Relishing this movie once again, amused by certain "Monday-Morning" condescending reviews, I'm reminded how personal a movie experience can be. Never mind the Nip/Tuck "dinosaurs," I relive again that year I turned 13, riding the bus in the rain to the other end of town! By myself! Standing in line at the single (now there's history) ticket booth , the fresh popcorn, the Milk Duds, the black cherry soda dispensed from that Rube Goldberg-like machine -- first cup, then ice, then syrup, then carbonated water (hopefully, in that order!!) Forget your sophisticated comparisons with current CGI tech. Movies like this summon one's lost youth and, therefore, are priceless.
As for the 1925 version, with a bit of perspective brought on with age it provides its own fascination. The "outtakes," consisting of unused stop-motion scenes, provide a very pleasant surprise. At 6:23 into this section, a single frame of O'Brien himself, caught posing one of the figures, stands frozen like a museum display, dedicated to the long-gone notion that, if you want to film it, you have to build it first.
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