Podcasts about Vitaphone

rWotD Episode 2882: The Sap (1929 film) Welcome to Random Wiki of the Day, your journey through Wikipedia’s vast and varied content, one random article at a time.The random article for Tuesday, 25 March 2025 is The Sap (1929 film).The Sap is a 1929 American sound part-talkie comedy film directed by Archie Mayo and written by De Leon Anthony and Robert Lord. In addition to sequences with audible dialogue or talking sequences, the film features a synchronized musical score and sound effects along with English intertitles. The soundtrack was recorded using the Vitaphone sound-on-disc system. The film is based on the 1924 play The Sap by William A. Grew. The film stars Edward Everett Horton, Alan Hale Sr., Patsy Ruth Miller, Russell Simpson, Jerry Mandy and Edna Murphy. The film was released by Warner Bros. on November 9, 1929. This film was the last "part-talkie" produced by the studio.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 00:56 UTC on Tuesday, 25 March 2025.For the full current version of the article, see The Sap (1929 film) on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Mastodon at @wikioftheday@masto.ai.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm generative Danielle.

SynopsisOn today's date in 1927, a landmark film title The Jazz Singer received its premiere showing at the Warner Theater in New York. The Jazz Singer starred Al Jolson and is usually credited with being the first “talkie”—the first motion picture to successfully incorporate prerecorded music and spoken dialogue. Both the music and dialogue were recorded using the Vitaphone process, essentially a set of disc recordings synchronized for playback with the film's projector.The previous year, the New York Philharmonic had participated in the first Vitaphone projects, recording Wagner's Tannhauser overture as the first-ever “music video,” and performing the soundtrack for an otherwise silent drama titled Don Juan, starring John Barrymore.Within a decade, Hollywood orchestras would be recording the classic film scores of European émigré composers like Erich Wolfgang Korngold and Max Steiner, and within two decades American composers like Aaron Copland and Bernard Herrmann would be writing their memorable film scores as well.But back in 1927, all of that was well in the future, and, as one of Al Jolson's lines in The Jazz Singer so prophetically put it, “You ain't heard nothin' yet.”Music Played in Today's ProgramFelix Arndt (1889 – 1918) An Operatic Nightmare (Desecration Rag No. 2) - Paragon Ragtime Orchestra; Rick Benjamin, cond. Newport Classics 60039Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1897 – 1957) The Prince and the Pauper film score - National Philharmonic; Charles Gerhardt, cond. RCA/BMG 0185

Nanna.B is a singer, songwriter and producer originally from Denmark.She first hit the scene with her amazing album "Vitaphone", a completely DIY release. But after realizing the limits her home country could offer her music career she made the move to Los Angeles where she has collaborated with luminaries such as "Shafiq Husayn", "Anderson .Paak" and "Mndsgn".Join us as we dive deeper into Nanna's sound and her creative approaches."Roots to Grooves" is a production of SIGNL.https://www.signlradio.comhttps://www.instagram.com/signlradiohttps://www.twitter.com/signlradiohttps://www.facebook.com/signlradiohttps://www.mixcloud.com/signlhttps://open.spotify.com/user/96mhz6qfjoztxbl2dpm0uj903?si=aAZpsoEnRAKdx85kr1QWhg

▶️ Today's Episode▶️Voiceover as we know it, truly began in 1928 with “Steamboat Willie” but Emile Cohl, won the prize for first hand-drawn animation in 1908 with Fantasmagorie; the first Cartoon ever made. Learn about this - AND MORE - in today's episode.⏱️IN THIS VIDEO⏱️IntroductionReginald FessendenEmile CohlSteamboat WillieVitaphonePhonofilmCinephoneConclusion & Outro

