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A PAST ARTICLE FROM REEL DEALS - The Aussie Film Collectors Magazine
KIDDIE
KINEMATOGRAPHS
by
Charles Slater
Ciné-Ducks
and Dux-Cinés Visualise
a youthful projectionist setting up his ‘Junior Cinematograph Picture Outfit’.
He loads a film, not much over three feet in length, then cautiously lights the
wick of the kerosene illuminant. Meanwhile an audience consisting of relatives
and neighbours settle back in mute anticipation of the performance to come.
Finally the room light is extinguished and there, on a suspended bed sheet, can
be observed the faint image of a roadway.
After
brief discussion the assembled audience agree that there appears to be several
ducks in one corner. All eyes are now accustomed to the gloomy image and our
budding entrepreneur begins cranking the handle attached to his tin-plate
wonder. Miraculously the ducks begin to move. Indeed, they appear to be crossing
the road. LOOK OUT! Here comes an automobile. Fortunately it just misses our
feathered friends. A courteous chuckle is heard from patronising relatives at
the climax of this five-second epic.
To
compensate for the brevity of approximately 65 frames of animation it was
customary to join these short strips of 35mm film head-to-tail to create
a
continuous loop. Consequentially, narrowly missing disaster once was not
sufficient for these foolhardy fowl; they dash forward again and escape death a
second time. Then for a third, fourth and fifth time as the loop traverses gate
and sprocket. By
this time hopefully Junior showman is old enough to realise that one can have
too much of a good thing and a full minute of any one subject, even if as
thrilling as these dare devil ducks, is usually sufficient. Room lights go on
to enable a fresh subject to be laced up. What will it be next? ‘Crashing
waves’, 'Boxing Match’ or
that sure-fire hit - ‘Approaching Train’. Typical Child's Cinematograph Outfit
Motion
picture repertoire exhausted, versatility of the apparatus is demonstrated by
using it to screen ‘stereopticon views’ (translation:
- ‘glass slides’) in full lithographic colour, concluding with some from the
‘Comic Faces’ series, each guaranteed for a good laugh. Finally,
the show over, the lad's proud parents are assured by departing guests that
their budding showman has a brilliant future.
Proof
that there was a time when such simple diversions were popular is evidenced the
hardware and software that still survives. A
wide variety of these toy projectors have been produced over the years. They
came in numerous sizes, shapes and colours even though, for the most part,
sharing basic operating principles. Most turn-of-the-century examples were, like
many other tin toys of the period, of German origin. Made of ‘Russian Iron’
by the Nurernburg firm Bing, they spread throughout the world under a variety of
aliases. The light source was usually a small kerosene lamp complete with
chimney. Optics consisted of an elementary condenser lens behind the film gate
and a single meniscus projecting lens, fitted in a sliding barrel for focusing. These
were basic requirements for both still (magic lantern) and movie (cinematograph)
projectors. Additional mechanics necessary for movie versions consisted of the
hand cranked intermittent movement, usually a toothed wheel driven by a crude
‘Maltese cross’. An alternative was an even more fundamental ‘beater’
movement; a rotating bent rod, which literally bashed the film through a frame
(or so) at a time. Geared
to the intermittent movement was a rotary fan type shutter (usually single
bladed). Cheaper versions dispensed with this technical nicety thereby
increasing the marginal light output at the expense of severe ‘ghosting’
(vertical smearing of highlights). A guide was provided for the film loop
consisting of a vertical rod with a top right-angle bend over which the film
would travel. Film
subjects were usually simple line-drawn animations in either black and white or
lithographic colour. As explained earlier, the brevity of scenes was overcome by
joining the ends to form a continuous loop.
