The Operatics of Cabiria (1914):
Intermediality in Early Italian Cinema
Bernhard Kuhn
Abstract
This article presents an intermedial analysis of the Italian silent film Cabiria by
Giovanni Pastrone within the cultural context of its time. Employing theories
developed by Werner Wolf and Irina Rajewsky, the article lays out the intermedial
and transmedial relationships of Cabiria with other media, in particular
opera, literature, and painting, and illustrates that operatic references are incorporated
recognizably during key moments of the film. By contrasting these
references with specific cinematic techniques, Pastrone demonstrates that film is
able to elicit an operatic sensation and that film is a distinct and valuable form
of art.
Key words: early cinema, Italian cinema, world cinema, intermedia, opera.
Cabiria (1914) marks a milestone in the history of world cinema, and its technical
and artistic innovations as well as its influences are well documented.1
While the film certainly inspired subsequent cinematic works with its innovative
techniques, such as the insertion of dolly shots, this article argues that its
greatness can also be evaluated from an intermedial perspective by considering
its ties to other art media and, in particular, to opera.
Cabiria is set against the backdrop of the second Punic war during the third
century BC. The story begins with the abduction of the girl, Cabiria, in the
aftermath of an eruption of Mount Etna. Cabiria is sold in Carthage to the High
Priest of the Temple of Moloch and is doomed to be sacrificed. During the most
famous sequence of the film, which takes place in the Temple of Moloch, she is
rescued by the Roman Fulvio Axilla and his slave Maciste. Fulvio and Maciste
leave Cabiria with Queen Sofonisba of Carthage. Ten years later, Sofonisba
delivers Cabiria, who has in the meantime become her favourite servant, to
Karthalo, the High Priest of the Moloch Temple in the hopes of pleasing the
God, so that Carthage can be victorious against Rome. Cabiria is subsequently
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film, Volume 39, Number 2 (Winter 2012) © Manchester University Press
http://dx.doi.org/10.7227/NCTF.39.2.1
rescued once more by Maciste.2
The film ends with Sofonisba’s suicide, the
victory of the Rome against Carthage, and Cabiria and Fulvio’s sailing home.
Silvio Alovisio recently defined Cabiria as a ‘transmedial’ work of art because
of its incorporation of other artistic media, such as architecture, painting,
archaeology, opera, theatre, literature and music.3
While Alovisio correctly
points to the film's relationship with the other arts, in this essay, I will argue for
the use of the term, ‘intermedial’.4
This article seeks to fill a gap in the literature
by offering an analysis of these intermedial references and will demonstrate that
they are essential in understanding the film and, in particular, its cultural significance.
It will be shown that this proves particularly true with respect to the film’s
relationship with opera. Considering the film’s particular ties to opera, this article
will argue that Cabiria includes operatic references not only to create an operatic
atmosphere familiar to the Italian spectator of the time, but also to
emphasise the technical possibilities of cinema in order to distinguish cinema
from the other already established forms of art. On a cultural level, Cabiria thus
implicitly shows that the still relatively new art form of cinema is at least as
valuable as the traditional arts and therefore deserves the same respect.
Before delving into a filmic and cultural analysis of Cabiria, the film’s historic
and cultural context needs to be briefly sketched out in order to fully comprehend
the pathbreaking qualities of this film. It is also necessary to briefly explain
the intermedial approach applied to categorise and describe the various relationships
between the medium film and the other art forms of the time.
Early Italian Cinema
Cinema was introduced to Italy on 12 March 1896 when the travelling Lumière
brothers presented their moving pictures in Rome for the first time to advertise
their cameras, as they were doing in many other European countries. From that
moment on, moving picture shows became part of travelling carnivals. During
the first decade of the twentieth century, the Italian film industry began to
develop and the pioneers of Italian cinema created the first production companies
and movie theatres. Historically, this development goes hand in hand with
the industrial expansion at the time, particularly in Milano and Turin, and many
capitalists got involved with the cinema business as they considered it a good
investment. In the second half of the 1910s, this interest and investment lead to
an increase in the number of films produced, which rose from 126 in 1906 to
867 in 1910.5
Particularly responsible for the rapid growth were the production
companies Itala-Film, Società Anonima Ambrosio, and Cines which produced
sixty per cent of Italy’s films in 1911. Itala and Ambrosio operated out of Turin,
which has been appropriately called ‘filmopoli.’6
From an aesthetic point of view, the first films can be categorised ‘cinema of
attractions,’ which Tom Gunning defined as cinema that ‘bases itself on. . .its
ability to show something’.7
One example of an early ‘attraction’ and one of the
first Italian films produced for commercial use is Vittorio Calcina’s Umberto
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film 39/22
e Margherita di Savoia a passeggio per il parco (1896) (King Umberto and
Margherita of Savoy Strolling in the Park). As the title indicates, the film shows
the Italian king walking in the Park together with Margherita of Savoy. This
form of cinema, where narrative is less important than the spectacular aspect, is
particularly characteristic of films produced in Italy before 1905. The audience
of early cinema was typically less interested in a narrated story than in the spectacular
value of the visual presentation. In 1905, Filoteo Alberini produced the
first Italian feature film with a substantial plot: La presa di Roma (The Taking of
Rome). From then on, cinema expanded its repertoire rapidly towards films that
tended to include more narrative elements than the early attractions. The spectacular
aspect of cinema, however, continued to exist as component of certain
genres even after the advance of primarily narrative films.8
During the second
half of the first decade of the twentieth century, Italian producers began also
introducing different genres, such as the historic or the comic film. In addition
to historic events, a variety of artistic sources inspired film, such as literature,
theatrical works, or the visual arts. Towards the end of the decade, the Italian
film industry was well established and its products were enjoyed in Italy as well
as internationally thanks also to distributors like George Kleine from the United
States.9
Towards the beginning of the 1910s, Italian producers began creating
longer, more sophisticated works that brought about worldwide admiration of
Italian cinema. The aesthetic quality continued to grow and reached its peak in
1914 with Cabiria, the film in the centre of this article.10
Cinema was a very popular form of entertainment in Italy from its beginnings,
although it was several years before intellectuals and the bourgeois
audience began to consider it as artistically valuable. At first, cinema was primarily
considered to be popular spectacle comparable to the circus or variety
shows, and the new art form was largely ignored by critics and intellectuals.
