This Is Cinerama

I saw this at the Cinerama Dome and, like others, was hugely excited at the prospect of finally catching sight of the famous superwidescreen classic. I have nothing but respect and fascination for the careers of the makers of this film: Merian C. Cooper, Lowell Thomas and Mike Todd, Sr. But, well... honestly... for me it was slightly depressing. I'm so glad to have seen it after all these years of hoping someone would finally find a way to get it back in revival, but the film is still pretty much a stiff. Technically, in fact, I believe the Dome's screen was never wide-enough to accommodate the true Cinerama screen size. I sat about eight rows from the front and was not impressed, then switched to the second row after the intermission and finally found the immersion sensation so highly touted.

Overall I'd say this is form over content, with neither winning. The long-renown "seams" are as annoying as I'd heard they were from reports of the film going back to '52. Apparently only the Cinemiracle process that delivered only one documentary (in 1958) titled "Windjammer" supposedly eliminated or toned-down that problem (Cinemiracle was later bought out by Cinerama but the process and the movie have since disappeared as far as I know). But, okay, so what? It's still a film with a history of great impact when it arrived in 1952. Historically, it's a must see. No doubt about it.

But, the content itself? Well, you get a looooong build up from Lowell Thomas before the first Cinerama shot. In fact, Thomas pompously blathers on and on for about 20 minutes as we get the entire history of motion picture advancements up to Cinerama itself, all in 35MM. Finally the screen widens and we get the famous roller coaster bit. At last! But it is an all too brief opening thrill. What follows until intermission is an hour of shatteringly tedious, static shot sequences, of the Vienna Boys Choir, La Scala opera house, Long Beach Church Choir, a bullfight ring, then Spanish dancers. Possibly the dullest stuff you will ever witness on screen. Then, after the intermission, things pick up immediately with the Cypress Gardens sequence. Now you're talking! It's the success of THIS sequence that made the Cinerama film makers turn toward story-sightseeing scenarios for the future films in the format. In fact, with the America the Beautiful airshow spectacle that concludes the film, the entire second half could have been edited to immediately follow the roller coaster opening and you would have had quite an entertaining film. But it is what it is and it WAS a massive hit at the box office, playing for YEARS back in the fifties, not for weeks as films do nowadays. Great to have an opportunity to see it again, even if the seams and the dull handling of much of the content make it a chore to view at times.

Saw the World "Re-Premier" of "This Is Cinerama" yesterday at the Cinerama Dome, Hollywood. For the record, I also experienced it as a kid in '53 at Warner's Cinerama Theater in Hollywood, and at it's reissue at the same Cinerama Dome in 1972 (in single frame format...not three camera). It was a slightly unsettling occasion, as the roadshow ticket price of $11.00 promised a fully restored print, restored three camera operation, and two additional channels of stereophonic sound. I realized that the materials extant were rescued from a state of severe decomposition, but I was happy to plunk down my dollars for the good of the cause of saving three-camera Cinerama for movie posterity. Even as late as 1972, before IMAX and during the demise of 70mm, "This Is Cinerama" was still an exciting revelation, in spite of the kitsch and hokum of the Cypress Gardens sequences and some awkward ballet and church choir shots. The roller coaster opening still packed a wallop as this was before the roller coaster building boom and the numerous thrill rides (and thrill ride movies) that exist today (I maintain the the re-issue of this film in 1972 sparked the roller coaster building revival). But sadly, when viewed today, the Cinerama experience is woefully dated (in spite of the beliefs of the legion of Cinerama diehards who filled the Dome's 1,000 or so seats to 2/3's capacity). Shot in static camera lockdown, it plays like the early talkie musicals shot from the middle of the auditorium. The color in many of the sequences is atrocious, as it was even in 1952, and is especially apparent where three scenes are three distinct shades. The three strips would hardly ever synch-up for the showing I attended and many times exhibited glaring gaps between scenes. The roller coaster opening does not thrill the way it once did, because audiences have become jaded by even better filmed sequences done for IMAX...shot on hairier modern coasters much more thrilling than the ancient and now defunct "Atom Smasher" at Rockaway's" PlayLand. And the once highly touted Cinerama screen itself seems not as mighty as it once was, thanks to IMAX. I think many of the attendees yesterday were thinking they were really going to see something, but what they got was cornball narration, cornball dialogue and high-camp imagery straight out of a hermetically sealed 1950's can. I must say, that even for a battle tested cineast as myself, this material is tough sledding. But, in spite of all its shortcomings, this extravaganza does offer some tasty morsels for the film buff: glimpses of the Queen's Guards at Edinburgh Castle, some nice gondolier action in Venice and some crackling good camp in the form of the procession from Aida filmed inside the vast Milan opera house. We then end on a sweeping in-flight tour of the United States to the strains of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and "The Battle Hymm of the Republic." We can see where Walt Disney would borrow a lot of his material for a little TV show he would produce in a few years-"Disneyland"-from narrator Lowell Thomas (who "out-Walts Uncle Walt") in the black and white opening sequence on the history of the movies. Yep, Cinerama is the Grandaddy of them all, but like a lot of grandaddies, sometimes they are better off hidden away from view somewhere lest they shock the rest of the family due to their advanced state of dotage. The Arclight Company and Cinerama Dome say that if this re-release of "This Is Cinerama" is a success (it's only playing for one week), the majority of the seven productions in the process may be restored and exhibited. I'd go and see them, sure. But if the murmuring and disappointed crowd I saw leaving the theater yesterday has their say, I say to the folks at Cinerama: "Good Luck!"

