The Life and Death of 9413, a Hollywood Extra (1928) Online

Robert Florey, who came to the United States in 1921 as a reporter for French film journals, quickly had the idea for a short picture based on the impressions of an "everyman" actor who dreams of becoming a star, only to have his hopes crumble. A few years later, attending a performance of George Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue," Florey was inspired to write a "continuity in musical rhythm of the adventures of my extra in Hollywood, the movements and attitudes of which appeared to synchronize themselves with Gershwin's notes." The script was worked out in precise detail, shot by shot, determining the precise footage needed, a necessity because the $97 budget was coming entirely out of Florey's pocket.

Only three professional performers appeared, with the title role enacted by Jules Raucourt, formerly a leading man who by then was unemployed and nearly forgotten. The vapid star was portrayed by Voya George, and the starlet was played by Adriane Marsh, an authentic extra. Presenting himself to the representative of the studio establishment, Mr. Almighty, John Jones is inscribed with a number on his forehead, 9413. Other performers audition at the same time, and one of them has a completely bland, expressionless face (George). George dons a series of masks, mimicking other well-known actors in an effort to compensate for his own lack of personality, and a star instead of a number is inscribed on his forehead.

Raucourt is daily faced with the haunting sign, "no casting today." Yet whether auditioning or unemployed, the actors become automatons under the direction of a large, pointing hand in the foreground of many shots. Finally, Raucourt dies of privation, represented by the cutting of a film strip. Despite the mockery of the Raucourt's fellow performers, he ascends to Heaven (depicted as the opposite direction from Hollywood), where the offensive number is erased and he becomes an angel. The denouement is intended as both a fitting cap to the melodramatic story and a satire on Hollywood's traditional happy endings.

A Hollywood EXTRA not only has a surreal story, but is rendered in an expressionist manner. Shapes, angles, and disorientation are its visual hallmarks, with three basic types of compositions: miniatures, close-ups with live actors, and newsreel-type scenes of Hollywood and the studios. The faces of the three performers are often kept partially in shadow, blocking off part of their features and depriving them of wholeness. A casting director is mocked with an extreme close-up revealing only his mouth stuffed with a cigar, one hand holding a phone and the other shaking a pointed finger. The acting is in an overwrought, tormented vein that compliments the expressionistic visuals. Miniature sets were constructed by Slavko Vorkapich out of paper cubes, cigar boxes, tin cans, children's toys, and other odds and ends. They represent buildings and geometrical designs, and are characterized by distortion and superimposition, quivering and reflecting light in a myriad of directions according to the mood.

In contrast to the artificial scenes of the city are newsreel-type shots of the streets and local sights of Hollywood. Film-making is symbolized by scenes of previews, spotlights crisscrossing the night sky, and moving cameras, reels, and dangling celluloid strips. While authentic in content, these scenes are often shot from a wildly moving or tilted camera, and edited into rapid juxtapositions.

Most of the camera-work was done by Florey and Vorkapich, with some additional work by 28 year old Paul Ivano. All the lighting was provided by a single 400-watt bulb, Vorkapich creating some of the spectacular illumination of the miniatures. Gregg Toland, then age 23 and assistant cameraman, had use of a Mitchell camera, which allowed some shots which would have been impossible with the DeVry. These scenes included some three hundred feet of close-ups and what Florey called "trick stuff--four or five exposures on one plate." A Hollywood EXTRA was edited to a one-reel length of 1,200 feet, with special attention to tempo and rhythm. Upon the completion of A Hollywood EXTRA, Florey showed the film to his friend Charlie Chaplin (in 1946, the two would co-direct MONSIEUR VERDOUX). Chaplin was so impressed that he invited the elite of Hollywood to a screening at his home, and to Florey's surprise "the producers and stars present were vitally interested in this new technique and at the unexpected angles of the shots." Eventually A Hollywood EXTRA was released by F.B.0. to over 700 theaters in America alone.

A Hollywood EXTRA, was not only welcomed by Hollywood, but later remade as a feature, Hollywood BOULEVARD (Paramount, 1936), co-authored and directed by Florey. The central figure is again an actor, looking for a job amidst the cruel splendors of movieland, dependent on the whims of public fancy and the vagaries of producers. The theme was echoed through the appearance of over two dozen former stars in supporting and cameo roles. Stylistically, Hollywood BOULEVARD opens with an extraordinary 2 ½ minute credit sequence including 30 different shots. It ends on a slanted shot of a boulevard street sign as the traffic signal clangs to read "GO" as the story commences; the picture concludes with the sign changing to read "STOP." Throughout the first reel, startling angles reflecting the disordered nature of movie life, described in dialogue as "crazy, senseless and exciting." The direction both makes light of, and pays lip service to, the conventional excesses of such cinematic self-portraits.

