from one negative into a scene from another
negative, these saw-toothed dodgers fade the
edges of the three Cinerama films where
they join and blend them together so there's
no sign of a joint.
Keeping those three films synchronized is
something else. It's done by a servo
mechanism hooked up to a control panel at
which the control engineer sits. In front of
him are three disks, one for each camera,
marked with a pointer and the projector
designation, "A," "B" and "C." If all three
are in sync, the disks rotate and the pointers
on their rims all pass marker points
simultaneously. If one pointer lags or gains,
the engineer knows he's got an off-kilter
picture and adjusts the proper projector by
remote control.
The big job comes at the start of the show in
getting all the projectors to start together.
It's done by the engineer and projectionists talking signals back and forth in the
theater over an intercom.
The stereophonic sound that heightens the
realistic illusion of Cinerama is as unusual as
the movies. When the shooting crew is in
the field, five microphones are placed to
cover all the action that the camera sees. A
sixth is placed well to one side or behind the
camera to pick up the sound of people's
voices or roaring engines that may be
approaching or leaving the scene. Each mike
makes an individual magnetic recording on a
six-track sound tape. In the theater, five
speakers-one for each of the five mikes that
cover the action-are arranged behind the
screen. Each speaker reproduces the sounds
picked up by the mike that was in a similar
position on the set. Three other speakers,
one on each side wall and another in the rear
of the theater, reproduce the off-stage
noises that the sixth mike picked up. As a
motor boat, for instance, roars across the
set, the noise of its engine will be picked up
by each of the mikes successively. And that's
the way the sound comes out in the theater-moving sound that travels across the screen
and roars away behind you.
Critics of Cinerama have decried the bulk
and awkwardness of the big camera and the
fact that it takes 4 1/2 times as much film to
turn out a picture. Each frame is half again
the height produced by a standard 35-millimeter lens and the film runs at 26
frames a second instead of 24 (to eliminate
flicker which would be noticed out of the
corner of the eye). Harry Squire, Cinerama's
director of photography, Jack Priestly, technician, and Marty Philbin,
electrician, laugh at such talk.
CONTINUED NEXT PAGE
AUGUST 1952
|