Around 1907 the newly founded cinema magazines as well as the daily press
began writing about films and the institution of cinema. The magazines frequently
wrote favourably about cinema, partly because production companies
often sponsored the magazines and used them for advertising purposes. Many
professional critics, however, expressed serious doubt about this new form of
entertainment. The film historian Aldo Bernardini even speaks of a ‘campagna
contro il cinema’ (‘campaign against cinema’).11
Critics objected, for instance, to
the invasion of places traditionally used for concerts or theatre, where films were
often screened, and it was not uncommon to see them accuse films of immorality
and sensationalism because of the inclusion of materials not conforming to
the societal ideal of the cultural authorities. They claimed, for example, that
cinema would present and teach lies, pornography and crime. Some critics also
compared the new form of entertainment with theatre, usually highlighting the
positive qualities of the latter such as the physical presence of actors and their
voice on stage, and the authentic realism of the scenery, which they argued
cinema did not provide.12
The fear that cinema might undermine or destroy
theatre seems to be an important motivation for the aversion towards the
The Operatics of Cabiria 3
new medium. The journalist, writer and future fascist politician Luigi Federzoni
spoke of a new ‘civilization of the image’, which he feared would be destined to
overtake the thousands of year old civilization of the word. When speaking of
the issue of the filmic adaptation of novels or theatrical pieces, he opined that
cinema left out the poetic content of a work, reducing it to the ‘naked facts.’13
This generally negative attitude towards cinema, however, slowly changed
during the second decade of the twentieth century. The number of cinema
magazines and articles in newspapers grew from the beginning of the 1910s,
and more and more writers became interested in working with the new
medium.14
Nonetheless, in 1913, just before Cabiria was released, many intellectuals
still saw no future for cinema and did not see any serious purpose in the
new medium. The poet and writer Guido Gozzano, for instance, while describing
cinema’s cultural function as simple entertainment, recommended it only
for evenings when the brain was too tired for what he considered to be true
art.15
While the more serious involvement of novelists and other respected
artists with the new medium might have helped improve cinema’s reputation,
the debate about whether cinema might be considered as art was resolved only
after the international success of films like Cabiria, which seems to have discredited
or hushed many of the most critical voices against cinema.
Against this backdrop of the development of cinema and of its erstwhile critical
reception, it can therefore be concluded that cinema was (and was perceived
to be) in competition with other media. During the second decade of the
twentieth century, this was particularly the case with the live performance arts
of theatre and opera. Cinema became generally accepted as an independent art
form only in the second half of the 1910s. There are many reasons for this development,
but the primary reason is that the production companies created high
quality films like Cabiria, which were not only a commercial success, but could
also be recognised by contemporary critics and intellectuals as works of art.16
Intermediality
The interaction of Cabiria with the other art forms of the period can be best
highlighted by adopting the terminology developed by Werner Wolf and Irina
Rajewsly to describe different intermedial categories.17
Rajewsky applies the
term intermediality to ‘all those phenomena that (as indicated by the prefix
inter) in some way take place between media’.18
This broad concept includes
the intermedial sub categories ‘medial transposition’,19
‘plurimediality’,20
‘intermedial reference’ and ‘transmediality’, which are all relevant for the medium
of film.
Of particular relevance for the analysis of Cabiria and its relationship with
other art forms are the categories ‘intermedial reference’ and ‘transmediality’.
Intermedial references are part of the signifiers of a medium, in our case film,
and refer to one specific different medium, such as literature, painting or
opera.21
The reference can be either explicit or implicit. Explicit references
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film 39/24
in film are part of the film’s story (histoire) and thematise another medium.
Implicit references are part of a medium’s semiotic structure and imitate
another medium. Since the semiotic structure of film is different from the
semiotic structure of all other media, the implicit reference can only simulate
the discours of the other medium or partially recreate it with elements that film
has in common with that other medium.22
Transmedial connections are by definition not media specific.23
This concept
describes the occurrence of formal or content elements in different media without
establishing an exclusive relationship between them. As a result, transmedial
references typically do not create relationships between two specific media
but build bridges between several media, such as literature, opera, theatre and
film. Significant examples of transmedialities relevant for early film are, for
instance, biblical references, the combination of spectacle and narrative, the use
of melodramatic elements and the repetition of a motif or thematic variation.
All these occurrences can be found in several media of the time period.
Cabiria (1914)
It is important to record that Giovanni Pastrone, who produced and directed
the film Cabiria, undertook a number of versions of the story. Today, there are
at least three different versions of the film: the original 1914 film, a revised
1921version and a sound film produced in 1931 with Bixiophone, which played
records synchronously with the screened images. Unfortunately, due to missing
footage, it has not been possible to restore completely the original 1914 film.
The newly restored 2006 version, produced in Turin, comes as close as possible
to the original.24
In my discussion of the film, I will be referring to the original
1914 film.
The film is an intermedial ‘masterpiece’. While I argue that the relationship
between Cabiria and opera is of particular significance, strong links exist between
this film and several other media. The film’s relationship with literature,
for instance, manifests itself within the diegesis as well as on the extra-diegetic
level, primarily within the paratext.
The film’s promotional materials, such as posters, flyers and brochures, as
well as the credits led its audience to believe that Gabriele D’Annunzio, one of
the most celebrated poets and literary figures of the time, was primarily responsible
for the film. While today, this misleading notion has been corrected and
Giovanni Pastrone is accepted as Cabiria’s ‘author’ (director and producer), the
prominent display of D’Annunzio’s name during the film’s promotion can be
seen as one of Pastrone’s own clever marketing strategies. The upper classes,
intellectuals and the representatives of high culture at the time accepted
D’Annunzio as part of their world and were therefore willing to take any work
under his name seriously.25
In addition, the name of a famous literary figure on
the film’s promotional material implicitly connected the film with the ‘superior’
medium of literature. While D’Annunzio’s precise involvement in the
The Operatics of Cabiria 5
production of Cabiria is still a matter of debate, we know that D’Annunzio
wrote the inter-titles with Pastrone, chose the title, and assisted with the film’s
promotion.26
As well as including the poet’s name in the film’s promotional material,
D’Annunzio and Pastrone seemed to want to connect the film explicitly with
literature; one of the provisional titles for the film was Il romanzo delle fiamme
(‘Novel of Flames’). The inclusion of the word ‘romanzo’ (‘novel’) in the title
directly linked the film to the medium of literature. Letters confirm that other
artists involved in the production, such as the composer Ildebrando Pizzetti,
also saw this link, referring to Cabiria as ‘romanzo cinematografico’ (‘cinematographic
novel’).27
All of which suggests that the producers of the film may have
intended to create a work of art on film that was similar to a novel; however, in
the end, they changed the final title, and there is no longer an explicit marker
for the audience that establishes the link with literature on the paratextual level.