Florey had an early appreciation of the cinema's heritage and a passion for film lore, becoming known as one of the outstanding chroniclers of Hollywood and movie history, for which he won the Legion of Honor from his native France in 1950. His writing on the history of Hollywood, all of it in French, continued until his death in 1979, with his twelth and last such book published posthumously in 1986.

The ultra-low budget of this film clearly shows in the extreme close-ups of faces, searchlights and office space (avoiding the need for background sets!) and stylised landscape model work: but it forms a surreal style all of its own, as extra 9413 learns to mouth 'blah blah blah' instead of talking and don bland masks instead of his own face... none of which does him any good in a world where the 'Casting today' signs always slide out further to reveal their true nature: "NO casting today". His female counterpart, dancing puppet-like to the director's tune (and perhaps his casting couch?) does rather better.

In this film, Hollywood is Hell and bliss is to become a free man and not a number. Sardonic social commentary without a single word.

Miniature expressionist sets are the real star of Life & Death of 9413: A Hollywood Extra (1927), & render this partially a work of animation. It's on the National Registry as a work of cultural significance.

The thirteen-minute story symbolically criticized the maltreatment of Hollywood extras.

Our naive hero, John Jones (Jules Raucourt), arrives in Art Deco Hollywood all smiles & dreams.

He has a letter of introduction that gets him hired by a casting agent (Robert Florey being quite antic in the film he wrote & co-directed).

As an extra he's known thereafter as 9413, the number being printed right on his forehead. Now begins the endless wait for his number to come up.

Other numbers become automatons with fading dreams, but 9413 struggles to remain an individual.

Earning no money, falling deeper in debt for his rent, he is slowly starving to death, while imagining he is surrounded by scorpions.

At last he dies, but continues dreaming even in his coffin. He dreams he is ascending to heaven, or perhaps he really is ascending in the form of a heroic paper cut-out silhouette. In the firmament he becomes a shining star, with wings.

Reportedly filmed for $97.00, one reason it looks so incredible is thanks to cinematographer Gregg Toland, who went on to such amazing camera work on films like Citizen Kane.

This experimental short film (around 1000') demonstrates some clever techniques for the time. Note the crossed title sequence so that neither director has top bill.

The camera work is by Gregg Toland who would later film Citizen Kane and Wuthering Heights. Rumour has it that the half lighting so characteristic of Toland's later work was achieved by accident when one of the two lights blew!

There is some interesting hand held camera work in there too.

Life and Death of 9413, A Hollywood Extra (1927)

*** (out of 4)

A huge technical achievement from director Robert Florey who's best remembered today for his Bela Lugosi chiller Murders in the Rue Morgue. This short tells the story of an actor, number 9413, moving to Hollywood to become a star but hitting dirt instead. The "story" really isn't anything at all but the visuals, done through miniatures and mirrors, is quite nice to look at and pack a nice little punch.

Fans of early cinema should certainly check this out. A lot of what we see in future Florey films is on display here.

For more detailed information on this 11 minute silent film short from 1928 see the IMDb comments submitted by another reviewer here who described this film very educational detail. I recently saw this experimental film and found it very strange and oddly entertaining. It stars unknown actor George Voya as The Star and Jules Raucourt as 9413. Raucourt had a brief film career in lead roles and became a character actor and ironically an extra himself in the later stages of his career. Here Raucourt is a Hollywood extra with the number 9413 penned across his forehead. Voya who never launched an acting career is ironically The Star with a star drawn on his forehead. Adriane Marsh is a Hollywood extra that makes good. Director/producer/writer Robert Florey is the cigar chomping, telephone talking casting director in close up of his mouth and hands only. A black background with shadowing is used with paper cutouts and masks used as props and scenery. Florey and special effects/ writer/ director/editor Slavo Vorkapich co-wrote and co-directed this film. It was also the third and final film that young cinematographer Gregg Toland worked on with Florey and Vorkapich. Toland would go on to photograph such films as Wuthering Hwights. Intermezzo, The Grapes of Wrath, The Outlaw, Citizen Kane, The Best Years of Our Lives and The Bishops Wife among the many films in his talented career that earned him an Academy Award and six nominations before his untimely death at the age of 44 from heart disease in 1948. It's interesting here to see the early work of the budding genius of Toland. Florey enjoyed a long career as a director of B movies before moving into television in the 50's and 60's and directing dozens of popular series episodes like The Twilight Zone, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Outer Limits and Thriller. Again it's interesting to the work of a man like Florey who had a 40 plus year career in film early in that career and on a small budget. This film has been selected for preservation by the National Film Registry and deemed culturally significant by the Library of Congress. It's worth 11 minutes of your time to check it out if you are interested in the history and evolution of film. It's an experimental film and I would give this a 7 out of 10.

