The Horse's Head

#459) A Trip Down Market Street (1906)

OR “A San Francisco Treat”

Directed by Harry Miles

Class of 2010

The Plot: In 1906 San Francisco, independent filmmaker Harry Miles took a camera, placed it in front of a cable car, and hand-cranked the camera during its trip down Market Street, from 8th Street to the Embarcadero Ferry Building. Along the way Miles captures the hustle and bustle of California’s (then) most prosperous city, capturing sights of horse drawn carriages, pedestrians in formal attire (complete with bowler hats), as well as plenty of those new-fangled automobiles. What started out as an experimental film documenting San Francisco suddenly became a sought-after historical artifact when, just four days later, the infamous 1906 earthquake struck.

Why It Matters: The NFR writeup gives a historical rundown, and an essay by historian David Kiehn details how Kiehn successfully determined the film’s production date.

But Does It Really?: Obviously my closeness to the subject matter gives me a bit of a bias, but “A Trip Down Market Street” is an invaluable historical document. The film’s innovative cinematography helps differentiate it from other actuality films of the era. Filming an entire street on a moving vehicle helps preserve so many details of turn-of-the-century living. And the film’s unintentional date with destiny adds an extra layer to the viewing experience. No argument here for the NFR induction of “Market Street”.

Everybody Gets One: The Miles brothers (Harry, Herbert, Earl, and Joe) started off with Biograph Studios before branching out into their own independent film company. They kept an office in New York, but moved their business to San Francisco, making theirs the first film company with offices on both coasts. After successfully filming an entire prize fight between “Battling” Nelson and Jimmy Britt in 1905, the brothers opted to film Market Street on a cable car. This wasn’t too big a stretch for the brothers; this film’s starting point is half a block away from their Market Street studio.

Wow, That’s Dated: As a San Francisco citizen I’ll point out the most important now-outdated aspect: Cars being allowed to drive down Market Street.

Other notes

• For many years, the Library of Congress determined that the film was shot in September 1905, based on the buildings in the background. Something about that date didn’t ring true for film historian David Kiehn, who went about doing his own research on the film. Using newspapers and other artifacts in the San Francisco Library, Kiehn learned that several of the cars’ license plates weren’t registered until January and February of 1906. Puddles spotted on the tracks placed filming in late March or early April (San Francisco had no rain in September 1905). Finally, he found newspaper articles regarding production, and could pinpoint the actual shoot to Saturday, April 14th 1906, a little after 3pm. Kiehn chronicles his journey in his aforementioned essay, as well as this “60 Minutes” piece.
• Also worth noting from Kiehn’s research: while Market Street appears to be bustling with cars, automobiles were still quite a novelty in America. The Miles Brothers hired a few chauffeurs to drive past the camera, circle back, and drive past them again. One car passes the camera six different times during the 12 minute film.
• Because the camera is mounted on the front of a cable car, you can spot several people “hailing” the camera as it comes towards them.
• Wow, everyone is cutting this cable car off. There’s also several close calls between cars, pedestrians, and horses. It helps that cars of the era had a top speed of around 30mph, no one’s getting hurt by these things.
• My favorite detail: A giant sign of the side of one of the buildings advertising “Pianos”. Makes sense, every home had one back then.
• Another prominent sign: M. Blaskower’s Cigar Shop with its “Nathan Hale” five cent Cuban style cigar. “If you have one life to live for this country, smoke ’em if you got ’em!”
• The film ends with the cable car approaching the Ferry Building, then moving on a turntable to head back up Market Street. The final few frames are children waving at the camera, an occurrence that takes place in every era of American filmmaking.

Legacy

• Of course, the film’s legacy was solidified only four days later when San Francisco was destroyed by the 1906 earthquake and fires. Among the many buildings destroyed was the Miles Brothers’ Market Street studio. “A Trip Down Market Street” was loaded onto a train for New York the day before the earthquake hit, and only three prints of the movie are known to exist.
• While the brothers continued their business (their film of a pre-earthquake San Francisco became in-demand), they still never came out of the financial hole the studio’s destruction left them with. Following Harry’s death in 1908, and the company being forced into bankruptcy in 1910, the remaining Miles brothers went their separate ways, working for other small film companies.

Further Viewing: In 2005 (back when this film was believed to be from 1905), filmmaker Melinda Stone set out to recreate this film for its centennial. Even in only 15 years, the Market Street in this updated film differs from its present day iteration. One of the film’s producers/researchers is film curator Liz Keim, who I can say from personal experience is one of the nicest, most insightful people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

#458) The Story of G.I. Joe (1945)

OR “Ernie Pyle, U.S.W.C.”