Nonetheless, it is possible to identify explicit intermedial references to specific
literary works within the film’s story as well as implicit references. The most
significant examples are references to Flaubert’s Salammbô (1862) and Salgari’s
Cartagine in fiamme (1908).28
Both novels interweave fictional and historic
characters and events in the conflict between Rome and Carthage at the time of
the Punic Wars. In Salammbô, which takes place after the first Punic war at the
time of the mercenaries’ revolts in 240 BC, the title character Salammbô is a
Carthaginian priestess. Matho, the leader of the mercenaries falls in love with
Salammbô and steals the veil of Carthage. The Carthaginians steal it back and
win the battle against the mercenaries. The novel ends with the execution of
Matho and Salammbô’s death.
Cartagine in fiamme takes place in 146 BC when Roman legions lay siege to
Carthage. Hiram, an exiled soldier is in love with Ophir. After rescuing Fulvia,
a beautiful Roman who was about to be sacrificed, he has to fight a battle at sea
against his enemy Phegor. When he returns to Carthage, Hiram finds out that
Ophir has been engaged to a young warrior. He abducts Ophir and flees with
her. Phegor, on the other hand, captures Fulvia. When Hiram tries to liberate
her again, he is arrested. Fulvia arranges for his escape and, although in love
with Hiram, promises herself to Phegor. The story ends with a battle and the
defeat of the Carthaginians. Hiram and Ophir are able to flee to safety, but
Phegor dies in the flames of the burning city.
Comparing the events portrayed in Cabiria, certain references to the novels
are obvious and include for instance the portrayal of Sofonisba, a prominent
Carthaginian woman who dies at the end very much like the title character in
Salammbô, or the rescue of a Cabiria from sacrifice resembles Fulvia’s liberation
in Cartagine in fiamme. In addition, the film portrays a private story that is
embedded in an historic past, specifically the Punic wars. This fact links the
film not only with these two novels but, in a transmedial manner, also with
the genre of the historic novel and other art works that treat the conflict between
Carthage and Rome. Since the publication and success of Flaubert’s Salammbô,
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film 39/26
this historic conflict figures prominently in the literature, theatre, opera, art and,
from the early 1910s, also in cinema. Luciano Curreri speaks of the creation of a
cultural myth combining the historic facts of the Punic wars and fictional elements
originating with Salammbô. One example of this combination of fact and
fiction in several art forms of the time is the frequency with which the historic
figure Hannibal and a fictional female character based on Salammbô
are incorporated into other works. Writers and artists of the Décadence frequently
transformed this female character into a femme fatale, such as Salomè,
Dalila, Judith or Sofonisba.29
In Cabiria, Sofonisba incorporates typical elements
of a femme fatale. While the references to Salammbô and Cartagine in fiamme
can be seen as an intermedial link between the film and the medium of literature,
these other transmedial references to the myth of Carthage connect the film
with the arts in general.
However, it needs to be underscored that knowledge of Carthaginian culture
at the time of the film was limited. Excavations of Carthage had only started in
1857, and knowledge of the Carthaginian architecture before Scipio’s destruction
in 146 BC was limited by Augustus’s subsequent rebuilding of the city.
The filmic presentation of the architecture of Carthage and aspects of Carthaginian
life are therefore informed primarily by nineteenth-century paintings.
The depiction of Archimedes in the film, for instance, shows strong similarities
to paintings by Gustave Courtis and Niccolò Barabino. The portrayal of Sofonisba,
her clothing and her palace, on the other hand, resembles orientalist
paintings such as Georges Clairin’s L’entrée au harem as well as the works by
John Frederick Lewis, Jan Baptist Huysmans and Émile Vernet-Lecomte.30
Although the presentation of certain buildings, such as Bodastoret’s house,
seems to correspond to what is known of Carthaginian building style, the
depiction of the Moloch temple, one of the most impressive elements of the
film, is largely fictional, since the existence of a big human-like bronze statue
with a bull’s head cannot be verified archeologically. This imagery, however,
resembles Flaubert’s description of the Moloch in Salammbô as well as to descriptions
to be found in the Old Testament. The depiction of Sofonisba’s palace
also combines fictional and authentic elements. The presence of the elephants at
the entrance of the palace for example, are apparently fictional, while other interior
decorations, such as vases, ceramics and jewels, are similar to artefacts
found in either Carthage or Egypt.31
The similarities between elements of the filmic mise en scéne and paintings
or archaeological findings ought to be categorised as transmedialities since no
direct explicit link can be established between the media of painting or architecture
and the film. The aesthetic function of those references is primarily to create
a sensation of authenticity. Pastrone seems to have intended to reproduce a
setting for his film that is historically as accurate as possible, but since, unfortunately,
only partial historic knowledge about Carthage was available at the
time of the film’s production, and since authentic archaeological findings were
still scarce, he modelled his representation of the Carthaginian world at least
The Operatics of Cabiria 7
in part after descriptions in literary texts and depictions in art. In addition,
Pastrone, like several writers and artists before him, based some of his settings
and decorations on Egyptian examples, which were frequently exhibited in European
museums. The film, therefore, rarely refers directly to the historic reality
of Carthage but mostly recreates this ancient civilization as mediated
through literature, orientalist paintings and European museums.
As far as the relationship between Cabiria and other medial representations
of Carthage is concerned, we can conclude that the film is embedded in an
intermedial and transmedial net portraying this ancient civilization at the time
of the Punic wars. Thanks to these previous presentations in literature, art, theatre,
opera and film,32
the historic background was not new to large parts of
Cabiria’s contemporary audience. The intermedial and transmedial references,
therefore, implicitly invite the film’s audience to compare it with these other
works of art and to decide whether the film is artistically comparable to the
traditional art forms, which at the time were considered more prestigious.
