#655) Dixon-Wanamaker Expedition to Crow Agency (1908)

#655) Dixon-Wanamaker Expedition to Crow Agency (1908)

Directed by Joseph and Roland Dixon

Class of 2018

2025 UPDATE: The original version of this post was based on 3 ½ minutes of “Dixon-Wanamaker” I was able to find online. Another 45 minutes has recently resurfaced, and I’ve updated my thoughts on the film based on that. Thanks as always to Benjamin Wilson for finding this footage.

Around the turn-of-the-century, Indigenous tribes were considered a “vanishing race” by White America, and efforts were made to assimilate the tribes into quote-unquote American culture. Part of this effort was a series of expeditions led by pastor and self-ascribed Native American expert Joseph Dixon. Funded by department store magnate Rodman Wanamaker, the first Dixon-Wanamaker expedition in 1908 travelled to Crow Agency, Montana to meet with and document the Crow tribe. An avid photographer, Dixon and his son Roland took thousands of pictures (and of course film) of the tribe and their customs. Although Dixon’s intention was to present their lives “without any hint of the white man’s foot”, most of the results were staged for the camera and deemed by historians as “romanticized and commercialized”. This footage was projected at the Wanamaker’s flagship store in Philadelphia as part of an exhibition on Native Americans.

The available “Dixon-Wanamaker” footage is a seemingly random collection of shots, including various members of the Crow tribe and a handful of their customs. While there isn’t much to gauge about the Crow people in this footage, there is no doubt about this film’s historical significance. Of course the customs of any Indigenous tribe should be lived and practiced by their people rather than observed and studied by the likes of me, but the fact that any of this was documented and has survived is a mini-miracle and worthy of NFR induction.

Why It Matters: In keeping with the “historical significance” argument, the NFR’s write-up has no superlatives, only giving us an academic paragraph about the film’s production and preservation.

Other notes 

  • The additional 45 minutes I have seen are pretty much more of the same from the 3 ½ minute version, just longer. Why watch 10 seconds of a large caravan parading across the camera when you can watch 2 minutes?
  • To the best of my knowledge, most of this footage comes from one of the first Crow Fairs. Started in 1904 to celebrate the Crow people and their customs (which were in danger at the time of being wiped out completely), the Crow Fair is still an annual tradition, and the footage here includes many elements of the Fair that continue to this day, including a parade and a rodeo. Watching the Crow ride bucking broncos circa 1908 is interesting given that for some, this may in fact have been their first rodeo.
  • The notion that this film is from the Crow Fair would also explain the large group of White people appearing in these early shots. And I assume that’s Dixon trying to get onlookers to move out of the frame so the camera can get an unobstructed view.
  • Of course, any footage of the Crow in this era is good to have, but this all feels so staged. Other than the performative events of the Crow Fair, I’m not getting a sense of actual culture and traditions. I don’t walk away from this knowing anything about the Crow and their centuries long struggle to survive. Maybe the shoppers watching this at the Wanamaker’s display got more context, but then again maybe not.
  • Why are there nuns in this? So much for the whole “no White influence” credo. Why do Catholics have to spoil everything?
  • Towards the end we spend a lot of time at a memorial in the Crow reservation for members of the 7th Cavalry Regiment who died in the Battle of the Little Bighorn, aka Custer’s Last Stand. Much like the Crow people and their history, the Battle of Little Bighorn is too monumental to cover here (and I have no memory of how it’s portrayed in “Little Big Man”), but it is noteworthy as part of the Great Sioux War of 1876, the culmination of decades of fighting by the Crow to protect their land from the encroaching Sioux and Lakota tribes.

