His name in the credits is as synonymous with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer as hearing Leo the Lion roar before a film. Douglas Shearer was MGM’s head sound designer and recording director. By some, Douglas Shearer could simply be reduced to the brother of actress Norma Shearer. He moved to Los Angeles from Canada to join his mother and two sisters (after not seeing them for four years). Norma became not only one of MGM’s movie queens but one of the biggest global stars of the 1930s.

The transition from silent to talking pictures was an uncertain time in Hollywood. Shearer, an engineer by trade, muscled his way in and with his significant inventions, transformed talking pictures and filmmaking. “During his more than 40 years with MGM, he contributed more than any other man in Hollywood to the perfection of motion picture sound,” said writer and filmmaker, Ephraim Katz. But Douglas paved his own way and was conscious of the implications of nepotism. He went so far as living by himself away from his family, making a point that he was not connected to Norma. He didn’t need Norma’s star power, though it probably didn’t hurt in making initial connections.

Shearer’s first job in Hollywood was in the prop room, where he called himself “assistant animal guy,” as he wrangled several pigeons, cows, chickens and pigs, according to film historian Gavin Lambert. While working with the livestock, it was the discussion of sound that peaked Shearer’s interest. He pitched an experiment to MGM of adding sound to a film trailer, and in turn, was given a job in special effects at MGM. “I had enough background in industrial plants and mechanicals so that I thought the competition wouldn’t be too tough,” Lambert quotes Shearer.

By 1928, Shearer was the head of MGM’s sound department — a position he held for 40 years. “Overnight, I was the one-man sound department,” Lambert quotes Shearer. MGM was the last major studio to make the conversion to sound, and they relied heavily on Shearer. He visited Bell Laboratories in New Jersey to study the latest equipment and hired a team.

With “more stars than there are in heaven,” MGM’s look was important, but so was its sound. “Douglas gave it a clarity and spaciousness unequalled at the time,” Lambert wrote. But Shearer didn’t just learn how to produce sound in the early days, he had to eliminate extraneous sounds. The cameras of the late-1920s were loud, so his team developed a quieter camera. He also faced issues of microphone placement, which was solved by creating a moving microphone on the boom to move with the actors, according to film historian Charles Foster.

Shearer created other innovations that became industry standards and landmarks, such as:

• The first lion’s roar that was heard behind the MGM logo.
• Shearer suggested synchronized singing with already recorded music for THE BROADWAY MELODY (’29), which became standard procedure with the playback system.
• He electronically created Tarzan’s famous yell.
• Shearer was able to “retouch” singing. For example, he would adjust the soundtrack frame by frame if a singer like Jeanette MacDonald went flat in the high-note range.

With a total of 14 Academy Awards, Shearer was awarded seven competitive awards from 1930 to 1958, ranging from Best Sound, Recording to Best Special Effect and seven others for technical and scientific achievements. He received the award for Best Sound the first year it was introduced for the film THE BIG HOUSE (’30).

Always innovative, Shearer’s projects took him outside of sound as well. He developed an improved system of color process photography. He also worked on the 65mm big screen look for BEN-HUR (’59).

During World War II, he took a hiatus from films to help the government. Shearer helped with the research and development of radar and devices that determine when and where nuclear explosions take place, according to his New York Times 1971 obituary. When President Roosevelt offered Shearer a civilian award for his work, this was one accolade he declined. “I didn’t do it for the personal glory,” Shearer told Roosevelt. “I did it to help save lives and get the war over and done with.”

Though Shearer is considered by many one of the most influential figures of Hollywood history, it’s those in front of the camera, like his sister Norma, that are better remembered today. In a 1963 interview, actor Spencer Tracy noted that Shearer was the only person he knew to have a plethora of Academy Awards and to never be seen on screen. “He has made many stars by his achievements … I wonder where I would have been today if it wasn’t for the genius of this man,” Tracy said. “He is a star himself, but he will never admit it.”

The Academy Awards has a long and complicated history of recognizing international films. The Best Foreign Language Film category, now the Best International Feature Film, was an attempt to rectify this and give international filmmakers, with films in languages other than English, an opportunity to earn the coveted Oscar statuette.