Cabiria and Opera
Cabiria creates ties not only to literature, painting and ancient artefacts but
makes references to opera as well. Comparable to the relationship between
Cabiria and literature, the connection with opera can first be observed on the
paratextual level. Relevant in this regard are the chosen venues for the first
screenings of Cabiria, which were all opera houses: in Turin, Cabiria could be
watched for the first time on 14 April 1914 at the Teatro Vittorio Emanuele; in
Milan, on the same day at the Teatro Lirico; and in Rome, on 22 April 1914 at
the Teatro Costanzi. Furthermore and comparable to an opera spectacle, the
audience received a ‘libretto’ of the film including the inter-titles.33
A second extra-diegetic link between Cabiria and opera can be seen in the
significance Pastrone attributed to the music accompanying the film. Originally,
D’Annunzio and Pastrone hired Ildebrando Pizzetti to compose the music for
the whole film. Pastrone explicitly opposed typical ‘film music’ and requested
instead a symphonic work for a big orchestra and two choruses that should be
qualitatively valuable even without images.34
Although we know that Pizzetti
only composed the Sinfonia del fuoco (Symphony of Fire), a short symphonic
piece of about 10 minutes for orchestra and chorus, the fact that the authors of
the film requested the collaboration of a well-known composer and originally
intended the performance of his music composed for all events in the film demonstrates
the envisioned significance of the music. The composer Pizzetti, who
was very sceptical towards the whole project and cinema in general,35
explicitly
expressed that the music in Cabiria should be comparably important to the significance
of music in opera. On 14 December 1913, he wrote to D’Annunzio:
Infatti, se si vuole che la cinematografia accompagnata dalla musica diventi una
vera e propria espressione d’arte, bisogna trattare anche la musica in modo degno,
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film 39/28
e con rispetto non minore di quello che si riconosce dovuto, p.e., a un opera
melodrammatica.36
Indeed, if one wants that the cinematography accompanied by music becomes a
true and real expression of art, one ought to treat also the music in a dignified
manner and with no less respect than one considers necessary to pay for example
to an operatic work. (My translation)
And indeed, music plays a significant role in this film. This is not only the
case for Pizzetti’s famous Sinfonia del fuoco but also for the music compiled by
Pizzetti’s student Manlio Mazza, which primarily consists of previously composed
pieces. Unfortunately, neither Pizzetti’s Sinfonia del fuoco nor Mazza’s
compilations are included in the score of the film versions currently available
on video or DVD.
The Sinfonia del fuoco is a symphonic poem with the structure ‘A B A’.37
Since the piece includes frequent changes of tempo and tonality, its performance
is certainly more difficult than typical film accompaniments and hence
presented a challenge to film orchestras. The centre part (B) includes the vocal
part with baritone and chorus entitled L’invocazione del Moloch (invocation of
Moloch). The entrance of the baritone (‘Re delle due zone, t’invoco’- ‘I invoke
you, King of the two zones’) causes a strong sensation since the presence of a
dominant voice foregrounds the physicality of the music, which creates a
contrast to the materiality of screened images. During this vocal part, the
chorus responds to the baritone in a counterpoint-like fashion alternating
imitative and homophonic structures. Altogether, however, Pizzetti’s piece is
quite suitable to accompany the images of the Moloch temple for which Pastrone
had intended it in all likelihood.38
According to the reviews of the time, it seems that the Sinfonia del fuoco was
performed twice during the first screenings, once as an overture and once during
the second part of the film.39
The first time, it was accompanied by two or three
allegoric images highlighting the theme of fire, which can be considered a visual
introduction to the film. While beginning the spectacle with the musical performance
certainly highlights to the viewer the importance of music, this practice is
also quite comparable to beginning an opera with an overture. The plurimedial
fusion of orchestra, solo voice, chorus and screened images therefore has the
potential to signal to the contemporary Italian audience a connection between
this film and the art form of opera. The fact that the first screenings took place
in an opera house might additionally assist in creating an appropriate atmosphere
for such a perception.
During the second part of the film, in which the images portray the Moloch
temple and the sacrifice of children, Cabiria imitates the discours of opera and
thus generates an operatic sensation for the attentive audience. At this moment,
spectators experience the cinematic medium comparable to attending an opera
performance. Considering the different media involved, in this sequence the
The Operatics of Cabiria 9
meaning of text and music of the Sinfonia del fuoco corresponds to the meaning
of the images. The text represents the adoration of God Moloch. The High
Priest invokes Moloch three times, followed by an equivalent response by the
chorus. With each call and response, the music gets more intense, which corresponds
to the intensification of the film sequence. While this moment creates
an operatic impression through the combination of Pizzetti’s music and
(screened) spectacle, the film sequence employs an additional implicit intermedial
reference imitating a typical operatic structure. Many operas, in particular
Italian pre-verismo operas, incorporate narrative elements and static moments,
during which the action seems to stop, such as arias, ballet numbers or ensemble
scenes. The Moloch scene in the film works just like such a scene in an opera.
Comparable to an aria or ballet number, it disrupts the narrative flow and
time seems to be suspended.40
The narrative continues only towards the end
of the sequence when Fulvio, Maciste and Croessa enter the temple to save
Cabiria.
Unfortunately, we do not know how text and music were technically connected
to the images during the first screenings of the Moloch scene. Since
the original sequence could not be restored so far, we do not know if there
was synchrony between text, music and image and if the baritone started to
sing during the shot that shows the priest opening his mouth for the first
time.41
On the other hand, we do know that the original film included
scenes in the temple with children being thrown into the flames, which
proves at least a thematic and emotional connection between music and im-
ages.42
This sequence is therefore operatic in the sense that the film imitates
the operatic discours by presenting rather static images without narration
combined with orchestral music, solo voice and chorus. As for the Sinfonia
del fuoco, the film establishes an implicit relationship with the medium of
opera on two occasions: the first time, by performing the Sinfonia del fuoco
as an overture and, later, by combining spectacular images with orchestral
and vocal music.
In addition to this implicit reference to opera created with the incorporation
of the Sinfonia del fuoco in prominent moments of the film, also Manlio Mazza’s
musical compilation creates ties with the medium of opera, in particular to
Gluck’s opera Orfeo ed Euridice (1762).43
Cabiria’s score begins with a quotation
from the music of the second act (Scene 2) of the opera. This piece, played with
exactly the same orchestration as in the opera, accompanies the first scene of the
film. While the bucolic character of the music perfectly suits the images describing
the peaceful atmosphere in Batta’s house, it directly establishes the
relationship between the two works. There are parallels between Cabiria
and Orfeo ed Euridice even on the basic narrative level, such as the fact that
Fulvio saves Cabiria, comparably to Orfeo saving Euridice in the opera.44
The
explicit musical reference to Gluck’s opera highlights additionally the relationship
between this film and opera in general and in a readily recognizable
manner.
