This Is Cinerama

I remember seeing "This Is Cinerama" in Detroit in 1953, the second city in the US to get the installation, after New York. Mine was a balcony seat, and that was a disappointment. The picture appeared as though projected on top of a huge ball. Also, the vertical strips composing the screen often wiggled a bit, perhaps do to air currents or drafts in the theater. Maybe this problem was not noticeable to those in orchestra seats. The lesson learned was that I would pop for the more expensive orchestra seat for future productions, a couple of which I saw and thoroughly enjoyed.

"How the West Was Won," being presented at the Cinerama Dome in Hollywood this fall, has always been on my list to see in the three-strip format. Have ticket; will be there.

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.

This Is Cinerama (1952)

** (out of 4)

Lowell Thomas, in a standard B&W prologue, gives us a quick history lesson in regards to film before history is set yet again when the screen opens wide and we're introduced to beautiful color and Cinerama. THIS IS CINERAMA is somewhat a historic little documentary since it did pretty much introduce people to what Hollywood was going to use to try and battle television, which had been taking away their profits. There's no question that the opening sequence is quite impressive and you can just feel the historic nature of it. With that said, everything that follows is pretty bland and boring when viewed today. I'm really not sure what they could have done to show off this format as the actual movies that would come would do that themselves. This here basically features a bunch of smaller things just to show off the format. We start off with a roller coaster ride before hitting other things including a large number of people water skiing, people dancing and various other short stories. The problem I had is that none of these short stories are all that interesting and I think you could argue that none of them really do justice to Cinerama. Still, considering this format was new and just being introduced here, I guess you can't blame the film too much. Is the film worth watching? I would say yes simply for its historic side but I think most people won't be that entertained.

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."