Welcome to our first episode of the new year, which is also our first episode of Season 5. Thank you for continuing to join us on this amazing journey. On today's episode, we head back to Christmas of 1980, when pop music superstar Neil Diamond would be making his feature acting debut in a new version of The Jazz Singer. ----more---- EPISODE TRANSCRIPT From Los Angeles, California, the entertainment capital of the world, this is The 80s Movies Podcast. I am your host, Edward Havens. Thank you for listening today.   It's 2023, which means we are starting our fifth season. And for our first episode of this new season, we're going back to the end of 1980, to take a look back at what was supposed to be the launch of a new phase in the career of one of music's biggest stars. That musical star was Neil Diamond, and this would end up becoming his one and only attempt to act in a motion picture.   We're talking about The Jazz Singer.   As I have said time and time again, I don't really have a plan for this show. I talk about the movies and subjects I talk about often on a whim. I'll hear about something and I'll be reminded of something, and a few days later, I've got an episode researched, written, recorded, edited and out there in the world. As I was working on the previous episode, about The War of the Roses just before my trip to Thailand, I saw a video of Neil Diamond singing Sweet Caroline on opening night of A Beautiful Noise, a new Broadway musical about the life and music of Mr. Diamond. I hadn't noticed Diamond had stopped performing live five years earlier due to a diagnosis of Parkinson's, and it was very touching to watch a thousand people joyously singing along with the man.   But as I was watching that video, I was reminded of The Jazz Singer, a movie we previously covered very lightly three years ago as part of our episode on the distribution company Associated Film Distribution. I was reminded that I haven't seen the movie in over forty years, even though I remember rather enjoying it when it opened in theatres in December 1980. I think I saw it four or five times over the course of a month, and I even went out and bought the soundtrack album, which I easily listened to a hundred times before the start of summer.   But we're getting ahead of ourselves yet again.   The Jazz Singer began its life in 1917, when Samson Raphaelson, a twenty-three year old undergraduate at the University of Illinois, attended a performance of Robinson Crusoe, Jr., in Champaign, IL. The star of that show was thirty-year-old Al Jolson, a Russian-born Jew who had been a popular performer on Broadway stages for fifteen years by this point, regularly performing in blackface. After graduation, Raphaelson would become an advertising executive in New York City, but on the side, he would write stories. One short story, called “The Day of Atonement,” would be a thinly fictionalized account of Al Jolson's life. It would be published in Everybody's Magazine in January 1922.   At the encouragement of his secretary at the advertising firm, Raphaelson would adapted his story into a play, which would be produced on Broadway in September 1925 with a new title…   The Jazz Singer.   Ironically, for a Broadway show based on the early life of Al Jolson, Jolson was not a part of the production. The part of Jake Rabinowitz, the son of a cantor who finds success on Broadway with the Anglicized named Jack Robin, would be played by George Jessel. The play would be a minor hit, running for 303 performances on Broadway before closing in June 1926, and Warner Brothers would buy the movie rights the same week the show closed. George Jessel would be signed to play his stage role in the movie version. The film was scheduled to go into production in May 1927.   There are a number of reasons why Jessel would not end up making the movie. After the success of two Warner movies in 1926 using Vitaphone, a sound-on-disc system that could play music synchronized to a motion picture, Warner Brothers reconcieved The Jazz Singer as a sound movie, but not just a movie with music synchronized to the images on screen, but a “talkie,” where, for the first time for a motion picture, actual dialogue and vocal songs would be synchronized to the pictures on screen. When he learned about this development, Jessel demanded more money.    The Warner Brothers refused.   Then Jessel had some concerns about the solvency of the studio. These would be valid concerns, as Harry Warner, the eldest of the four eponymous brothers who ran the studio, had sold nearly $4m worth of his personal stock to keep the company afloat just a few months earlier.   But what ended up driving Jessel away was a major change screenwriter Alfred A. Cohen made when adapting the original story and the play into the screenplay. Instead of leaving the theatre and becoming a cantor like his father, as it was written for the stage, the movie would end with Jack Robin performing on Broadway in blackface while his mom cheers him on from one of the box seats.   With Jessel off the project, Warner would naturally turn to… Eddie Cantor. Like Al Jolson, Eddie Cantor was a Jew of Russian descent, although, unlike Jolson, he had been born in New York City. Like Jolson, he had been a star on Broadway for years, regularly performing in and writing songs for Florenz Ziegfeld' annual Follies shows. And like Jolson, Cantor would regularly appear on stage in blackface. But Cantor, a friend of Jessel's, instead offered to help the studio get Jessel back on the movie. The studio instead went to their third choice…   Al Jolson.   You know. The guy whose life inspired the darn story to begin with.   Many years later, film historian Robert Carringer would note that, in 1927, George Jessel was a vaudeville comedian with one successful play and one modestly successful movie to his credit, while Jolson was one of the biggest stars in America. In fact, when The Vitaphone Company was trying to convince American studios to try their sound-on-disc system for movies, they would hire Jolson in the fall of 1926 for a ten minute test film. It would be the success of the short film, titled A Plantation Act and featuring Jolson in blackface singing three songs, that would convince Warners to take a chance with The Jazz Singer as the first quote unquote talkie film.   I'll have a link to A Plantation Act on our website, The80sMoviePodcast.com, if you're interested in seeing it.   Al Jolson signed on to play the character inspired by himself for $75,000 in May 1927, the equivalent to $1.28m today. Filming would be pushed back to June 1927, in part due to Jolson still being on tour with another show until the end of the month. Warners would begin production on the film in New York City in late June, starting with second unit shots of the Lower East Side and The Winter Garden Theatre on Broadway, shooting as much as they could until Jolson arrived on set on July 11th.   Now, while the film has been regularly touted for nearly a century now as the first talking motion picture, the truth is, there's very little verbal dialogue in the film. The vast majority of dialogue in the movie was still handled with the traditional silent movie use of caption cards, and the very few scenes featuring what would be synchronized dialogue were saved for the end of production, due to the complexity of how those scenes would be captured. But the film would finish shooting in mid-September.   The $422k movie would have its world premiere at the Warner Brothers theatre in New York City not three weeks later, on October 6th, 1927, where the film would become a sensation. Sadly, none of the Warner Brothers would attend the premiere, as Sam Warner, the strongest advocate for Vitaphone at the studio, had died of pneumonia the night before the premiere, and his remaining brothers stayed in Los Angeles for the funeral. The reviews were outstanding, and the film would bring more than $2.5m in rental fees back to the studio.   At the first Academy Awards, held in May 1929 to honor the films released between August 1927 and July 1928, The Jazz Singer was deemed ineligible for the two highest awards, Outstanding Production, now known as Best Picture, and Unique and Artistic Production, which would only be awarded this one time, on the grounds that it would have been unfair to a sound picture compete against all the other silent films. Ironically, by the time the second Academy Awards were handed out, in April 1930, silent films would practically be a thing of the past. The success of The Jazz Singer had been that much a tectonic shift in the industry. The film would receive one Oscar nomination, for Alfred Cohn's screenplay adaptation, while the Warner Brothers would be given a special award for producing The Jazz Singer, the “pioneer outstanding talking picture which has revolutionized the industry,” as the inscription on the award read.   There would be a remake of The Jazz Singer produced in 1952, starring Danny Thomas as Korean War veteran who, thankfully, leaves the blackface in the past, and a one-hour television adaptation of the story in 1959, starring Jerry Lewis. And if that sounds strange to you, Jerry Lewis, at the height of his post-Lewis and Martin success, playing a man torn between his desire to be a successful performer and his shattered relationship with his cantor father… well, you can see it for yourself, if you desire, on the page for this episode on our website. It is as strange as it sounds.   At this point, we're going to fast forward a number of years in our story.   In the 1970s, Neil Diamond became one of the biggest musical stars in America. While he wanted to be a singer, Diamond would get his first big success in music in the 1960s as a songwriter, including writing two songs that would become big hits for The Monkees: I'm a Believer and A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You.   And really quickly, let me throw out a weird coincidence here… Bob Rafelson, the creator of The Monkees who would go on to produce and/or direct such films as Easy Rider and Five Easy Pieces, was the nephew of Samson Raphaelson, the man who wrote the original story on which The Jazz Singer is based.   Anyway, after finding success as a songwriter, Diamond would become a major singing star with hits like Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon, Sweet Caroline, and Song Sung Blue. And in another weird coincidence, by 1972, Neil Diamond would become the first performer since Al Jolson to stage a one-man show at the Winter Garden Theatre on Broadway.   By 1976, Neil Diamond is hosting specials on television, and one person who would see one of Diamond's television specials was a guy named Jerry Leider, an executive at Warner Brothers in charge of foreign feature production. Leider sees something in Diamond that just night be suited for the movies, not unlike Elvis Presley or Barbra Streisand, who in 1976 just happens to be the star of a remake of A Star Is Born for Warner Brothers that is cleaning up at the box office and at records stores nationwide. Leider is so convinced Neil Diamond has that X Factor, that unquantifiable thing that turns mere mortals into superstars, that Leider quits his job at Warners to start his own movie production company, wrestling the story rights to The Jazz Singer from Warner Brothers and United Artists, both of whom claimed ownership of the story, so he can make his own version with Diamond as the star.   So, naturally, a former Warners Brothers executive wanting to remake one of the most iconic movies in the Warner Brothers library is going to set it up at Warner Brothers, right?   Nope!   In the fall of 1977, Leider makes a deal with MGM to make the movie. Diamond signs on to play the lead, even before a script is written, and screenwriter Stephen H. Foreman is brought in to update the vaudeville-based original story into the modern day while incorporating Diamond's strengths as a songwriter to inform the story. But just before the film was set to shoot in September 1978, MGM would drop the movie, as some executives were worried the film would be perceived as being, and I am quoting Mr. Foreman here, “too Jewish.”   American Film Distribution, the American distribution arm of British production companies ITC and EMI, would pick the film up in turnaround, and set a May 1979 production start date. Sidney J. Furie, the Canadian filmmaker who had directed Diana Ross in Lady Sings the Blues, would be hired to direct, and Jacqueline Bisset was pursued to play the lead female role, but her agent priced their client out of the running. Deborah Raffin would be cast instead. And to help bring the kids in, the producers would sign Sir Laurence Olivier to play Diamond's father, Cantor Rabinovitch. Sir Larry would get a cool million dollars for ten weeks of work.   There would, as always is with the case of making movies, be setbacks that would further delay the start of production. First, Diamond would hurt his back at the end of 1978, and needed to go in for surgery in early January 1979. Although Diamond had already written and recorded all the music that was going to be used in the movie, AFD considered replacing Diamond with Barry Manilow, who had also never starred in a movie before, but they would stick with their original star.   After nearly a year of rest, Diamond was ready to begin, and cameras would roll on the $10m production on January 7th, 1980. And, as always is with the case of making movies, there would be more setbacks as soon as production began. Diamond, uniquely aware of just how little training he had as an actor, struggled to find his place on set, especially when working with an actor of Sir Laurence Olivier's stature. Director Furie, who was never satisfied with the screenplay, ordered writer Foreman to come up with new scenes that would help lessen the burden Diamond was placing on himself and the production. The writer would balk at almost every single suggestion, and eventually walked off the film.   Herbert Baker, an old school screenwriter who had worked on several of the Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis movies, was brought in to punch up the script, but he would end up completely rewriting the film, even though the movie had been in production for a few weeks. Baker and Furie would spend every moment the director wasn't actively working on set reworking the story, changing the Deborah Raffin character so much she would leave the production. Her friend Lucie Arnaz, the daughter of Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball, would take over the role, after Cher, Liza Minnelli and Donna Summer were considered.   Sensing an out of control production, Sir Lew Grade, the British media titan owner of AFD, decided a change was needed. He would shut the production down on March 3rd, 1980, and fire director Furie. While Baker continued to work on the script, Sir Grade would find a new director in Richard Fleischer, the journeyman filmmaker whose credits in the 1950s and 1960s included such films as 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Compulsion, Fantastic Voyage and Doctor Doolittle, but had fallen out of favor with most studios after a string of flops. In fact, this would be the second film in a year where Fleischer was hired to replace another director during the middle of production, having replaced Richard C. Sarafian on the action-adventure film Ashanti in 1979.   With Fleischer aboard, production on The Jazz Singer would resume in late March, and there was an immediate noticeable difference on set. Where Furie and many members of the crew would regularly defer to Diamond due to his stature as an entertainer, letting the singer spiral out of control if things weren't working right, Fleischer would calm the actor down and help work him back into the scene. Except for one scene, set in a recording studio, where Diamond's character needed to explode into anger. After a few takes that didn't go as well as he hoped, Diamond went into the recording booth where his movie band was stationed while Fleischer was resetting the shot, when the director noticed Diamond working himself into a rage. The director called “action,” and Diamond nailed the take as needed. When the director asked Diamond how he got to that moment, the singer said he was frustrated with himself that he wasn't hitting the scene right, and asked the band to play something that would make him angry. The band obliged.    What did they play?   A Barry Manilow song.   Despite the recasting of the leading female role, a change of director and a number of rewrites by two different writers during the production, the film was able to finish shooting at the end of April with only $3m added to the budget.   Associated Film would set a December 19th, 1980 release date for the film, while Capitol Records, owned at the time by EMI, would release the first single from the soundtrack, a soft-rock ballad called Love on the Rocks, in October, with the full soundtrack album arriving in stores a month later.   As expected for a new Neil Diamond song, Love on the Rocks was an immediate hit, climbing the charts all the way to #2 on the Billboard Hot 100.   Several days before the film opened in 241 theatres on December 19th, there was a huge, star-studded premiere at the Plitt Century Plaza Cinemas in Los Angeles. Peter Falk, Harvey Korman, Ed McMahon, Gregory Peck, Cesar Romero and Jon Voight were just a handful of the Hollywood community who came out to attend what was one of the biggest Hollywood premieres in years. That would seem to project a confidence in the movie from the distributor's standpoint.   Or so you'd think.   But as it turned out, The Jazz Singer was one of three movies Associated Film would release that day. Along with The Jazz Singer, they would release the British mystery film The Mirror Crack'd starring Angela Lansbury and Elizabeth Taylor, and the Richard Donner drama Inside Moves. Of the three movies, The Jazz Singer would gross the most that weekend, pulling in a modest $1.167m, versus The Mirror Crack'd's $608k from 340 screens, and Inside Moves's $201k from 67 screens.   But compared to Clint Eastwood's Any Which Way You Can, the Richard Pryor/Gene Wilder comedy Stir Crazy, and Dolly Parton/Lily Tomlin/Jane Fonda comedy 9 to 5, it wasn't the best opening they could hope for.   But the film would continue to play… well, if not exceptional, at least it would hold on to its intended audience for a while. Sensing the film needed some help, Capitol Records released a second single from the soundtrack, another power ballad called Hello Again, in January 1981, which would become yet another top ten hit for Diamond. A third single, the pro-immigration power-pop song America, would arrive in April 1981 and go to number eight on the charts, but by then, the film was out of theatres with a respectable $27.12m in tickets sold.   Contemporary reviews of the film were rather negative, especially towards Diamond as an actor. Roger Ebert noted in his review that there were so many things wrong in the film that the review was threatening to become a list of cinematic atrocities. His review buddy Gene Siskel did praise Lucie Arnaz's performance, while pointing out how out of touch the new story was with the immigrant story told by the original film. Many critics would also point out the cringe-worthy homage to the original film, where Diamond unnecessarily performs in blackface, as well as Olivier's overacting.   I recently watched the film for the first time since 1981, and it's not a great movie by any measurable metric. Diamond isn't as bad an actor as the reviews make him out to be, especially considering he's essentially playing an altered version of himself, a successful pop singer, and Lucie Arnaz is fairly good. The single best performance in the film comes from Caitlin Adams, playing Jess's wife Rivka, who, for me, is the emotional center of the film. And yes, Olivier really goes all-in on the scenery chewing. At times, it's truly painful to watch this great actor spin out of control.   There would be a few awards nominations for the film, including acting nominations for Diamond and Arnaz at the 1981 Golden Globes, and a Grammy nomination for Best Soundtrack Album, but most of its quote unquote awards would come from the atrocious Golden Raspberry organization, which would name Diamond the Worst Actor of the year and Olivier the Worst Supporting Actor during its first quote unquote ceremony, which was held in some guy's living room.   Ironically but not so surprisingly, while the film would be vaguely profitable for its producers, it would be the soundtrack to the movie that would bring in the lion's share of the profits. On top of three hit singles, the soundtrack album would sell more than five million copies just in the United States in 1980 and 1981, and would also go platinum in Canada, South Africa, and the United Kingdom. While he would earn less than half a million dollars from the film, Diamond's cut of the soundtrack would net him a dollar per unit sold, earning him more than ten times his salary as an actor.   And although I fancied myself a punk and new wave kid at the end of 1980, I bought the soundtrack to The Jazz Singer, ostensibly as a gift for my mom, who loved Neil Diamond, but I easily wore out the grooves of the album listening to it over and over again. Of the ten new songs he wrote for the soundtrack, there's a good two or three additional tracks that weren't released as singles, including a short little ragtime-inspired ditty called On the Robert E. Lee, but America is the one song from the soundtrack I am still drawn to today. It's a weirdly uplifting song with its rhythmic “today” chants that end the song that just makes me feel good despite its inherent cheesiness.   After The Jazz Singer, Neil Diamond would only appear as himself in a film. Lucie Arnaz would never quite have much of a career after the film, although she would work quote regularly in television during the 80s and 90s, including a short stint as the star of The Lucie Arnaz Show, which lasted six episodes in 1985 before being cancelled. Laurence Olivier would continue to play supporting roles in a series of not so great motion pictures and television movies and miniseries for several more years, until his passing in 1989. And director Richard Fleischer would make several bad movies, including Red Sonja and Million Dollar Mystery, until he retired from filmmaking in 1987.   As we noted in our February 2020 episode about AFD, the act of releasing three movies on the same day was a last, desperate move in order to pump some much needed capital into the company. And while The Jazz Singer would bring some money in, that wasn't enough to cover the losses from the other two movies released the same day, or several other underperforming films released earlier in the year such as the infamous Village People movie Can't Stop the Music and Raise the Titanic. Sir Lew Grade would close AFD down in early 1981, and sell several movies that were completed, in production or in pre-production to Universal Studios. Ironically, those movies might have saved the company had they been able to hang on a little longer, as they included such films as The Dark Crystal, Frances, On Golden Pond, Sophie's Choice and Tender Mercies.   Thank you for joining us. We'll talk again soon, when Episode 99 is released.   Remember to visit this episode's page on our website, The80sMoviePodcast.com, for extra materials about Neil Diamond and The Jazz Singer.   The 80s Movies Podcast has been researched, written, narrated and edited by Edward Havens for Idiosyncratic Entertainment.   Thank you again.   Good night.

