O Desaparecimento de uma Dama no Teatro Robert Houdin

"Escamotage d'une dame au théâtre Robert Houdin" is a very short and simple film. Folks today might no doubt think little of it. But back in 1896, folks were wowed by the film and it spurred actor/director Georges Méliès to make more films like it as well as expand on the tricks he used in this one.

Méliès was a magician before he became a filmmaker. It's obvious in this one as he plays a magician in the film and makes his assistant disappear and then turn into a skeleton. It's all done simply by stopping the camera and restarting it...but the use of edits like this baffled folks in the day and the film deserves kudos for its innovation.

"The Vanishing Lady" seems to be the earliest surviving trick film by Georges Méliès (a time-sensitive claim, to be sure). His first films were standard actuality films like those made by the Lumière brothers. One of his earliest films "Playing Cards" (Une partie de cartes) (1896) is, indeed, a remake of the Lumière film, "Card Game" (Partie de cartes) (1895). As the apocryphal story goes, Méliès accidentally discovered trick photography while filming a traffic scene. The camera jammed in the midst of filming, but he was able to get it to work again and resume shooting. The jump cut, or stop-substitution effect, made it appear that a carriage transformed into a hearse and that men turned into women. However, the Edison Company had already realized such an effect, furthered by splicing, such as in "The Execution of Mary, Queen of Scots" (1895). Perhaps, Méliès was inspired by one of these films. After all, he did purchase films from the Edison Company to project at his Robert Houdin Theatre before he set out on making his own pictures. It's known that he did have a copy of "Annabelle Serpentine Dance" (1895)--a film that of which hand-colored prints were sold; Likewise, Méliès would offer hand-colored prints of his films at extra cost, which was the case with "The Vanishing Lady".

Thus, "The Vanishing Lady" isn't novel so much for its tricks; yet, it's novel for the presentation of those tricks. In "The Execution of Mary, Queen of Scots", the stop-substitution effect serves the historical reenactment, and the filmmakers attempted to conceal the trick. Méliès's film, however, is for--is about--the tricks, with the magic act serving to present them. This seems to explain why the Edison Company found little use initially for stop action and editing until they later began to make imitations of Méliès's films. Moreover, as Tom Gunning has explained as the "cinema of attractions", these early films are about presentation and not, as in later narrative films, representation. Later, Méliès would also be instrumental in the development of narrative films.

The vanishing lady trick is based on an actual magic act by Joseph Buatier de Kolta, which Méliès surely could have reproduced on film if he so desired. Indeed, he had previously performed the act on stage at his Robert Houdin theatre. The newspaper bit was important for the traditional magic act, but is only a decorative relic here. Instead, for the film, he employs three stop-substitutions (or, to use a term that recognizes the importance of editing: "substitution splicing")--to make a woman disappear, to make a skeleton appear and then to make the woman reappear--which he would touchup by splicing. Méliès uses especial filmic effects for presentation and, in turn, makes the film about the presentation of this magic. Méliès had invented cinema magic.

There's another trick in this film. The stage setting, with the painted background, is an artificial set created for the film. Méliès, the true auteur that he was, was also responsible for the stage designs of his films. This film was actually filmed outdoors--probably at his garden at Montreuil--for the natural lighting (see the shadows). The film's original French title refers to the act taking place within the Robert Houdin theatre. This wasn't true for the filming of the act, but it was true for its exhibition when Méliès projected the film to his audience.

'Concealment of a Lady at the House of Robert-Houdin' is one of the early 'trick' films of Georges Méliès. In this case, his choice of trick is a questionable one, as here Méliès is merely reproducing (on film) a conjuror's illusion which Robert-Houdin and many other magicians had done live in their stage acts ... so, Méliès is using a camera trick to achieve what the conjurors achieved with stagecraft. Later, Méliès's better and more complicated trick films offered feats which could only be done via camera wizardry ... thus beating the stage illusionists at their own game.

An elegant corseted lady is seated in a chair on the stage. Méliès, dressed in evening attire, drapes a cloth over her, then whisks it away. Hey presto! The lady has been transformed into a skeleton.

For modern audiences, accustomed to 'Bewitched' and such, it's almost laughably obvious that Méliès achieves his effect with a simple jump cut. Unfortunately, Méliès's trickery is cruder and more obvious than it needed to be -- even by 1896 standards -- because the skeleton seated in the chair is about three inches taller than the woman it has replaced. I suspect that, even in 1896, audiences realised that Méliès had substituted the skeleton for the lady, rather than whisked away her clothing and her flesh to leave her own skeleton remaining.

This film's title may have been clear in the 19th century, but now wants some explanation. Robert-Houdin was a legendary French stage magician of the Victorian era. (As I write this, Michael Douglas is planning to star in 'Smoke and Mirrors', based on a true incident in Robert-Houdin's career.) Harry Houdini adapted his own stage name in honour of Robert-Houdin. As a boy, Georges Méliès attended performances of stage magic at Theatre Robert-Houdin, the magician's exhibition hall in Paris. After Robert-Houdin's death, the adult Méliès bought the magician's theatre and adapted it as the studio in which he filmed his trick movies. Quite conveniently, Theatre Robert-Houdin was already fitted with trap doors and other trickery which Méliès put to good use.

More for its historic value than for its entertainment value or the level of its conjuring, I'll rate this early film 8 out of 10.

Robert Houdin was a French magician and illusionist. He doesn't appear in this early experiment, but his name is loaned to one of the first illusions on film provided by Georges Melies. Melies himself said that this was the first film in which he used stop motion - a process in which illusions could be performed by stopping his camera, rearranging the set, and then starting the camera again, to give the illusion that items and people have either appeared or disappeared.

In this film, an elegantly dressed woman sits in a chair while the magician drapes her with a shroud. The magician removes the shroud and the woman has disappeared. He makes a few gestures and voila! He returns - a skeleton??? Oh the horror!. So he brings the shroud back into the act, covers the skeleton, and the entire woman and her clothes are recovered. Wherever the woman went, the clothes MUST follow! After all this is literally the Victorian era even though it is France.

The magician was played by Georges Melies himself, and the woman was played by Jehanne d'Alcy. D'alcy appeared in numerous Melies films over the years, having left the theater to devote herself to film acting, one of the first actors to do this. The two got married, but oddly not until 1925 when D'Alcy was 60 and Melies was 64. They were married until his death in 1938.

Things happened fast in the first few years of film - less than a couple of years before, the Lumiere brothers showed their first film - workers leaving their factory, one minute's worth - at the Societe d'Encouragement a l'Industrie Nationale. In late 1896, George Melies made this film, which quite simply shows a woman changing into a skeleton & back again. He used stop action of course, which every kid with a video camera has done by now, but at the time it was sensational.

Melies made his name & fame with such camera tricks in the cinema's early days - but whether he was the first to do the stop-frame thing is contested, as an Englishman named G.A. Smith was experimenting with the same things at the same time.

I still think, though, this particular trick is kinda neat.