Director Segundo de Chomón did not start out a particularly innovative or great director in any sense of the word. His earliest works were short documentations of Spain (save a few more innovative shorts like "Collision of Trains" of 1902), proving himself a fine cinematographer and a wonderful film colorist; as he progressed in his career he learned of the great French director Georges Méliès, and attempted passionately to defeat him by surpassing his work without success. His earliest trick films sometimes were quite stagy, contained no new or different innovations in their tricks, and even occasionally were direct Méliès ripoffs--see "The Charmer" of 1907. In other words, he was only a copy-cat of his rival, and did not improve in any sense upon the work that came before him.
That lasted for the majority of his years working for Pathé, from 1901-1907. In 1908, something changed. He learned the art of stop-motion animation, and that was when he became much more innovative and influential. His films began to become more elaborate: instead of direct ripoffs and stagy magic trick shorts like his predecessor, he started incorporating closeups into his work, creating a much more elaborate film structure such as that Griffith would later pioneer. His stop-motion animation was utterly charming, utilized with good effect, and was something completely new that Méliès had never done before. And thus, with these new techniques on his side, he outdid the cliche stagy magic acts of his rival and brought those acts up to date.
"The Scullion's Dream" is a particularly remarkable and notable film because of how these effects are utilized. Instead of using them as a magic show, they are here part of an insignificant little story--a story used to set up the effects, but one nevertheless. In this six minute work, a bunch of kitchen boys are at work in the kitchen, messing around whenever their boss is gone. A dwarf appears and causes to materialize a little potion, which all drink and causes everyone to fall asleep. The dwarf reappears and proceeding to chop off all their hands with a large butcher knife, the hands start doing the work they neglected--including cutting a cabbage, weaving a basket, stacking plates, etc. As pointed out by the other reviewers, the last bit--in which a fly draws on a man's bald scalp--is rather unnecessary but adds a certain amount of charm and sets up the final gag.
Reviewer boblipton says that because of this "padding" at the end--which also serves to place a copyright notice--the short is lesser than what Méliès had done years before. I think quite the opposite. To cut to closeups to display the animation is part of what makes this actually ahead of the French master. Closeups would become more and more frequent during the early 1910s, but during the 1900s, it was quite revolutionary. Furthermore, and as stated above, new illusions--ones unseen before and masterfully executed. It is quite sad that these illusions cannot be seen in their full glory, however--the surviving print is very scratched and whited out, very low quality and thus making certain details hard to see. Nonetheless, well-executed and quite different compared to the repetitiveness of Méliès's work, which was losing lots of popularity by this point in film history.
That lasted for the majority of his years working for Pathé, from 1901-1907. In 1908, something changed. He learned the art of stop-motion animation, and that was when he became much more innovative and influential. His films began to become more elaborate: instead of direct ripoffs and stagy magic trick shorts like his predecessor, he started incorporating closeups into his work, creating a much more elaborate film structure such as that Griffith would later pioneer. His stop-motion animation was utterly charming, utilized with good effect, and was something completely new that Méliès had never done before. And thus, with these new techniques on his side, he outdid the cliche stagy magic acts of his rival and brought those acts up to date.
"The Scullion's Dream" is a particularly remarkable and notable film because of how these effects are utilized. Instead of using them as a magic show, they are here part of an insignificant little story--a story used to set up the effects, but one nevertheless. In this six minute work, a bunch of kitchen boys are at work in the kitchen, messing around whenever their boss is gone. A dwarf appears and causes to materialize a little potion, which all drink and causes everyone to fall asleep. The dwarf reappears and proceeding to chop off all their hands with a large butcher knife, the hands start doing the work they neglected--including cutting a cabbage, weaving a basket, stacking plates, etc. As pointed out by the other reviewers, the last bit--in which a fly draws on a man's bald scalp--is rather unnecessary but adds a certain amount of charm and sets up the final gag.
Reviewer boblipton says that because of this "padding" at the end--which also serves to place a copyright notice--the short is lesser than what Méliès had done years before. I think quite the opposite. To cut to closeups to display the animation is part of what makes this actually ahead of the French master. Closeups would become more and more frequent during the early 1910s, but during the 1900s, it was quite revolutionary. Furthermore, and as stated above, new illusions--ones unseen before and masterfully executed. It is quite sad that these illusions cannot be seen in their full glory, however--the surviving print is very scratched and whited out, very low quality and thus making certain details hard to see. Nonetheless, well-executed and quite different compared to the repetitiveness of Méliès's work, which was losing lots of popularity by this point in film history.