Welcome to our first episode of the new year, which is also our first episode of Season 5. Thank you for continuing to join us on this amazing journey. On today's episode, we head back to Christmas of 1980, when pop music superstar Neil Diamond would be making his feature acting debut in a new version of The Jazz Singer. ----more---- EPISODE TRANSCRIPT From Los Angeles, California, the entertainment capital of the world, this is The 80s Movies Podcast. I am your host, Edward Havens. Thank you for listening today.   It's 2023, which means we are starting our fifth season. And for our first episode of this new season, we're going back to the end of 1980, to take a look back at what was supposed to be the launch of a new phase in the career of one of music's biggest stars. That musical star was Neil Diamond, and this would end up becoming his one and only attempt to act in a motion picture.   We're talking about The Jazz Singer.   As I have said time and time again, I don't really have a plan for this show. I talk about the movies and subjects I talk about often on a whim. I'll hear about something and I'll be reminded of something, and a few days later, I've got an episode researched, written, recorded, edited and out there in the world. As I was working on the previous episode, about The War of the Roses just before my trip to Thailand, I saw a video of Neil Diamond singing Sweet Caroline on opening night of A Beautiful Noise, a new Broadway musical about the life and music of Mr. Diamond. I hadn't noticed Diamond had stopped performing live five years earlier due to a diagnosis of Parkinson's, and it was very touching to watch a thousand people joyously singing along with the man.   But as I was watching that video, I was reminded of The Jazz Singer, a movie we previously covered very lightly three years ago as part of our episode on the distribution company Associated Film Distribution. I was reminded that I haven't seen the movie in over forty years, even though I remember rather enjoying it when it opened in theatres in December 1980. I think I saw it four or five times over the course of a month, and I even went out and bought the soundtrack album, which I easily listened to a hundred times before the start of summer.   But we're getting ahead of ourselves yet again.   The Jazz Singer began its life in 1917, when Samson Raphaelson, a twenty-three year old undergraduate at the University of Illinois, attended a performance of Robinson Crusoe, Jr., in Champaign, IL. The star of that show was thirty-year-old Al Jolson, a Russian-born Jew who had been a popular performer on Broadway stages for fifteen years by this point, regularly performing in blackface. After graduation, Raphaelson would become an advertising executive in New York City, but on the side, he would write stories. One short story, called “The Day of Atonement,” would be a thinly fictionalized account of Al Jolson's life. It would be published in Everybody's Magazine in January 1922.   At the encouragement of his secretary at the advertising firm, Raphaelson would adapted his story into a play, which would be produced on Broadway in September 1925 with a new title…   The Jazz Singer.   Ironically, for a Broadway show based on the early life of Al Jolson, Jolson was not a part of the production. The part of Jake Rabinowitz, the son of a cantor who finds success on Broadway with the Anglicized named Jack Robin, would be played by George Jessel. The play would be a minor hit, running for 303 performances on Broadway before closing in June 1926, and Warner Brothers would buy the movie rights the same week the show closed. George Jessel would be signed to play his stage role in the movie version. The film was scheduled to go into production in May 1927.   There are a number of reasons why Jessel would not end up making the movie. After the success of two Warner movies in 1926 using Vitaphone, a sound-on-disc system that could play music synchronized to a motion picture, Warner Brothers reconcieved The Jazz Singer as a sound movie, but not just a movie with music synchronized to the images on screen, but a “talkie,” where, for the first time for a motion picture, actual dialogue and vocal songs would be synchronized to the pictures on screen. When he learned about this development, Jessel demanded more money.    The Warner Brothers refused.   Then Jessel had some concerns about the solvency of the studio. These would be valid concerns, as Harry Warner, the eldest of the four eponymous brothers who ran the studio, had sold nearly $4m worth of his personal stock to keep the company afloat just a few months earlier.   But what ended up driving Jessel away was a major change screenwriter Alfred A. Cohen made when adapting the original story and the play into the screenplay. Instead of leaving the theatre and becoming a cantor like his father, as it was written for the stage, the movie would end with Jack Robin performing on Broadway in blackface while his mom cheers him on from one of the box seats.   With Jessel off the project, Warner would naturally turn to… Eddie Cantor. Like Al Jolson, Eddie Cantor was a Jew of Russian descent, although, unlike Jolson, he had been born in New York City. Like Jolson, he had been a star on Broadway for years, regularly performing in and writing songs for Florenz Ziegfeld' annual Follies shows. And like Jolson, Cantor would regularly appear on stage in blackface. But Cantor, a friend of Jessel's, instead offered to help the studio get Jessel back on the movie. The studio instead went to their third choice…   Al Jolson.   You know. The guy whose life inspired the darn story to begin with.   Many years later, film historian Robert Carringer would note that, in 1927, George Jessel was a vaudeville comedian with one successful play and one modestly successful movie to his credit, while Jolson was one of the biggest stars in America. In fact, when The Vitaphone Company was trying to convince American studios to try their sound-on-disc system for movies, they would hire Jolson in the fall of 1926 for a ten minute test film. It would be the success of the short film, titled A Plantation Act and featuring Jolson in blackface singing three songs, that would convince Warners to take a chance with The Jazz Singer as the first quote unquote talkie film.   I'll have a link to A Plantation Act on our website, The80sMoviePodcast.com, if you're interested in seeing it.   Al Jolson signed on to play the character inspired by himself for $75,000 in May 1927, the equivalent to $1.28m today. Filming would be pushed back to June 1927, in part due to Jolson still being on tour with another show until the end of the month. Warners would begin production on the film in New York City in late June, starting with second unit shots of the Lower East Side and The Winter Garden Theatre on Broadway, shooting as much as they could until Jolson arrived on set on July 11th.   Now, while the film has been regularly touted for nearly a century now as the first talking motion picture, the truth is, there's very little verbal dialogue in the film. The vast majority of dialogue in the movie was still handled with the traditional silent movie use of caption cards, and the very few scenes featuring what would be synchronized dialogue were saved for the end of production, due to the complexity of how those scenes would be captured. But the film would finish shooting in mid-September.   The $422k movie would have its world premiere at the Warner Brothers theatre in New York City not three weeks later, on October 6th, 1927, where the film would become a sensation. Sadly, none of the Warner Brothers would attend the premiere, as Sam Warner, the strongest advocate for Vitaphone at the studio, had died of pneumonia the night before the premiere, and his remaining brothers stayed in Los Angeles for the funeral. The reviews were outstanding, and the film would bring more than $2.5m in rental fees back to the studio.   At the first Academy Awards, held in May 1929 to honor the films released between August 1927 and July 1928, The Jazz Singer was deemed ineligible for the two highest awards, Outstanding Production, now known as Best Picture, and Unique and Artistic Production, which would only be awarded this one time, on the grounds that it would have been unfair to a sound picture compete against all the other silent films. Ironically, by the time the second Academy Awards were handed out, in April 1930, silent films would practically be a thing of the past. The success of The Jazz Singer had been that much a tectonic shift in the industry. The film would receive one Oscar nomination, for Alfred Cohn's screenplay adaptation, while the Warner Brothers would be given a special award for producing The Jazz Singer, the “pioneer outstanding talking picture which has revolutionized the industry,” as the inscription on the award read.   There would be a remake of The Jazz Singer produced in 1952, starring Danny Thomas as Korean War veteran who, thankfully, leaves the blackface in the past, and a one-hour television adaptation of the story in 1959, starring Jerry Lewis. And if that sounds strange to you, Jerry Lewis, at the height of his post-Lewis and Martin success, playing a man torn between his desire to be a successful performer and his shattered relationship with his cantor father… well, you can see it for yourself, if you desire, on the page for this episode on our website. It is as strange as it sounds.   At this point, we're going to fast forward a number of years in our story.   In the 1970s, Neil Diamond became one of the biggest musical stars in America. While he wanted to be a singer, Diamond would get his first big success in music in the 1960s as a songwriter, including writing two songs that would become big hits for The Monkees: I'm a Believer and A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You.   And really quickly, let me throw out a weird coincidence here… Bob Rafelson, the creator of The Monkees who would go on to produce and/or direct such films as Easy Rider and Five Easy Pieces, was the nephew of Samson Raphaelson, the man who wrote the original story on which The Jazz Singer is based.   Anyway, after finding success as a songwriter, Diamond would become a major singing star with hits like Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon, Sweet Caroline, and Song Sung Blue. And in another weird coincidence, by 1972, Neil Diamond would become the first performer since Al Jolson to stage a one-man show at the Winter Garden Theatre on Broadway.   By 1976, Neil Diamond is hosting specials on television, and one person who would see one of Diamond's television specials was a guy named Jerry Leider, an executive at Warner Brothers in charge of foreign feature production. Leider sees something in Diamond that just night be suited for the movies, not unlike Elvis Presley or Barbra Streisand, who in 1976 just happens to be the star of a remake of A Star Is Born for Warner Brothers that is cleaning up at the box office and at records stores nationwide. Leider is so convinced Neil Diamond has that X Factor, that unquantifiable thing that turns mere mortals into superstars, that Leider quits his job at Warners to start his own movie production company, wrestling the story rights to The Jazz Singer from Warner Brothers and United Artists, both of whom claimed ownership of the story, so he can make his own version with Diamond as the star.   So, naturally, a former Warners Brothers executive wanting to remake one of the most iconic movies in the Warner Brothers library is going to set it up at Warner Brothers, right?   Nope!   