Legacy 

  • The first Dixon-Wanamaker expedition was successful enough to warrant two more. The 1909 expedition returned to Crow Agency, and a recreation of the Battle of the Little Bighorn was filmed with four Crow tribe members who were part of the original battle. The third and final expedition in 1913 was a nationwide journey to 89 different tribes dubbed an “expedition of citizenship” to support Native Americans becoming recognized as U.S. citizens (a status they would eventually receive in 1924). Despite the good intentions of Dixon and Wanamaker, the 1913 expedition was not well-received by every tribe, particularly those in the Southwest (Navajo, Hopi, Pueblo, etc.)
  • Although the film record of the 1908 expedition seemingly disappeared, the original nitrate was rediscovered in 1982 at a Montana antique store (and I hope some bartering was involved). The film was donated to the Smithsonian Institution’s Human Studies Film Archives, where it has been preserved. Additionally, Dixon’s extensive photography of the expedition has been archived at Indiana University.
  • Joseph Dixon continued to advocate for Indigenous people for the rest of his life, including his efforts to create a National American Indian Memorial, which started construction in 1913 and was never finished. Dixon died in 1926 at age 70, with Rodman Wanamaker passing away three years later at age 65.
  • Though all but forgotten now, Wanamaker’s department store was a major chain in the early 20th century. Although Wanamaker’s no longer exists, their original Philadelphia location was added to the National Register of Historical Places in 1976, and is currently a Macy’s. Fun Fact: Wanamaker’s Philadelphia store was the primary filming location for 1987’s “Mannequin”. Truly, nothing’s gonna stop us now.
  • Because I refuse to end this post with a “Mannequin” reference: the Crow people of Montana are still around and 12,000 strong. If you’re ever visiting Crow Agency in August, be sure to check out their annual Crow Fair!

#654) A Woman Under the Influence (1974)

#654) A Woman Under the Influence (1974)

OR “Rowlands in the Deep”

Directed & Written by John Cassavetes

Class of 1990

The Plot: “A Woman Under the Influence” is several days in the life of Mabel and Nick Longhetti (Gena Rowlands and Peter Falk). Mabel is a housewife with an undiagnosed mental condition, and Nick is a construction worker who loves his wife, but lacks the overall empathy and support she needs to help her deal with her condition. After a particularly troublesome incident during a party Mabel throws for their children, Nick makes the difficult decision to have her institutionalized. That’s about it as far as story goes, with John Cassavetes focusing more on the complexities and unexplored dynamics between these two characters.

Why It Matters: The NFR write-up is lacking in superlatives specific to the movie, giving us instead a rundown of Cassavetes’ influence on independent films. Also they refer to Gena Rowlands’ character as a New York housewife even though the film is clearly set in Los Angeles. Whoops. An essay by Cassavetes expert Ray Carney posits that the character of Mabel is a semi-autobiographical depiction of Cassavetes rather than Rowlands.

But Does It Really?: “A Woman Under the Influence” is perhaps the definitive American independent film: a movie created, produced, and released purely through determination and love of the game. John Cassavetes is a maverick of American film, and I’m glad the NFR inducted him so early into their run. This all being said, did I like the actual film? Well, yes and no. Yes because of the incredible work of Cassavetes, Falk, and especially Rowlands, no because of my own issues with the film’s subject matter and overall length. We’ll get into all of this in more detail as we go, suffice it to say that even though I won’t be ranking “A Woman Under the Influence” on my personal list of favorites, it’s a no-brainer for inclusion among this roster of important American films.

Shout Outs: Not in the film directly, but “Woman Under the Influence” was produced by Cassavetes’ company Faces International, which gets its name from Cassavetes’ “Faces“, a fellow NFR inductee.

Title Track: Now that I think about it, the movie never explains what exactly Mabel is “under the influence” of. We never see her take drugs, and she only drinks in one scene. Like everything else about this movie, there are no easy answers.

Seriously, Oscars?: Despite its small release, “A Woman Under the Influence” managed to be seen by enough people to garner a string of critics awards, and eventually two Oscar nominations. John Cassavetes lost the only Best Director nomination of his career to Francis Ford Coppola for “Godfather Part II“, and Gena Rowlands lost her first Best Actress nod to Ellen Burstyn in “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore”.