Early Toy Cine 35mm Film
Longer
films, of 30 feet or more, were also available, but all examples I have seen
thus far consist of discarded lengths of commercial feature film. Toyshops sold
these rolls in appropriately sized cans for a few pennies each. Being
inflammable nitrate based film, most of these ended up as 'stink bombs' at the
hands of schoolboys whose interests lay less with film techniques than
pyrotechnics. What remains has usually gone the way of most nitrate silent film,
shrunken and decomposed. The shorter acetate loops have usually become too
brittle to stand projection without disintegrating. Although
many thousands of playroom projection devices must have been manufactured over
the years a mere fraction endured the passage of time. This is no doubt due to
the flimsy construction of these devises coupled with the harsh treatment dished
out by their youthful guardians. This applies even more in the case of the
primitive ‘software’. Films made specifically for these machines were of
standard 35mm gauge but printed mechanically (E.I. not photographically), on a
slow burning base. It is a wonder
that any examples of these frail strips remained intact after suffering numerous
passes across those rudimentary sprockets in such close proximity to a naked
flame. (Perhaps there could be merit in reprinting these examples of these
embryonic motion picture cartoons while some still survive).
British Made DUX CINE with 35mm Strip of 2 Phase Animation
After
World War I at least two toy projectors were manufactured, which ran 28mm film,
apparently to use up leftover stock of this obsolete Pathé gauge. Later,
Japanese manufacturers copied the products of Bing and others with brand names
such as ‘King’, ‘Lion’, and
‘Fairy Maid.’ Usually,
these imitations were even less sturdy than the German originals. These factors
combine to place toy cinemas in the scarce, although not rare, category. Such
scarcity is possibly more evident here in Australia due to the sparser
population and cultural leaning toward outdoor recreation. Aussie Christmas
stockings were far more likely to include a cricket bat than a magic lantern.
For
anyone with regard for the history of cinema technology or a passion for
collecting juvenilia, such items are intriguing. Little wonder, with my wife
keen on the latter and myself with film dust coursing through my veins, we are
forever on the lookout for unfamiliar toy projectors.
For
some months during 1950-51 the back page of the Australian magazine "Radio
and Hobbies" carried an advertisement for a quite fascinating toy called
the ‘Dux Movie Projector’. Precious little information was given other than
that it was English built and cost, in those pre-decimal currency days, £3/10/3
and there were a ‘wide variety of films available at 2/11 each’. When
eventually, a Dux
Cine (to give it its proper designation) turned up in the window of a
local toyshop, it was LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT...
Levenson's 1950 advertisement in Radio & Hobbies for the British Made DUX CINE
Much
time was spent after school, nose against the store window, trying to figure out
the operational details of this curious battery and clockwork operated device.
It was an occasion for much excitement when a cousin and I, between us,
eventually managed to save the requisite sum and purchased our very own movie
projector. THE
'DIN' DUX I
have unashamedly confessed to a fondness for cinematic hardware of the most
elementary kind. In the process of satisfying this irrational urge to accumulate
examples of bygone toy projectors I discovered one of my favorite childhood toys
the DUX CINE had ancestors going back to at least 1929. Chicko
Marx once quipped “Why a duck?” More
to our point: What is a Dux?
Pathé
original 9.5mm notched title system was incredibly economical, but the Dux did
much better. This diminutive toy actually managed to realise nearly two minutes
of ‘moving pictures’ from a mere twelve inches of 35mm film The
foot long film, which was advanced by the clockwork motor travelled horizontally
at a literal snail’s pace past the dual apertures. It consisted of pairs of
images, one above the other. These depicted the two extreme phases of a
repetitive action. As the two images were projected alternately about once a
second, an illusion of limited yet comically quaint animation was achieved. A
continuously moving panorama of such scenes appeared on the screen due to the
filmstrip’s slow but continuous passage through the projector. Subjects
included stock nursery stories such as Red Riding Hood, simplified versions of
Disney-type characters and classics such as Robinson Crusoe, the latter
requiring three strips- quite an epic.
