"In the Beginning, although far from being a perfect picture, is nevertheless one of the few truly great films thus far to come from a motion picture camera — either theatrical or amateur. Here, the magnificent beauty and awesome strangeness of the natural world have been seen in their fundamental and ultimate meanings. As an interpretation of the epic story of creation, In the Beginning follows directly in the noble tradition of Homer, Dante and Milton. One is left stilled and humble before the simple purity of imagination which conceived it. To this superb document of nature, F. C. Ells, ACL, the producer, has brought a technical skill and sensitive craftsmanship more than equal to the demands of his subject. Using as his titles direct quotations from the first chapter of Genesis, Mr. Ells has added a subtle undertone to the beautiful King James English by the use of primitive, geometrical symbols (indicative of fire, rain, infinity, etc.) for his title backgrounds. Somber and stunning scenes of the heaving waters, the new born earth and bursting streams in the first reel are followed, in the second, by flawlessly executed telephoto and macroscopic studies of the earth's myriad creatures. Integrating the entire production is a musical accompaniment of stately church music, recorded on disc by the Sistine Choir. Mr. Ells, who has looked upon the earth and found it good, has produced a sincere and beautiful film, great even as it falls short of perfection." Movie Makers, Dec. 1935, 550.
"Film is about the efforts a husband and wife take to make a lifetime supply of ink, only to find that it isn't worth it. Written, directed, acted, photographed by Charles (Dr. Charles E. Phillips) and Jean Phillips" Archives of Ontario.
"With the help of four wild ducks and two cooks, Dan Billman, jr., has produced a gay film of contrasting culinary abilities. With understandable economy, he has allotted only one duck to the novice cook, while three are given to a jewel of the kitchen. The preparation of the birds in competent hands is a delight to watch, for the closeups of each step are examples of superb interior lighting. The abandon with which the beginner mixes the dressing and what happens to her stuffed duck in cooking are presented in ludicrous contrast. The Inside Story has as its climax an attractive sequence of serving the perfectly roasted birds at a family dinner. A light touch is added by gay titles and their accompanying sketches, while special mention must be made of the fine scene shot from outside the house at night, to reveal the warm interior of a pine paneled room through the black tracery of the casement window frames." Movie Makers, Dec. 1945, 494-495.
"An Interlude in Happy Isles, made by Dr. Delmer J. Frazier, is one of those comparatively rare vacation pictures that tell their story in detail, but only in that detail which will mean something to an audience that did not have the good fortune to take the same trip. We have no road signs nor guide maps (except for cinematic effect), we don't even know where "Happy Isles" may be. All we know is that the Frazier family has a delightful time there; that they plan their trips with care; that they love the woods and the wild life; and, finally, that their appreciation of it all thoroughly entitles them to an interlude of pleasure. This film is an excellent technical job — the interiors at the beginning of the picture are beautifully lighted, and follow shots of the squirrels in the woods are quite amazing. However, it is the continuity of this picture, with its well planned incidents, that gives it Honorable Mention." Movie Makers, Dec. 1936, 549.
"Made by local amateur filmmaker Charles Scott, the film documents civic and public life in Norwich leading up to World War II and immediately following its conclusion. Beginning in 1933, Scott records acrobats, tightrope walkers and trapeze artists at the Norwich Carnival. The 1933 Armistice Parade features soldiers marching through the streets, halting at the eleventh hour. In 1934, Scott shows the Lord Mayor's Sunday celebrations at the Cathedral, as well as highlights from that year's Carnival. In 1935, Norwich celebrates the silver jubilee of King George V with decorations, parades, a military salute and an air display. January 1936 sees Norwich City Football Club taking on Chelsea in an FA Cup match at the newly built Carrow Road Stadium, with Scott capturing some of the action from his position behind the goal at the River End. Later that year, Scott returns to the Norwich Carnival once again, this time to catch an appearance by Hollywood starlet June Clyde. Norwich celebrates the coronation of King George VI with an extravagant street procession in May 1937. In 1938, with Britain gearing up for war, the Air Raid Precautions team practise fire-fighting and rescues, and test a new extension ladder. Following a break for wartime service, Scott returns to his film in 1946, documenting Battle of Britain Week by visiting the graves of servicemen and recording celebrations and parades in Norwich. Scott's film concludes with a visit to the home of prize-winning model engineer W.F.A. Way, who demonstrates some of his models on his garden track" (EAFA Database).
"An eye for topical touches and a persistence that would shame the most aggressive news cameraman are responsible for Terry Manos's success in recording the V-E Day activities in New York City. Without the aid of a telephoto lens and balked at every turn by finicking guards, Mr. Manos's camera nevertheless caught the full flavor of the celebration in Times Square as well as some amazingly sharp studies of the personalities who participated in the program at Central Park. For ignoring the theoretical limitations often ascribed to the 8mm. camera and producing a well knit movie of a great historical event, praise is due to an enterprising amateur." Movie Makers, Dec. 1946, 488.