Other notes 

  • “A Woman Under the Influence” began as a play written by Cassavetes for his wife Gena Rowlands. Upon reading the play Rowlands quickly realized that the character would be too intense to perform on stage multiple times a week, and the material was adapted into a screenplay. Cassavetes self-financed the project (no studio was interested in a movie about “a crazy, middle-aged dame”), mortgaging his house and hiring a crew of students from the nearby American Film Institute. Peter Falk believed in the script so much he invested $500,000 of his own money into the project (which makes you wonder just how much they were paying him over at “Columbo”). The bulk of the film was shot in 1972, but delays in post-production shelved the film for two years.
  • Another trademark Cassavetes cost-cutting measure, several of the actors are family members. Cassavetes and Rowlands’ children Nick and Xan make appearances, and both of their mothers play the lead characters’ moms (with Lady Rowlands acting alongside her real-life daughter). The Longhetti’s eldest son Tony (great name, by the way) is played by Matthew Cassel, son of longtime Cassavetes collaborator Seymour Cassel.
  • As on the fence as I am about this movie, I gotta admit how great everyone is. Gena Rowlands as always is instantly compelling, and I stuck it out with her Mabel even during the more intense moments. Peter Falk manages to be the “Peter Falk type” we associate him with, but in this case it fits the character of Nick like a glove, and Falk somehow disappears into the character while maintaining his singular persona. Side note about Falk: If he looks directly into the camera, but only with his artificial eye, does that count as a fourth wall break?
  • Maybe it’s just where we were in terms of mental health issues in the 1970s, but it’s never specified what exactly is going on with Mabel. All we get is characters referring to her as “crazy”, with Nick at one point correcting them by saying she’s “not crazy, she’s unusual.” The internet has more or less diagnosed Mabel as being bipolar, but I’m siding with the movie and leaving her undiagnosed.
  • Hats off to Cassavetes, because I have no idea how you can direct a movie like this. Every scene is so natural and organic, I can’t imagine his direction being anything other than “Just be real.” This goes hand in hand with the cinematography by Mitch Breit and Al Ruban, who give the film its cinéma vérité style without drawing attention to itself. The cameras always feel like the proverbial fly-on-the-wall, capturing the action without ever knowing where it will go next. It’s all so natural I suspect that a 1974 audience was either in awe of the aesthetic or bored out of their minds.
  • Admittedly, my issues with the movie are based in my own personal biases. “Woman Under the Influence” is about what happens when your family lacks the emotional tools to support you in times of crisis. Most of Mabel’s family wants to help, but don’t know how to go about it; Nick in particular unable to articulate his frustration while still loving his wife. I found this all very distressing, but also recognize that this is very intentional on Cassavetes’ part. So, well done I guess.
  • My other issue with the movie is its length. I agree with critics of the time who said in essence, “It’s good, but does it have to be 2 1/2 hours?” Of course there are plenty of classic movies that are longer, but 148 minutes is a long time to watch a slice of life movie where “nothing happens”. In its favor, by the end of the film you feel just as emotionally drained as the characters do, something you can still achieve in under two hours but perhaps not with the same impact.
  • This was another movie where I didn’t take a lot of notes. I was simultaneously engaged with and turned off by this movie, ultimately concerned for Mabel and her future. Like “The Deer Hunter“, I’m glad I saw “A Woman Under the Influence”, but it’s going to be a while before I feel up to a rewatch.

Legacy 

  • “A Woman Under the Influence” premiered at the New York Film Festival, and despite its positive reception, John Cassavetes was unable to secure a distributor. Cassavetes self-distributed through his company Faces International, booking the film in art house and college campuses. In the ensuing years, “A Woman Under the Influence” has been reappraised and declared Cassavetes’ definitive film.
  • John Cassavetes directed five more films in his lifetime, including “The Killing of a Chinese Bookie” and “Opening Night”. His final film was 1986’s “Big Trouble” (a modern riff on “Double Indemnity“) before his death in 1989.
  • Gena Rowlands continued acting on film and TV for the next 40 years, earning a second Best Actress Oscar nod for 1980’s “Gloria” (also directed by Cassavetes), and picking up an Emmy nomination seemingly every time she was on TV. In 2015, Rowlands received an Honorary Academy Award as “an original talent” and “an independent film icon”. The award was presented to her by her son Nick Cassavetes.
  • “A Woman Under the Influence” is still considered a seminal piece of ’70s cinema. It is no coincidence that the 2003 documentary about the ’70s indie scene is called “A Decade Under the Influence”.

#653) All That Heaven Allows (1955)

#653) All That Heaven Allows (1955)

OR “Between a Rock and a Hard Place”

Directed by Douglas Sirk

Written by Peg Fenwick. Based on the novel by Edna and Harry Lee.