When shown as intended this showcase demonstrates the potential of the Cinerama systems, their limitations, and gives a glimpse of the world as it was in 1952 in spectacular show-biz style. It is a technically interesting and fun documentary. Viewable only on the big screen with three projectors, the real thing, not a simulation, ladies and gentlemen, Cinerama! Having just come from seeing it at the Cinerama Dome in Hollywood, I'm in the mood to hawk its virtues. It must be admitted that technological advances are rapidly bypassing this type of system, but it is a grand and brazen promotion that deserves to be dragged out periodically to show how it used to be done. As with any other art, seeing it in person IS the real thing. Great date movie. It includes Edisons short "The Kiss" and most of "The Great Train Robbery" as part of its introduction, to give us something with which to compare Cinerama, plus some history of the development of photography as a popular art. We start right off with a whiz-bang roller coaster ride, and proceed right on through the Triumph from "Aida", presented in wonderful operatic splendour by the company at the La Scala opera house. Boy did I go for that. After intermission we went to Cyprus Gardens to view its 1952-style wonders, including the famous Auquacade (a dance, stunt and comedy show on water skis). The grand vistas of our America (including industrial might) are displayed in spectacular fashion with edifying narration. Lots of fun stuff like that to show off the extra big, clear picture and a sound system of close to modern theatrical quality, at least to my ear. I was glad to have the experience, and am happy that this document exists.

Was the original Cinerama - with its triple cameras and triple projectors - really necessary? Probably not, but it's an undeniable part of movie history, and should be respected as such.

A now-obsolete (not to mention unwieldy and expensive) process, Cinerama was something I'd known about only from film history books and encyclopedias - there was no practical way of seeing Cinerama in its original form. I'd seen "The Wonderful World of the Brothers Grimm" as well as a revival of "This Is Cinerama" in the early 1970's, but in both cases the triple negatives had been reprinted onto a single strip of film. The results looked awful - it wasn't just the tell-tale lines of demarcation where the frames were joined, but also severe distortion caused by flattening out images originally designed for a deeply curved screen. The reprinted "This Is Cinerama" looked so appalling, I wondered what all the fuss had been about. (The only sequence that seemed to work was the legendary roller-coaster ride at the beginning.)

Thanks to The New Neon Movies in Dayton, Ohio, I have seen the past - and it works. Neon's manager, Larry Smith, revived Cinerama with a series of screenings beginning in 1996 that were made possible thanks to a projectionist and Cinerama "nut" named John Harvey who's been collecting Cinerama equipment, prints and memorabilia over the years. (He's put together a customized set-up that enables him to run the projectors and soundtrack reader single-handedly.) I saw "This Is Cinerama" in Dayton in January 1997.

"This Is Cinerama," which introduced the process, is basically a corny 1950s travelogue hosted by globetrotter (and Cinerama backer) Lowell Thomas, who hams it up nicely for this extravaganza ("Ladies and gentlemen ... this is Cinerama!"). Seeing the Cinerama process in all its flawed glory was a fascinating experience. At its worst, Cinerama looks exactly like what it is: three side-by-side projected images that frequently jitter in opposing directions, spoiling the effect. (Harvey's prints are also visibly worn and scratched.) But at its best, Cinerama offers a height of clarity and detail you can't get elsewhere, except maybe for IMAX films.