It all started with Conrad Nagel. He was one of the founding members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS). When he and 35 fellow members of the film industry convened at the Ambassador Hotel in 1927 to discuss the path forward for the organization, Nagel suggested that “International” be included in the title. According to writer Michael S. Barrett, “he was persuaded to drop the International and for many years AMPAS appeared specifically dedicated to American films.”

Prior to 1957, foreign language films struggled to get noticed by the Academy. Jean Renoir’s GRAND ILLUSION (’37) was the first international film nominated for Best Picture. Other films were recognized in categories such as Best Writing and Best Art Direction, but these instances were few and far between. Then came WWII, which had a major impact on international filmmaking. Barrett writes, “out of the ashes of war came a crop of innovative filmmakers champing at the bit to do something creative and useful, and this was shown in the new styles of moviemaking under which they labored, fervently promoted and eventually attained undying fame.” American audiences were drawn to Italian Neorealism, Japanese Jidaigeki and later the French New Wave as exciting and new forms of cinema. 

For the 20th Academy Awards in 1948, AMPAS’ Board of Governors created an honorary award for Best Foreign Language Film. At first it was not a competitive award. There were no nominees, the Board would select just one film and while the honorary award was presented during the ceremony, news of the winner would often be announced before the ceremony. From 1948 to 1956, eight foreign language films were awarded, including SHOESHINE (’46) and BICYCLE THIEVES (’48) from Italy; MONSIEUR VINCENT (’47), THE WALLS OF MALAPAGA (’49) and FORBIDDEN GAMES (’52) from France; and RASHOMON (’50), GATE OF HELL (’53) and SAMURAI I: MUSASHI MIYAMOTO (’54) from Japan. Interesting to note that they completely skipped the award in 1954 and no explanation was given as to why.

The special achievement award morphed into a competitive one in 1957. Countries could submit one film for competition as long as they fit the Academy’s strict criteria. Films had to be longer than 40 minutes to be considered feature length, from a country outside the US and include more than 50% non-English dialogue. But of course, to be considered, English-language subtitles were necessary. Only the country’s officially designated representative could submit a film for consideration. The Academy would then select five nominees from the submissions and members voted on secret ballots. The rules shifted over time. Since 2006, it’s no longer required that the language spoken in the film be the most commonly spoken language of that country. Also rules about both public and private Academy screenings in the Los Angeles area have changed and now a film no longer has to be screened in the U.S. to qualify. Technically, the winner of the Oscar is the country of origin and not the director or producer, however they are usually the ones to accept the award at the ceremony.

The first Best Foreign Language Film was presented by AMPAS president George Seaton to Italy for Federico Fellini’s LA STRADA (’54). The award was accepted by producer Dino De Laurentiis. Early winners included France’s BLACK ORPHEUS (’59) and MON UNCLE (’58), Sweden’s THE VIRGIN SPRING (’60) and Italy’s NIGHTS OF CABIRIA (’57) and 8-½ (’63). Some critically acclaimed foreign films were overlooked because they either weren’t submitted by their native country or were disqualified for some reason or another. These included major films like LA DOLCE VITA (’60) and THE SEVENTH SEAL (’57). And if a foreign film was screened in the US, it had a better chance at winning the coveted prize. Once a foreign language film won the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, it would be screened in the U.S., qualifying it for other competitive categories, like Best Director, Best Writing, Best Costume Design, etc. the following year.

Presenters for this category have almost always been either actors or the current AMPAS president. Jack Valenti, longtime president of the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) holds the record for most presentations for this category. Having recently watched all of the televised presentations and acceptance speeches on the Academy’s YouTube channel, I couldn’t help but notice the consistent trend of flowery speeches about the universal language of cinema. A few presenters stood out. Stars like Jane Fonda and Anthony Quinn openly criticized the use of the word “foreign” in the category. It’s always been required that the winner deliver their speech in English. As acceptance speeches grew longer over time, many filmmakers, especially from war torn nations, would seize the moment and the platform to deliver a poignant message.

