The Lumiere Brothers: Crash Course Film History #3 Video Lecture | Know more about Hollywood Film Industry: History, Production, and Criticism - Art & Craft

Hi. I'm the internet's Craig. This is Crash Course Film History.
Based on what you’ve probably heard, or
read, or… what I told you last time, you’re
probably under the impression that the development
of modern film technology is all
thanks to famous inventor Thomas Edison,
and his less-than-famous employee, William Dickson.
You're wrong. I can't believe how wrong you are.
Together, these guys developed two of the
first commercially-viable film technologies:
the kinetograph – basically a camera – and
the kinetoscope – a single-viewer exhibition
device that you use to watch kinetograph films.
But guess what?
As was often the case with Edison, a lot of
the credit that’s given to him also belongs to a great many other people.
...not me.
While Edison and Dickson were setting out
to make moving pictures in New Jersey, lots
of other inventors were tinkering with film
technology across the world.
In Lyon, France, a pair of brothers saw the
kinetograph and kinetoscope – and said,
“We can do better than that!”
And they did.
Within two years, they invented a lightweight,
all-in-one motion picture device that made
movies and exhibited them.
They figured out a way to use the camera mechanism
to play back the developed roll of film, projecting
bright light through it to show images.
Films could be projected on an entire wall
or screen, letting audiences of people experience films, together... It'll never work.
By sheer coincidence – or maybe fate – their
surname means “light.”
Say hello to the Lumière Brothers and the
first projected films.
[Intro Music Plays]
Auguste and Louis Lumière were born in the 1860s in eastern France.
In 1870, their father moved the family to
Lyon and opened a small factory that made
photographic plates.
The family business, like all my businesses, teetered on the edge of bankruptcy, until the brothers took over.
They devised machines to help automate the
plant, and invented a new and improved photo plate.
By the time they started experimenting with
film technology, the Lumière Brothers had
lots of experience in business, engineering,
manufacturing, and photography.
They were intrigued by Edison’s motion picture
devices, but quickly saw the flaws: the camera
was hard to move, and only one person could
watch a film at a time.
So they went back to the basics, and made
a better camera.
Remember the intermittent stop-and-go mechanism
– how motion picture cameras need to stop
the film long enough to expose one frame to
light, before moving the roll to the next frame?
Well, the Lumière Brothers developed a device
around the stop-and-go mechanisms used in
sewing machines.
They weren’t the only ones tinkering with
this engineering problem, though.
Inventors were working independently all over
Europe and the United States, putting the
pieces together that will one day become cinema.
By 1897, the German optician-turned-film pioneer
Oskar Messter perfected his
design for the stop-and-go mechanism, called
the Maltese Cross – named after the medal
with the same shape.
It’s also called the Geneva Drive, because
it was first invented in Geneva, Switzerland
for use in mechanical watches.
Messter’s device has really stood the test
of time: we still use a version of it in most
projectors today.
But, back to the Lumières and their motion
picture camera. Transition PUNCH!
Their whole contraption was a compact, portable
box.
It was light enough for one person to carry.
The camera was operated by a hand crank, so
it didn’t rely on an electric power source.
It used the same 35 millimeter film as Edison’s
kinetograph, but it could also develop the
film that it shot – no more sending film
off to a lab and waiting for the mail.
...I hate waiting for the mail.
But, that's not all, once the film
had been developed, the Lumière device could
be reconfigured into a projection machine.
So many things in one. It's so... aw it's just good.
They could run the developed film back through
the intermittent stop-and-go mechanism, and,
with a bright light source, the images would
project onto a wall or a screen.
This device could do it all.
You could carry it with you out into the world,
capture footage, develop the film, and then
project it, any time, anywhere, any way you
wanted.
Don't do it vertical though... commentors hate that.
Compared to the kinetograph and kinetoscope,
it was kind of like the technological leap
from an old school flip phone to a smartphone.
The Lumière Brothers wanted to call their
invention the “cinématographe,” which means
“writing with movement.”
Like Edison, the Lumière Brothers were savvy
businessmen, and secured international patents
on all their technology.
Doing Edison one better, they saw a lot of
potential in having large, public film screenings.
Before the public unveiling of their cinématographe,
they held a series of private parties where
they projected films for groups of distinguished
guests, stoking interest and excitement.
And then in Paris, on December 28th, 1895,
at the Salon Indien in the basement of the
Grand Café, Auguste and Louis Lumière screened
a series of ten short films and changed the
world forever.
Now, I should mention that this wasn’t technically
the first public screening of a motion picture.
That honor, as far as we know, goes to Woodville
Latham, an American chemist and kinetoscope
owner, who projected a film of a boxing match
in New York in May, 1895.
What set the Lumière Brothers apart was that
they played up the intrigue of their device
and gained publicity, plus their superior
image quality and the sheer number of films
they presented.
This is the movie business, after all, and
hype almost always wins.
So the credit for first successful public
screening typically goes to Auguste and Louis Lumière.
Sorry, Latham. Better luck next time. Maybe go back to chemistry.
Among the films the Lumière Brothers screened
that night was “The Train Arrives at La Ciotat Station.”
In the film, a train – you guessed it – arrives
at a station. Kinda spoiled it with the title.
In a single, uninterrupted shot, it comes
toward the camera, stops, and the passengers disembark.
