Cinema Scenes that Talk.

Kaipara and Waitemata Echo, 10 April 1914, Page 2

Cinema Scenes that Talk.

STATE SECRETS AS RECOGNISED BY AFFLICTED MEMBERS OF THE AUDIENCE. Most people pity the blind, but we v.'h.) are deaf know that deafness is an affliction almost as terrible. But it is not of our drawbacks—above all, of the awful loneliness that surrounds us always—that I want to tell you. I want to point out one lit:Ih; respect in which we've got the better of you, and that's at the picture theatre. At the pictures I am quite a privileged person. At ordinary theatres and concerts I always feel a good deal ''out of it;" so much so in fact, that years ago I practically stopped going altogether. But the pictures are a different thing. There I'm in a position of advantage. When you see the pictures you've got to supply the dialogue from your own imagination, while I can actually see them talk. It's this way. Like most deaf people I am something1 ; of an adept at "lip-reading," -so much so, in fact, that I can carry on a conversation quite well by this means.. Conditions for lip-reading at the picture theatre are simply perfect. The lighting of the scenes is good, and the performers are trained to exaggerate the movements of the lips, so that one can read off practically every word they say. The cinema production has its dialogue just the same as any other phiy. The performers aren't expected to be word-perfect, but the ■ lay is spoken as well as acted. I fancy, though, that some of the performers take a good many liberties with the "book." One very well-known picture actor, for instance, habitually uses language that, by no stretch of the imagination, could possibly be spoken of as parliamentary. His acting- is a marvel of vigour and realism, but I am quite Certain that he would be called to order pretty sharply if the stage-manager had any idea that there were likely to be any lip-readers in his audiences. WITH EYES TO SEE. In a way, too, I'm "behind the. the scenes," at least, I often see things the audience certainly isn't meant to. Love scenes often give rise to really funny little bits of by-piay. "Be careful, you idiot !" remarks the heroine of a moving-picture drama, as she nestles confidingly in her stalwart lover's arms, "or you'll have my hair down next;" while another, resenting, it seems, the realism with which her fellow-performer plays his part, threatens to box his ears if he dares to kiss her again. That the hint is given with the coyi est of upturned glances does not detract in the least from its force. 1 ".Filmed" celebrities, too, often have passing remarks preserved to all time for those who have eyes to see. The " Votes for Women " should be Mrs. Pankhursfs contribution is not surprising, but the average "filmed" remark tends to be less opposite and more often than not uncomplimentary to the camera man. "Bother these cinematograph fellows I" is a remark T have twice seen Mr. Winston Churchill make. But the remark of the bridegroom at a recent society wedding possibly voices the real feelings of most people who become the objects of the operators' attentions. "Best smile," he is remarking to his' bride as they leave the church ; "here's where we've .got to try and look pretty." And the bride did. : On such little discrepancies as Oernian Ihlxns who obligingly speak English, of cowboys of the Wild West who voice their thoughts in t'i■•■ purest of Parisian French, it would be unkind to dwell.—"Answers."