Directed by William Wellman

Written by Leopold Atlas & Guy Endore & Philip Stevenson. Based on the books “Here Is Your War” and “Brave Men” by Ernie Pyle.

Class of 2009

The Plot: “The Story of G.I. Joe” is the story not of the classic action figure, but rather the popular ’40s term for the average-Joe WWII soldier. Based on a true story, war correspondent Ernie Pyle (Burgess Meredith) tags along with the C Company, 18th Infantry, U.S. Army as they fight in Tunisia and Italy. Led by Lt. Walker (Robert Mitchum), the rookie infantry is tested battle after battle, fighting the elements, their deteriorating mental health, and an ongoing casualty rate. Despite all the hardships, Pyle stays with them, telling their stories to his readers, praising them as the best outfit in all the army.

Why It Matters: The NFR praises the film’s “gritty portrayal of the realities of war”, as well as Burgess Meredith’s “understated realism”. There’s also an essay by AFI writer/AMPAS librarian Amy Dunkleberger.

But Does It Really?: This is a tough one. Obviously, “G.I. Joe” is a well-made film (Director Wellman is no stranger to great war movies), but WWII movies made during the actual war have a tendency to assume the audience knows all the terminology, leaving future viewers in the cold. The Dunkleberger essay makes a compelling case for “G.I. Joe” being in the NFR, if nothing else as a tribute to the real-life Pyle. I want to support “G.I. Joe” on this list, but without a solid legacy or influence 75 years later, it’s a tough sell. “G.I. Joe” is a good movie, but I question its standing among the greats.

Everybody Gets One: After a brief stint in the Naval Reserve, Ernie Pyle sought to become a journalist. Indiana University didn’t have a journalism degree at that time, so Pyle majored in Economics, but took every journalism class they offered. His work editing the school paper led to a job as a columnist for the Scripps-Howard syndicate. After 17 years of well-received human interest write-ups, Pyle became a war correspondent during WWII, always sympathizing with and celebrating “G.I. Joe”.

Wow, That’s Dated: Typical ’40s wartime jargon, plus shoutouts to bandleader Artie Shaw and pin-up girl Carole Landis.

Title Track: “The Story of G.I. Joe” was released in some areas under the slightly different title “Ernie Pyle’s Story of G.I. Joe”. According to Pyle in one of his last columns “I never did like the title, but nobody could think of a better one, and I was too lazy to try.”

Seriously, Oscars?: A critical success but a financial misstep, “The Story of G.I. Joe” received four Oscar nominations, losing to, among others, future NFR entires “The Lost Weekend” and “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn“. Robert Mitchum’s Best Supporting Actor nod was his only nomination in what would be a 53 year acting career.

Other notes 

• Ernie Pyle was initially against his writings being adapted into a movie, but producer Lester Cowan was persistent, wanting to do for the infantry what 1943’s “Air Force” did for the Air Corps. Once they settled on making the film a salute to the average soldier, Pyle agreed.
• “The Story of G.I. Joe” is based on Pyle’s time with the 36th Infantry Division at the Battle of San Pietro, and the 133rd Infantry in the Battle of Monte Cassino. To add to the realism, many of the extras in the film were real life veterans of these battles, en route to more fighting in the South Pacific. Sadly, many of them would be killed in the South Pacific before the film was released.
• It’s so interesting watching a young Burgess Meredith (well…younger: he was 38). Known for his larger-than-life performances in “Rocky” and the “Batman” TV series, Meredith is equally good playing reserved, down-to-earth folk like Ernie Pyle. No big emotional monologues for Meredith, he just quietly observes the proceedings and holds the movie together.
• Also dated: sex-starved soldiers. We get it, there truly is nothing like a dame, but that doesn’t mean you get to be a creepy horndog to the handful of women in this movie.
• Speaking of, Nurse Murphy (who Pyle “gives away” in a makeshift wedding ceremony) is played by Dorothy Coonan, star of “Wild Boys of the Road” and wife of director William Wellman.
• One of the movie’s subplots is Sgt. Warnicki, who keeps trying to find a record player so he can listen to the recording his wife sent of their son talking for the first time. When he does finally find one, the needle is broken. As Pyle might say, “That’s not fair at all. There was time now…“

• Once again, Robert Mitchum’s performance does nothing for me, through no fault of its own. I guess I just don’t have an acquired taste for the man’s work. He mutters a few lines, has a nice heart-to-heart with Pyle, and then [spoilers] is killed off-screen. Like Gary Cooper in “Wings”, I’m baffled as to how this was Mitchum’s breakout role.
• Right before production began, the Normandy Invasion of D-Day occurred and signaled the beginning of the war’s end. While previous war films of the time ramped up the victory propaganda, “G.I. Joe” characteristically ends with a less extravagant, more hopeful prayer for peace.

