An old navy training film scratches its way to life in black and white. A gruff, middle-aged OFFICER appears, his thinning hairline and tight face positioned directly toward the camera as he commences his lecture.
OFFICER: We are now going to demonstrate the safe use and storage of nitrocellulose, also known as guncotton. This compound is extremely volatile, which is why it is primarily used as an explosive material in weaponry. Notably, it is also used as a film base for the new moving picture industry. Be aware that this type of material should ALWAYS be stored with extreme care as it is highly flammable and can cause severe bodily harm.
To prove his point the officer strikes a long match to light the film reel on fire and drops it into a large transparent container. The reel flares up and explodes with a white-hot flash as the chemicals in the emulsion feed off the air and flame. It continues to emit noxious flames and smoke as he continues . . .
OFFICER: This chemical reaction also produces deadly fumes that will kill you. If you find yourself in close proximity to nitrocellulose-based materials and intense heat or flames, we can only recommend that you . . .
RUN LIKE HELL!
The reel ends, blasting the screen an unearthly white as the film flap-flap-flaps lazily against the back of a humming projector.
INTERIOR/PROJECTOR BOOTH/NIGHT (in black and white)
The ancient film projector sits in a graying projection booth that has clearly seen better days. Tattered movie posters are clinging desperately to the walls and stacks of old film reels balance on top of one another. An old man’s shaky hands extract the navy training film from the dusty sprockets of the projection wheel and he flips the off switch as his young projectionist protégé watches.
OLD PROJECTIONIST: It is a lonely dead man’s profession with an uncertain future. If I were you, I’d join the navy. At least it has a slightly better death rate than sitting in this perch.
The old man hobbles away, shutting the door and causing the thin walls to rattle. The young man’s face follows a dusty reel as it falls off and makes its way toward the ground from the now-broken shelf on the wall. He picks it up and studies it. Across the cover, in faded script, the label reads, “WARNING! Nitrate Film: Highly Combustible.” The boy opens the canister, threads the film into the projector, and proceeds to flip the switch.
Click, click, click. The projection lights burst bright with a blinding white explosion and . . .
(Angelic otherworldly voice singing over the white):
A bird, he sang a little song, I sang along.
It’s from a film about an inn, that she was in,
And as with life there was a plot, but
not a lot.
Get to the chorus, she’s waiting there for us,
This is just the chorus, and we’re just the
choral ode.
EXTERIOR/PARIS/DAY (in color)
Across the dark, quiet countryside and over a sloping hill, thousands of twinkling lights blanket the horizon, causing the city to glow as though it is slowly being engulfed by low, warm flames. A newly built magnificent metal tower attempts to touch the sky, rising from the furnace below, dwarfing the cobbled streets and outdoor cafés. This is Eiffel’s tower. This is
Paris . . .
SOLDIER BOY (voice over image): When I was young, I was told my mother was very pretty and my father was very slow. I was born on May 10, 1889 at the Exposition Universelle.
EXTERIOR/WORLD’S FAIR/NIGHT (in color)
Chaos is unfolding right below the Eiffel Tower’s giant iron legs. Dozens of onlookers gather around a woman, who is moments away from giving birth. Her blond hair splays out around her fragile, contorted face. A small, thin man hyperventilates as he looks down at his wife, her legs spread, screaming at him to do something, anything.
SOLDIER BOY (voice over image): There wasn’t enough time to fetch a doctor, so a medicine man from Buffalo Bill’s Western Show stepped in.
A statuesque man in a cowboy hat, with pistols at his hips, pushes the husband aside to assess the situation. Buffalo Bill’s long white whiskers are perfectly greased into two symmetrical curls. He grunts and briefly steps away, returning with an old Native American in an authentic feathered headdress who begins the work of delivering the baby.
The healer’s glassy black eyes focus, in concentration, as he hums a deep, resonant song to bring the baby into this world. The husband watches fretfully, his sweating face inching closer and closer. CHEERS! A scream! MORE CHEERS!
The medicine man’s forehead creases in concern as he cradles the wet newborn in his hands. He whispers a multitude of unintelligible words to the crying infant before presenting it to the crowd, which erupts into cheers. All of the women gasp in adoration as the mother extends her wiry arms out for her child.
The shocked husband smiles a lopsided smile in relief. Buffalo Bill reaches into his pocket to reveal a finely rolled cigar, which he sticks in between the husband’s small, thin lips and lights. Buffalo Bill gives him a congratulatory slap on the back so hard the cigar is propelled onto the street in front of him.
SOLDIER BOY (voice over image): So many promises were made on the day of my birth, from flying cars to houses on wheels. A young man from the States named Edison made sound come out of a spinning cylinder, promising everyone present, including my parents, that he would soon make sound come out of pictures. On the same night, Edison would stand on the top of Eiffel’s tower and shake hands for the first time with Monsieur Emile Reynaud.
Above the chaotic scene, which now has collected many curious onlookers, Eiffel’s tower looms. The newborn baby peers up toward the sky as another scene is unfolding at the top of the tower. A small group of well-dressed men are gleaming down at all of Paris.
SOLDIER BOY (voice over image): Monsieur Reynaud invented a little machine called the praxinoscope (successor to the zoetrope), which was a strip of pictures placed around the inner surface of a cylinder that when spun created the illusion of movement through light on a curtain. Edison returned to the Americas and immediately embarked on the realization of the kinetoscope. He hoped to add moving pictures to the sound of his phonograph, effectively stealing Reynaud’s progress and simultaneously rendering it obsolete. I imagined them almost as strange angels looking down at me from the sky, as they were, standing above the clouds, hovering over Paris, on the brightest night this city of light has ever seen. The whole world anxiously waited at Paris’s doorstep, and imaginations were salivating with anticipation at the thought of previous impossibilities coming true—anything impossible suddenly seemed possible. Most of these promises never would come true, not in my lifetime anyway, but a few of these amazing promises . . . did.
CUT TO BLACK