In the fall of 1977, Leider makes a deal with MGM to make the movie. Diamond signs on to play the lead, even before a script is written, and screenwriter Stephen H. Foreman is brought in to update the vaudeville-based original story into the modern day while incorporating Diamond's strengths as a songwriter to inform the story. But just before the film was set to shoot in September 1978, MGM would drop the movie, as some executives were worried the film would be perceived as being, and I am quoting Mr. Foreman here, “too Jewish.”   American Film Distribution, the American distribution arm of British production companies ITC and EMI, would pick the film up in turnaround, and set a May 1979 production start date. Sidney J. Furie, the Canadian filmmaker who had directed Diana Ross in Lady Sings the Blues, would be hired to direct, and Jacqueline Bisset was pursued to play the lead female role, but her agent priced their client out of the running. Deborah Raffin would be cast instead. And to help bring the kids in, the producers would sign Sir Laurence Olivier to play Diamond's father, Cantor Rabinovitch. Sir Larry would get a cool million dollars for ten weeks of work.   There would, as always is with the case of making movies, be setbacks that would further delay the start of production. First, Diamond would hurt his back at the end of 1978, and needed to go in for surgery in early January 1979. Although Diamond had already written and recorded all the music that was going to be used in the movie, AFD considered replacing Diamond with Barry Manilow, who had also never starred in a movie before, but they would stick with their original star.   After nearly a year of rest, Diamond was ready to begin, and cameras would roll on the $10m production on January 7th, 1980. And, as always is with the case of making movies, there would be more setbacks as soon as production began. Diamond, uniquely aware of just how little training he had as an actor, struggled to find his place on set, especially when working with an actor of Sir Laurence Olivier's stature. Director Furie, who was never satisfied with the screenplay, ordered writer Foreman to come up with new scenes that would help lessen the burden Diamond was placing on himself and the production. The writer would balk at almost every single suggestion, and eventually walked off the film.   Herbert Baker, an old school screenwriter who had worked on several of the Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis movies, was brought in to punch up the script, but he would end up completely rewriting the film, even though the movie had been in production for a few weeks. Baker and Furie would spend every moment the director wasn't actively working on set reworking the story, changing the Deborah Raffin character so much she would leave the production. Her friend Lucie Arnaz, the daughter of Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball, would take over the role, after Cher, Liza Minnelli and Donna Summer were considered.   Sensing an out of control production, Sir Lew Grade, the British media titan owner of AFD, decided a change was needed. He would shut the production down on March 3rd, 1980, and fire director Furie. While Baker continued to work on the script, Sir Grade would find a new director in Richard Fleischer, the journeyman filmmaker whose credits in the 1950s and 1960s included such films as 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Compulsion, Fantastic Voyage and Doctor Doolittle, but had fallen out of favor with most studios after a string of flops. In fact, this would be the second film in a year where Fleischer was hired to replace another director during the middle of production, having replaced Richard C. Sarafian on the action-adventure film Ashanti in 1979.   With Fleischer aboard, production on The Jazz Singer would resume in late March, and there was an immediate noticeable difference on set. Where Furie and many members of the crew would regularly defer to Diamond due to his stature as an entertainer, letting the singer spiral out of control if things weren't working right, Fleischer would calm the actor down and help work him back into the scene. Except for one scene, set in a recording studio, where Diamond's character needed to explode into anger. After a few takes that didn't go as well as he hoped, Diamond went into the recording booth where his movie band was stationed while Fleischer was resetting the shot, when the director noticed Diamond working himself into a rage. The director called “action,” and Diamond nailed the take as needed. When the director asked Diamond how he got to that moment, the singer said he was frustrated with himself that he wasn't hitting the scene right, and asked the band to play something that would make him angry. The band obliged.    What did they play?   A Barry Manilow song.   Despite the recasting of the leading female role, a change of director and a number of rewrites by two different writers during the production, the film was able to finish shooting at the end of April with only $3m added to the budget.   Associated Film would set a December 19th, 1980 release date for the film, while Capitol Records, owned at the time by EMI, would release the first single from the soundtrack, a soft-rock ballad called Love on the Rocks, in October, with the full soundtrack album arriving in stores a month later.   As expected for a new Neil Diamond song, Love on the Rocks was an immediate hit, climbing the charts all the way to #2 on the Billboard Hot 100.   Several days before the film opened in 241 theatres on December 19th, there was a huge, star-studded premiere at the Plitt Century Plaza Cinemas in Los Angeles. Peter Falk, Harvey Korman, Ed McMahon, Gregory Peck, Cesar Romero and Jon Voight were just a handful of the Hollywood community who came out to attend what was one of the biggest Hollywood premieres in years. That would seem to project a confidence in the movie from the distributor's standpoint.   Or so you'd think.   But as it turned out, The Jazz Singer was one of three movies Associated Film would release that day. Along with The Jazz Singer, they would release the British mystery film The Mirror Crack'd starring Angela Lansbury and Elizabeth Taylor, and the Richard Donner drama Inside Moves. Of the three movies, The Jazz Singer would gross the most that weekend, pulling in a modest $1.167m, versus The Mirror Crack'd's $608k from 340 screens, and Inside Moves's $201k from 67 screens.   But compared to Clint Eastwood's Any Which Way You Can, the Richard Pryor/Gene Wilder comedy Stir Crazy, and Dolly Parton/Lily Tomlin/Jane Fonda comedy 9 to 5, it wasn't the best opening they could hope for.   But the film would continue to play… well, if not exceptional, at least it would hold on to its intended audience for a while. Sensing the film needed some help, Capitol Records released a second single from the soundtrack, another power ballad called Hello Again, in January 1981, which would become yet another top ten hit for Diamond. A third single, the pro-immigration power-pop song America, would arrive in April 1981 and go to number eight on the charts, but by then, the film was out of theatres with a respectable $27.12m in tickets sold.   Contemporary reviews of the film were rather negative, especially towards Diamond as an actor. Roger Ebert noted in his review that there were so many things wrong in the film that the review was threatening to become a list of cinematic atrocities. His review buddy Gene Siskel did praise Lucie Arnaz's performance, while pointing out how out of touch the new story was with the immigrant story told by the original film. Many critics would also point out the cringe-worthy homage to the original film, where Diamond unnecessarily performs in blackface, as well as Olivier's overacting.   I recently watched the film for the first time since 1981, and it's not a great movie by any measurable metric. Diamond isn't as bad an actor as the reviews make him out to be, especially considering he's essentially playing an altered version of himself, a successful pop singer, and Lucie Arnaz is fairly good. The single best performance in the film comes from Caitlin Adams, playing Jess's wife Rivka, who, for me, is the emotional center of the film. And yes, Olivier really goes all-in on the scenery chewing. At times, it's truly painful to watch this great actor spin out of control.   There would be a few awards nominations for the film, including acting nominations for Diamond and Arnaz at the 1981 Golden Globes, and a Grammy nomination for Best Soundtrack Album, but most of its quote unquote awards would come from the atrocious Golden Raspberry organization, which would name Diamond the Worst Actor of the year and Olivier the Worst Supporting Actor during its first quote unquote ceremony, which was held in some guy's living room.   Ironically but not so surprisingly, while the film would be vaguely profitable for its producers, it would be the soundtrack to the movie that would bring in the lion's share of the profits. On top of three hit singles, the soundtrack album would sell more than five million copies just in the United States in 1980 and 1981, and would also go platinum in Canada, South Africa, and the United Kingdom. While he would earn less than half a million dollars from the film, Diamond's cut of the soundtrack would net him a dollar per unit sold, earning him more than ten times his salary as an actor.   And although I fancied myself a punk and new wave kid at the end of 1980, I bought the soundtrack to The Jazz Singer, ostensibly as a gift for my mom, who loved Neil Diamond, but I easily wore out the grooves of the album listening to it over and over again. Of the ten new songs he wrote for the soundtrack, there's a good two or three additional tracks that weren't released as singles, including a short little ragtime-inspired ditty called On the Robert E. Lee, but America is the one song from the soundtrack I am still drawn to today. It's a weirdly uplifting song with its rhythmic “today” chants that end the song that just makes me feel good despite its inherent cheesiness.   After The Jazz Singer, Neil Diamond would only appear as himself in a film. Lucie Arnaz would never quite have much of a career after the film, although she would work quote regularly in television during the 80s and 90s, including a short stint as the star of The Lucie Arnaz Show, which lasted six episodes in 1985 before being cancelled. Laurence Olivier would continue to play supporting roles in a series of not so great motion pictures and television movies and miniseries for several more years, until his passing in 1989. And director Richard Fleischer would make several bad movies, including Red Sonja and Million Dollar Mystery, until he retired from filmmaking in 1987.   As we noted in our February 2020 episode about AFD, the act of releasing three movies on the same day was a last, desperate move in order to pump some much needed capital into the company. And while The Jazz Singer would bring some money in, that wasn't enough to cover the losses from the other two movies released the same day, or several other underperforming films released earlier in the year such as the infamous Village People movie Can't Stop the Music and Raise the Titanic. Sir Lew Grade would close AFD down in early 1981, and sell several movies that were completed, in production or in pre-production to Universal Studios. Ironically, those movies might have saved the company had they been able to hang on a little longer, as they included such films as The Dark Crystal, Frances, On Golden Pond, Sophie's Choice and Tender Mercies.   Thank you for joining us. We'll talk again soon, when Episode 99 is released.   Remember to visit this episode's page on our website, The80sMoviePodcast.com, for extra materials about Neil Diamond and The Jazz Singer.   The 80s Movies Podcast has been researched, written, narrated and edited by Edward Havens for Idiosyncratic Entertainment.   Thank you again.   Good night.