Legacy 

• “The Story of G.I. Joe” helped propel Robert Mitchum from fresh-faced new talent to established movie star. Mitchum would go on to play more nuanced characters in such films as “The Night of the Hunter“, “Out of the Past“, and “Cape Fear”.

• Unfortunately, Ernie Pyle did not live to see the final film: he was killed in combat while covering the invasion of Okinawa, two months before the film’s premiere. He received tributes from President Eisenhower and former First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, and in the ensuing years has been honored by the U.S. Postal Service, Indiana University, and even The Peanuts.
• In 1963, Donald Levin was trying to come up with a name for his new action figure, and remembered the name “G.I. Joe” from this movie. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle!

Listen to This: During the movie, the soldiers listen to an episode of “Command Performance” hosted by Bob Hope. This was a real wartime radio program produced for the Armed Forces, and a 1942 episode with Hope and Lena Horne made the National Recording Registry in 2005. Listen to it here.

#457) Deliverance (1972)

OR “Paddle Your Own Canoe”

Directed by John Boorman

Written by James Dickey. Based on his novel.

Class of 2008

The Plot: Businessmen and acquaintances Ed, Lewis, Bobby and Drew (Jon Voight, Burt Reynolds, Ned Beatty, and Ronny Cox) take a long weekend getaway for some camping and canoeing down Georgia’s Cahulawassee River, soon to be flooded by a newly-built dam. What starts out as a relaxing vacation in the great outdoors slowly turns into a wide-awake nightmare. These “city folk” experience everything from a near-death experience on the rapids to a traumatizing encounter with some local hillbillies (Bill McKinney & Herbert “Cowboy” Coward). It’s a scary, thrilling survival film, complete with iconic banjo music!

Why It Matters: Wow, someone really likes “Deliverance” over at the NFR. Their write-up calls the film a “gripping Appalachian ‘Heart of Darkness'”, praises the “visual flair” of Boorman and cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond, and calls the Mountain Men “two of the more memorable villains in film history”.

But Does It Really?: “Deliverance” is one of those movies that isn’t perfect, but does succeed at what it’s trying to be. Boorman et al create a backwoods atmosphere that is both idyllic and terrifying, and effectively set the scene for a realistic tale of flawed men trying to brave the elements. The film’s iconic first half makes the second half a bit of a letdown through no fault of its own, but overall “Deliverance” is a strong movie with an equally strong legacy. Though I do question how it took 20 years for “Deliverance” to make the National Film Registry.

Everybody Gets One: James Dickey had been an English instructor and a copy writer for Coca-Cola before becoming a published poet in the 1960s. “Deliverance” (his first novel) was published in 1970, and its film rights were immediately snatched up by Warner Bros. Despite some initial friction with director John Boorman over script re-writes, Dickey got along well with Boorman, who cast Dickey as the Sheriff at the end of the movie.

Seriously, Oscars?: One of the biggest hits of 1972, “Deliverance” received three nominations: Best Picture, Director, and Editing. Unfortunately, 1972 was also the year of “The Godfather” and “Cabaret“, and “Deliverance” went home empty handed. The film did, however, win an unexpected major showbiz award: Steve Mandell & Eric Weissberg took home the 1974 Grammy for Best Country Instrumental Performance for their rendition of “Dueling Banjos”.

Other notes 

• Like so many great movies, we got our main cast because every other actor in Hollywood passed. Everyone from Steve McQueen to Henry Fonda to Marlon Brando were considered for or offered the roles of Ed and Lewis. When Boorman’s “Point Blank” lead Lee Marvin passed, the 48-year-old actor suggested that Boorman cast younger leads that would be up to the movie’s demanding physical scenes. All four eventual leads were in their early to mid-30s during production.
• This is Ned Beatty’s film debut! Ironically, Beatty was the only main cast member who had ever paddled a canoe before, even though his character is supposed to be the least experienced.
• I didn’t realize “Dueling Banjos” is right at the beginning. It’s pretty much the only moment of levity in an otherwise tense film. Ronny Cox may have been this movie’s fourth Ghostbuster, but he and his guitar get the film’s most iconic moment.

