Blog

It never ceases to amaze me how seriously cool consumer technology was in the 20th century.

Take for example this handheld movie camera. It has sat in my garage for the past several years and resided in my parent’s home for far longer than that. Decades after my dad first bought it, I took it out of its case and discovered how glorious this piece of vintage stuff was.

This is an 8mm movie camera. The very one used to document exciting events in our family like Christmas in the early 60s. Matted black, accented with sparkling silver, the camera has a streamlined shape despite the rotating turret up front that supports a variety of lenses.

I suppose it was the pinnacle of portable movie making in its day, but hitting the scales at nearly five pounds, it isn’t exactly light to carry around, at least to me. Peering through the viewfinder was a challenge. I don’t have to squint anymore when I compose a photograph by looking at the screen of my phone.

Spinning the lenses around was fun. There was one labeled standard, one for wide angle shooters, a telephoto lens and one called a projection lens. The first three were obvious, but what was the projection lens for?

I had no idea, at first.

I must confess I’ve never really understood the mechanics of film photography. F-stops, ASA etc. is almost mumbo-jumbo to me. Still this camera, while hardly point and shoot, tried to help by providing a handy chart on its side.

The colors corresponded with matching colored dots on the actual lens, making it easy to pick the right setting depending on the light conditions.

Pretty automatic for the 60s and so simple that even I could do it, if I could lay my hands on some film and have it developed. That’s actually still possible thanks to the Film Photography Project. They have dedicated themselves to keeping the history of home movies alive, and provide both film and processing if you want to indulge in the process.

Projecting said film is another matter but for me it turned out to not be a problem. For it was right about then that I realized that the high quality leather case my dad had bought was twice as big as the camera was. I looked closer and discovered that the carryall had two levels, not one. The camera fit nicely in the upper layer, so what would I find down below?

I took off the strap and lifted the lid to reveal…

Well, I don’t know exactly what it revealed. Nestled in the red velvet was a rectangular shaped object designed with the same matte black and shining silver of the camera. What in the world could this be? It had an interesting switch on one side that toggled between “Rewind” to “Off” to “Project.” A shiny silver knob stuck out of the other side and a couple of more silver gizmos poked out of the top. A grid of fifteen squares were cut into the plastic at one end of the device. I couldn’t imagine what they were for, or the whole thing for that matter.

One more silver dial stuck out of the front of the unit, right below a plaque with its name. A name that turned out to be the key to the whole mystery.

For this is a Wittnauer Cine-Twin, the “World’s First Movie Camera and Projector Combination,” at least according to the front page of the operating instructions.

Fortunately my Dad was extremely organized and I found the manual tucked in with the camera. I dove into the operating instructions and discovered that my Cine-Twin was a fantastic multitasker. Apparently you could not only shoot film with the camera, once that film was developed and back from the lab, you could plug the camera into the rectangular unit and turn the whole shebang into a projector,

Amazing.

Here’s how it was supposed to work. The camera used a type of film called “double 8” which is fascinating in itself. According to the Film Photography Project, in the early days of the 20th century, 16mm was the standard for home movies. However, equipment and film of that size was expensive and difficult to use. In 1932 Kodak invented smaller cameras, but decided against reinventing the wheel when it came to film to go inside them. Film stock and labs were already set up to handle the 16mm size and trimming down the film for home use would be expensive. So they settled on a unique way to handle the problem.

Put more sprocket holes on both sides of the film and run it though the camera twice!

Huh?

As crazy as it sounds it was true.

The film came in a 25 foot reel. When you pressed the button to start shooting, only one half of the film inside was exposed to record your images. The other side was left blank. When you ran through your 25 feet, you took the reel out, flipped it around and reloaded it back into the camera to shoot another 25 feet. You ended up having two sets of moves on the same strip of film! When it got to the lab they developed the whole thing, then split the film right down the middle. Once it was cut, they spliced the ends together and suddenly you had a fifty foot reel of film to project.

All silent of course. This camera had no way to record sound. Such ability would only come much later. Still, we didn’t miss the audio. It was impressive enough to see our own movies at home. Movies that could be projected from the very camera they were shot with.

According to the manual, the strange, rectangular gizmo that I couldn’t identify was actually the base of the projector. Once you plug the camera body into that base you’re supposed to open a door on the side of the camera. There you would find two arms nestled inside. Swing them upward until they click and voila, they are ready to hold the film reels.

If you recall when I was looking at the set of four lenses at the front of the camera I couldn’t figure out what the one labeled “Projection” was supposed to be used for. Well now I know. That’s the lens you “project” the movie through.

Amazing!

The next step is to “simply” wind your movie through a maze of sprocket wheels and film gates until it reaches the take up reel. Kind of like navigating a twisty mountain road in the dark with a paper map and a flashlight. Once you survive the hazardous journey intact, you’re ready to project your “double 8” masterpiece onto your pull down screen, or any handy blank wall.

I was dying to try it out but I ran into a snag. The button to open the side of my sixty year old camera is jammed and the door is staying firmly shut! Until I can free it I will just have to imagine how it must have worked. Regardless, the fact that some clever engineer in the late 1950s was able to create such an interesting unit is fascinating.

A camera and projector in one! Who ever dreamed that such a cool device even existed, but it does and my Cine-Twin is proof!

Another example of Glorious Vintage Stuff!