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film 39/210
Several additional operatic ties can be observed by focusing on the visual
characteristics of the film. Cabiria is characterised by excess, which is also characteristic
of many operas and opera characters. The best example is Sofonisba,
played by the popular actress Italia Almirante Manzini. She is presented in an
orientalist fashion with exotic clothing and jewels. Her extravagant character,
opposite to Roman ideals, is further underlined by her leopard. Within the narrative
of Cabiria, she embodies the Diva role and reminds us of the stage divas
of the time period.45
Similar to a heroine in many operas, she is the femme
fatale who kills herself at the end in a stylised and highly melodramatic fashion.
Especially in her suicide scene, she is characterised by a histrionic acting style,
which conveys her feelings of desperation through carefully choreographed
movements and expressive hand and body movements.46
In similar opera
scenes, such feelings would probably be expressed through an aria. Furthermore,
Sofonisba is also frequently presented in close shots or, in medium or longer shots,
positioned in the centre of the frame. This not only underlines her special role
within the narrative, but the visual distinction between the star in the centre of the
frame and secondary characters or masses at the margins corresponds to the conventional
division of space between the soloist and the chorus in an opera.47
Excess can be observed not only in Sofonisba’s role and expressive gestures
and attitudes but also in the portrayal of the masses. One example of this can
be found in the scenes of the first part that follow the eruption of Mount Etna,
in which masses of people are portrayed fleeing from the fire. In this scene, they
leave the frame in opposite directions on the left and the right, which is similar
to how actors would typically leave a theatre stage.48
Masses are also present in
the temple scenes of the second part, during the portrayal of Hannibal crossing
the Alps or during the battle scenes. On a different narrative level, excess can
be observed in the elaborate style of the inter-titles, which are stylistically exaggerated
and often redundant, since they tell in words what is later narrated by
the images.49
A further relationship between Cabiria and opera concerns the film’s narrative
structure which is not only, as observed earlier, similar to historic novels but
also to the structure of French Grand Opéra and operas similar to this particular
opera genre, such as Verdi’s Aida (1871). Aida in particular might have served
as a particular structural model for this film since the political conflict in Cabiria
is very similar to the conflict in Aida.50
In addition, the narrative of Cabiria
builds on contrasts as it is characteristic for the genre of Grand Opéra. Starting
with the third episode, war scenes between Romans and Carthagians are contrasted
with scenes of Cabiria’s private story. In addition, right from the start,
catastrophic scenes are contrasted with scenes of hope. The scenes of the eruption
of Etna are contrasted for example with scenes of Cabiria’s survival. The
Moloch scene presents another example: Cabiria is about to be sacrificed but is
then saved by Maciste. Furthermore, like in many Grand Opéras, the characters
in Cabiria are distinguished by strong contrasts between the characters and their
moral positions. With the exception of Sofonisba, all characters can be defined
The Operatics of Cabiria 11
as either good or evil. All Romans are portrayed as good and as having integrity,
while all Carthagians are shown as evil. The extremes are represented by Maciste
and Karthalo. Sofonisba, however, is a multidimensional character. At first she is
presented as a positive figure that helps save Cabiria from Karthalo and from
being sacrificed to Moloch, but towards the end of the film she is willing to
sacrifice her for a victory of Carthage over Rome, which of course does not
occur.51
A final operatic reference is the visual simulation of musical recurring motifs.
In correspondence with the original title, Romanzo delle fiamme (Novel of
Flames), fire is one such recurring motif and is paradigmatically presented as a
destructive force. In the first part, fire, represented through the eruption of the
Etna, destroys the house of Cabiria’s family. In the second part, fire, presented
in the temple, destroys the lives of children, and in the fourth part, fire caused
by the mirror of Archimedes destroys the Roman fleet. Each of the five parts of
the film is entitled accordingly with relation to fire, and each title is listed in
the libretto of the film which was distributed during the first productions.52
By
visually highlighting the element of fire at different points in the film, Cabiria
adopts the musical and in particular operatic technique of repeating certain
motifs to create ties between different moments and simulates this practice cinematically.
In addition, recurring motifs can be found in the score, which can
be best described as reminiscing motifs since they create connections between
different scenes or characters.53
These intermedial and transmedial references between Cabiria and opera
created through music, excess, structural similarities with Grand Opéra and the
visual simulation of recurring motifs generate an operatic sensation to the Italian
spectator in 1914. While this was potentially appreciated by an audience accustomed
to and fond of opera,54
there is an additional reason for including these
references and foregrounding the relationship between this film and opera.
During significant moments, such as the beginning or the most spectacular
scenes of the film, such as the Moloch scene or Sofonisba’s death scene, Pastrone
not only incorporates references to opera but also highlights at the same
time particular cinematic techniques, which underscores Cabiria’s specifically
filmic qualities. During the second shot of the film, which is accompanied by
the score of Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice, Pastrone makes use of the dolly for the
first time in film history. The scene takes place in Batta’s house, and during this
shot, the camera moves from the back towards Batto. By employing a dolly in
this scene, the director allows the spectator to admire the architecture of Batta’s
house including thick columns and vases which will be destroyed by the
erupting volcano later in the sequence. From an aesthetic point of view, however,
the film creates an operatic flair through the combination of operatic
orchestral music and visual performance and, at the same time, underscores
the specific technical advantages of film. The effect of including this new cinematic
technique right at the beginning in combination with operatic music creates
a sense of estrangement so that the viewer is distanced somewhat from
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film 39/212
the story and consciously recognises the new technique and thus the aesthetic
potential of the filmic medium.
Another instance of such estrangement causes the end of the Moloch scene
when Pastrone employs a long dolly shot. Thanks to this technique, Fulvio,
Maciste and Croessa who enter the temple are at first in the focus of the camera.