In Conversation Ep. 8 In Conversation, Episode 8 explores the career and life of legendary multi-Oscar, BAFTA, Emmy, and CAS-awarded re-recording mixer and former CAS president Michael Minkler. Moderated by Karol Urban MPSE CAS, the episode explores Michael's 50+ year adventure on the dub stage and his unique perspective as a 3rd generation sound artist with a family history going back to the Vitaphone. Michael recalls his experiences working on such celebrated soundtracks as Black Hawk Down and Chicago, for which he won Oscars, as well as other such as exalted titles, such as Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope and Tron. We garner incredible insight as he explains his approach to understanding his directors, his secret to long-lasting collaborative relationships, his boundless curiosity for technical innovation, and his steadfast commitment to serving the story. Total Running Time: 01:17

Synopsis Works by Henry Kimball Hadley rarely shows up on concert programs anymore, but in the early years of the 20th century, he ranked as a major and very popular American composer. In 1910, Gustav Mahler, during his tenure at the New York Philharmonic, conducted Hadley's tone poem “The Culprit Fay,” and in 1920, Hadley's opera “Cleopatra's Night” was staged at the Metropolitan Opera. But by the time of his death on today's date in 1937, Hadley's full-blown, late-Romantic style was falling out of fashion in the modernist age of Stravinsky and Schoenberg. In other aspects of his musical career, however Hadley was quite avant-garde and forward-looking: In 1921 he became associate conductor of the New York Philharmonic -- the first American-born conductor to hold a full-time post with any major American orchestra. In 1926, he was invited by Warner Brothers to conduct the Philharmonic at the New York premiere of their silent film “Don Juan,” starting the legendary actor John Barrymore, and the following year wrote an original score for a second Barrymore silent feature entitled “When A Man Loves.” Hadley is also credited with making the first symphonic “video,” a 10-minute Vitaphone film of Hadley conducting Wagner's “Tannhauser” Overture that was shown in movie theaters back then and you can still see today via YouTube! Music Played in Today's Program Henry Kimball Hadley (1871–1937) –The Culprit Fay (Ukraine National Symphony; John McLaughlin Williams, cond.) Naxos 8.559064

Os jogos da PSPlus Essencial para Agosto, a resolução de 1440p finalmente no PS5, um novo produto Playstation inesperado para iPhones e a primeira aparição do gameplay de The Last Of Us: Part I.

Eric Grayson has a passion for vintage films and has been working on preserving and restoring them for years. His current project is the King of the Kongo serial and he discusses it with Caroline Breder-Watts in this episode.

Movies have been around since the mid-1890s, but at the start they were “silent” — actors moved their lips but you couldn't hear their words. Audiences read dialogue on cards that interrupted the action. In cinemas, a pianist or orchestra played the soundtrack. This simple formula made Hollywood a cultural force. Silent film actors became stars. Then came Vitaphone. This new technology let audiences hear films with synchronized sound. The sound was played separately from the moving pictures, on phonograph records. Vitaphone could synchronize words with the actors' lips as they spoke. The film that brought Vitaphone to everyone's attention was The Jazz Singer in 1927. It starred Al Jolson as a young Jewish man who left his family to chase his dream of becoming a musical star. He performed many of the movie's songs in blackface — something you could never get away with these days. “Talkies” became wildly popular and spelled doom for the silent era — they were just more rewarding to watch. Silent film stars adapted to the new world of talkies or were left behind. Talkies also helped spread English to all corners of the world. In the silent era, dialogue cards were written in the local language, but there were no on-screen cards in talkies. The films were either dubbed or subtitled. You can see how that helped people learn English in countries like Sweden, which embraced subtitles, compared to countries like Spain and France, which prefer dubbing. (T) This article was provided by The Japan Times Alpha.