• Why is Jon Voight wearing Burt Reynolds’ mustache? Did Reynolds lose a bet?
• Speaking of, it’s so interesting seeing Burt Reynolds in a movie where he’s playing a character, rather than a variation of his screen persona. His Lewis speaks with a Southern accent, and is a bit more militant than, say, The Bandit. Reynolds does, however, sneak in his trademark high-pitched laugh at one point.
• Shoutout to cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond. Like he did for the Northwest in “McCabe & Mrs. Miller“, Zsigmond does a marvelous job capturing the deceptive peacefulness of the Georgia backwoods. Take away the film’s perpetually foreboding atmosphere and these shots would be picturesque. There’s also some brilliant camera compositions going on during the dialogue scenes, leading to some wonderful visual storytelling. How the Oscars continued to ignore Zsigmond’s work is appalling.
• The canoeing scenes may be my favorite in the movie; the last bit of fun before it all goes to hell. On a related note: due to the film’s low budget, the actors did their own stunts, and were uninsured.

• Full Disclosure: I have repeatedly held off viewing “Deliverance” for the blog because of the “squeal like a pig” scene. Having now seen it, the sequence earns its reputation as one of the most unforgettably disturbing moments in this or any film. It’s like a nightmare that you can’t shake after you wake up. The only real downside is that nothing in the rest of the movie can top that for sheer shock value or stake-raising. Like the car chase in “The French Connection“, this scene causes “Deliverance” to peak too soon.

• This movie made me realize that I haven’t seen too many of Jon Voight’s performances (the only one that comes to mind is “Seinfeld“). He is definitely an actor who works from the inside out; each thought in Ed’s mind comes across on Voight’s face. It’s a subtly brilliant performance.
• The movie’s other drawback for me is that it falters once the group is split up. Turns out I enjoyed watching these four character bond more than I enjoyed Ed’s personal journey. There’s nothing bad about the film’s second hour, it just becomes a different, less exciting movie.

• For years, the internet has told me that the deputy in the hospital (whom I’ve dubbed “Officer Cheekbones”) is a pre-fame Ed O’Neill. Turns out it’s a similar looking actor named Lewis Crone in his only film appearance. O’Neill was still a young athlete in 1972 and wouldn’t begin his acting career for another few years.

Legacy 

• “Deliverance” was the movie that catapulted Burt Reynolds from TV star to movie star. Reynolds spent the rest of the ’70s as a bona-fide A-lister, complete with trademark mustache and a relationship with Dinah Shore!

• The film’s success not only made Georgia and the Chattooga River (filling in for the movie’s fictitious Cahulawassee) popular tourist spots, it also inspired then-Governor Jimmy Carter to start a state film commission. Today, Georgia is the most popular U.S. state outside of California for film production. Tyler Perry wouldn’t build his studio just anywhere.

• “Squeal like a pig” and “You got a real purdy mouth” have become cultural shorthand for backwoods hillbillies. I bet that wouldn’t be the case if everyone remembered the context those lines were spoken in.
• Also a cultural hillbilly shorthand: “Dueling Banjos”, easily one of the most popular instrumentals in film history. One only needs to hum the first five notes for people to get the reference.

Every once in a while my Google alert for “National Film Registry” sends me a gem that’s worth sharing with all of you. Over the years, many of the NFR’s more popular entries got on the list thanks to extensive fan campaigning, and it looks like we might be adding one or two more of these to the list.

In 2007, BacktotheFuture.com encouraged fans to nominate “Back to the Future” for National Film Registry consideration, and lo and behold, it worked! Now, 13 years later (and 5 years after the film’s “future”), the website is at it again with a petition to induct Parts II & III into the NFR. Also supporting this is none other than “Back to the Future” producer/co-writer Bob Gale, who suggested the campaign after some BTTF fans noticed that the version of “Part II” on Netflix was a slightly edited version made for a foreign release. (This cut eliminates Michael J. Fox’s outstanding line reading of “Oh La La? OH LA LA!?“). Now that Netflix is streaming the uncut version, Gale suggested that the BTTF sequels might have earned a place as culturally significant films, ending a letter to fans with “Preserve the Trilogy!”