There are three acceptance speeches that stand out to me. Perhaps the most famous one is from 1999 when actor/director Roberto Benigni accepted the award for LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL (’98). Benigni leapt from his seat, walked over guests, hopped up the steps and gave presenter Sophia Loren the biggest hug. His speech was incredibly emotional and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house by the end of it. My second favorite was delivered by director Alfonso Cuaron for his film ROMA (2018). While the Academy hasn’t publicly admitted this, I think Cuaron’s speech, in which he very gently criticizes the category and thanks the nominees who “have proven that we are part of the same ocean,” influenced change. The following year the Academy quickly pivoted and changed the category to Best International Feature Film. Dutch director Fons Rademakers whose film THE ASSAULT (’86) won in 1987, delivers my favorite speech. In it, he speaks to the general aversion to foreign language films by saying “This Foreign Language Oscar has a request… please don’t let subtitles scare you off as much as they seem to do from time to time.” Take his advice. Watch more international films!

“You react against the devaluation of cinema and movies by showing up,” Martin Scorsese remarked after accepting the inaugural Robert Osborne Award at the 2018 TCM Classic Film Festival. Scorsese’s nonprofit organization, The Film Foundation (TFF), has been showing up by promoting the preservation of our cinematic heritage for 30 years. This month, TCM salutes that anniversary by showcasing five evenings of TFF-supported restorations. Recently, I had the opportunity to ask the TFF team about their history and some of the unique programs and projects they’ve created and participated in throughout the years.

TFF officially launched in 1990, but the idea formed years before, evolving from studio meetings Scorsese took in the late 1980s with UCLA Film & Television Archive director Robert Rosen to advocate for protecting studios’ libraries “title by title.” Once TFF opened its doors, Scorsese and various board members (including filmmakers such as Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas), hit the ground running to secure funds and foster projects between studios and archives.

TFF worked to spread the word about the importance of preservation early on, collaborating on events like AMC’s 1993 on-air Film Preservation Festival, which featured interviews with archivists and showcased restorations like BECKY SHARP (’35), the first feature shot in three-strip Technicolor.

Technology now allows for photochemical and digital restoration practices, both of which TFF supports. It seems as if each project has its own tale, from TFF’s first digital restoration, in 2006, of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s THE RED SHOES (’48), a Technicolor film so damaged that it couldn’t have been corrected without digital tools, to Barbara Loden’s directorial debut and swansong WANDA (’70), for which the original 16mm camera negative was triumphantly saved from a lab in the process of closing, one day away from being destroyed.

With so many movies out there, it’s impossible to save them all. So, how are TFF’s projects chosen? While some archives suggest culturally essential titles in need of attention, other little-known titles are proposed by Scorsese or board members. TFF facilitates and promotes the resulting restorations, which are funded and carried out by studios and various rightsholders.

One project the team highlighted was Marcel Ophüls’ 1976 historic 278-minute documentary THE MEMORY OF JUSTICE, restored in partnership with the Academy Film Archive and Paramount Pictures. The 10-year process remains unprecedented in TFF’s history, and it involved a vast amount of rights clearances for exhibition purposes – a total of 386 clips and 24 music cues! Furthermore, when the original French, German and English recordings were located, Ophüls wanted to use them for the restoration instead of the English dubbing that viewers heard in 1976; thus, subtitles in all three languages were crafted, which the team said gave the film “new power and authenticity.”

TCM’s salute, spotlighting classics such as DODSWORTH (’36) and DETOUR (’45), represents a small percentage of TFF’s work. The organization’s goal stretches far and wide. In 30 years, they’ve aided in the restoration of over 850 silent and sound features, shorts, documentaries, avant-garde, independent and home movies from around the globe. In seeking to save work from underrepresented genres and filmmakers, TFF has supported the restoration of independent movies like Bill Gunn’s GANJA & HESS (’73), while also creating and funding the Avant-Garde Masters Grant in 2003 in partnership with the National Film Preservation Foundation to save experimental works that might otherwise fly under the radar, like several from women and LBGTQ+ directors.

