Départ de Jérusalem en chemin de fer

Jerusalem in the Ottoman Empire in 1897 was a strange place to us today. Christians, Muslims and Jews lived side by side in relative harmony. They celebrated their own customs, and also partook in the celebrations of the others' customary feasts and holidays.

The old Jerusalem Train Station has recently been re-opened - preserved and renovated - and gives hundreds of thousands of people joy as a public area with cultural events and great restaurants and bars in Jerusalem.

The Lumiere brothers' claim to fame is that they invented an "all in one" camera in which a film could be shot, film developed, and then film projected that allowed their "actualities" - shots of real life - to be seen by an entire audience. Edison's original invention only allowed one person at a time to view one of their films and their devices were unwieldy, unlike the device devised by the Lumieres. Their camera also produced a much clearer image than the Edison's camera could produce.

A camera attached to a train pulls out of a station in Jerusalem, watched by genial onlookers. If one's mind and imagination are open, the effect is thrilling, taking to its logical conclusion movement within a static frame, and also reversing the experience of 'Arrivee d'un train'; now the audience is no longer frightened by an oncoming threat, a passive victim to a locomotive object, but part of that movement, with the camera transporting us from reality, from the stable and still, a transport the cinema has made its raison d'etre.

The film is cherisable for other reasons - the smiles of the observers left behind; for the complex interplay of gazing this prompts - with whom do we identify, the looker or the thing looked at: we share properties with both; the beautiful gliding movement which does not mirror any experience I've ever had on a train, that transport medium on its way out as cinema begins its conquest.

Most moving of all is the vision of late-19th century Jerusalem that rises miraculously from the reassuringly familiar station, vast ruins which are not as other ruins, but seem like petrified tears, as with the trees in 'Sleepy Hollow' or 'Saddle the Wind'. This view of a city, already weighed down with history and contention, yet untainted by the blight of the 20th century, is breathtaking, and a little humbling.

This has some of the most fascinating and beautiful footage of any of the very earliest movies. The resourceful camera idea works out very well, and the setting could hardly have been more interesting. The blend of images and ideas in this short feature has rarely been matched in such a short running time. It's well worth watching a number of times, in order to appreciate all of the details.

Even aside from the subject being filmed, the film is quite resourceful in producing a reversed form of the "phantom rides" that were one of the staples of the very earliest years of motion pictures. The effect is convincing, making the viewers feel very much as if they were on board the train as it pulls away. Moreover, the camera field is set up perfectly, so as to catch plenty of action in the foreground and plenty of detail in the background. Cinematography doesn't get a lot better, in any era.

Even this display of skill might be eclipsed by the material itself. It's fascinating to see this view of Jerusalem, its inhabitants, and its scenery, and it's very fortunate that this footage preserves something of the Jerusalem of its era. The simple view of people from so many different cultures and of so many different personalities, all in one place, creates an atmosphere much quicker than words could have done. Then there is the background view of some of the ruins of old Jerusalem, plus a view of some newer structures. It all speaks eloquently of the history and humanity that is part of the city.

"Leaving Jerusalem By Railway" is one of the very best of the pioneering films from the mid-1890s. The combination of technical skill and imagination plus the fascinating material make it one of the movies of its time most worth watching and remembering.

With the success of the Cinematograph exhibitions in Paris during December 1895 and extending into 1896, the Lumieres made decisions on how to handle the future of the device. Jules Carpentier, the Paris-based engineer who had made 25 of the machines for Louis Lumiere during 1895, was now commissioned to manufacture two-hundred more. No machine would be sold. The Lumieres would train cameramen/projectionists at their Lyon, France headquarters and send them around the world to capture views (soon to be called "actualities") that would be sent back to France for processing and then distributed for exhibition. Exhibitors were franchised by the Lumiere company but were required to use Lumiere employees, who were Lumiere-trained projectionists, for all their presentations.

It was under the above arrangement, that a Lumiere cameraman arrived in Jerusalem during 1896. One film that he made had to have a profound effect on the audience of that day. People who had never been more than a few miles from home could be in Jerusalem and for one minute, actually see their departure from that holy city in that holy land.

We are standing on the observation platform, on the rear car of a train, for our last look at Jerusalem which is seen only through our eyes. Men are standing on the tracks looking at us. In the background are what appears to be stone ruins in an arid area. Abruptly, the train moves away from this scene and the view widens as the men appear to wave good-bye. As massive stone walls come into view, we realize there is a train station platform. We glide past the crowd in front of the station; there to bid us farewell. Christians, Jews or Muslims can relate to the people on the platform; seemingly wistful at our departure. There is a visceral appeal of being in a wonderful place and leaving it with sadness. Forty-four seconds after the start, the screen goes blank.

This type of picture, where the viewer is propelled through a scene by an unseen force, would be used (during the next few years) by a large number of cinematographers and would be called a "phantom ride."

If you take a good look into the world of the first films ever than you will find many different genres that were popular during the time and were copied a lot. "Leaving Jerusalem by Railway" is a film that can be placed in the actuality genre, but can also be considered an entry into the Phantom Ride genre. Phantom Rides were films taken on a train that basically documented the surrounding area as the train moved. And, considering I've seen several of these, I think I can safely call this short the first Phantom Ride film ever. Other phantom ride films include Georges Melies's "Panorama from top of a moving train" and Lumieres' own "Panorama de l'arrivee en gare de Perrache pris d'un train". Films involving phantom rides as part of narrative structures include Smith's "A Kiss in the Tunnel" and Edwin S. Porter's "The Great Train Robbery".

Here, instead of filming in a forward direction like later Phantom Rides, this short moves backwards. The train which the camera is mounted on pulls out of the station and leaves the people behind. I suppose the Lumiere cameraman Alexander Promio only had so much film in the camera so that's why is ended so quickly. Interesting actuality and while not the first moving shot ever (the first moving shot was in "Panorama du Grand Canal pris d'un bateau", another Lumiere short) it does add to that category. It's also an interesting look into the past, as is all of Lumiere's movies.