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| Typical Nickelodeon of Early Motion Picture Days, 'Crystal Hall,' 14th Street, New York City, at Night. Taken in 1909 by H. Lyman Broening, A.S.C. | |
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Although I did not realize it at the time, my railroad ambitions were slowly but surely being displaced when, in the course of my youthful fancy, penny arcades, slot machines and phonographs began to claim my attention. But the last named mechanisms did not monopolize my interest permanently but proved to be only transitional hobbles which bridged the gap between the locomotive and the "Mutascope" which next fascinated me. The "Mutascope" was a slot machine affair which contained a series of "still pictures" which, when "unravelled" gave the effect of crude motion pictures.
Transitions
I speak of the "Mutascope" as being epochal to me inasmuch as it marks my first interest in any type of motion picture and whetted my appetite for the attractions which were being offered by the nickelodeon which was just coming into its own. Once I had been led to the lure of the nickelodeon, it held full sway over my imaginative powers and it was not long before I abruptly lost practically all interest in the "Mutascope" and kindred machines which I came to look upon as being distinctly ordinary when compared to the pictures which were really screened and which really moved.
Ways of Earning Nickel
So motion pictures, besides moving on the screen in the nickelodeon, became a power of motivation in my life- that is, they were the motive for me to earn a nickel whenever the slightest opportunity presented itself, whether it was by running errands or whether it was by helping an old lady, who had too many bundles to carry home from a shopping tour.
I speak of the nickelodeon as if it were a matter of fact, and such it is, I believe, within the memory of all those who can recall the days contemporary with the pioneer period of pictures. The nickelodeon was usually located on the street corner where it had been transformed by its proprietor- in most instances, a former butcher or delicatessen keeper perhaps- into a palace of amusement for those who enjoyed its pleasures and a novelty for those who deigned to enter its portals in the spirit of the investigator or explorer.
Nickelodeon "Lobby"
The lobby of the average downtown picture theatre in the larger cities today could well hold the entire confines of the nickelodeon of yesteryear. But that does not mean that the nickelodeon did not have its "lobby" or front," as it was better designated then. Walls, ceilings and all of the front were "finished" in stamped tin which was white enamelled. The color scheme, which was not atmospherically perfect as that of some of the modern lobbies, was provided by a profusion of lithographic posters which had no connection whatever with the picture that was being exhibited inside. They had, instead, been borrowed from the billposter of some legitimate melodrama. The posters were often of the three-sheet size but were cut down in order to make them fit to the proportions of a one sheet. Across the top of such nondescript color perpetrations was usually pasted a strip of plain white or Manila paper upon which the name of the attractions had been daubed in crude letters.
"Cashier" Had Color
We must not for a minute forget, however, one of the most important factors in the color scheme of the lobby and that was the many-dutied young lady, invariably a blonde, whose chief duty was to sell tickets. Of course the peroxide hair- and they used peroxide profusely in those days- was not the only color note in the young lady's make-up.
The young lady's activities were not confined to ticket selling but it was a part of her duties to rewind all of the nickelodeon's film that the operator handed down to her through a very small trap door between the ceiling of her booth and the projection room which was located immediately ever her head.
When Jazz Was Ragtime
Besides the flare of the gaudy melodramatic posters which had been first used to advertise "The Way of the Transgressors," or "Billy the Kid" on the stage, the nickelodeon lobby's attractions. were further enhanced by a phonograph of the old cylinder type which ground off such favorite strains as "Won't You Come Over to My House," "Over to Long Island City," "Pony Boy," etc. The care and the winding of the phonograph were trusted variously to the cashier, the proprietor and the projectionist.
"Difficult" Examination
Now let as visit the operator, as the projectionist was then called. The fire underwriters had just adopted a law that the operator must pass an examination in order to handle a projector. He had to be able to detect a "ground" in his "lamp house," hook up a rheostat, tell the "polarity" or the difference between "positive" or "negative." Having passed the foregoing strenuous examination he was given a license.
