The Thief of Bagdad (1924)

The walls of Bagdad are so high that to convey their immensity is to reduce the actors before them to squirrels, scurrying at the base of the screen. Within those walls is a city so seemingly vast that we do not witness its parts so much as explore them—moving not just right and left as we do, forward and back; but down: to its catacombs and sewers, and up to the lofty heights of its castle spires and tallest trees. Among the beings inhabiting the city is represented every race; every type: lithe and fleet; muscular and powerful; sedentary and fat; young, old, ugly, beautiful. And beyond the city lies every challenge, real or fantastically imaginary, that an adventurer in a long-lost time might hope, or fear, to encounter. Douglas Fairbanks called The Thief of Bagdad his best film. He was right.

The Right sTUFF

Oh, I am NOT famous for my title-writing skills. But no matter. With this post, let me guide you to the official website of the Toronto Urban Film Festival (TUFF); an event showcasing something near and dear to me: modern silent films.

TUFF films, one minute long, can be seen on the speakerless video boards that sit overhead of Toronto subway riders. The boards' mundane, but necessary purpose is to convey information to subway riders--arrival times, track delays, weather, etc. But the men and women who submit their films to TUFF do so out of pure artistic intent, and so the boards become canvasses for them. Best of all, the films are designed for these boards, not simply adapted to them, so the directors are deliberately working in the silent medium.

I'll write much more about TUFF in this space--the festival doesn't begin until September 10, 2010--but please have a look at the website now. Not just because the call for entries has begun, but because my writing now appears there. You can check out my essay, 'Heirs to a Great Tradition,' by clicking HERE.

See? Told you silent films weren't dead.  ;)