Legend has it that when the first audience
saw this movie projected on the wall, it was
so unfamiliar and realistic that they ran
screaming from the theater, fearing for their lives.
In recent years, historians have thrown cold
water on this story for a couple reasons.
First, seeing images projected onto walls
wouldn’t have been a new experience for
a lot of Parisians.
Some version of the magic lantern projection
device had been used for education and entertainment
since the 17th century, employing a light
source and a lens to project images or paintings
from glass plates up onto a wall.
Not to mention, most of the Lumière audience
would probably have been aware of kinetoscope films.
So chances are no one actually thought a
train was about to drive through the wall
and run them all down.
More likely, the audience might have shrieked
in delight at the size and clarity of the
images projected, and at the sheer magic of
seeing these pictures come to life.
Remember, film presents us with the illusion
of reality.
And like any good magic trick or optical illusion,
part of the thrill is knowing that what you’re
seeing isn’t real, but not being able to
tell how the magician pulled it off.
The story of the screaming audience in the
Grand Café also reveals the power film has
to create a communal experience.
While the technical wizardry of their cinématographe
was groundbreaking, the unique group psychology
of movie-going may have been the Lumières’
greatest contribution to film history.
When you’re in an audience watching a film,
you’re having a specific, personal experience,
but you’re also part of a pop-up community.
... and sometimes that community has a has a bunch of kids who won't be quiet and you're trying to watch Batman vs. Superman!
Think back to the last hysterical comedy you
saw in a movie theater, and then tried to
watch again by yourself at home.
It’s not the same, is it?
Film is this unique artistic medium that can
take on different meanings depending when,
where, and with whom you’re watching it.
Now, the Lumière Brothers’ films all shared
a few characteristics.
They were silent, black-and-white, and uninterrupted
shots that lasted less than a minute – much
like the films out of Edison’s Black Maria.
But rather than capturing stage performers
and skits, the Lumière films were mini-documentaries,
known as “actualités.”
They focused on slices of everyday life: two
babies fighting over lunch, a group of workers
leaving a factory at the end of the day, and,
of course, trains arriving at stations.
These films were financially successful right
out of the gate.
The Lumière Brothers’ first screening brought
in 35 francs, at 1 franc per person.
And within a month, they were making 7,000
francs per week.
that's... *counting* 7,000 people!
Meanwhile, other inventors were making cinématographe-like devices with cool names like the Bioskop
and the Theatrograph.
Some were directly inspired by the Lumière
Brothers, while others were independent.
Thomas Edison saw the financial success the
Lumière Brothers were having and wanted a
very big piece of that action – abandoning
the kinetoscope to jump into theatrical projection.
Edison and other inventors also began experimenting
with longer films. BORING!
But there was a big problem: these longer
film strips kept tearing inside the projector.
Enter Woodville Latham.
Remember him?
The guy who really held the first public
projection of a movie?
He held the patent for the Latham Loop, a
different way to feed film into a projector,
which involved a pair of small, loose loops
of film – one above and one below the projector’s
lens – held in place with extra sprockets.
This helped protect the film from vibrations
and tension, which could lead to damage.
In 1895, another pair of early film pioneers,
C. Francis Jenkins and Thomas Armat, used
the Latham Loop in a projector of their own
design and called it the Vitascope.
Edison saw this device, bought it outright,
and released it as the “Edison Vitascope,”
giving the original inventors almost no credit…
‘cause that’s how Thomas Edison rolled.
Throughout all this experimentation, most
people thought of films as a fad that would
burn brightly for a few years, and then disappear
– like arsenic as medicine, séances, or
Victorian “tear catchers.”
Even the Lumière Brothers got out of the
movie business in 1905, because they didn’t
see a future for film. Good idea!
And it’s true, 50-second Vaudeville performances
and actualités will only entertain audiences
for so long.
But film was growing into something bigger
– a method of mass communication that was
starting to make itself indispensable.
As time went on, filmmakers would take cinématographes
to far-flung places, capturing movies of the
Amazon Basin, the pyramids at Giza, and the
ruins of Ancient Rome.
Suddenly, you could walk into a theater in
Peoria, Illinois and see Sherpas climbing
the Himalayas. ... Without drugs!
In some ways, these kinds of films knit the
world closer together, showing people sights
they’d never experience in real life.
You can even compare film history to the early
days of YouTube.
Sure, we started with Jawed at the zoo, and
cat videos, and kids on dental anesthesia.
But that was just scratching the surface of
a medium that has let us create so many weird,
wonderful, and important things, and has changed
the way we see ourselves and the world around us.
Today, we introduced you to the Lumière Brothers
and their cinématographe, the all-in-one
camera, film developing lab, and projector.
We learned about the first big public film
screenings, and how people were beginning
to have collective movie-going experiences,
as well as very personal ones.
We discussed actualités, the snapshots of
everyday life, and how some filmmakers were
beginning to push the envelope, exploring
the world and making longer movies.
And next time, we’ll talk about the very
first films to tell stories, using editing
and special effects to manipulate reality
in exciting new ways.
Crash Course Film History is produced in association
with PBS Digital Studios.
You can head over to their channel to check
out a playlist of their latest amazing shows,
like PBS Infinite Series, The Art Assignment,
and Brain Craft.
This episode of Crash Course was filmed in
the Doctor Cheryl C. Kinney Crash Course Studio
with the help of these nice actualites and our
amazing graphics team, is Thought Cafe.