With a worldwide lens, Scorsese started the World Cinema Project (WCP) in 2007 to help preserve film heritage in countries with limited archival resources, where movies face a higher risk of being lost forever. So far, the initiative has helped restore 42 films from 25 countries, and their exhibition and distribution, whether at global film festivals, on DVD or streaming, give these pictures new life by allowing audiences the opportunity to discover them. “It’s difficult for a movie to be any part of film history when it is unknown,” the team explained.

TFF’s most recent World Cinema Project restoration, in partnership with Cineteca di Bologna, was Mohammad Reza Aslani’s long thought lost Iranian film CHESS OF THE WIND (’76). The Islamic regime banned Aslani’s picture after its sole screening at the Tehran International Film Festival, but luckily, the original negatives were uncovered in a Tehran shop in 2015 and returned to the director, who helped oversee the restoration with his daughter. After being suppressed for so many years, the film has acquired new admirers at festivals worldwide thanks to this restoration.

In addition to salvaging gems from our cinematic heritage, TFF also supports a variety of educational initiatives. Not only has the organization presented preservation and restoration workshops around the globe, but they’ve also helped instill a respect for cinema through their free cross-curricular educational program The Story of Movies, established in 2005. As the first series crafted by film professionals in conjunction with educators, The Story of Movies not only teaches the cultural and historic importance of the medium but also guides students on how to apply critical thinking skills and “read” a film. In having reached about 10 million students across the nation (and with an international program in China), The Story of Movies continues to enrich learners’ minds and enlighten future filmmakers and scholars.

At year 30, The Film Foundation remains fiercely passionate about its purpose and intimately in touch with the challenges the industry faces. As preservation is a constant process, the team looks ahead with resolve and confidence, confiding in me that they’re “up for the challenge and excited to continue to discover great films that were feared lost.”

In 1907, Australian born competitive swimmer, women’s advocate and world record breaker Annette Kellerman was arrested for indecent exposure on Revere Beach in Massachusetts. She wore a fitted bathing suit that exposed her arms, legs and neck. And although she was jailed, her audacious stance would prove to be a pivotal point in the evolution of freeing the female form. However, in order to understand why Kellerman’s conduct was so scandalous, we have to review the past.

Hygiene in the 19th century was questionable to say the least and beach-going was not a typical activity. Known as “bathing costumes,” swimwear of the late 1800s were cumbersome, unflattering and uncomfortable. Victorian fashion, stocked with bustles, corsets and multiple layers of clothing, were phasing out as a result of increased intrigue to the newest social sporting activity, bicycling. In order to participate, women’s voluminous garments had to be stripped down to manageable practicality. Women, who now had the same access to this new freedom of transportation as men, wore bloomers, taking part in the sport and experiencing autonomy, which fed the blossoming suffragette movement.

Bathing costumes consisted of oversize dark-colored tops made of wool or flannel, bloomers or short pants, and stockings. Weights were sewn into the hemlines of the costume tops, to prevent floating once submerged. Bathing boots were generally worn as means of further concealment; however, they were also used pragmatically as protection against foreign debris underfoot.

The beginning of the 20th century ushered in the wasp-waist, pigeon-breasted “S” shape silhouette of the Edwardian era. As concern with hygienic health grew, the privileged class (compelled by the modern theory of saltwater’s healing capabilities) began to gravitate to the seaside. Naturally beach-going would work itself into the mainstream. The use of bathing machines became prevalent. Women would change into their bathing costumes inside of a horse-drawn (or at times manpower was used) wooden room that would transport them to the water, where a woman could then discretely bathe.

For the free-spirited revolutionist, Kellerman stitched hosiery onto her controversial one-piece bathing suit in order to arrive at a resolution with the court. This resulted in a number of women exchanging their ill-fitting costumes for increasingly comfortable bathing suits. Kellerman’s story was depicted in the splashy MGM aqua-musical film, MILLION DOLLAR MERMAID (‘52) starring swimming mega-star, Esther Williams.

