Divided into four distinct chapters, “Film, the Living Record of Our Memory” (“Living Record”) delves into an overlooked and largely unknown area of movie history about which even many who consider themselves industry experts will discover they are woefully uniformed.
Sold for Scrap
Then, there are “talkie” productions released from the late 1920s through the late 1940s that were purposefully sold off by various studios and melted down for their silver content. It was the mindset at the time that once a movie completed a theatrical run, it had exhausted its ability to generate revenue, and this “recycling” was just a way to wring out a few more bucks.
It didn’t help matters that all of these movies were made from nitrate stock, a volatile and highly flammable substance that was discontinued in 1950.
Easily, the most disheartening portion of this opening salvo began in the 1940s when the Nazis, not content with conquering most of Eastern Europe, confiscated the artworks of these countries. When it became clear that they were going to lose the war, the Nazis began destroying the thousands of films in their possession. If not for the intervention of the Russians, they would have succeeded in full.
Revealing Home Movies
Next, Toharia throws us a hard curveball by including a truncated and illuminating history of amateur or “home” movies and how they figure into the title of this film. In addition to things that those of a certain age associate with home movies (vacations at the beach, birthday celebrations), Toharia includes clips of those shot in post-Kristallnacht Vienna and a 1938 film of Depression-era field workers that are highly reminiscent of what would be seen in “The Grapes of Wrath” two years later.Arguably, the most visceral portion of the entire production are the home movies of Japanese Americans getting off of overstuffed train cars and being led to internment camps. In America. It’s not a good look to be sure. But as it is often said, those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it.
Talking Back to the Screen
In what is the most unique and lighthearted but revealing passage, Toharia profiles the “Mostly Lost” film festival. Held annually since 2007 at a branch of the Library of Congress in Culpeper, Virginia, it includes 150 invited scholars and movie buffs who are shown portions of recovered silent films and are called on to audibly identify clues contained within the mysterious frames. It’s the only time that talking during a movie is encouraged.
Fittingly, the final 30 minutes concentrates on the global community of film restorers. Selfless, dedicated, and eminently patient, these professionals are charged with taking decimated, often unwatchable bits and pieces of celluloid and bringing them back to life, or as close to life as possible.
Because of their limited time and funds, they also have the arduous, unenviable task of choosing what to save and what must be left to wither away.
The most surprising aspect of the restoration segment is what’s in store for the future of filmmaking in general and the manner in which it will be shot and eventually preserved. To make a comparison without giving too much away, it lends credence to people who prefer the sound of analog vinyl records over digital CDs.
Needless to say, “Living Record” is absolutely essential viewing for movie fans, scholars, students, historians, and anyone interested in how important it is to take care of the past.