I’ve already submitted my 50 films for 2020 consideration (full list coming soon), so all I can do is mull over the film’s chances. Pop culture-wise, “Part II” definitely has more going for it than “Part III”. Many have tried emulating what Part II predicted 2015 would look like (Hoverboards! Flying Cars! ’80s Nostalgia!) When October 21^st, 2015 finally arrived, the day was declared “Back to the Future Day” by the White House (back when that meant something!). As for “Part III”…that’s a tougher sell. It’s a great movie and a wonderful conclusion to the trilogy, but is it referenced as often as, say, other 1990 films like “Goodfellas“? Plus, while there are a few sequels on the list, no “threequel” has ever made the National Film Registry. If that distinction is going to any movie, it would probably go to “Return of the Jedi” first [UPDATE: Called it].

As much as I support this campaign, I think the BTTF fan community has a bit of an uphill battle if they want the sequels on the NFR. That being said, I will always endorse movie buffs to submit their favorite movies for NFR consideration every year. Here’s the nomination form! You don’t have to stop at the BTTF sequels either, you can nominate 48 more movies too! I always recommend consulting with this list of well-known movies missing from the Registry first. Good luck, Future Fans. As Doc Brown never actually said, “If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.”

…To Be Continued…

#456) Our Day (1938)

OR “My Old Kentucky Home”

Directed & Written by Wallace Kelly

Class of 2007

The Plot: Amateur filmmaker Wallace Kelly chronicles a day in the life for him and his family in their hometown of Lebanon, Kentucky. After waking up and having breakfast, Wallace, his wife Mabel, and brother Oliver go to work, while mother Mattie and dog Lady Luck tend to the garden. Upon returning home, the family entertains themselves with croquet and Crokinole. Seemingly dull stuff, but Wallace Kelly has a knack for editing and staging that makes his home movies feel like a professional short film.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls it an “exquisitely crafted amateur film”, though most of its superlatives are lifted from the accompanying essay by film archivist Margaret Compton (or did she lift it from them?).

But Does It Really?: The NFR sure loves putting home movies on this list. “Our Day” is definitely a notch above your average home movie, with its fine balance of cinema verite and polished set-ups, but its induction as a significant film is a bit puzzling. Ultimately, “Our Day” makes the cut for representing Wallace Kelly, an amateur filmmaker far removed from Hollywood, and for its depiction of average Kentuckians free of any hillbilly-esque stereotypes. The Compton essay makes enough of an argument for me to give “Our Day” a very slight pass. You win this round, NFR.

Everybody Gets One: Wallace Kelly was born and raised in Lebanon, Kentucky (his ancestors founded the town!). A skilled artist, Kelly moved to New York as an adult to pursue an illustrator career.  It was during his time in New York that Wallace first became interested in moviemaking, saving up for a year to buy his first film camera. Shortly thereafter, Kelly returned home following the death of his father to help run the family business (Dad was the editor of “The Lebanon Enterprise”). Kelly and his fiancée Mabel settled down in Lebanon, eventually studying portrait photography and opening the studio featured in “Our Day”.

Wow, That’s Dated: Mostly radio as a primary source of media entertainment, and professional cameras the size of a mini-fridge.

Other notes 

• Though not shown in the film, brother Oliver was the editor of “The Lebanon Enterprise”, taking over for their late father.
• Lady Luck Kelly is giving me flashes of Asta from “The Thin Man“.
• I just want to point out that the adults in this movie are in their late 20’s and appear to still be living with their mom/mother-in-law. Typically the people in this living situation would not want any of their lives to be documented.
• Hand-written intertitles: you just don’t see that kind of handcrafted charm in other movies.
• Ooh, instant coffee. I didn’t realize this was One Day in the life of the Rockefeller’s.
• Sure that dog acts all sweet and innocent, but then we get to the garden and we watch Lady Luck take down a cat. It’s not at a “The Hunters” level of animal cruelty, but it’s more intense than I would have anticipated from this film.
• I had never heard of the game Crokinole until this movie; I guess it’s a tabletop version of bocce ball? It looks complicated, but the Kellys seem to be having fun.
• This movie ends with two pastimes that really don’t come across in a silent film: listening to the radio and playing the piano. That being said, Oliver appears to be quite an accomplished player.

Legacy 

• Wallace Kelly continued to make well-crafted home movies until his death in 1988. Despite his extensive filmography, Kelly never screened them outside of family or neighborhood gatherings.
• “Our Day” received its first public screening in 2007. In attendance was NYU Professor Dan Streible, a National Film Preservation Board member who successfully lobbied to get “Our Day” on the NFR list later that year.
• Wallace Kelly’s filmography has been made available online courtesy of his daughter, Martha Kelly.