Before Kellerman’s career was over, she starred on vaudeville, became an author and silent movie star, appearing in over eight films, and is credited as having the first nude scene in a feature-length film as seen in A DAUGHTER OF THE GODS (‘16). Although she was the catalyst for measurable advancement, ironically, Kellerman was not an avid fan of the bikini. In a 1953 Boston Globe interview, she stated, “The Bikini bathing suit is a mistake. Only two women in a million can wear it. And it’s a very big mistake to try.“ As a parallel to the free-flowing jazz age of the 1920s and the flapper fashion of the era, more flesh was revealed as legs were shown to approximately the mid-thigh in the newer style bathing suits. Necklines lowered and arm holes became larger. Still, beachgoers had to contend with the “swimwear police” who measured skirt lengths in the interest of modesty.

The 1930s experienced The Great Depression. In an effort to offer a respite of escapism, Hollywood churned out opulent fantasy films, in which the clinging satin feminine line returned. The two main styles of swimsuits were the Dressmaker, a less fitted top with an A-line skirt, famously worn by Grace Kelly in HIGH SOCIETY (‘56), and the Maillot where the top half was a fitted swimsuit and the bottom half was basically boy shorts, as seen on Claudette Colbert in BLUEBEARD’S EIGHTH WIFE (‘38).

With the 1940s came WWII, The Good Neighbor policy, bolder prints and the birth of the pinup. It brought sweetheart necklines and ruched fabrics that were also reflective in swimwear. The two-piece bathing suit which showed the midriff (bottoms of which always covered the belly button) made its debut in the 1930s but came into prominence in the 1940s. The Andy Hardy series, with its bevy of young starlets, were ideal examples of ‘40s swimwear. Likely, the most famous bathing suit of the decade was undoubtedly Betty Grable’s iconic one-piece pin-up swimsuit. In 1946, French engineer Louis Réard would introduce the bikini. Wracked with scandal, Réard hired Micheline Bernardini, a burlesque performer and the only woman who would agree to model the shocking swimsuit in public.

The early 50s would see a variety of swimsuit styles including the Empire waist, princess and baby-doll swimsuits. The female curve was back with a vengeance as the ideal body style was that of the hourglass-shaped bombshell, reflected in fashion and prominently on screen with a series of the implausibly spectacular bacchanalia of Berkeley’s aqua-musicals (in Technicolor no less), starring Esther Williams. The bikini continued to gain popularity through the 1960s (how could it not)? In America, production companies took full advantage of the pop song “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie” by Brian Hyland, which upon its release in 1960 catapulted the sale of the bathing suit. In response, studios pumped out an onslaught of California teen beach party films. Annette Funicello, became the epitome of the 60s bikini teen idol, starring alongside Frankie Avalon in such films as BEACH BLANKET BINGO (‘65), BEACH PARTY (‘63) and BIKINI BEACH (‘64).

Beginning with Bohemia and ending with disco, the ‘70s saw an array of fashion styles, and the bathing suit was no exception. The Pill came into prominence and along with it, the new wave of soul surrendering euphoric dance music: disco. An authentic representation of ‘70s swimwear appeared in the film JAWS (‘75), as well as a myriad of television shows, including Fantasy Island, starring the sensual and suave classic film actor Ricardo Montalbán. Halters, tie fronts, keyhole cut-outs, backless, and of course Farah Fawcett’s deep v-cut one-piece swimwear style of the 1970s seemed endless. Bright, brighter and the brightest colors dominated the excessive “Me Generation” of the 1980s aesthetic. A mashup of style, it wouldn’t take too much effort for a keen eye to trace each of the prior decade’s influences. Thongs, which were introduced by Brazil during the ‘70s, and high cut, V-hips monopolized the decade, especially reflective in the music videos of the new, iconic cable television station MTV.

During the ‘90s, the high-cut waist and bikinis of the ‘80s remained, and glamorous designer swimsuits graced the runway. Tankinis came back into fashion as a nod to the ‘40s. Still, the red one-piece bathing suit, popularized by Pamela Anderson of the ‘90s television show Baywatch captured the decade. The 2000s (and beyond) brought mix-and-match suits and offered multiple choices of varying options including the Burkini. The rise of positive body image injected a necessary confidence boost to women who did not fit the stereotypical, force-fed, beauty standard.