El cantor de jazz (The Jazz Singer, 1927, EE. UU.) de Alan Crosland, con Al Jolson, May McAvoy y Warner Oland (88') Presentación: Manuel Hidalgo Rabinowitz quiere ser cantante de jazz. Pero su padre, rabino de una iglesia judía ortodoxa, no ve con buenos ojos las aspiraciones de su hijo, porque aspira a que este continúe la tradición familiar y cante en la sinagoga. Desafiando los deseos paternos, Jakie emprende su carrera en solitario. El cantor de jazz es una película silente durante la mayor parte de su metraje. Sin embargo, sus doce minutos con sonido sincronizado (gracias al entonces revolucionario sistema Vitaphone) bastaron para convertirse en un claro hito en el paso del mudo al sonoro, y ha quedado para la posteridad la fuerza simbólica de uno de esos diálogos: el "¡Aún no han oído nada!" que Al Jolson parece dirigir más a los espectadores que a los personajes del film. Una gran hazaña para una modesta cinta que, de forma apropiada, trata sobre la pugna entre tradición y modernidad. El sábado se proyecta el vídeo de la presentación del día anterior.Más información de este acto

Cine en la Fundación: Los orígenes del cine musical (II). Presentación de "El cantor de jazz" (1927) de Alan Crosland. Manuel Hidalgo. El cantor de jazz (The Jazz Singer, 1927, EE. UU.) de Alan Crosland, con Al Jolson, May McAvoy y Warner Oland (88') Presentación: Manuel Hidalgo Rabinowitz quiere ser cantante de jazz. Pero su padre, rabino de una iglesia judía ortodoxa, no ve con buenos ojos las aspiraciones de su hijo, porque aspira a que este continúe la tradición familiar y cante en la sinagoga. Desafiando los deseos paternos, Jakie emprende su carrera en solitario. El cantor de jazz es una película silente durante la mayor parte de su metraje. Sin embargo, sus doce minutos con sonido sincronizado (gracias al entonces revolucionario sistema Vitaphone) bastaron para convertirse en un claro hito en el paso del mudo al sonoro, y ha quedado para la posteridad la fuerza simbólica de uno de esos diálogos: el "¡Aún no han oído nada!" que Al Jolson parece dirigir más a los espectadores que a los personajes del film. Una gran hazaña para una modesta cinta que, de forma apropiada, trata sobre la pugna entre tradición y modernidad. El sábado se proyecta el vídeo de la presentación del día anterior. Explore en canal.march.es el archivo completo de Conferencias en la Fundación Juan March: casi 3.000 conferencias, disponibles en audio, impartidas desde 1975.

She has sought social justice since her adolescence in Mexico City; equity flows in Laura Pantoja's veins. She shares various episodes of a Mexican youth and migrant maturity from an ironic, wise, and compassionate perspective. Centro Cultural de México http://elcentroculturaldemexico.org/ (http://elcentroculturaldemexico.org/) (bilingual Web page) https://www.latimes.com/socal/daily-pilot/entertainment/story/2021-02-25/el-centro-mexican-cultural-center-homeless-santa-ana (https://www.latimes.com/socal/daily-pilot/entertainment/story/2021-02-25/el-centro-mexican-cultural-center-homeless-santa-ana) (recent article in English) Tito Guízar https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tito_Gu%C3%ADzar (https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tito_Gu%C3%ADzar)  Poppe, Nicolas. "Tito Guízar on Radio Row: Intermediality, Latino identity, and two early 1930s Vitaphone shorts." The Routledge Companion To Gender, Sex And Latin American Culture. Routledge, 2018. 91-100. Irwin, R. M. y Castro Ricalde, M. (2013). Global Mexican Cinema. Its Golden Age. London: British Film Institute, Palgrave MacMillan. Internal migration in Mexico https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demograf%C3%ADa_de_la_Ciudad_de_M%C3%A9xico (https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demograf%C3%ADa_de_la_Ciudad_de_M%C3%A9xico)  https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%81reas_metropolitanas_de_M%C3%A9xico (https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%81reas_metropolitanas_de_M%C3%A9xico)  Villarreal, Andrés, and Erin R. Hamilton. "Rush to the border? Market liberalization and urban-and rural-origin internal migration in Mexico." Social science research 41.5 (2012): 1275-1291. Lágrimas y risas  (comic book series) Todo en español https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%C3%A1grimas,_risas_y_amor#Caracter%C3%ADsticas (https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%C3%A1grimas,_risas_y_amor#Caracter%C3%ADsticas) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_pecado_de_Oyuki_(comics) (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_pecado_de_Oyuki_(comics)) Cri Cri (Francisco Gabilondo Soler) There appears to be no substantial work in English on Cri Cri. See the references below for more information. Alcaráz, José Antonio. Cri-Crí: el mensajero de la alegría. Veracruz: Instituto Veracruzano de Cultura, 1998. Colina, José de la. «Prólogo» en Cri-Crí: canciones completas de Francisco Gabilondo Soler. México: Clío, 2001. Desachy-Godoy, Elvira. Cri-Crí: El mundo creativo de Francisco José Gabilondo Soler. The University of New Mexico, 1998. García, Elvira. De lunas garapiñadas: Cri-Cri. México: Radio Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, 1982. ‍ «¿Quién es el que anduvo aquí?» en Tierra adentro. Días de radio, México: n° 137-138, diciembre 2005: 97-99. García, Óscar Armando. “Poética literaria y musical de Francisco Gabilondo Soler ‘Cri-crí.'“ América sin Nombre - 2015, N. 20. Te voy a contar un cuento. Sobre la literatura infantil y juvenil  VV AA: Cri-Crí: canciones completas de Francisco Gabilondo Soler. México: Clío, 2001. Silvio Rodríguez “Cuban troubadour Silvio Rodríguez speaks out” | People's World (https://www.peoplesworld.org/article/cuban-troubadour-silvio-rodriguez-speaks-out/ (https://www.peoplesworld.org/article/cuban-troubadour-silvio-rodriguez-speaks-out/)) “Silvio Rodríguez” | Discogs (https://www.discogs.com/artist/400811-Silvio-Rodr%C3%ADguez (https://www.discogs.com/artist/400811-Silvio-Rodr%C3%ADguez))  “Silvio Rodríguez” | NPR (https://www.npr.org/artists/801185470/silvio-rodr-guez (https://www.npr.org/artists/801185470/silvio-rodr-guez))

Desde la adolescencia en el D.F. ha abogado por la justicia social: corre la equidad en la sangre de Laura Pantoja. Nos comparte varios episodios de una juventud mexicana y madurez migrante, desde un punto de vista irónico, sabio, y compasivo. Centro Cultural de México http://elcentroculturaldemexico.org/ (http://elcentroculturaldemexico.org/) (bilingual Web page) https://www.latimes.com/socal/daily-pilot/entertainment/story/2021-02-25/el-centro-mexican-cultural-center-homeless-santa-ana (https://www.latimes.com/socal/daily-pilot/entertainment/story/2021-02-25/el-centro-mexican-cultural-center-homeless-santa-ana) (recent article in English) Tito Guízar https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tito_Gu%C3%ADzar (https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tito_Gu%C3%ADzar)  Poppe, Nicolas. "Tito Guízar on Radio Row: Intermediality, Latino identity, and two early 1930s Vitaphone shorts." The Routledge Companion To Gender, Sex And Latin American Culture. Routledge, 2018. 91-100. Irwin, R. M. y Castro Ricalde, M. (2013). Global Mexican Cinema. Its Golden Age. London: British Film Institute, Palgrave MacMillan. La migración interna en México https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demograf%C3%ADa_de_la_Ciudad_de_M%C3%A9xico (https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demograf%C3%ADa_de_la_Ciudad_de_M%C3%A9xico)  https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%81reas_metropolitanas_de_M%C3%A9xico (https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%81reas_metropolitanas_de_M%C3%A9xico)  Villarreal, Andrés, and Erin R. Hamilton. "Rush to the border? Market liberalization and urban-and rural-origin internal migration in Mexico." Social science research 41.5 (2012): 1275-1291. Lágrimas y risas (revista de cómic) Todo en español https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%C3%A1grimas,_risas_y_amor#Caracter%C3%ADsticas (https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%C3%A1grimas,_risas_y_amor#Caracter%C3%ADsticas) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_pecado_de_Oyuki_(comics) (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_pecado_de_Oyuki_(comics)) Cri Cri (Francisco Gabilondo Soler) Todo en español. Alcaráz, José Antonio. Cri-Crí: el mensajero de la alegría. Veracruz: Instituto Veracruzano de Cultura, 1998. Colina, José de la. «Prólogo» en Cri-Crí: canciones completas de Francisco Gabilondo Soler. México: Clío, 2001. Desachy-Godoy, Elvira. Cri-Crí: El mundo creativo de Francisco José Gabilondo Soler. The University of New Mexico, 1998. García, Elvira. De lunas garapiñadas: Cri-Cri. México: Radio Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, 1982. ----------------- «¿Quién es el que anduvo aquí?» en Tierra adentro. Días de radio, México: n° 137-138, diciembre 2005: 97-99. García, Óscar Armando. “Poética literaria y musical de Francisco Gabilondo Soler ‘Cri-crí.'“ América sin Nombre - 2015, N. 20. Te voy a contar un cuento. Sobre la literatura infantil y juvenil  VV AA: Cri-Crí: canciones completas de Francisco Gabilondo Soler. México: Clío, 2001. Silvio Rodríguez “Cuban troubadour Silvio Rodríguez speaks out” | People's World (https://www.peoplesworld.org/article/cuban-troubadour-silvio-rodriguez-speaks-out/ (https://www.peoplesworld.org/article/cuban-troubadour-silvio-rodriguez-speaks-out/)) “Silvio Rodríguez” | Discogs (https://www.discogs.com/artist/400811-Silvio-Rodr%C3%ADguez (https://www.discogs.com/artist/400811-Silvio-Rodr%C3%ADguez))  “Silvio Rodríguez” | NPR (https://www.npr.org/artists/801185470/silvio-rodr-guez (https://www.npr.org/artists/801185470/silvio-rodr-guez))

