A Window on the Past: Introducing “The Moving Past” Streaming Website

By David Sobel

For three consecutive nights in November 1921, Her Own Fault, “a realistic drama in which the heroine is a factory girl” was shown at the Madison Theatre (at the corner of Bloor and Bathurst) and the Review Theatre, in the west end of Toronto.[i] Made by the Ontario Motion Picture Bureau at the Gutta Percha Factory in Parkdale, Toronto, the government production was hoping to attract female factory workers to the theatres, not only for entertainment, but for education too.

The movie was responding to concerns about the rapid growth in employment offered to single women in Canada’s cities. Women could get into trouble, make bad choices, and become unproductive employees. Her Own Fault told the tale of ‘Eileen’ a “good” factory girl, and a “bad” factory girl named Mamie. The characters couldn’t have been more different when it came to personal hygiene, clothing styles, diet and leisure time. Central to the story, however, was how they each approached their work making rubber heels at Gutta Percha. Mamie gets “almost nothing done” in the words of her foreman, while Eileen is astoundingly productive. Eileen is soon promoted to forelady and enjoys a blossoming relationship with a male supervisor. Mamie contracts tuberculosis and is bedridden. The moral of the story was clear.

Screenings for films such as Her Own Fault were commonplace in Toronto and elsewhere in early 20th-century Canada. By 1920, Toronto had more than 100 movie theatres offering a wide range of topics in “life-like reality.” The Globe reported that 75,000 people a day saw movies in the city, an astounding figure when one considers that about half a million lived in the city at the time. It was estimated that the daily number of movie goers across Canada was between 650,000 and 750,000. The newspaper went on to celebrate these Canadian-made films and applauded the government’s efforts in using them “in their propaganda campaigns for immigration, agriculture and health instruction and tourist traffic.“ While there were American features being shown in Canadian movie houses, the newspaper was critical of them, suggesting those made in Canada were better for education and citizenship.[ii]

There were already two Government-sponsored motion picture bureaus in Canada by 1918. No other jurisdiction in the world had even one. The Ontario Motion Picture Bureau, which opened in 1917, produced both documentaries and fictional films that were educational, such as Her Own Fault. In addition to this provincially run studio, the Canadian Government Motion Picture Bureau, which opened in 1918, produced pictures that featured the scenery and industry of the country. Its films sought to attract both tourists and immigrant and were distributed around the world, to theatres, conferences and community halls. Over a period of about 20 years the two motion picture bureaus produced thousands of films – no one knows precisely how many, and some have been lost.

Films such as Her Own Fault are the starting point for a recently launched website called The Moving Past. Fifteen films made by the two bureaus between 1918 and 1929 are available as a resource for historians, sociologists, film studies scholars and those who teach history or have an interest in history in general.

Designed primarily for the contemporary classroom, some minor adjustments have been made to the original films. Early films were paced very slowly by today’s standards. For this reason, the lengths of pans and close-ups have been edited slightly. However, no scenes have been removed and the narrative sequence in each film is unchanged. The films were originally silent, though there might have been live musicians providing a soundtrack for some. Title cards communicate the dialogue and ideas that are presented in the films. Silent films can be challenging for today’s viewers, especially for non-specialists with an interest in history. Period music was selected for each film and synchronized with the visuals to create a more watchable experience.

While the Globe noted the films were designed to instruct, a century later it is clear that at least some of these government-sponsored films were closer to propaganda and sought to “indoctrinate” their audiences.[iii] Film was a new medium, and the state was experimenting with communicating on a mass-scale, using a technology that had been a curiosity a decade earlier. Urbanization introduced new ways of living and working that were very different from life on the farm. Going to films was a pastime, but the government wanted them to influence minds too. The Ontario Motion Picture Bureau, in particular, created a distribution and borrowing system for their films to ensure they were widely available. Churches, social clubs, schools and other organizations borrowed thousands of films on a weekly basis.

The Moving Past website creates the opportunity to see what was being seen in the 1920s, with a focus on work and industry. The fifteen films available on the website are from 4 to 15 minutes long and present varying types of storytelling.