Fire Prevention Cares
The projectors in those days were either Edison wooden base exhibition models or Powers cameragraphs which two types of machines were the most popular. The latter had been lately equipped with a fire shutter which was designed to prevent the arc from hitting directly on the film and thus causing a fire. It was of the spring type and undue care had to be exercised by the operator not to press the crank of the projector before starting, as the shutter had a tendency to jump up and expose the film to the arc.
Film Tickled Audience's Ears
Magazines about this time had just become standard equipment, eliminating the boxes formerly used to keep the film from landing in the audience when it filled up the box and "ran out" over the sides.
All for $15 a Week
An operator's salary was $15.00 a week. His duties, besides those already touched upon, were to go down to the exchange each morning, select a program of five reels for that day, and, in addition, to letter the captions which were pasted above the lithographs in the lobby. The show usually started at 2 p.m. and went through until 11 p.m. If the owner did not act as operator at supper time, the operator cranked with one hand and ate his sandwich with the other, meanwhile feeding the arc with his teeth. One manager, whom I remember in particular, would produce a couple of African golf balls after the last show on Saturday and allow the employes to lose their loose change- and many times more than that- in the proceedings which followed. And so it went.
Most of my time in a nickelodeon was spent at the foot of the operator's "coop," as the projection booth was called, admiring the operator's wisdom, knowledge and greatness. The crank of the projector charmed me as the Hindoo charms the snake.
How Ladies Make Future Cinematographers
Being a shrewd business man, the operator at the particular nickelodeon, where I gleaned my knowledge, realized a possibility of utilizing my ambitions to his advantage and proceeded, after some acquaintance, to allow me to rewind the reels as he lowered them through the trap in the floor. But the operator, being human as we all have been since Adam and Eve, slowly capitulated to the admirations of the fair sex and lost no opportunity to converse with one of his many admirers. On such occasions he would conscript me into service, so that turning the projector's crank, thanks to the lures of the opposite sex on some one else, soon became natural to me.
It did not take me long to learn to turn at the correct speed. You can imagine how proud I was when, after a time, the operator permitted me to run the song slides. I made the common mistake of turning one of the slides up-side-down in the middle of "Pony Boy," but I was not allowed to remain ignorant of my mistake long, for the audience was always ready to politely remind me of what I had done by a gentle applause of their feet against the floor.
Operator Had Vocal Ambitions
Strange enough- for all operators were looked upon with envy in those days- my friend, the operator, sold the owner the idea that he could save him money by singing the illustrated song, so it became my duty to operate the song slides without any supervision. I must admit that as a singer my friend was a good operator.
Extensive Staff
The comfortable nickelodeon chairs were of the folding camp and were nailed together in rows by the means of two by two's. A piano with a player who had a repertoire which consisted of "Hearts and Flowers" and some Indian melody furnished the music on the inside while the phonograph, suffering a chronic cold, coughed unsteadily away on the outside. Besides the proprietor, the cashier and the operator, the theatre staff consisted of the doorkeeper who was usually the proprietor.
Pathe films of the famous rooster brand were the most popular. Each reel of one thousand feet contained numerous subjects, such as a scenic shot made in front of a locomotive, a risque comedy wherein the maid entertained the policeman when the master and mistress left the home, all of which was followed by the inevitable chase. I well remember The Runaway Horse, The Great Train Robbery and others.
The Bouncer
The nickelodeon proprietor in those days faced the problem of emptying his house as fast as possible. Many who entered his place of business would not leave at the end of one show, but would remain for as many as two, three or more. It was the custom, at the end of each show, to give those who did not depart a ticket torn in half in order to establish that they had seen one performance. If they were still there with their half ticket at the end of the next show, they were politely requested to get out. Of course the system had many loopholes and many arguments resulted, but that was all a part of the day's work. Later the staff was augmented by a typical Bowery bouncer whose duty it was to take care of such altercations.
Of course the ingenuity of the operator did not remain idle. It was he who was depended on to grind the film through as fast as possible so that the house could be emptied in as short a time as possible.
Evolution- what a wonderful thing; human ingenuity- what it has accomplished. What more will it accomplish?
Victor Milner, "Fade Out and Slowly Fade In," American Cinematographer, September, 1923, pages 4, 23, 24.
© 1998, David Pierce, on editing and revisions (if any)
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