As I write this, I wish I could say I was hopping on a plane to Rochester, New York for The Nitrate Picture Show at George Eastman House—but my schedule wouldn’t allow it. This inaugural three-day festival is a unique celebration of 35mm nitrate prints, which are highly
combustible and subject to decomposition. Thousands of films have been lost due
to fire, the ravages of time, and carelessness…yet thousands survive, some more
than one hundred years old. I learned this years ago when I visited the Library
of Congress’ storage vaults at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton,
Ohio—since relocated to Culpepper, Virginia—and held the camera negative of
Thomas Edison’s The Great Train Robbery
in my hands. Although it was made in 1903, it remained in pristine condition,
while many more recent titles had crumbled to dust.
The attendant
problem is that, because of fire safety regulations, very few theaters or
museums can still show these prints (Remember the projection booth fire in Cinema Paradiso? That wasn’t the product
of a writer’s imagination.)
Fortunately,
the 500-seat Dryden Theatre at George Eastman House is one exception. “At a
time when the future of film is confronted with the reality of digital as a
dominant form of visual expression, there is an emerging need to celebrate the
achievements of cinema as a photochemical medium,” said Paolo Cherchi Usai, Eastman
House’s Senior Curator of Moving Image. “There is an inherent beauty—a true
‘aura’—in moving images made on nitrate stock.”
So what’s the
big deal about watching a nitrate print as opposed to one reprinted on safety film?
If the picture was made in Technicolor during the 1930s and ’40s, nothing can
compare to an original print made in the dye-transfer process. It’s best
described as eye-popping; a safety print may look great, but not quite as vivid.
That’s one reason the opening night attraction in Rochester is A Star is Born (1937) with the
director’s son, William Wellman, Jr., in person.
Black &
white films look just as stunning. I remember the first time I became aware of nitrate:
in the early 1970s, the legendary Henri Langlois brought some treasures from
the Cinémathèque Française to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.
When I saw The Big Trail (1930) I
couldn’t get over the razor-sharpness of the images or the “true” black in that
black & white print. I’d never seen anything like it before. (One can only
imagine what such a print would look like projected on an old-fashioned reflective
silver screen.)
In any case, I
envy my many friends and colleagues who will revel in the screening of rare and
one-of-a-kind prints this weekend and get to meet film historians Kevin
Brownlow, David Bordwell and Roger Smither. I’m sure the Eastman House’s key
curators and preservationists will be on hand, as well. Bravo to all of them
for putting on this ambitious show. I hope it’s successful enough to warrant a
second gathering, and that I’ll be able to attend.
If you still want to get in on the fun,
check for ticket availability HERE.
