faster than the eye"; it is really because the eye is faster than the hand. In other words, our attention outstrips the moving object.
In the movies this law controls our attention to traveling persons, vehicles, and things. If horsemen are represented as riding away they should be photographed with their backs toward us and with the distance between us and them increasing. Then, since our eyes travel beyond the riders, we get a stronger impression that the men are really riding far away. On the other hand, if the horsemen are coming home, the direction of movement should naturally be toward us. This seems clear enough; yet directors frequently prevent us from feeling the dramatic intent and force of travel, by "shooting" the moving subject from various angles in succession. Even Mr. Griffith has been guilty of this sort of carelessness. In "The Idol Dancer," for example, we have a scene (a) in which a party of South Sea island villagers are paddling away in a large canoe; correctly enough they are moving away from the camera. The next scene (b) shows some one raising an alarm in the village by beating a drum, which, as we have been informed, can be heard twenty miles away. It is a call to the canoe party to return. The scene which is then flashed on (c) is a close-up of the canoe coming toward the camera. The men are paddling vigorously. We think, of course, that they have already heard the alarm and are now returning. But no! Presently they stop paddling and listen. They hear the drum. The next picture (d), a "long shot," shows the canoe being maneuvered around, and the succeeding pictures all show the men paddling toward the camera.