Don Juan (1926, EE. UU.) de Alan Crosland, con John Barrymore, Mary Astor y Warner Oland (112') Presentación: Luis Martínez En la Roma dominada por la familia Borgia, Don Juan vive sus aventuras amorosas usando y desechando a las mujeres a su antojo. Sin embargo, cuando se sitúa en el punto de mira de la maquiavélica Lucrecia Borgia, se ve envuelto en una red de intrigas y complots que amenazan su vida. Un año antes de que Al Jolson pronunciara en El cantor de jazz su célebre "¡Aún no han oído nada!", el sistema Vitaphone ya se utilizaba para incorporar sonido a las películas, si bien de forma tentativa y parcial. El mismo director de aquella, Alan Crosland, concibió y filmó este Don Juan enteramente como una cinta muda (sus diálogos son aún íntegramente en forma de intertítulos), pero posteriormente se le añadió una banda sonora completa de música y efectos sonoros sincronizados con la imagen. El sábado se proyecta el vídeo de la presentación del día anterior.Más información de este acto

Cine en la Fundación: Los orígenes del cine musical (I). Presentación de "Don Juan" (1926) de Alan Crosland. Luis Martínez. Don Juan (1926, EE. UU.) de Alan Crosland, con John Barrymore, Mary Astor y Warner Oland (112') Presentación: Luis Martínez En la Roma dominada por la familia Borgia, Don Juan vive sus aventuras amorosas usando y desechando a las mujeres a su antojo. Sin embargo, cuando se sitúa en el punto de mira de la maquiavélica Lucrecia Borgia, se ve envuelto en una red de intrigas y complots que amenazan su vida. Un año antes de que Al Jolson pronunciara en El cantor de jazz su célebre "¡Aún no han oído nada!", el sistema Vitaphone ya se utilizaba para incorporar sonido a las películas, si bien de forma tentativa y parcial. El mismo director de aquella, Alan Crosland, concibió y filmó este Don Juan enteramente como una cinta muda (sus diálogos son aún íntegramente en forma de intertítulos), pero posteriormente se le añadió una banda sonora completa de música y efectos sonoros sincronizados con la imagen. El sábado se proyecta el vídeo de la presentación del día anterior. Explore en www.march.es/conferencias/anteriores el archivo completo de Conferencias en la Fundación Juan March: casi 3.000 conferencias, disponibles en audio, impartidas desde 1975.

Ngày 20 tháng 4 có những thông tin chính sau: SỰ KIỆN 1534 – Theo ủy thác của Quốc vương Pháp, Jacques Cartier căng buồm đi tìm hành lang phía tây để đến châu Á. 1535 - Hiện tượng mặt trời giả được quan sát thấy ở Stockholm , sau này được mô tả trong bức tranh nổi tiếng Vädersolstavlan . 1926 – Western Electric và Warner Brothers quảng cáo Vitaphone, phương pháp cho để làm phim có tiếng. 2008 - Danica Patrick vô địch Indy Japan 300, trở thành tay đua nữ đầu tiên trong lịch sử vô địch giải đua xe Indy . Sinh 1808 - Napoléon đệ tam , Tổng thống đầu tiên của Pháp (mất năm 1873) 1889 - Adolf Hitler, trùm phát xít Đức 1966 - David Filo, doanh nhân người Mỹ, đồng sáng lập Yahoo! 1972 - Lê Huỳnh Đức , cầu thủ, huấn luyện viên và quản lý bóng đá Việt Nam 1983 – Trường Giang, diễn viên, MC Việt Nam. 1983 – Miranda Kerr, người mẫu người Úc. Mất 1918 - Karl Ferdinand Braun , nhà vật lý và học giả người Mỹ gốc Đức, người đoạt giải Nobel (sinh năm 1850) Braun đã đóng góp đáng kể vào sự phát triển của công nghệ phát thanh và truyền hình 2018 - Avicii , DJ và nhạc sĩ Thụy Điển (sinh năm 1989) Ủng hộ chúng tôi bằng cách like và share video này bạn nhé. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/aweek-tv/message

On today’s date in 1927, a landmark film entitled “The Jazz Singer” received its premiere showing at the Warner Theater in New York. “The Jazz Singer” starred Al Jolson and is usually credited with being the first “talkie”—the first motion picture to successfully incorporate prerecorded music and spoken dialogue. Both the music and dialogue were recorded using the Vitaphone process, essentially a set of disc recordings synchronized for playback with the film’s projector. The previous year, the New York Philharmonic had participated in the first Vitaphone projects, recording Wagner’s “Tannhauser” overture as the first-ever “music video,” and performing the soundtrack for an otherwise silent drama entitled “Don Juan,” starring John Barrymore. Within a decade, Hollywood orchestras would be recording the classic film scores of European émigré composers like Erich Wolfgang Korngold and Max Steiner, and within two decades American composers like Aaron Copland and Bernard Herrmann would be writing their memorable film scores as well. But back in 1927, all of that was well in the future, and, as one of Al Jolson’s lines in “The Jazz Singer” so prophetically put it, “You ain’t heard nothin’ yet.”

On today’s date in 1927, a landmark film entitled “The Jazz Singer” received its premiere showing at the Warner Theater in New York. “The Jazz Singer” starred Al Jolson and is usually credited with being the first “talkie”—the first motion picture to successfully incorporate prerecorded music and spoken dialogue. Both the music and dialogue were recorded using the Vitaphone process, essentially a set of disc recordings synchronized for playback with the film’s projector. The previous year, the New York Philharmonic had participated in the first Vitaphone projects, recording Wagner’s “Tannhauser” overture as the first-ever “music video,” and performing the soundtrack for an otherwise silent drama entitled “Don Juan,” starring John Barrymore. Within a decade, Hollywood orchestras would be recording the classic film scores of European émigré composers like Erich Wolfgang Korngold and Max Steiner, and within two decades American composers like Aaron Copland and Bernard Herrmann would be writing their memorable film scores as well. But back in 1927, all of that was well in the future, and, as one of Al Jolson’s lines in “The Jazz Singer” so prophetically put it, “You ain’t heard nothin’ yet.”

Today in history: -Gertrude Ederly swims across English Channel. -Warner Brothers premieres Vitaphone. -Enola Gay drops atomic bomb on Hiroshima. -Birthdays See omnystudio.com/policies/listener for privacy information.

The current COVID pandemic has taken its toll on performing arts organizations and performing artists. In hopes to support these artists who are critical to our success, we have created TOCA To Go. A way to support local artists and TOCA. Do you know someone who is missing the excitement of a live performance? Got a special occasion that you want to celebrate or need a special gift you want to send to someone? Try TOCA TO GO! With just a few clicks, we will send a performer to your home, place of work or to their email inbox. Laura Ellis is one of the performers you can hire. A singer, actress, and recording artist, Laura Ellis is known for her beautiful voice, her vintage vocal styling, and her sparkling stage presence Laura performs across country in her touring productions. With her retro jazz flair, she has graced cabaret and concert stages including the famed Jazz Alley in Seattle, Feinstein’s at the Nikko in San Francisco, and the Moonlight Amphitheatre in Vista, CA. Her broadcast credits include History Channel’s Route 66 and Modern Marvels documentaries, the HBO Carnivale series, and ABC’s Modern Family. In recent years, she has starred as the singing voice of the adventurous, Kat Knight, on the video game Contrast, by Compulsion Games, downloaded more than 1.5 million times. Her most recent recording, Broken, Lovely, was in consideration for a Best Vocal Jazz Grammy in 2016. Additional performers who are a part of TOCA To Go are: Janet Klein Janet is the very definition of an “old soul”. Growing up in a region of Southern California where the last vestiges of the “California Dream” were still barely in tact as strip malls proliferated, she linked historical images she’d seen of early turn-of-the century postcards with bungalows along palm lined streets, orange groves, grand Mission style hotels & onion-domed libraries- the way things were got into her blood, and today she’s the most refreshing anachronism to every materialize from the ether of the Prohibition. Klein doesn’t merely perform songs from “ lost America” –she actually lives them, and transports her audiences along the way. Klein considers herself a “musical archeologist and treasure hunter” digging up compositions by the likes of Wilton Crawley and A.P. Randolf and Robert Cloud, songs of the Victrola and lost Vitaphone films. She and her LA based band the Parlor Boys authentically resuscitate early jazz of the 1920s and 1930s with wild spirit, vigor and grand skill. SEND A TAIKO PERFORMANCE Yuta Kato Yuta Kato was born and raised in California to a Japanese speaking family.  Introduced to taiko by Kagami-Kai, a local rice-pouding group, he decided to further his studies with San Francisco Taiko Dojo at the age of 10. Since then he has been a part of UCLA Kyodo Taiko, Nihon Taiko Dojo, Getsuyoukai, and professional groups: TAIKOPROJECT, ON Ensemble, and Portland Taiko, Unit Souzou. From Fall 2007 until Winter 2011, he resided in Japan to study under masters of various traditional Japanese music. Upon returning to the US in 2011, he served as Coordinator for the 2011 North American Taiko Conference at Stanford University. Kato now focuses his attention to teaching taiko and currently resides in California serving as the principal and instructor for LATI (Los Angeles Taiko Institute) housed at  Asano Taiko US, which opened in 2013. He performs as a member of UnitOne (Torrance, CA). Isaku Kageyama Isaku Kageyama is a taiko performer, educator, and recording artist currently working with Asano Taiko US, Los Angeles Taiko Institute, and UnitOne.  His resume includes performances on networks such as NBC and VH1, venues such as Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center, and tours of across North, South, and Central America, Asia, the Middle East and Europe. Julia Asano Trio Julia Asano, then Julia Kato, began her taiko career under the tutelage of Seiichi Tanaka as a member of San Francisco Taiko Dojo Rising Stars Dream Team.  She was also a performing member of TAIKOPROJECT in 2005 and 2006 before moving to Japan and marrying into the drum-making Asano family.  She helped found Asano Taiko U.S., teaches at Los Angeles Taiko Institute, and performs with the Asano Taiko U.S. resident ensemble, UnitOne.

