Descriptive Essay On The Magic Lantern Scene

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Magic Lantern MaryAlice pushed open the door of the darkened screening room, and the shaft of light from the hallway stabbed through the black all the way over to the screen. “Eeehhh!” The sound was definitely John, but strained, muffled, near a word but not a word. She stepped inside and let the door close behind her. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she waited to hear the soundtrack of whatever John was watching. She heard nothing but the consistent train track click of the projector from the back of the room. She squinted her eyes, waiting for the hazy block of brightness across the room to clarify itself. It took shape slowly, a rectangle filled with black and white shimmer. The shuddering blink on the screen seemed at first …show more content…

It was a silent film, hand-cranked when filmed, and the image rushed and lulled with the uneven swing of the cinematographer’s hand. The shot was a single, static take, unadorned. This film was from at least thirty years ago, maybe longer. What was in the picture, though, was spectacular. A choir of fifteen angels, maybe more. They were just men in white robes, metal frame wings atop their backs, standing on bleachers covered in sheets. But in the midst of this scratched-up, grainy old footage, the wings popped in golden contrast. The color squiggled and swirled on the screen; the film was clearly made before the advent of color, but someone who cared enough about the impact of the film went back in, frame by frame, using paint and a tiny brush to add a golden sheen to every angel’s wing. It was accidental genius; she stared at it, silent, momentarily forgetting the reason she came in the room. The shoddiness of the rest of the film, the amateur framing and the stilted performances, it was like they all existed to make you underestimate, to dismiss, and then to surprise you with the simple beauty of the …show more content…

John nodded slowly. In the dark, with the flashing of the film, she couldn’t be sure, but it looked like tears were pooling on his lower eyelid, refusing to fall. “Mom and Dad watched those people mesmerized by the movie, just like I did,” he said, pulling in a slow breath. “I saw the most meaningful way to communicate with another human being that has ever existed. They saw a way to sell Jesus like Tupperware.” MaryAlice reached over and squeezed his arm with her fingers. “You still believe in Jesus after all that?” John nodded, smiling. “I still believe in movies, too.” MaryAlice turned her eyes back to the screen. The angels had returned, and gold winked around the edges of the frame. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, squeezing his arm tighter. “You’re going to find a job.” “I know, I’ll find a job,” he said. “Do you know how to get in contact with that damn carpetbagger?” MaryAlice said, peeking over at John through the corner of her eyes. He turned to her, mouth open; the teardrops shuddered on his eyelids, then spilled down his face. “Because we’re making Queen of the Moon.” THE

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