It may be worth noting at
this point, before some reader alleges my observations are amiss regarding such
details as the precise designation of this projector, that my Dux Cine had a
close (but not identical) twin. This was the Dux Kino manufactured in Germany
and marketed, both in Australia and Britain, concurrently with it’s British
made counterpart. The differences were subtle but worth pointing
out In a way the Dux Kino was a DIN version of the Dux Cine. Although externally the most obvious difference is in the logo embossed on top, the Kino mechanism actually transports its film in the reverse direction to that of the Dux Cine. The result is that, although the films made for each machine are essentially compatible, captions on strips made for the Kino appear back-to-front when run on it’s British counterpart and vice-versa. This is slightly reminiscent of the situation that occurred in the early 1930’s with the introduction of 16mm ‘talkies’. Films made for a SMPE standard projector, such as the British Thomson Houston, would appear left-right reversed if run on a German DIN standard machine. (See Gerald McKee’s account in ‘THE HOME CINEMA’ for further details). British Dux Cine and German Dux Kino. Note the winding keys are on opposite sides due to
inversely mounted mechanisms. The
other major dissimilarity is internal. The Dux Cine utilises a simple rotary
switch arrangement to alternately power the two 3.8 volt torch globes thereby
producing the requisite dissolve effect. The Kino on the other hand makes do
with a small rotating shutter blade to give the same effect. Consequently power
is applied to both light globes at once, effectively halving the life of the
4.5-volt cycle lamp battery.
Another projector, more
or less contemporary with the Dux but slightly MiniCine
loaded with its 4-phase filmstrip An
exhaustive treatise on the history and mechanics of the MiniCine can be found in
the set of papers privately published by Stephen Herbert some years back under
the collective title ‘Amateur Cinematography’. Last
year I acquired a North American version of the MiniCine put out under the name
of the Disney-Land Projector manufactured by Mavco Inc., N.Y.C. Although
operating on the same principle as its British equivalent, this projector is
totally different in appearance. Approximately
four inches high and more or less box shaped, it is topped off with a
semi-circular simulated spool box which has no purpose whatsoever other than to
make it look more like a ‘reel (sic) projector’. The body is entirely
plastic unlike the totally cast aluminium MiniCine. The mechanism of the
Disney-Land Projector, although fundamentally similar to the British version, it
appears not near as robust. Although it does boast a larger light source (a car
automobile type panel lamp as opposed to the torch globe used in the MiniCine)
there is little difference in screen brightness. There
was a rudimentary shutter fitted, made of gray translucent plastic. I say was
fitted as the heat of the lamp had distorted it almost beyond recognition. Not
that it would ever have been very effective, as it was the sort of shutter a
designer might specify if he was unsure whether a shutter was necessary. Being
translucent and with its under-size blades, in relatively sharp focus, the
presence of this shutter would be only slightly less disturbing than the
streaking highlights it was intended to alleviate.
This gate aperture in the
US model is slightly less high than that of the
US manufactured Disney-Land projector, which utilised the same film format as the mini-cine. The
one film that came with the Disney-Land projector was a slightly faded colour
(Eastman Color?) strip of ‘Bambi’. I found it intriguing that this version
was completely different to the Bambi film supplied for the MiniCine. If there
were any affiliation between the manufacturers of these two machines it would
seem to have been rather tenuous. As
for the coloured Mini-Cine filmstrips, many seem to have retained their original
colours perfectly while others (such as those edge-marked ‘Dufay Chrome’)
have faded to a magenta monochrome. Curiously, the dreaded wording ‘Nitrate
film’ appears along the edge of a few of these films however this apparently
emanates from the original master; the end product was undoubtedly acetate
safety film. I
have often wondered ‘who copied who’ in the conception of these limited
animation projectors. The Dux Cine apparently had an all metal antecedent in The
Baby Cine. The only example I know of being one I sighted some six years ago in
the Buckingham Movie Museum. My all too brief visit precluded detailed
observance of any one of the multitude of rarities on display however I did
obtain the impression that this was an earlier design than the Dux. Is there a
reader out there who can provide some facts on this device? One
thing appears certain; all of the toy projectors mentioned so far had ancestors
going back to around 1930. What is perhaps more intriguing is the fact that
during that time examples were being marketed which boasted ‘synchronised
sound’, albeit of the lowest imaginable fidelity. IRVING
BERLIN AND THE TOY TALKIES Back
in the mid-1930’s there were several toy ciné projectors manufactured under
such names as the Movie-Jector, and NIC which used the same basic principles as
the later Dux Cine/Dux Kino but utilised a three inch wide paper roll bearing
dual images instead of a 35mm film-strip. They were usually printed in two or
three colours, although I have seen one black and white example. Lit from behind
by an illuminant consisting of a 25-watt domestic light bulb, these films
yielded a reasonable brightness with a projected image approximately 18 inches
wide. Being translucent, the paper roll acted as its own diffuser and no
condenser lenses were required. The
projectors were of tin-plate construction and, like the later Dux, utilised twin
lenses in a ‘biunial’ configuration. A pair of ‘front shutters’
alternatively revealed the top and bottom row of images while the mechanically
linked take-up spool transported the strip horizontally.