The opening roller-coaster ride was a wonderfully dizzying experience. But for me, one of the most spectacular sights in "This Is Cinerama" was a view down a street in Spain teeming with people - it seemed to go forever into the distance with amazing sharpness. (Cinerama's larger-than-life clarity was also evident in the other film I saw during my visit to Dayton, "How the West Was Won." During a scene set in a casino, I found myself staring into the frame, trying to pick up all the visual details I could.) The Neon isn't that big a theater, and yet the Cinerama image still looked awesome.

Only seven films were made in the original Cinerama process. I regard Cinerama movies the way I do 3-D films: I'm glad they were made, and I'm glad to see them in their original form - none of which is an argument for making new movies in either process, but it is an argument for preserving, not just the films themselves, but the experience of seeing them the way they were meant to be shown.

Thank you, John Harvey and Larry Smith. (And Fred Waller, Cinerama's inventor.)

I sat in the same theater (the Pacific Cinerama Dome on Sunset Blvd. in L.A.) on the same date as mk4 of Long Beach, but I'm happy to say I didn't see the same film; nor did I hear any murmurs of disappointment on the way out. At the screening I attended, when Lowell Thomas proclaimed, "Ladies and gentlemen -- this is Cinerama!" and the screen expanded to full size as the rollercoaster began, the audience burst into spontaneous applause. And there was sustained applause during the credits at the end.

This was my third viewing of "This Is Cinerama," having previously seen it at the Esquire in Sacramento in 1963 and the New Neon in Dayton, OH in 1996, and it was far and away the best. (I also saw the disappointing one-strip reissue in 1972 -- which should have been called "This Isn't Cinerama" -- but that doesn't count.) The folks at Arclight Cinema, or whoever is directly responsible for restoring this landmark film, are to be congratulated for having done everything exactly right.

The print at the Dome -- or prints, I should say -- were virtually flawless; I saw only a brief green emulsion line in the right frame for about a minute during the first "Aida" sequence, a very slight blue cast to some of the Cypress Gardens shots, one or two seconds of white speckling, and a single cracked frame during the Venice scene. Otherwise, the film was absolutely flawless, the 1950s Technicolor brilliant, vivid, and stunning. Yes, the seams between the frames were there, but that's a given with Cinerama, like black-and-white photography in many movies or subtitles on foreign films. More important is how the seams were managed by the projection apparatus and operators -- the picture was absolutely ROCK-STEADY, and I was pleased to notice none of the "rippling" that was always noticeable in a Cinerama film when someone or something crossed the seam. I don't know how they managed it, but the Cinerama picture never looked this good before.

As the title clearly implies, "This Is Cinerama" is nothing more or less than a demonstration of the process (which is why the single-frame 1970s reissue was such a dumb idea), and it took people to places they probably couldn't go themselves; travel was not nearly so common or so wide in 1952. Besides, even if someone did make it to La Scala in Milan, how many of them would actually have a chance to stand on stage among the performers? True, the choice of segments, and to a certain extent the narration, reflect middlebrow attitudes of 1952. Deal with it. If that makes "This Is Cinerama" look kitschy or dated now, it's as much a limitation in the eye of the beholder as in the film.

Lowell Thomas says in the prologue, "We truly believe this is going to revolutionize motion pictures," and the truth is, it did. Hollywood flirted with wide-screen processes in the early 1930s, then quickly gave them up. But after "This Is Cinerama," the wide screen was here to stay (and now it's even taking over television!). For that matter, so was stereophonic sound (a term that was actually coined for "This Is Cinerama"). Today it is a rare and cheap movie indeed that isn't shot for the wide screen and recorded in stereo. Cinerama itself may not have survived -- it was, after all, cumbersome and expensive -- but its influence was absolute, and continues to this day.

The restored screenings at the Pacific Cinerama Dome show why, and Arclight Cinemas have done a tremendous service in preserving and reviving the Cinerama experience. I look forward to seeing more (particularly "How the West Was Won," easily the best of all Cinerama movies), especially if they are presented as faithfully as "This Is Cinerama."