Class of 1995 

The Plot: Cary Scott is deeply unfulfilled with her life in Stoningham, New England; widowed and spending her time with her college-age children (Gloria Talbott and William Reynolds) and shallow acquaintances at the local country club. One day Cary strikes up a friendship with her arborist Ron Kirby (Rock Hudson), and is immediately drawn to his intelligence and free-living philosophy. The two begin a romantic relationship, but when they become engaged Cary’s friends question their age-gap and view Ron as a gigolo mooching off of Cary’s wealth. Will the stuffy societal norms of the 1950s keep Cary and Ron apart? And what’s with the lighting?

Why It Matters: While the NFR admits that at first glance the film is a “standard weepie”, its “rich visual texture” and “soaring emotional score” turn the subject into “a deeply disturbing, deeply compassionate portrait”. An essay by author John Wills takes a deeper dive into the film’s metaphorical imagery.

But Does It Really?: This was…interesting. I can definitely say I was more intrigued than entertained by “All That Heaven Allows”. Yes, it’s a highly-stylized melodrama, but it has that Douglas Sirk touch to it that keeps it watchable. No other movies look or sound like a Douglas Sirk production, and “All That Heaven Allows” is no exception; from its borderline avant-garde lighting to its incredibly progressive stance on what a woman’s life can or can’t be. Plus, it’s 89 minutes; points as always if you keep your story moving. “All That Heaven Allows” is on the list to represent Sirk’s run of artistic soap operas at 1950s Universal, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Everybody Gets One: Shoutout to Conrad Nagel, seen here as Cary’s would-be suitor Harvey. Nagel was a silent film veteran, and a founding member of both the Academy of Motion Pictures of Arts and Sciences and the Screen Actors Guild.

Wow, That’s Dated: All the usual ’50s suburbia stuff, but at least here Sirk is commenting on its banality, so that helps.

Title Track: “All That Heaven Allows” is the last line of the poem “Love and Life” by John Wilmot. In the poem, all that Heaven allows is the present moment, but Sirk chose the title because it felt ironic within the film’s context: “As far as I’m concerned, Heaven is stingy.”

Seriously, Oscars?: No Oscar love for “All That Heaven Allows”. In fact, no Oscar love for any of Universal’s 1955 releases. Keep in mind that Universal was cranking out mostly B pictures back then. Heck, in 1955 their biggest star was still Francis the Talking Mule.