Los Hermanos Marx estrenaron la película cómica “Una noche en Casablanca” en 1946. Cuando estaban por sacarla, recibieron una amenaza legal de la Warner Brothers por el uso de la palabra “Casablanca”, que se había estrenado cuatro años antes. Aunque claro, el reclamo era ridículo. Antes que cualquier película, Casablanca es el nombre de una ciudad en el oeste de Marruecos. ¿Cómo respondieron los Marx? Con esta carta, escrita por el brillante Groucho. Después de este texto y de otros con similar tono de burla, la Warner no se quejó más. Y la película se llamó, finalmente, “Una noche en Casablanca”. Lee el cómico y guionista Arturo González-Campos. ****** Queridos Warner Brothers: Al parecer hay más de una forma de conquistar una ciudad y de mantenerla bajo el dominio propio. Por ejemplo, hasta el momento en que pensamos en hacer esta película, no tenía la menor idea de que la ciudad de Casablanca perteneciera exclusivamente a los Warner Brothers. Sin embargo, pocos días después de anunciar nuestra película recibimos su largo y ominoso documento legal en el que se nos conminaba a no utilizar el nombre de Casablanca. Parece ser que en 1471, Ferdinand Balboa Warner, su tatarabuelo, al buscar un atajo hasta la ciudad de Burbank, se tropezó con las costas de Africa y, levantando su bastón (que más tarde cambió por un centenar de acciones en la bolsa), las denominó Casablanca. Sencillamente, no comprendo su actitud. Aun cuando pensaran en la reposición de su película, estoy seguro de que el aficionado medio al cine aprendería oportunamente a distinguir entre Ingrid Bergman y Harpo. No sé si yo podría, pero desde luego me gustaría intentarlo. Ustedes reivindican su Casablanca y pretenden que nadie más pueda utilizar ese nombre sin permiso. ¿Qué me dicen de Warner Brothers? ¿Es de su propiedad también? Probablemente tengan ustedes el derecho de utilizar el nombre de Warner, pero, ¿y el de Brothers? Profesionalmente, nosotros éramos Brothers mucho antes que ustedes. Hacíamos ya la ronda de las candilejas como The Marx Brothers cuando la Vitaphone era todavía un simple destello en el ojo del inventor, e incluso antes de nosotros ha habido otros hermanos: los Smith Brothers (fabricantes de pastillas para la tos), los Karamazov Brothers; Dan Brothers, un centrocampista del Detroit; y Brother, can you spare me a dime? (que originalmente se llamaba Brothers, can you spare me a dime? pero esto era reducir demasiado la moneda, así que despacharon a un hermano, dieron todo el dinero al otro y lo dejaron en Brother, can you spare me a dime?). Y ahora, Jack, hablemos de usted. ¿Diría Usted que es el suyo un nombre original? Pues no lo es. Se utilizaba mucho antes de nacer usted. Sobre la marcha, recuerdo dos Jacks: había el Jack de Jack and the beantalk (cuento infantil) y el Jack el Destripador, que se hizo un bonito renombre en su día. En cuanto a usted, Harry, seguramente firmará sus cheques con la firme convicción de que es usted el primer Harry de todos los tiempos y de que todos los demás Harrys son impostores. Recuerdo a dos Harrys que le precedieron. Existió Lighthouse Harry de fama revolucionaria [se refiere a Light Horse Harry y también un Harry Appelbaum que vivía en la esquina de la calle 93 con Lexington Avenue. Desgraciadamente, Appelbaum no era demasiado conocido. La última vez que supe de él, vendía corbatas en Weber y Heilbroner. Seguir leyendo...

1 December 2019 First Sunday of Advent Matthew 24:37-44 + Homily 18 Minutes 11 Seconds Link to the Readings: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/120119.cfm (New American Bible, Revised Edition) From the parish bulletin:   Given the many theatres that are or have been within walking distance of our church on 34th Street, it is not possible to count the number of times stage curtains have come down on a final act. One block away from us is the theatre built by Oscar Hammerstein, to compete with the old Metropolitan Opera House up on Broadway at 39th. Here on 34th Street, in what is now called the Manhattan Center, the Vitaphone sound system was used in 1926 to record the first soundtrack for a moving picture,Don Juan. Before the old Met’s gold damask curtain came down for the last time at 39th and Broadway in 1966, the greatest Madama Butterfly, Licia Albanese, who once sang in my former church,  rendered her last “Un bel dì” and then kissed with her hand the floorboards of the stage as the curtain came down before a weeping audience.    In another venue, my grandmother had a vivid recollection of the consternation at the old Hippodrome up on 43rd Street in the late 1920’s when the curtain collapsed on the child star Baby Rose Marie. That forerunner to Shirley Temple survived and lived to be 94. Albanese was still singing when she died in 2014 at the age of 105.    So curtains fall sooner or later, and we have Advent to remind us of that. The superficiality of a life may be measured by how seriously one takes Advent’s four themes of Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell. Advent proclaims that a curtain is falling, even if a premature Christmas celebration with bells and elves, beginning with the Macy’s parade (two blocks east of our church), fabricates a distraction from that.    If thought is not deep, there will be no real joy when the mysteries of God are disclosed. The bane of our times, and possibly of all times, is superficiality. This was illustrated at a synod of bishops in Rome in 2015, when papers of a politically correct nature were read, one after another repeating clichés to address the world’s problems. One consultant broke through the soporific jargon. Dr. Anca Maria Cernea, a prominent Romanian physician, whose father had been imprisoned by Communists for seventeen years, said: “The Church’s mission is to save souls. Evil, in this world, comes from sin. Not from income disparity or “climate change.” The solution is: Evangelization. Conversion. Not an ever-increasing government control. Not a world government. These are nowadays the main agents imposing cultural Marxism on our nations, under the form of population control, reproductive health, gay rights, gender education, and so on. What the world needs nowadays is not limitation of freedom, but real freedom, liberation from sin. Salvation.” In the darkening days of Advent, the curtain falls on the old man, in sure and certain hope that it will rise for those who believe that there is born in Bethlehem the Savior, who will die in order to rise. 

Meditation Oasis is a podcast produced by Mary and Richard Maddox who have been composing meditation music for a very long time. They now have apps that can help you sleep, practice walking meditation and even teach you how to meditate. Jenny Lawson as a new book that is one part inspiration, art therapy and discovery.    If you're having suicidal thoughts, contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline for immediate help: 1-800-273-TALK (8255) Resourcees Mentioned: National Mental Health month from Mental Health America. Their focus this year is on risky behaviors that people tend to use to self medicate.  Instagram has a special web page that focuses on Instagramers and mental health concerns Actress Emma Stone speaking about what she would tell her younger self about anxiety.  MarketWatch article on what young adults are spending on their mental health treatments. Meditation Oasis Podcast where there are dozens of meditations to listen to and use as part of your treatment process. If you are looking for a specific meditation app such as sleeping, walking mediation or affirmations Meditation Oasis has an app page for Kindle, iOS and Android users. Jenny Lawson's inspirational book, doodle guide and art therapy book You Are here; An Owner's Manual for Dangerous Minds. Publisher is Flatiron Books, a division of Macmillan  Vitaphone recording of Gracie Allen along with her life partner George Burns in Lambchops. Disclaimer: Links to other sites are provided for information purposes only and do not constitute endorsements. Always seek the advice of a qualified health provider with questions you may have regarding a medical or mental health disorder. This blog and podcast is intended for informational and educational purposes only. Nothing in this program is intended to be a substitute for professional psychological, psychiatric or medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. 

L'histoire du cinéma sonore débute véritablement avec les premiers films dialogués qui marquent une transformation fondamentale du langage filmique. Une nouvelle forme de narration naît avec Le Chanteur de Jazz, et d'une manière plus significative encore avec L'Ange bleu ou Lights of New-York. A partir des équipements Vitaphone de la Western Electric de 1927 (le projecteur à disque, le premier haut-parleur de l'histoire du cinéma), jusqu'au système RCA Photophone mis au point pour Orson Welles en 1940, les sons du cinéma parlant seront présentés et diffusés dans leur forme originelle lors de cette conférence, ce qui permettra une comparaison inédite et spectaculaire des différents systèmes. Des premiers balbutiements des années Vingt à la Seconde Guerre mondiale, nous retracerons à travers ces projections la révolution sonore des techniques, ses implications pour l'industrie du cinéma et l'évolution des standards qui découlèrent de ces nouveaux procédés. Des appareils anciens et rarissimes seront exposés. Jean-Pierre Verscheure est professeur à l'Institut National Supérieur des Arts du Spectacle (INSAS) de Bruxelles. Collectionneur d'appareils cinématographiques, il est à l'origine d'un centre d'études sur les techniques cinématographiques, Cinévolution, dans lequel plus d'une quarantaine d'installations sonores ou visuelles d'époque ont pu être restituées permettant de présenter les films dans leurs conditions de projection d'origine.