Film History Essentials: A Kiss in the Tunnel (1899)
In the 1910s, Russian film theorist Lev Kuleshov demonstrated what would become known as the “Kuleshov effect.” Audiences were shown multiple sequences of three shots. The first and third shot were the same image of a man’s face with a neutral expression, while the middle shot was different each time, showing a bowl of soup, a child lying in a coffin, and a woman lounging on a divan. In each case, the audience interpreted the man’s expression according to the image in the second shot, and praised his emotive acting.
This demonstration became the foundation of Soviet montage theory, which was a major influence on world cinema through its proponents’ ideas about editing and the association of images. Among its more notable later adherents was the celebrated British director Alfred Hitchcock. 20 years before Kuleshov identified and demonstrated the effect that bears his name, another British filmmaker had begun experimenting with an early form of montage editing (although that term did not yet exist) within a three-shot structure.
George Albert Smith had corresponded with Georges Méliès in 1897, when he first began incorporating his own versions of the cinematic trick effects that Méliès helped pioneer. The following year, he produced perhaps the first instance of parallel action in a film. Then, in November 1899, he had an idea about how to liven up the already-overdone “phantom ride” genre that would prove to be a leap forward for continuity editing in narrative films.
Smith and his wife, the actress Laura Bayley, performed a scene of a couple stealing a chance to enjoy a moment of intimacy in the sudden darkness of a railway tunnel. Smith then sold the scene to exhibitors with the suggestion that they splice it into their phantom ride films during a moment where the camera enters a tunnel. The result effectively demonstrated how disparate pieces of film footage could be seamlessly edited together in order to produce a coherent narrative.
Smith’s film spawned several imitators who introduced their own innovations and variations of its central premise. But more importantly, it marked a new beginning for film grammar and storytelling in the very year that both Kuleshov and Hitchcock were born, right at the end of the 1800s. 60 years later, Alfred Hitchcock concluded his film North by Northwest with a famous shot of a train entering a tunnel as a visual metaphor for the somewhat more intimate moment being shared offscreen by the couple inside. This likely wasn’t a conscious homage to Smith’s A Kiss in the Tunnel, but it serendipitously demonstrates how each film is part of a larger tapestry of history.
Screening:
The version of this film that is available from the British Film Institute has it edited into View from an Engine Front – Shilla Mill Tunnel, an 1899 phantom ride filmed in England’s South West Peninsula by Cecil Hepworth. They describe it as “a construction of two films as they may have been exhibited,” which suggests that this particular version was created much later, in the absence of any actual examples from the time. Hepworth’s film at first appears to be simply a static shot of a train, which is seen emerging from the tunnel ahead. Once that train has gone by, though, the train the camera is mounted on begins moving and enters the tunnel as well, creating the ideal moment for Smith’s film to interject.
Despite ostensibly being set in a darkened railway car, the scene could still only be filmed in full, direct sunlight, and the couples’ shadows are clearly visible against the backdrop. Then again, there would be no mistaking this set for a real passenger compartment, particularly for a 19th-century audience, intimately familiar with train travel. The set consists of two padded benches in front of a painted sheet, with several bits of luggage scattered around. For a touch of added verisimilitude, the camera is jostled back and forth a bit to simulate the train’s motion.
Bayley, a great comedienne whose performance stands out in several of her films, really carries the scenario. Although it helps that she has some natural chemistry with her husband. She tells the entire story of the film through her expressions. Smith’s expressions are barely visible. Rather, his whole performance is conveyed through body language, such as when he looks up, appears to notice that the train has entered the tunnel, and closes his paper decisively (which catches the woman’s attention).
When the man then reaches across and chucks the woman under the chin, she appears to roll her eyes at him. Tolerant and amused, but not interested, she puts up a hand and returns to her book. He says something to her and she smiles and shakes her head in mock annoyance. Finally, she closes her book (but holds her place with her thumb!) as he leans in for a kiss. As soon as he steps back, she pretends to be embarrassed, hiding her face behind the book and grinning. Then she looks up and shakes her head at him again in feigned disapproval.
Much more receptive now, she embraces him as they kiss and kiss again. She at last lays the book aside completely, but he is so distracted that he sits on his hat. She is caught off-guard by this, showing sympathy and concern, but trying to keep the flirtation going as he knocks the hat back into shape.
At this point, the man seems to sense that the train is nearing the end of the tunnel. He says something quickly to the woman as he snatches up his paper and pretends to be absorbed in it, and she quickly opens her book and does the same. However, she hasn’t quite regained her composure. Watch the way she elaborately turns her head back and forth as though miming the act of reading for the benefit of anyone who might be peeping into the car.
Moviegoings 