Dream of a Rarebit Fiend

Famous fantasy short with a moral: a man spends a night stuffing himself with food and drink in a restaurant; stumbling his way home, he sees the buildings 'dancing' around him and, on arriving, things only get worse. The bed starts to shake violently as if possessed and even throws itself, with the man still tucked in, through the window (the film's single funniest bit)! Flying around town a' la Scrooge, he's sure to have learnt his lesson by the next morning.

As far as I know, the only other Porter film I've watched is THE GREAT TRAIN ROBBERY (1903), celebrated for being the first Western; this one, then, contains a number of crude camera tricks in the contemporary style of Frenchman Georges Melies. Incidentally (and Michael Elliott is sure to raise an eyebrow or two at this!), in spite of their undeniable historical value, I can't bring myself to appreciate such primitive stuff other than as mere curiosities…

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.

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'.

What an amazing cinematic experience! Just as Porter's influence was starting to wane, he makes what is arguably his most visually stunning film. Though not as famous as "Life of an American Fireman", Rarebit Fiend is a clever, captivating piece of film history.

The 'plot' as such is irrelevant - what the film does is take opportunities to showcase as many new special effects as it possibly can. Tricks of space, dimension, time, both in-camera and on set, create one of cinema's first convincing nightmare perspectives. Predating the surrealist era by decades, Porter's film is a must see for all fans of non-linear and non-traditional film-making.

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.