With the moving camera, however, they become gradually visually
absorbed by the masses in the temple. Since the Moloch scene is reminiscent of
opera not only because of the combination of music, text (voice) and spectacle
but also because it contains structural similarities with opera, the relationship
with opera is somewhat different than it was in the first scene. Here, with the
arrival of the three characters, the static moment of the first part of the sequence
ends, and the narration continues. Maciste will eventually intervene in
the religious ritual and will save Cabiria from being sacrificed. By incorporating
a dolly shot at this crucial moment, the film therefore breaks the static not only
on the level of the screen performance, but the camera itself takes on a narrative
function. In addition and comparable to the first scene of the film, Pastrone
thus foregrounds a specific quality of the medium film by narrating through the
movement of the camera.
The use of cinematic means is even more dominant during Sofonisba’s death
scene. In addition to incorporating the dolly, Pastrone makes use of the filmic
technique of a parallel montage alternating between shots portraying Sofonisba’s
suffering and shots showing Fulvio’s arrival. The scene itself portrays the
death of the principal female character, which is a highly melodramatic moment,
reminiscent of many nineteenth century operas. Very appropriately, the actress
Italia Almirante Mazzini appears full of pathos at this instance. This impression
is primarily caused by her expressive gestures and mimic, but Pastrone further
underscores this dramatic moment through the use of artificial lighting and
short dolly shots. The use of the parallel montage momentarily shifts the focus
away to a second action, which is happening at the same time. While this
certainly diminishes the melodramatic - or operatic - sensation, it highlights
cinema’s ability to simultaneously portray actions happening at the same time in
different places.
Finally, during the shots following Sofonisba’s suicide, Pastrone concludes
the film by incorporating the double exposure technique.55
In the last scene,
where Fulvio is happily united with Cabiria, their feelings are expressed by the
superimposed image of angels, hence, primarily with cinematic means. While a
happy ending is not necessarily typically operatic, the film attempts to create a
strong emotional sensation with filmic means. Since the medium of opera is
legendary for creating strong sensations with musical means, the final shot can
be interpreted as an attempt to simulate this operatic characteristic with specifically
filmic means.
The preceding analysis of these four key scenes demonstrates that Pastrone
creates intermedial references to opera and incorporates specifically cinematic
techniques, such as dolly shots, parallel montage or double exposure. On the
The Operatics of Cabiria 13
one hand, this might diminish the operatic effects. At the same time, however,
it directly and recognizably contrasts the two media and highlights the technical
possibilities of cinema as a medium. When we also take the cultural and artistic
context into consideration, it can be concluded that this combination of operatic
and cinematic elements within one scene also implicitly reflects on the intellectual
discourse of the time. While the general cultural climate was still not
favourable towards cinema and many intellectuals and cultural critics
expressed scepticism and hesitated to accept the new form as artistically
valuable, Cabiria implicitly contests such criticism by demonstrating cinema’s
capabilities and full potential. The film demonstrates that cinema is able to
trigger sensations that are comparable to those caused by traditional media,
such as opera, and that it can do so by imitating the other medium as well as
by employing distinct techniques specific to cinema.
While Cabiria certainly incorporates references to several different media,
such as literature, art and architecture, the relationship between the film and
opera is particularly central. By highlighting the film’s ties to opera and, at the
same time, distancing itself from the older medium, Pastrone succeeds in drawing
attention to the uniqueness of the medium of film. As the preceding contextual
discussion of the critical reception of cinema demonstrates, Italian cinema
became generally accepted as independent art form only during the second half
of the 1910s. Cabiria, which many critics and intellectuals of the time did recognise
as a work of art, played a crucial part in this progress.
Notes
1 S. Alovisio and A. Barbera (eds), Cabiria & Cabiria (Torino: Il Castoro, 2006),
G. Carluccio, ‘Il laboratorio di Cabiria. Un modello italiano per gli americani’, in
G. Carluccio, Scritture della Visione: percorsi nel cinema muto (Torino: Kaplan,
2006), pp. 36–44, P. Bertetto and G. Rondolino, Cabiria e il suo tempo (Milano:
Il Castoro, 1998), P. Cherchi Usai, Giovanni Pastrone: gli anni d’oro del cinema
a Torino (Torino: Utet, 1986), and G. Cincotti (ed.), Pastrone e Griffith: l’ipotesi
e la storia (Roma: Edizioni dell’Ateneo, 1975).
2 Maciste is played by Bartolomeo Pagano, who may be considered as the ‘divo’ of
this film. After Cabiria, Maciste becomes a popular character in a variety of genre
films. Examples include Maciste bersagliere (1916), Maciste atleta (1917), Maciste
innamorato (1919), Maciste imperatore (1924) and Maciste all’inferno (1926). These
titles can be translated as Maciste, the Soldier (1916), Maciste, the Athlete (1917),
Maciste in Love (1919), Maciste, the Emperor (1924), Maciste in Hell (1921). My
translation.
3 S. Alovisio, ‘Il film che visse due volte. Cabiria tra antichi segreti e ricerche nuove’,
in Alovisio and Barbera, Cabiria & Cabiria (Torino: Il Castoro, 2006), p. 36.
4 Please see below the section entitled ‘Intermediality’.
5 P. Sorlin, Italian National Cinema 1896-1996 (London and New York: Routledge,
1996), p. 21.
6 Ibid., p. 22. See also G. P. Brunetta, Storia del cinema italiano: il cinema muto 1895-
1929 (Roma: Editori Riuniti, 1993), pp. 26–40.
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film 39/214
7 T. Gunning, ‘The Cinema of Attractions: Early Film, Its Spectator, and the AvantGarde’,
in R. Knopf (ed.), Theater and Film: A Comparative Anthology (New Haven
and London: Yale University Press, 2005), p. 39.
8 Ibid., p. 39.
9 H. Harrison and N. Mazzanti, ‘La collezione George Kleine alla Library of Congress’,
in R. Renzi (ed.), Sperduto nel buio (Bologna: Cappelli, 1991), pp. 159–69.
10 G. P. Brunetta, The History of Italian Cinema: A Guide to Italian Films from its
Origins to the Twenty-First Century (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009),
p. 37.
11 A. Bernardini, Cinema muto italiano. II. Industria e organizzazione dello spettacolo
1905-1909 (Bari: Laterza, 1981), p. 194.
