Dream of a Rarebit Fiend

A man is having a bit too much of a good time out on the town – drinking and eating far too much. He stumbles home and goes to bed but it is clear to the audience that the effects of his drinking habits are far from being out of his system.

A simple film this one but one that is interesting for its place in cinema history. The title is the plot and the first few scenes of the film are really just there to get our character into bed and falling into a drunken deep sleep. The main thing the film wants to do is how many visual effects it can then produce. In this case it achieves this really well and sets up a memorable dream sequence that is imaginative and technically impressive. As with all films from this period, it is worth keeping it in the context of the period and what other things were being done with other films. With this in the mind the film is worth seeing because it is imaginative but more than that it is technically impressive at a time when cinema was just starting to develop.

Let me start off by saying that I haven't seen the Melies movies from this period to compare it to. Given that caveat I must say I found this piece of film-making to be incredibly entertaining. On Image Entertainment's box-set of Unseen Cinema this short is included with its original soundtrack played by the Edison Military Band. This music must be the most crackpot, shamelessly joyful and subversive piece ever composed. I do not think the film would be the same without it.

I must say I found it very exhilarating to watch a man in a white suit and top hat spooning rarebit into his maw and down his face, slurping his porter or ale in the same mouthful. It's a glorious act of hedonism and reminds me of similar outrageous acts when I was a child (far too sensible now, sigh). For other commenters to think that this would not make him paralytic and hallucinatory is astonishing naivety. The way that he tries to hold onto a lamppost after leaving the restaurant whilst the whole world gyrates about him is an excellent portrayal of drunkenness unmatched in the judgmental and sober modern era.

Just when he thinks he's made it home safe and sound to bed (ah the respite of the divan!) the whole room starts dancing, poor chap, all of us drunks have fallen for this mirage of comfort. The voyage over the city in his bed is a bit odd for me, but doesn't dampen this excellent entertainment.

With a slight but bizarre story, and all kinds of special visual effects, this is one of the weirder but more interesting features of its era. It's not really a great film, since some parts of it don't quite work as well, but it's very interesting, and it would still be interesting even if it had been made some years later.

The story comes from some of Winsor McCay's comic strips about the "Rarebit Fiend", and the offbeat material indeed seems ready-made for cinema. There is just enough to the scenario to allow for a wide range of camera effects. Several sequences effectively and creatively combine panning shots and stationary views superimposed on each other to create an effect. The "whirling" effect, towards the beginning of the movie, might be the best one.

There are a number of other features from the first decade of the 1900s that might be even better in terms of the visuals, and/or that are more enjoyable as narratives, but this is still one of the movies that those who enjoy watching these very old films should make a point of seeing. It's unusual, experimental, and interesting.

After sloppily overindulging in 'Welsh rarebit' and wine, the titular 'fiend' (Jack Brawn) staggers home only to experience devilish headaches and horrifying dreams. This ancient silent comedy, directed and filmed by Edison men Wallace McCutcheon and Edwin S. Porter, was inspired by one of a series of eponymous 1904 comic strips drawn by Winsor McCay that featured the dire consequences of overconsumption of the 'beer, bread and cheese' concoction. The short is full of imaginative special effects that, although primitive by modern standards, were quite sophisticated at the time, including miniatures, stop-motion, double-exposures, mattes, and other assorted camera tricks. The overall effect is quite well-done and humorous, especially when the fiend experiences the dreaded 'bed-spins'.

This an inventive little number from Edwin S. Porter, film pioneer and director of the groundbreaking The Great Train Robbery who, after 15 or so years in the business, just seemed to fade away. This adaptation of a Winsor Mckay cartoon is wildly inventive for its time as it follows a gluttonous drunk home from a night on the town and eavesdrops on his dreams. Porter captures the giddy drunkenness of our hero by superimposing his antics over a speeded up panning shot and it's a technique that works incredibly well. He also shows us tiny little imps standing on the headboard of the poor guy's head and jabbing him with their pitchforks before the bed turns into a bucking bronco and flies out of the bedroom window to embark on a flight over the city. This is good stuff.