Four stars. Not rated, and suitable for all ages
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.26.15
Our digital age has unleashed countless
miracles, and one of the best is the growing cornucopia of archival material
that is becoming available to anybody with Internet access.
 |
| California Gov. Pat Brown, at the microphones, prepares to introduce presidential candidate John F. Kennedy during the latter's whistle-stop visit to Sacramento in September 1960. You can't see Kennedy in this image, although the president-to-be is standing directly behind Brown, just inside the dark train car. (Photo courtesy of the Center for Sacramento History) |
Time was, researchers or curious
civilians were limited to hard copies of vintage documents, audio recordings
and newsreel footage stored on site, at locations with limited public hours ...
if they offered visiting hours at all. If you lived in San Francisco and wanted
to investigate something that existed only at some repository in San Diego,
that represented a significant investment of time and expense. Not
surprisingly, most folks simply wouldn’t bother.
Things are different today, with
access to such materials no more difficult than firing up a laptop in your
living room.
And, as a charming and
informative new documentary amply demonstrates, you simply won’t believe what has
become available.
The Sacramento Picture is
written, directed and produced by Sacramento-area historian and film critic
Matías Antonio Bombal, who also narrates (and has a talent for deliciously
droll asides). Editing and post-production are by Chad E. Williams, and the two
of them have assembled a lively 95-minute glimpse of what can be found at the
Center for Sacramento History.
The film will screen one time
only, at 7 p.m. Wednesday, April 29, at Sacramento’s Tower Theater. Tickets are
modestly priced, and the experience is well worth the cost.
The Center, the larger regional
history repository in California, has a mission to preserve and protect its
collection, while also making its contents available to the general public. The
material is slowly being digitized and made available via the web, thanks to the California
Audiovisual Preservation Project, a joint effort between UC Berkeley and the
Institute of Museum and Library Services.
Bombal’s film is an engaging
blend of archival footage and on-camera commentary by folks such as historian
William Burg, journalist Ginger Rutland and beloved former KCRA newsman Stan
Atkinson, who provide context for the video sequences.
They’re quite a treat.
The oldest footage, dating back
to 1910, reveals the scope of Sacramento’s then-quite enormous hops-growing
industry. Another vintage clip, filmed on opening day (April 6) of the 1920
“Base-ball season” at Sacramento’s Buffalo Park, shows streetcars bringing
throngs of fans to watch their beloved Sacramento Senators take on the visiting
Seattle Indians.
Buffalo Park sat at the corner of
Broadway and Riverside, where a Target store and parking lot are found today, just
a few blocks from the Tower Theater.
School children are glimpsed in a
1935 segment filmed at the venerable Marshall School. A visit to the school
nurse alternates with recess activities and a session in a music appreciation
class, where — rather unexpectedly — the young students are seen wearing
headphones, “so as not to disturb adjacent classrooms.”
Bombal and Williams execute some
ingenious editing magic during another segment, starting with an establishing
shot in today’s downtown Sacramento, which morphs perfectly — the exact same
viewing angle — into some 1937 footage of the merry hustle and bustle of the
Sacramento Junior Traffic Patrol Parade, as everybody marches south down 7th
Street and crosses “Jay” (J) Street.
A lengthy segment proudly
profiles Sacramento’s WWII effort, by spending an afternoon with “Mr. and Mrs.
Sacramento Victory Gardener” — actually Prentiss R. Ferguson, his wife and
their two young children — as they harvest and then enjoy a meal of home-grown
veggies.
And here’s a fun fact: Walt
Disney was commissioned to draw the iconic bees — Scoopy and Gaby — that became
well-recognized mascots for, respectively, the Sacramento Bee newspaper and
radio station KFBK. Disney patriotically donated his $1,500 fee to the war
effort.
Fast-forward a few years, to
1953, and we watch excited children line up outside the Tower Theater, in order
to watch a matinee screening of The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms.
Atkinson then takes center stage,
recalling his 1957 arrival at KCRA Channel 3, accompanied by vintage footage of
his youthful self. He celebrates longtime colleague Harry Sweet, a station
cameraman who had the foresight to realize that the news stories they created
and aired, day after day, eventually would be regarded as a priceless
historical record.
Sweet therefore began to squirrel
away stacks of film canisters: initially at the KCRA studios, and then — when
station execs objected — at his own home. Much of what the Center for
Sacramento History possesses, and is previewed in Bombal’s film, is possible
only because of Sweet’s efforts. (No surprise, then, that he gets a poignant dedication
during the closing credits.)
Next, we’re intrigued by Bombal’s
matter-of-fact presentation of how the “tone” of local news coverage has
changed, over time. This distinction often is amusing, as with people
interviewed during “person on the street” segments; they talk awkwardly,
quickly flustered, due to the novelty of confronting a microphone.
One woman, asked to comment on
Russia’s Luna 2 spacecraft landing on the Moon on September 14, 1959 — thus beating
the United States — tartly replies, “I wish all the Russians would go to the
Moon ... and stay there!”
Alternatively, the difference in
tone can be shocking, as with the quite graphic coverage of crime and vehicular
accidents, the camera often looming over bloodied victims: all quite typical of
the late 1950s.
Things turn even more serious
during the early stages of the 1960 Capitol Mall redevelopment project, which —
as Rutland pointedly explains — displaced homes and businesses belonging
primarily to people of color. Japanese shop owners are particularly incensed by
what they perceive as the same callous indifference that led to their forced
relocation to internment camps during World War II.
Elsewhere, a gaggle of “typical
citizens” visit Lockheed’s production facility, staring and giggling at a
just-constructed U.S. Air Force Titan intercontinental ballistic missile. One
civilian eagerly pushes a button that causes the missile’s second stage to rise
slowly from its base: a sequence that evokes memories of ridiculous special
effects in cheap 1950s sci-fi movies.
Bombal chooses silence here,
allowing the image to speak for itself ... although the scene is counterpointed
by some ironically hilarious music.
On a lighter note, we witness an
August 1960 visit to Sacramento by British film sexpot Diana Dors, the “Siren
of Swindon,” who attracts a swarm of eager male fans.
Bombal shares another fun fact as
we watch representatives from Sacramento’s KVIE Channel 6 — which debuted Feb.
23, 1959 — celebrate their first birthday in the summer of 1960, while
receiving a proclamation from the city mayor. The station’s call letters have specific
meaning: The “VI” represents their channel (6), while the “E” stands for
“educational.”
Who knew?
Bombal wisely saves the best for
last: a jaw-dropping clip of John F. Kennedy’s September 1960 train-bound visit
to Sacramento, as part of his whistle-stop campaign. As enthusiastic crowds
display banners that read “Welcome to Sac, Jack!,” Gov. Pat Brown introduces
Kennedy, who then delivers a brief but quite inspirational speech.
Amazing stuff.
Be sure to remain for the entire
closing credits, in order to hear “Sacramento, CA USA,” a clever and witty song
performed by Greg Sabin, Patrick Skiffington and The Freebadge Serenaders. (They
obviously spent hours studying Tom Lehrer.)
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