In Your Future Car we enter Durant Motors in 1922, and watch a car being built. The vehicle moves slowly on the assembly line and groups of workers – teams – that work together at various points, off the line. Henry Ford’s vision of the efficient assembly line took decades to implement. Workers are exposed to various fumes, paints, and lacquers, without any protective equipment. Towards the end of the 12-minute film, we visit the upholstery department, comprised entirely of women, the only place in the production factory where they seem to be working. The gendered nature of manufacturing is apparent.

The films selected are not limited to manufacturing work. Fruit growing in Ontario’s Niagara region is the subject of Where Nature Smiles, (1921). It features “farmerettes”, young women picking fruit, and suggests they enjoy the fresh air. Selling peaches from roadside stands and large-scale jam making are also shown. We follow a group of loggers down the Mattagami River in northern Ontario in The Drive (1925). We marvel at their dexterity in poling and burling. The film makes light of the enormous appetites these loggers were alleged to have had. The danger and independence that characterized this work, as well as the camaraderie that developed between the crew members, are clear.

Fishing for halibut off the coast of British Columbia is the subject of Fresh from the Deep (1922). Pipe smoking men catch fish on small boats, which then join the “mother ship” once the haul is large enough. The catch is then packed in wooden crates and sent by rail to markets in Central Canada and the United States.

In Life in a Mining Camp (1921), protagonists Smith and Jones, are out of work, laid off from their factory jobs in the winter. The film suggests they try mining, which is depicted as comically easy. Even the living conditions in the mining camp, known to be harsh and difficult at the time, are presented as though the men are living in a country club. Of course, we know this was untrue. Yet the Government of Ontario hoped the film would entice men to the north, where working conditions were abysmal. Mine owners would have approved of the film’s message, as nearly all these productions were consistent with how employers saw the world.

Watching these “industrial documentaries” is like peering into century-old workplaces, just like the experience of those who first watched them. These productions provide insights into technology and work organization from a perspective that paralleled that of the government. The films serve as further evidence to existing scholarship about labour and working conditions from the period. They offer no commentary or critique of what was happening to work, only approval. There is no hint that anyone resisted these developments.

Other films present subtler, but equally ideological messages, focusing on gender roles. In Someone At Home (1925), the dangerous work of laying electrical line is detailed. While the conditions are dangerous, some of the linemen are ‘careless’ and despite the company’s efforts and concerns, injuries and fatalities mount. One unmarried lineman, Jim, is seriously injured after being careless. The film suggests married men are careful because they have their wives to think about. Marriage was perceived as taming masculine recklessness.

Some of the films are travelogues seeking to entice tourists from cities in the U.S. and Canada to newly established resorts in the wild. Attracting the wealthy to holiday in Canada’s wilderness was a goal of both the Ontario and Federal government. Attitudes about Indigenous people are on full display. The Canadian Government Motion Picture Bureau’s A Region of Romance (1927), acknowledges the land was once occupied by native people, but suggests it’s now being put to better use. A “chief” wearing a headdress visits a resort and is greeted warmly, as a “guest”. He’s impressed with what has been done to the area and is invited to play golf. The film reflects the easy dismissal of Indigenous peoples and sovereignty typical of settler society and governments of the time.

The website seeks to highlight this remarkable, yet little known and underutilized historical resource. Many of the films are decaying. In a few decades more they could be lost forever. They’ll be no charge to view the films on the site until the end of 2024. Starting in 2025 a paywall will be installed. The subscription fees will support the cost of operating the site and to finance posting additional films in the coming years. Visit themovingpast.com to learn more.

David Sobel is a retired occasional historian with an interest in labour and culture. He is the co-author, with Susan Meurer, of “Working at Inglis: The Life and Death of a Canadian Factory” (Lorimer, 1994). He served as a policy advisor at the Ministry of Labour and Consumer Protection in the Government of Ontario for the last two decades of his career. 

[i] Toronto Star, November 4, 1921, p.25, advertisement. Both locations continue to operate as movie theatres in 2024.

[ii] “The Moving Picture” Globe, May 7, 1920, p.6

[iii] Ibid.