Full Program DescriptionGreat Escape
The world forgets its troubles and falls in love with the movies
Original broadcast: Tuesday, April 21 at 9pm
(check local listings for re-broadcast dates)
By the mid-1920s, millions are already confirmed "moviegoers." Movies reflected and affected the way people thought, dressed, and carried themselves, transporting images of Western culture around the globe. Stars became objects of admiration and imitation, teaching the inexperienced about romantic love, courage -- and the proper cut of a Western suit. This new mass entertainment also proved a powerful tool for governments around the globe -- an unrivaled tool of mass persuasion.
Great Escape traces the story of how, in the first fifty years of the century, the cinema grew from a mere novelty into the most popular and profoundly influential medium in the world. In Great Escape, moviegoers remember how films influenced the way they walked, talked, and romanced.
Great Escape opens in New York, October 1927, with the premiere of The Jazz Singer and a new revolution in cinema: the talking picture -- an exciting and lucrative development. For most, anyway. Danny Patt, a young pianist and silent film accompanist in 1927, remembers: "When The Jazz Singer came out, it was a very sad occasion for me. I loved my work, and when I realized that that part of my career was nipped in the bud, I was full of grief."
Movies had already come a long way from the simple domestic scenes people paid to watch at the turn of the century, when the Lumière brothers projected flickering scenes of daily life onto a café wall in Paris. Much cheaper than live entertainment, movies quickly became the preferred pastime in cities across Europe and the United States. Moviegoer Abe Lass of New York City remembers when "it was three for a dime. It was worth three million dollars rather than three cents [for] the excitement and the escape it provided. . . . Our lives were pretty constricted, pretty limited, pretty unimaginative, and pretty unromantic -- and here we found everything."
In 1910, over 10,000 Nickelodeons operated across the United States and Europe; twenty-six million Americans went to the movies each week Program Five. With their growing popularity, films were soon produced the world over -- from the US to Europe to Asia. Rajam Ramanathan remembers watching early movies in India: "It was as though gods appeared in front of us. My grandmother would even pat her cheeks in penance whenever Rama or Krishna showed up on the screen. . . . We were fascinated by the cinema. It was amazing to see pictures dancing on the screen. It was our biggest excitement."
They were entertaining and, because they were silent, easily exportable -- the eloquent pantomime of international stars like Charlie Chaplin understood by moviegoers everywhere.
The First World War devastated film production in Europe; the industry was put on hold while nations rebuilt. So began the period of Hollywood's domination. With a steady diet of American films, Europeans were introduced to the American Dream; Italy's Lisetta Salis remembers "the American films with these perfect houses, with their well-dressed women who were very attractive. The first time I ever saw a telephone, a car, skyscrapers! Really, the cinema was a great emotional experience."
Moviegoers also studied romance on the big screen. Italy's Duilia Bartoli: "I learned to kiss and hug at the movies. It was beautiful because it was innocent love and we learned it by watching movies, because otherwise, what would you do? My parents never kissed in front of me. Such things didn't happen." And India's Nimmal Vellani: "If I had not gone to the cinema so often as I was allowed, I don't think I would have had romance in my life. I would have been just married off like an ordinary girl to the man of my grandfather's choice."
Michel Angel first fell in love at a Paris movie house: "Roughly all I remember is Miriam Hopkins.
I don't know if it's because of the legs of Miriam Hopkins, or the story, but I didn't sleep for two nights after I had gone to this film. . . . I was ten."
During the Depression, millions sought refuge in the cinema to forget about their problems. Spectacular movie palaces were built to seat upwards of 5,000 ticket holders and were outfitted in luxury many people had never experienced. But even in humbler surroundings, it would be the films themselves that would provide the greatest escape. Kitty Carlisle Hart was a student in Paris in the late 1920s and remembers: "[Films] were make believe and they were the world that people didn't have, but that they wanted. . . . They were living in terrible, terrible circumstances -- so this was the total escape."
During the Second World War, the medium would prove a powerful outlet for propaganda -- a soapbox for political demagogues. Nazi propaganda chief, Joseph Goebbels, an enthusiastic student of Hollywood moviemaking, used party-line documentaries and lavish commissioned musicals to promote German patriotism. Under Benito Mussolini, Italy's state-financed movie studios produced films supporting fascist values. And, on the heels of Pearl Harbor, Hollywood was drafted to make films designed to motivate American
As projectionist for his Coast Guard unit, Cy Locke showed Know Your Enemy: Japan, a film he still remembers vividly: "Let me tell you, it was one of the most flamboyant films I think I have ever watched as far as painting another people as absolutely merciless and ruthless. Its intent was to make us hate the Japanese. They were the enemy and we were supposed to destroy them."
In 1943, Hollywood was recruited to make a propaganda film of a very different nature: The Negro Soldier, a film intended to boost morale among black troops. Carlton Moss, the young star of the film, was also the screenwriter: "The film had to be made because the kids from Boston, Philadelphia, New York, Los Angeles, Chicago . . . had to go to the South. And, see, in the very beginning, all of the southern states made it very clear that this was a white man's war." While the War Department heralded The Negro Soldier a success, the film very carefully sidestepped the issue of racism -- and the fact that the US armed forces were still strictly segregated.
By mid-century, families across the US were picking up stakes and moving out to the suburbs, and the lavish downtown movie theaters began to feel the pinch. Television, too, kept moviegoers at home. Overall, movie attendance dropped by two-thirds during the 1950s. New Yorker Arthur Abeles, a film distributor, remembers doing "all sorts of things to regain audiences, sorts of things you couldn't get on television -- the main one being 3-D. It really didn't establish itself because of those damn glasses you had to wear -- driving everybody crazy."
Still, for a hundred years, movies have provided a text book in living: They've informed and influenced, enthralled and entertained, persuaded and seduced audiences around the world, showing us as we are -- and as we would like to be. Italy's Duilia Bartoli: "[The cinema] was everything. It was about how to live, how to talk and walk, how to be courted, how to approach your first love. For me it's been everything. I have beautiful memories. Sometimes I don't even remember what I did yesterday, but I remember these movie scenes. I will remember them forever."
Great Escape is written, produced, and directed by James A. DeVinney; the narrator is John Forsythe. People's Century is a co-production of WGBH and the BBC -- filmed around the world and shaped in Boston and London. Executive producer for WGBH is Zvi Dor-Ner; senior producer is David Espar. Peter Pagnamenta is executive producer for the BBC. National corporate sponsorship for the series is provided by Conseco, Inc. Major funding is provided by public television viewers and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. Additional funding is provided by the Richard Saltonstall Charitable Foundation and The Lowell Institute.
About the Series | Episodes | Timeline | Your Stories | Thematic Overview | Teacher's GuidePeople's Century | WGBH | PBS Online | Search PBS | Feedback | Shop | ©