"Stephen F. Voorhees's 400 ft. travel film of Italian architectural scenes deserves placement in this list because it combines three factors but rarely brought together in pictures of this type. First, the photography is extraordinarily good, not only with reference to the routine requirements of exposure and focus but because it is artistic throughout and the composition never descends to the casual or the "snap shot" level. Second, Mr. Voorhees's film has a natural and easy continuity, jogging amiably through Venice and its environs, much as a traveler might do himself, pausing for a bit of incidental human interest and catching a scene that the filmer felt was unusual but presenting it without any preliminary flourishes, as one friend who might have said to another in the course of a stroll, "Don't miss that, by the way," pointing to something seen on the way. Last of the three things, so unusual to find combined, is a professional study, made by the filmer, himself a great architect, preserving those details which he wished to bring from northern Italy for later possible use. The great Colleoni statue is studied from many angles. Details of tiles and other wall ornamentations are offered and buildings are presented from one viewpoint after another. Yet all of this is done unpedantically and the nonprofessional audience is not aware that this subtle architectural record is more than a delightful travel film." Movie Makers, Dec. 1931, 658.
"The film begins at a women's hairdressers. The manager asks one of the hairdressers to dinner that evening but she refuses as she has a customer, Mrs Blowers, who requires longer visits. At this the manager appoints Jane, a fellow hairdresser to take the appointment. Jane looks at the portrait of her fiance. We follow as the portrait dissolves into the real man. He works with cars and is informed that he has lost his job. Back at the hairdressers and Mrs Blowers arrives for her appointment. What starts as 'just a trim' becomes a longer matter. The clock shows 7.15 PM, closing time at the hairdressers. Jane loses her temper with her customer and insults her. The woman responds, stating that she will be making a complaint. On her way out Jane is informed that her customer was a stakeholder in the business. Jane meets with her boyfriend and they agree to share their bad news at a café. Later Jane discusses her situation with her friend but still despairs at her predicament. We see her writing a letter to her fiance, returning his ring and ending their engagement. She posts the letter. The next day at work Jane is informed of her week's notice. She begins cutting a young girl's hair. Outside one of the employees has alerted all about a fire. Jane notices smoke at her door. She covers the child and carries her out of the building but collapses from the smoke. The next sequence shows her in hospital. She is visited by her boyfriend and we see that she is wearing her engagement ring. At home recovering, she is visited by Mrs Blowers. This is where the film ends abruptly" (MACE Online Archive).
"'Japan and Its People,' Dr. Roy Gerstenkorn's educational class winner, was a pictured visit to the homes and temples of Japan. Ignoring the cities in his search for the story of the Japan that is not known to the average visitor the doctor penetrated the towns and smaller communities. His picture was awarded a high rating on its photography as well as on his treatment of the subject. After the showing of this picture before the Los Angeles Motion Picture Forum last summer the local school authorities requested and received permission from the doctor to make a duplicate of it for school purposes." American Cinematographer, Jan. 1938, 27-28.
"In L'Ile d'Orléans, Radford and Judith Crawley cross a bridge and come back. But they cross a bridge with a difference, because what they see and what they make us see on the other side of that bridge is the inner essence of a withdrawn people, who proudly conserve the memory of things past in the realities of things here. The Maxim Award winner opens a door into a region of Eastern Canada — the Island of Orleans — where old French and old Canadian folkways are lived placidly and with dignity. Actually, the camera crosses a very modern bridge at the film's beginning and returns over it at its end. But, once in L'Ile d'Orléans, in the hands of the two Crawleys, this Twentieth Century box of wheels and gears spins a tale of yesterday, even if it pictures just what its lens sees today. The landscape and the old houses, some of them there for more than two hundred years, set the decor, after which we come to the dwellers in this separate Arcady. They do, with a delightful unconsciousness of being observed, the things that make up their daily lives, and, when invited to take notice of the visitors, they do this with a fine courtesy that is the very refinement of hospitality. Mr. and Mrs. Crawley devote a liberal part of their footage to a careful study of home cheese making, in which camera positions and a large number of close shots turn what might have been a dull and factual record into something of cinematographic distinction. The highlight of the Crawleys' film is a leisurely and sympathetic watching of what is the highlight of life in l'Ile d'Orléans — the country Sunday. We see different churches, all of a general type, but each with its essential neighborhood individuality. Finally, one of these is singled out for an extensive camera visit. Bells ring and the country priest is shown with his gravity and solemn courtesy. The countryside comes to life with its church bound inhabitants who wind over the simple roads slowly yet purposefully and with the assurance of those who know that the land is theirs as it was their fathers'. With such pictures of everyday life, scored with appropriate music for double turntable showing, Mr. and Mrs. Crawley have etched an epoch, in a record which can stand on its own feet with good genre description in any art form. With not a single concession to sentimentality — as should be the case in honest work — but with a sure feeling for that which reaches out for the finer emotions, they have shown us what they found across the bridge. Here is personal filming at its best." Movie Makers, Dec. 1939, 608-609.
Total Pages: 28
Amateur Cinema