love every light-hearted minute of it. It is only later, if at all, that you realize the true measure of this superb movie." Movie Makers, Dec. 1950, 446-447.
"With the help of almost unbelievable luck from the weather man, Helen C. Welsh has achieved a high level of what is essentially newsreel filming. Her subject matter is in itself appealing — displays of tulips in a public park, children wearing amazing holiday headgear, dancers performing Old World figures, all climaxed by the pageantry of the coronation of a new king and queen of the festival. But Miss Welsh handles it expertly. Her viewpoints are varied and her camera work accomplished, while a wisely sparse and well recorded narrative ties the whole presentation into an attractive package. Albany's Tulip Festival is colorful, entertaining and fulsome as a record of a city's spring holiday." Movie Makers, Dec. 1950, 464.
"Tackling the circus in broad daylight is a brave undertaking for the most advanced amateur. The lack of dramatic lighting and exciting colors found at night exhibitions or in darkened auditoriums puts the burden of making an interesting film squarely on the filmer. George Merz, in his Circus Time, has overcome these obstacles ably and with imagination. Highly competent camera work and excellent editing mark every foot of Circus Time. When the action threatens to lag, Mr. Merz knowingly inserts audience reaction shots of high human interest. A colorful musical score adds an extra fillip of excitement to moments that might otherwise become static." Movie Makers, Dec. 1950, 464.
"Al Morton has conquered another river. This time it is the unruly turbulence of the Green River in Utah. Not content to be simply a passenger, Mr. Morton built his own boat (and named it Movie Maker!) for shooting the rapids, one of three craft making up the river party. Green River Expedition is a record of lazy, sunny days on quiet stretches, of motor trouble and of scenery along the banks, of back breaking portages where the rapids are too dangerous to maneuver, and finally of the breath taking excitement of riding the tumultuous waters. To partake of this dangerous sport would seem accomplishment enough, but Mr. Morton puts it all on film as well, in about as sparkling, steady photography as one will ever see. The narrative accompaniment, while informative concerning the technique of river boating and the historical background of the surrounding country, seemed overfull. It is enough, in parts, to devote one's whole attention to the thrilling action on the screen." Movie Makers, Dec. 1950, 464.
"Almost since the beginning of amateur movies, the dawn-to-dusk continuity has been a perennial favorite in personal movie making. In Hands Around the Clock, William Messner presents a suave and refreshing variation on this well-worn theme. For in his version, as the title suggests, only a pair of hands (apparently belonging to a talented teen-aged youth) portray the morning-to-midnight activities being pictured. Outstanding in Mr. Messner's production is the implicit evidence of exact and imaginative planning. Scene flows into scene, and sequence into sequence, with an effortless ease which finds every transition in exactly the right place. Mr. Messner's musical score is pleasantly suitable, excellently recorded and accurately synchronized. The producer of Maxine's Big Moment, a 1948 Ten Best, has taken a big step forward in creative filming." Movie Makers, Dec. 1950, 464.
"Films about national parks and monuments fall into the traps of banality with greater ease than almost any other variety of footage. It was. therefore, with great delight that the judges reviewed Timothy and Delores Lawler's Isle of the Dead. For, using the famed Boecklin painting and the equally known Rachmaninoff music as theme and atmosphere, the Lawlers have produced a cinematic tone poem from the materials offered by Yellowstone and the Badlands. Their efforts completely dominate both music and painting, which become effective substrata of the esthetic whole. The film's great virtue and its slight defects spring from the same source — the single mood that the Lawlers have worked for and have achieved." Movie Makers, Dec. 1950, 464-465.
Total Pages: 299
Amateur Cinema