12 Ibid., pp. 195–6.
13 Ibid., p. 197, n. 52. Federzoni wrote under the pseudonym Giulio de Frenzi.
14 Brunetta, Storia del cinema italiano, pp. 91–7. One early supporter of cinema was
the futurist Filippo Tommaso Marinetti. In 1913, he commented that cinema
would and should destroy theatre as art form since theatre no longer responded
appropriately to the needs of the audiences. Also other writers, such as Nino Oxilia,
Grazia Deledda and Luigi Capuana expressed themselves in favour of the new
medium. Ibid., p. 122.
15 ‘Ci sono sere vuote, quando si consulta invano la lista dei teatri. . .sere in cui il
cervello stanco non ha forza di attenzione e non desidera la buona commedia e il
buon libro, sere negate al cervello e all’arte’. (‘There are empty evenings, when we
in vain consult the list of theatres. . .evenings when the brain is tired and doesn’t
have the strength to be attentive and doesn’t desire the good comedy or the good
book, evenings negated to the brain and to art’). My translation, ibid., p. 96.
16 There are of course exceptions. In 1919, for example, the artist and intellectual P.
A. Gariazzo pointed to cinema’s dependency on theatre and concluded that ‘se
voleva vivere il cinematografo doveva trovare i propri ideali per sé stesso, far di a sé
stesso una cosa originale’. (‘if the cinema wanted to live, it needed find its own
ideals, to become original’.). My translation, ibid., p. 296.
17 I. O. Rajewsky, Intermedialität (Tübingen: Francke, 2002), I. O. Rajewsky,
‘Intermediality, Intertextuality, and Remediation: A Literary Perspective on
Intermediality’, Intermédialités/Intermedialities, 6 (2005), pp. 43–64, W. Wolf, The
Musicalization of Fiction: A Study in the Theory and History of Intermediality
(Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1999), and W. Wolf ‘Intermediality Revisited: Reflections on
Word and Music Relations in the Context of a General Typology of Intermediality’,
in S. M. Lodato, S. Aspden, and W. Bernhart (eds), Word and Music Studies: Essays
in Honor of Steven Paul Scher and on Cultural Identity and the Musical Stage
(Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2002), pp. 13–34. For intermedial relationships between
opera and film see B. Kuhn, Die Oper im italienischen Film (Essen: Die Blaue Eule,
2005), pp. 19–48.
18 Rajewsky, ‘Intermediality, Intertextuality, and Remediation’, p. 46. (Emphasis in
original.)
19 Medial transpositions take place mostly between entire works and a clear origin of
formal or content elements can be recognised. Considering film adaptations of
literary texts, for instance, literature would be the medium of origin and film the
target medium. See Wolf, ‘Intermediality Revisited’, p. 19.
The Operatics of Cabiria 15
20 Plurimediality, also referred to as ‘media combination’, is defined as the overt
presence of at least two distinct media on the surface of a given work in at least
one instance. Since film incorporates several semiotic sign systems, such as the
visual system of the camera, music or the sign system of acting, plurimediality is
always present as an intermedial concept in film. See Wolf, ‘Intermediality
Revisited’, p. 22.
21 Intermedial references can point to one specific work (‘individual reference’) or to
the other medium in general (‘system reference’). See ibid., p. 23.
22 Rajewsky, Intermedialität, pp. 83–5.
23 Wolf, ‘Intermediality Revisited’, p. 18.
24 J. S. de Oliveira. ‘Cabiria, una nuova sfida per il restuaro’, in S. Alovisio and
A. Barbera (eds), Cabiria & Cabiria (Torino: Il Castoro, 2006), p. 61. Since the
newly restored version has not yet been made commercially available, I will refer to
this version only if absolutely necessary for philological or other reasons and utilise
for my analysis primarily the existing DVD of Cabiria produced in 2000 by Kino on
Video. Unfortunately the DVD score is different from the original film score.
25 N. Pacini, ‘La promozione di Cabiria: I manifesti e le brochure’, in Alovisio and
Barbera (eds), Cabiria & Cabiria, p. 210.
26 Alovisio, ‘Il film che visse due volte’, pp. 24–6.
27 Pizzetti wrote to D’Annunzio on 14 December 1913: ‘Se poi si volesse da me una
musica sinfonica per il Suo romanzo cinematografico soltanto per far colpo sul
pubblico nelle prime rappresentazioni, salvo poi a lasciarla eseguire da
un’orchestrina pur che sia o da un pianoforte nelle rappr.[esentazioni] successive;
ebbene, in questo caso io non accetterei l’impegno.’ (‘If one were to ask from me
symphonic music for your cinematographic novel only to impress the audience
during the first representations, and then permitting it to be performed by a small
orchestra or a piano during the following representations; well, in that case, then I
would not accept the assignment’). My translation. (Emphasis in original). Quoted
in R. Calabretto, ‘La partitura del 1914 tra equivoci e malintesi’, in Alovisio and
Barbera (eds), Cabiria & Cabiria, p. 234.
28 E. Salgari, Cartagine in fiamme (Roma: Quiritta, 2001). G. Flaubert, Salammbô
(Paris: Éditions de Cluny, 1937).
29 L. Curreri, ‘Il mito culturale di Cartagine nel primo Novecento tra letteratura e
cinema’, in Alovisio and Barbera (eds), Cabiria & Cabiria, p. 303.
30 P. Fiorina, ‘Cartagine, teatro dell’immaginario. Su alcune tracce archeologiche nei
film muti italiani di ambientazione punica’, in Alovisio and Barbera (eds), Cabiria
& Cabiria, p. 100. Fiorina also points to a website dedicated to Archimedes created
by the New York University which offers an electronic link to certain paintings of
the famous mathematician: http://www.math.nyu.edu/~crorres/Archimedes/
Mirrors/Cabiria/Cabiria.html. Accessed 25 May 2013.
31 See Fiorina, ‘Cartagine, teatro dell’immaginario’, pp. 87–9.
32 Cabiria is not the only film about this period and with Lo schiavo di Cartagine
(1910, dir. Luigi Maggi, Ambrosio), Delenda Cartago (1914, dir. Luigi Maggi,
Ambrosio), and Salammbò (1914, dir. Domenico Gaido, Pasquali) there are at least
three other Italian works produced during the early 1910s.
33 E. Comuzio, ‘Le musiche di Cabiria: da Pizzetti-Mazza ad Avitabile-Ribas’, in
Alovisio and Barbera (eds), Cabiria & Cabiria, p. 246.
