Silence was Golden in Cinema from The Telegraph
Ye gods, people! There’s a lot of silent cinema interest and nostalgia floating around these days, thanks to Hugo and The Artists. Some of I agree with, some of it is silly, some of it is blatant coat-tail riding. But this piece from The Telegraph, “Too late, we realise that silence was golden in the cinema,” is the piece de resistance of all the talk. It is: 1. True and well said, 2. Quite beautiful in its implications, and 3. A total heart-breaker. Matthew Sweet gets my nomination for silent-cinema writer of the year.
Cinema has fallen in love again – with itself. The affair began in the spring at Cannes, when the science-fiction spectacular that opened the festival inspired a collective gasp of wonder. Up on the screen, a gaggle of explorers blasted off to an alien world of incomparable strangeness and beauty. Faces flickered in the stars. Rose-tinted rings glowed around Saturn. Bizarre crustaceoid monsters loomed. But the director, George Méliès, was not present to hear the cheers. He’s been dead since 1938. A Trip to the Moon was made in 1902. A silent movie, hand-painted, frame by frame, in the Paris of Dreyfus and Degas – a place quite as alien as anything it conjures on the screen. Read the rest here.