Although the screen time is not very long and no words are uttered by the characters, the telling of the tale is not shortchanged. Visually intriguing throughout, words are only used sparingly on the screen to illustrate focal points, and simple lip movements indicating communication from one character to another - an extremely effective tool to get the audience to pay attention to what is happening in the story. This was a clever instrument to not have the story hinge on the details of the character (more time for the director and writer to focus on the story in the telling), but also illuminates one of the key ideas of the story: you are nobody in Hollywood unless you are the star.

This is a truly bizarre little film from a truly bizarre collection of Avant Garde films from Kino Video. Because I apparently will watch almost anything, I gave the films on this DVD set a try. Most of them are truly impossible to rate--being too brief and being more like videotaped kinetic paintings. This one, however, plays a little more like an actual film--an "art" film at that.

The film is truly Avant Garde and makes no attempt to be "normal" or commercially viable. Instead, it would work out well at a strange little theater or coffee house--the sort of one the average person would probably never see in their lifetime. In its day, this film probably would have done well in Greenwich Village or Soho or some other such town.

The film is about a character with the number 9413 stamped on his head. There is no dialog, but tells the story of his getting the acting "bug", having some initial success and then followed by crushing defeat. It's very, very odd in style and probably would appeal to people to like mimes or Luis Buñuel films like Un Chien Andelou. This really is NOT meant as an insult or derogatory--it's just that for the correct audience, this is probably a GREAT film--it has excellent imagery and composition. But, the average person would no doubt be totally bored and hate this film.

If you ARE looking for an "artsy" film but find this type of film I described sounds too unusual or esoteric, maybe you should try the films of the great French artist/director Jean Cocteau. Other than his BLOOD OF A POET, his other films combine artistry and Avant Garde imagery with well-constructed plots and familiar movie elements. My favorites of his films are Orphée (Orpheus) and La Belle et la bête (Beauty and the Beast).

Madonna said it and this was actually already true in the 1920s as this 14-minute short film from almost 90 years ago shows us. We follow a man full of dreams when he comes to Hollywood, but luck is not on his side and so others become stars and he stays unknown. Actually, his fate gets worse and worse the longer the film goes, but at least there is solace at the end. It is a silent film, black-and-white and it got written and directed by Robert Florey and Slavko Vorkapich. Both had quite prolific careers in Hollywood themselves, so they got luckier than our tragic hero here. And both were also a lot more prolific than the actors in this film who did not enjoy such strong careers, or didn't want to. As a whole, it is an interesting film about how people are more than numbers and the references on film about film are smart as well, but still overall I found this a mediocre watch really for the most part. Sadly, some overacting too. I do not recommend seeing this one.

This short experimental film tells the story of a man (Jules Raucourt) who comes to Hollywood to become a star, only to find himself branded a lonely extra.

There is clearly talent behind this little-known film. Robert Florey, better known for "Murders in the Rue Morgue", directs. And his cinematographer is none other than Gregg Toland, who was the eyes behind many a major success, including "Citizen Kane".

This short shows that even as early as 1928, Hollywood had an appeal and glamor that would draw people in, only to be chewed up and spit out by the system. Actors are a dime a dozen... and while no picture would be complete without extras, they are nothing to the audience.

If you ever want to know when Hollywood became such a stressful place, where people gave up their lives to be a star, usually with no return, this little short can point you to way back in the silent era.

This little heavy-handed sequence deserves a lot of respect for its experimental uses of models, lighting, and different camera techniques at the time. Today it comes off as a bit heavy handed, a bit too obvious. Even when you know what's they're doing or trying to do, you can't help but giggle: "Heh, those are models!" Still, they're interestingly designed models.

A lot of the stuff working around actors and characters would have been really strong if it wasn't really so comical (which doesn't really work within the structure of the film because the film itself is rather dark and direct). The fish-out-of-water way they open and close their mouths and the over-acting does help to give the film an absurdist feel, but it also helps to not take the film very seriously.

--PolarisDiB