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film 39/216
34 Calabretto, ‘La partitura del 1914 tra equivoci e malintesi’, p. 232.
35 For Pizzetti’s thoughts about cinema and his collaboration on see ibid., pp. 232–5.
36 Quoted in Calabretto. See ibid., p. 234.
37 A: lento, un poco mosso, vivace, un poco meno mosso. B: largamente, poco più
mosso, largamente. A’: largo, come in principio, vivace. For a detailed musical
analysis see Calabretto, ‘La partitura del 1914’, pp. 236–8.
38 Ibid. See also E. Simeon, ‘Intese e malintesi fra parole, fotogrammi e note nel
cinema muto italiano: il caso di Cabiria’, in G. Dotoli (ed.), Musica, cinema e
letteratura. Atti del convegno Internazionale Martina Franca, 29-30 luglio 1996
(Fasano: Schena, 1997), pp. 101–12.
39 See ‘Antologia critica’ in Alovisio and Barbera (eds), Cabiria & Cabiria, pp. 383-
410. See also Calabretto, ‘La partitura del 1914’, p. 238.
40 The Moloch scene is also reminiscent of the cinema of attractions. At least during
the first part of the scene, the narrative aspect is secondary to the spectacular effect.
41 Alovisio even claims that the images with the priest, included for example in the
DVD version of the film produced by Kino on Video (2000), were not even part of
the 1914 film. See Alovisio, ‘Il film che visse due volte’, p. 33. On the other hand,
Simeon maintains that it is very likely that Pastrone intended synchrony between
voice and image during this scene and that it was actually achieved during the first
screenings. Simeon, ‘Intese e malintesi fra parole’, pp. 108–9.
42 Ibid., p. 109.
43 Comuzio, ‘Le musiche di Cabiria’, pp. 245–51, and Simeon, ‘Intese e malintesi fra
parole’, pp. 110–11.
44 Simeon, ‘Intese e malintesi fra parole’, p. 110.
45 According to Cristina Jandelli, Italia Almirante Manzini in Cabiria foreshadows the
divismo in Italian cinema. See C. Jandelli, ‘Per quanto immagini, sono riusciti a
farsi amare come persone vere: Attori, recitazione, personaggi in Cabiria’, in
Alovisio and Barbera (eds), Cabiria & Cabiria, p. 130. See also M. Landy, Stardom
Italian Style: Screen Performance and Personality in Italian Cinema (Bloomington
and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2008), pp. 15–16.
46 Regarding the adaptation of acting codes from theatre to cinema, Roberta E.
Pearson distinguishes between the histrionic acting code and the verisimilar code.
She defines histrionic acting as performance in a ‘self-consciously theatrical fashion,
ostentatiously playing a role rather than pretending to be another person’. During
the nineteenth century, stage actors typically selected their gestures and attitudes
from a standardised repertoire. See R. E. Pearson, Eloquent Gestures: the
Transformation or Performance Style in the Griffith Biograph Films (Berkeley and
Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1992), p. 21. Ben Brewster and Lea
Jacobs point correctly to the difficulty in defining nineteenth century theatrical
acting styles in opposition to realistic acting styles and underscore that the
transition of acting styles from stage to film was actually more complex. Cf.
Brewster and Jacob, Theatre to Cinema (Oxford and New York: Oxford University
Press, 1997), pp. 99-110. Although film actors modified stage practices and applied
them differently on film, in early Italian cinema, film actors often include histrionic
elements into their performances. While Pearson as well as Brewster and Jacobs
primarily refer to acting practices of spoken drama, I would argue that the
adaptation of operatic acting codes is equally relevant in early Italian cinema.
The Operatics of Cabiria 17
47 Brunetta, Storia del cinema italiano, p. 167.
48 A. Dalle Vacche, The Body in the Mirror: Shapes of History in the Italian Cinema
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), pp. 31–2.
49 See M. Landy, Italian Film (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), pp. 37–8.
50 Ibid., p. 36. While Aida’s tragic story is told against the backdrop of the conflict
between Egypt and Ethiopia, Cabiria tells a private story against the backdrop of
the historical event of the Second Punic war. The film thus connects the private
and public sphere, which is characteristic for the genres of grand opera and
melodrama. The conflict between private and public or love and duty is of course
not an invention of nineteenth century opera and exists in many previous periods
and genres as well. Another relevant grand opera is Reyer’s Salambô (1890),
although a contemporary Italian audience might have been more familiar with
Aida.
51 In opposition to the genre of grand opera stands the happy ending of the film with
Cabiria and Fulvio on the ship sailing home. However, like Radamés and Aida in
the last scene of Aida, the lovers are united. Their feelings are expressed by the
angels, which form a circle around the ship and the romantic image of Maciste
who plays the flute.
52 I. Le fiamme dell’ Etna (The Flames of Etna), II. La fiamma di Moloch (The Flame
of Moloch), III. Roma e Carthago. La fiamma di odio (Rome and Carthage. The
Flame of Hate); IV. Le fiamme di Archimede (The Flames of Archimedes); V. Altre
fiamme (Other Flames). See Alovisio, ‘Il film che visse due volte’, p. 21.
53 See Comuzio, ‘Le musiche di Cabiria’, p. 251. This operatic reference within the
film score can be best described as ‘partial recreation’ since film imitates opera with
the semiotic system (music) it has in common with opera.
54 For the popularity of opera in Italy see F. Nicolodi, ‘Opera Production from the
Italian Unification to the Present’, in L. Bianconi and G. Pestelli, Opera Production
and its Resources (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), pp. 165–92.
55 This is the second time in Cabiria Pastrone employs the double exposure
technique. The first time, its function is to visualise Sofonisba’s dream.
Contributor
Bernhard Kuhn is Associate Professor of Italian Studies at Bucknell University
(Lewisburg, PA), where he directs the Italian Studies program and teaches
Italian language, culture and cinema. He received his doctorate degree in
Romance Philology from the University of Bamberg (Germany). His current
areas of research include Italian cinema, nineteenth- and twentieth-century
Italian culture, intermediality and, in particular, the relationship between opera
and cinema. He is the author of Die Oper im italienischen Film (Essen: Die
Blaue Eule, 2005) and several articles concerning intermedial aspects of the
relationship between stage media and film. E-mail: bkuhn@bucknell.edu.
Nineteenth Century Theatre and Film 39/218