From
a 1936 Sears Roebuck catalogue; the Mickey Mouse Talkie Jector (Since penning the above, the author has realised this ambition and his collection is ‘now complete’. - “Oh yes? How often have I heard that?” replies his long suffering wife). About
the time my Mickey Mouse Talkie Jector turned, up a Phonograph collector friend
revealed he owned a similar toy simply designated the Talkie-Jector. The
fundamental difference between it and the Mickey version, was that it had a
manivelle mechanism (music-box collector’s jargon for ‘hand-cranked)’ as
opposed to the clockwork drive provided by the Sears ‘Mouse’ Talkie Jector.
My friend has several filmstrips for it and, most intriguingly, a few of the
six-inch soundtrack records. The discs are double sided and play at the once
customary speed of 78 rpm. Both the paper strips and accompanying discs are
compatible with those of the Sears projectors and were most likely manufactured
by the organisation.
The
quality of the midget soundtrack discs is quite good when played on a
conventional gramophone. Unfortunately the hand turned player attached to the
Talkie-Jector is extremely irregular in speed as well as minimal in its
fidelity, the horn being much too short to produce decent volume or acceptable
bass response. The result is that speech is barely intelligible while the
musical background is totally obscured by wow and flutter. This makes ironic an assertion found in the Sears advertisement that the music on these recordings was composed by none other than Irving Berlin. One can’t help wondering how a composer of this stature could become involved in such an apparently low-key project? Talkie-Jector Listening
to my friend’s examples of these records on reasonable equipment reveals, to
my ears at least, a musical underscore that is both competent and original.
There is however no mention of the composer on any of the labels. All a bit
puzzling wouldn’t you agree? During
the last few years it has become quite obvious to me that there have been many
other makes and models of toy projector utilising the same principles of two
phase animation. Just how many, I am a long way off establishing. So far I have
seen, or at least heard of, about half a dozen others in addition to those
mentioned above. One example is the ‘Uncle Sam Durotone’, manufactured by the ‘Durable Toy and
Novelty Corp. 200 Fifth Avenue New York. This was a gramophone/projector
combination with an oversize paper diagram in place of the usual soundbox/horn
assembly Then,
originally from Spain, comes ‘El
Cine NIC’.
This is possibly the earliest; (it sports a 1929 patent date. It would appear
that the Spanish toy factory NIC (named after its founder; Nicolau
Riba)
was the originator of this style of movie projector. It was also manufactured in
the USA and France. The Nic came in a variety of shapes and sizes some, once
again, with coupled gramophones. There was even one Spanish NIC that provided musical accompaniment, not from a gramophone, but from a simple reed organ under control of perforations on the picture roll! French
NIC Later variants include the French Selic manufacture’s ‘Midi-ciné’ (circa 1960), while from Germany came the ‘Lilliput’ and the ‘Duxette’ (thanks again for finding me the later Mike). All these utilised ‘Dux Kino’ type 35mm films.
All of which I guess brings me to my present situation. Here I am, over 60 years old and earnestly accumulating examples of toy projectors, many of which I would have been embarrassed to be seen with during my teenage years. Well
I suppose; nobody's perfect. End. French
made 'Midi-cine' projector and films
Copyright
Charles Slater 2001
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