Other notes 

  • “All That Heaven Allows” got greenlit based on the success of another Sirk film: 1954’s “Magnificent Obsession”. Like “All That Heaven Allows”, “Magnificent Obsession” was based on a novel, starred Wyman as a widow who falls in love with Hudson amidst controversy, featured a supporting turn by Agnes Moorehead, and included a finale involving one of the leads’ near-death experience. “Obsession” was one of the highest grossing films of 1954, and Sirk was given a bigger budget and more creative freedom on “All That Heaven Allows”.
  • If Cary’s neighborhood looks familiar, it’s Colonial Street, the fake street on the Universal backlot. The houses and facades have been used for countless TV shows and movies, most notably “Leave It to Beaver”, “The Munsters”, and “Desperate Housewives”.
  • You know something is up with this movie once you see the stylized lighting in Cary’s house. You don’t see this kind of lighting outside of film noir or a Gene Kelly third act ballet. It’s distracting, but also much more visually engaging than other domestic dramas of the time; very much the mis-en-scene that film critics love pointing out about this movie.
  • I know it’s the point, but everyone at this country club is the worst. Mona’s a back-stabbing gossip, and Howard straight-up assaults Cary. It really says something when the nicest person in your community is Endora.
  • Most of my viewing was me marveling at how progressive this film is. Everything about “All That Heaven Allows” would fit right in with the more laidback character studies of the 1970s with its challenging of social norms and nuanced female lead. And yet here it is in the middle of a Hollywood “product”. A rare sight indeed.
  • I’ve realized I haven’t seen a lot of Jane Wyman’s filmography (and I’ve genuinely forgotten she was in “Lost Weekend“). I don’t have a lot to say about Wyman’s performance here, other than she’s good enough that I cared about Cary’s well-being throughout.
  • Rock Hudson: the ’50s answer to Fabio. Hudson doesn’t have much to do in this film, but he’s the perfect combination of standard ’50s he-man and sensitive lover the part calls for. I was waiting for the neighbors to start gossiping about his apocryphal marriage to Jim Nabors.
  • Continuing my inability to tell how old everyone is in classic movies: Wyman was 38 during filming, Hudson 30. Not so much a May-September romance as a May-April romance. There must not be a lot going on in this town if this is your big controversy.
  • Today in Coda-era profanity censorship: “Here’s to those who wish us well, all the rest can go to Hackensack”.
  • Interestingly enough, when Ron mentions his service in the war, I assumed he meant World War II. Turns out it was Korea.
  • Cary’s kids really got on my nerves. Why are they so upset about having to move if Cary and Ron get married? They’re both in their mid-20s. Find a roommate, you freeloaders!
  • Any movie scores points with me when there are character actor sightings. Among the party guests are Hayden Rorke (aka Dr. Bellows) and Eleanor Audley (aka Maleficent and the Evil Stepmother). Also at the party is – Howard again!? Oh no!
  • Sirk’s lighting design goes a little too far in Kay’s room when Cary consoles her. Do they live next door to a kaleidoscope?
“Good morning, Dr. Meacham.”
  • Hey it’s a Die Hard Not-Christmas movie! I haven’t had one of those in a while.
  • There’s a recurring thread in this movie about Cary buying a television. You never hear TV talked about so openly in the movies, especially in the 1950s when it was still the enemy as far as big movie studios were concerned. Universal had just started producing TV shows, so it seems they knew the writing was on the wall. And sure, getting a TV is all well and good, but wait until Cary sees who’s hosting “General Electric Theater“. She may end up shooting her screen Elvis-style.
  • [Spoilers] What in the hell is that ending? Just when you think things are wrapping up, there’s a last-minute curveball as Ron falls of a cliff and becomes unconscious. Sirk toyed with the idea of Ron dying at the end, but producer Ross Hunter convinced him that the film needed a happy ending. This movie is already dramatic enough, we don’t need a brush with death too. Haven’t these two gone through enough already?

Legacy 

  • “All That Heaven Allows” opened on Christmas Day 1955. Both critics and audiences were dismissive of the film, finding it inferior to “Magnificent Obsession”. The film found a second life in the early 1970s, thanks to Jon Halliday’s book “Sirk on Sirk” and praise from German filmmaker Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Douglas Sirk’s entire filmography was reappraised in the ’70s, with “All That Heaven Allows” coming out from its predecessor’s shadow and receiving acclaim for its own merits.
  • Douglas Sirk made a handful of films with Universal after “All That Heaven Allows”, including “Written on the Wind” (also starring Rock Hudson) and his final film: a remake of “Imitation of Life“.
  • Heir apparent to the Douglas Sirk filmography is Todd Haynes, whose films “Far from Heaven” and “Carol” both play on the “repressed ’50s housewife” themes of “All That Heaven Allows”. Also he’s got a new movie called “May December” which may also tread the same water. What say you, readers of the future?
  • Coincidentally, while I was writing this I learned about an HBO documentary about Rock Hudson subtitled “All That Heaven Allowed” that just premiered. What are the odds?
  • And finally, Ross Hunter would go on to produce such bloated all-star movies as “Airport” and the musical remake of “Lost Horizon”, still considered one of the worst movies ever made. What a delightfully odd filmography.

#652) Westinghouse Works, 1904 (1904)

#652) Westinghouse Works, 1904 (1904)

OR “Steel This Movie”

Directed by G. W. Bitzer

Class of 1998

The Plot: When at the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition (aka the St. Louis World’s Fair), be sure to visit the Westinghouse exhibit, featuring over an hour of footage from inside their main factory in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. Filmed by legendary cinematographer G. W. Bitzer of the American Mutoscope and Biograph Company, “Westinghouse Works, 1904” showcases employees on the factory floor making turbines, generators, and an assortment of other products. Of the 29 Westinghouse films produced, 21 are known to survive.

Why It Matters: The NFR gives a rundown of the films, with the only superlative being a description of the shorts as “highly illustrative”.

