Luis Martinetti, Contortionist

Luis Martinetti, Contortionist (1894)

This early Edison kinetoscope isn't going to be for most people but if you're a fan of early cinema then it holds enough historical interest to make it worth viewing. Luis Martinetti, forgotten today, shows what he can do on the flying rings as his acrobatic act is put on film for people to be able to view over a hundred years after it was made. While watching these very small movies I often wonder what those who took part in it would think if they were brought back and told that film buffs would still be viewing these films all these decades later. At just 25-seconds no one should be expecting any type of "story" or "performance" but that really doesn't matter but what's so interesting here is the bit of history we the viewer get to see. Martinetti is certainly forgotten today but thanks to Edison we at least get to see someone who people back in the day enjoyed and flocked to see. The film basically features him doing a few tricks on the flying rings and that's it. Nothing ground-breaking but it's still fascinating for fans of early cinema.

This short feature is of definite historical interest, as one of the very first of the Edison Company's films to be made available for viewing through their Kinetoscope. Filmed in Edison's 'Black Maria' studio, it does a good job for its time in filming its subject.

Like a good many of the early Edison movies, this one features a popular vaudeville performer of the time. Luis Martinetti's act combined acrobatic skill with a surprising ability to bend and twist himself into unexpected positions. He does these in the movie with a minimum of props, and while it's not really all that exciting, you can see that it's not easy to do.

This is one case in which filming in the studio with the very dark background works well, highlighting the performer while still allowing him what he needs for his act. The framing is good, and the occasional jumps in the footage may not have been there originally. The pace of Martinetti's movement seems to vary, but it's difficult to tell whether that was actually his pace, or whether the camera may simply have been cranked at different speeds.

Luis Martinetti, a well-known contortionist born in Montreal (not Italy, as most people think), was actually only part of an act which he performed along with his two brothers of the Martinetti Brothers trapeze act, before he ended up leaving them to perform on his own. It was much later in the year 1894 by the time he finally came down to Edison's Black Maria studio in New Jersey to be filmed, in this single act shot by W. K. L. Dickson with William Heise and made on October 11 of that year. Reportedly, as no other footage of any sort also promoting the performance was made, these sixteen seconds appear to be the only motion picture record of Martinetti; in accordance with this, as there may not be any other footage shot on this date at all, this clip was no doubt made sometime after Martinetti decided to strike out on his own.

The brief excerpt the contortionist does of his performance seems to be one of the more complete acts they did on the various vaudeville performers and popular actors from 1894-1896. Instead of a bunch of tinsicas performed by Hadj Cheriff or a comedy act like Henry Welton's boxing cats and the Glenroy Brothers' boxing, (which are all very fragmentary) this short film really does give you a pretty good idea of what the act was like. It consists of a medium close view of Martinetti in a tiger-striped unitard suspended from a pair of rings, against the black background of the Black Maria, where he twists himself with an incredible limberness in such a way that most people would crack a rib (or two) to try. There was obviously plenty more to the actual act, but for a 16-second film it does give you a decent idea of what viewing the entire thing would be like. And was that not what Edison's original intent was for these Kinetoscope snippets all along? When viewed in that context it is thus more successful commercial-wise than some of the other acts Edison filmed that year.

Of course, the original intent obviously doesn't apply to the people of today in the way it used to work in the Kinetoscope parlors. Now, instead of watching the film to get a sneak-peek at the act, this brief piece of footage, like all the Kinetoscope films, actually serves more as a recorded document of what was popular during that period. It goes without saying that if Edison hadn't shot this clip, Martinetti would have vanished from the historical record a long time ago.