Page 16 - CinemaRecord #11R.pdf

only one major exception, delivered their lines almost conversationally, as if they had just thought of them,
instead of declaiming or reciting.

The audience was fully involved. They laughed at the humour and, almost incredibly, applauded at the inter-
mission and at the end of the film -something I have not seen happen at a cinema for many years.

I wondered how much of this involvement depended on the wide-screen format. There were certainly any
number of wide-screen enthusiasts in the audience but I spoke with many who had no idea what 70mm meant.
All of them, however, commented on the huge screen and the superb detail of the images. Perhaps, then,
audiences do notice the difference - if they are given the chance!

Having said that, I cannot end without a brief comparison between the 70mm print and the shorter, 35mm
version. Such a comparison could have been difficult because different cinemas were involved but there was
no doubt in my mind that the 35mm version was but a pale imitation of its bigger brother.

Taken on its own, the 35mm version would have been hailed as an epic production but it suffered in a dramatic
sense from the huge cuts that had to be made to fit the shorter time-slot. It also suffered from somewhat-
inferior sound and from a tar-less-detailed image. Both of those factors detracted from the movie's impact and
I cannot help but wonder how the 35mm version would have looked had it not been shot in 65mm.
What does "Hamlet" mean for the future of wide-format productions?

It is probably a vain hope that Branagh's use of 65/70mm alone will spur many other directors and producers to
insist on using the format.

But commercial results might have more of an impact. Castle Rock Entertainment took a chance with the
release of the 70mm version and it seems to have paid off. "The Astor" reports exceptional results for the first-
release, four-hour version but I understand that early returns for the two-hour, 35mm version were a bit disap-
pointing. We can but hope!

by Ralphe Neill - Melbourne, Australia (ran@dgs.monash.edu.au)

This article was first published in "Wide Gauge" magazine in the USA, July 1997. Ralphe Neill is a sometime
journalist, commercial pilot, computer programmer, dog lover and a self-confessed wide-screen fanatic.

James Stewart By Anne Kornblut, New York- The Age, July 5, 1997

He was Captain Jim Stewart, not actor Jimmy Stewart, and the U.S. bomber pilots who flew with him in World
War II thought of him that way until his death. He was a genuine war hero, flying 25 bombing missions, earning
the Air Medal and Distinguished Flying Cross and rising to the rank of colonel during his posting in Europe in
1944-45.

But among the men of the 453rd Bomb Group, Stewart was as congenial as any home-town boy, as earnest
and unassuming as his screen characters. "He was laconic, relaxed, and he gave the appearance of being in
control," said Ramsay Potts, Stewart's commander and roommate in England. The lanky actor enlisted in the
military in 1941. Two years later, after teaching cadets in the US, Stewart was sent to Old Buckingham,
England, as commander of an 8th Air Force bomber squadron. He was a hit among the B-24 Liberator bomber
crews.
Stewart would gather buddies around a piano in the officers club in the evening, play ragtime tunes and dance
the Charleston late into the night. Sitting in the balcony of a British movie theatre in 1944, Stewart and his pals
belted out such a noisy version of "God Save the King" that the theatre turned on its lights. The audience,
recognising one of the singers, cheered. Stewart simply laughed. But men familiar with Stewart's laid-back
movie roles had to adjust to his other side -that of a demanding boss and airborne warrior. He knew planes and
was a decisive leader, according to his wartime assistant operations officer, Andrew Low. "You had to be right
if you were trying to give him advice," said Mr Low, who remained his friend for more than 50 years.