But Does It Really?: I guess. “Westinghouse Works, 1904” is an interesting enough watch, with its blatant disregard for these workers’ safety serving as an unintentional suspense builder. Even then, this is a slog of a viewing given that I’m watching a film that was one component of a live presentation (more on that later). A historical pass for “Westinghouse Works”: another figure in the carpet of early filmmaking.

Everybody Gets One: Westinghouse Electric and Manufacturing Company (as it was known then) was founded in 1886 by engineer George Westinghouse, and specialized in making generators, turbines, and motors. The company focused on developing infrastructure for this new thing called electricity, and was the foremost rival of Thomas Edison (even employing Nikola Tesla for a time). Fun fact: George Westinghouse invented the railroad air brake, which can be seen being made in several of the films.

Wow, That’s Dated: Any sort of safe work environment. We won’t get the Bureau of Labor Standards for another 18 years, and then another 49 before that becomes the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA).

Other notes 

  • When presented at the 1904 World’s Fair, “Westinghouse Works” was accompanied by live narration and music, which makes this one of the rare times that a 1904 audience had a better viewing experience than I did. As these films are available online only in total silence, I had to supply my own soundtrack for the first time in a while. My viewing of “Westinghouse” was accompanied by a random Spotify playlist of Elton John, The Beatles, Bowie, etc. plus the occasional yapping from my neighbor’s dog.
  • Most of my notes are about how big the machinery is and how easily everyone there could get injured. I was waiting for someone to be standing in the wrong spot and get an arm ripped off.
  • I really should have looked up what kind of things Westinghouse makes before viewing, because I have no idea what any of this machinery is. It all looks like equipment from Dr. Frankenstein’s lab.
  • I believe that Turbine machine makes Everlasting Gobstoppers.
  • Do you think everyone on camera worked harder because they knew they were being filmed?
  • Wow, the air brake makers have the slowest assembly line ever. I guess George Westinghouse really wanted plenty of TLC when making his babies. Lucy and Ethel would have been just fine if they had worked at Westinghouse.
  • Of the 21 films, “Steam Hammer’ currently has the highest view count on YouTube, and it’s easy to see why: We watch the titular hammer forge – as it is officially described – “a large, glowing block”. Seriously, is that plutonium?
  • Are these the first crane shots in film history? I guess someone had to invent them.
  • Everyone in this movie looks like they’re in the opening credits of “Cheers”.
  • A handful of the “Westinghouse” films feature the roles that women (or “Girls” as they’re called here) could work: mainly winding and taping coils. Based on how these women are dressed, this is either 1904 Westinghouse or present-day See’s Candies.
  • The extended shot of the female employees punching out just feels like Mutoscope’s American remake of “Workers Leaving the Lumière Factory“. Also, several of the woman are smiling and laughing as they leave. Stop that! Everybody knows that nobody smiled or had fun of any kind in the 1900s.
  • When you show an extended shot of a steam whistle going off at a factory there’s only one thing to say: Yabba-Dabba-Doo!
  • Well they definitely saved the best for last. The camera goes outside and takes a train ride around the Westinghouse factory. After an hour of watching static shots of men working, it was great to see actual traveling shots.

Legacy 

  • George Westinghouse resigned from his company following the Bankers’ Panic of 1907. In the ensuing decades, Westinghouse continued its reign as a leading electronic company, becoming a conglomerate in the 1990s when it bought CBS. Shortly thereafter, Westinghouse pivoted to media and sold off its industrial assets. Presently, Westinghouse is part of Paramount Global, and while Westinghouse no longer makes any of the products they built the original company on, the Westinghouse name is still loaned out to various electronic and motor companies.
  • Westinghouse would continue its self-promotion at the World’s Fair with the greatest film on the NFR: 1939’s “The Middleton Family at the New York’s World’s Fair“.

