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of theatres in towns strung out along a railway line. It would “move down the line” to
each of them in turn. The prints would be delivered a day or so in advance of each
screening, the film trunks being plonked by the train guard on the platform to await
collection by the cinema operator. There was a good deal of informality and trust
involved – as I can recall from my own observation as a child, the trunks (heavy metal
containers holding several reels of nitrate film) might sit on the station platform in the
blazing sun for many hours, till the recipient got round to collecting them.

Enter the “Chinese Gentleman”. He apparently had an arrangement with one – or more
– station clerks in situations where this natural delay could work to his advantage. He
would “borrow” a print for several hours, long enough to run off a dupe negative, and
return it before the recipient came to claim it. The negative could then yield any number
of “pirate” prints whose use – within Australia or beyond – can only be guessed at. One
imagines that Mr Gentleman had his own private printing and processing laboratory –
an entirely practical possibility in the days of black and white film. (I knew collectors who
had their own film printers – the most important item of equipment, since the processing
of film could be readily contracted out.)

Of course, the means by which collectors obtained their prints tended to fall into three
categories. The first was genuine finds in unlikely places, such as old cinema projection
rooms, or second-hand shops. The second was by exchange: swaps and horse-trading
among fellow collectors. The third was “informal” acquisition from a distributor.

Of the latter means, I never met any
collector who admitted to directly
participating in this approach – but
everyone knew that it happened!
Hypothetically, collector Jones would know
dispatch clerk Smith at the Stupendous
Film Company’s exchange. Smith had
been instructed to destroy a quantity of
surplus prints and legally certify that this
has been done. He casually mentioned
this to Jones, who happily was able to
oblige by offering to carry out this task
himself. The following day, Jones arrived
with his car and Smith dumped the prints
in his boot. Smith could now formally write
them off, while Jones – who, it transpired,
was not always well organised – might
sometimes forget to carry out the
destruction. Variations on this theme were
legion, and despite the official stances of
many film companies, there was – at least
some of the time – evident tolerance of the
inevitable. Collectors would take the
private view that, so long as no piracy was Raymond Longford
occurring and the distributor’s income was
not affected, the practice caused no harm and indeed, over time, conferred benefit by
contributing to the survival of films.
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