#651) Bread (1918)

#651) Bread (1918)

OR “A Slice of Life”

Directed by Ida May Park

Written by Park and Evelyn Camp

Class of 2020 

The Plot: “Bread” is a unique NFR entry, in that we only have Reels 3 & 4 of a six reel film, so a full plot synopsis involves some guesswork. Based on what we know about the first two reels of “Bread”, the film is about Candace Newby (Mary MacLaren), a young woman who leaves her small town and moves to New York to become a stage actor. She meets theater producer Emil Krause (Louis Morrison), who puts her on his payroll, and playwright Arnold Train (Edward Cecil), who falls in love with her. Reel 3 begins with Krause bringing Candace into his office, locking the door, and making advances. Candace rejects Krause and runs away. Krause retaliates by cutting off her finances, and soon Candace only has enough money for a single loaf of bread. On her way home she loses the bread and…well that’s where Reel 4 ends things. What a cliff hanger!

Why It Matters: The NFR write-up is primarily a shoutout to Ida May Park, whose “accomplished ability” as a director and scenario writer are praised. The survival status of “Bread” is also mentioned.

But Does It Really?: This is the most NFR film the NFR has ever inducted. It’s a silent melodrama directed by a woman that deals with social issues and only survives in part: That’s an NFR bingo! Obviously it’s impossible to judge this film solely on its own merits, but even as an 18 1/2 minute excerpt, “Bread” clearly has the hallmarks of a solid melodrama, and is representative of an era of female filmmaking that soon disappeared. “Bread” is definitely on the “historical significance” side of things, but I have no objection to its NFR induction. Now let’s go find those missing reels!

Everybody Gets One: We don’t know a lot about Ida May Park, other than she was a native Angeleno who started her showbiz career as a stage actor, meeting her husband Joseph de Grasse in the process. The couple were hired by Universal in 1914, with Park writing scenarios for films directed by de Grasse. Park’s first directing job was for 1917’s “The Flashlight”. Park’s pivot to directing was in part based on her successful collaborations with her husband, and in part because of Universal’s then-practice of hiring more women directors (they were the ones that gave Lois Weber her start). In 1920, Park wrote this essay about film directing, in which she refers to filmmaking as “the great cinema octopus”, which is my new favorite description of anything film-related.

Other notes 

  • There is no weirder feeling than coming into the middle of a movie with no frame of reference, especially when your first scene is an attempted rape. I feel like Donny in “Big Lebowski“.
  • A bit of discrepancy: According to the AFI Film Catalog, the lead character is named Candace, but the intertitles call her Helen. What’s going on? I’m going with Candace until I hear otherwise. Also, her last name is Newby? A bit on the nose, eh?
  • We get a scene where another woman (presumably the character of Estelle played by Gladys Fox) berates Candace for rejecting Krause after he supported her financially. First of all, yikes. Second of all, YIKES. This is more psychological manipulation than “Rebecca” and “Gaslight” combined!
  • Estelle, admonishing Candace: “I’m the goat – my chance of being SOMEBODY is smashed-” I assume she means “goat” like a fool and not as the Greatest Of All Time.
  • I am once again reminded that Mary MacLaren kinda looks like Amy Schumer. Last time I mentioned that I wondered what Schumer was up to. Turns out the answer was doing a forgettable job co-hosting the Oscars where Chris Rock got slapped.
  • Thank god we still have the part of the film where the title is explained. Otherwise I would have assumed they meant bread as in money.
  • Candace loses the bread when she bumps into a passerby on the street and drops the bread on the running board of a passing car. And that’s why cars don’t have running boards anymore! I assume that car will be hunted down by Javert for the next three hours.
  • “[The bread] symbolized all the good things in life.” Thank you, movie, we get the symbolism.
  • As far as I can tell, the ending of “Bread” involves Candace being reunited with her bread and accepting Arnold’s marriage proposal. Maybe I saw the most interesting third of this movie after all.

Legacy 

  • Like many of her contemporaries, Ida May Park’s directing days ended in the 1920s; her last two films as director were 1920’s “Bonnie May” and “The Midlanders”. Park continued to write scenarios, and her final writing credit was for 1931’s provocatively titled “Playthings of Hollywood”. Ida May Park died in 1954 at age 74.
  • Of Ida May Park’s 14 films as director, only three are known to survive, all from 1918: “Bread”, “Broadway Love”, and “The Risky Road”. Of the three, “Broadway Love” is the only film that survives in its entirety.
  • I assume “Bread” is Oprah’s favorite movie.