To anyone who finds this. Give these papers to the police immediately! This is for them in hopes of piecing together what is going on. My name is Reel Projection, I’m a total nerd and a member of the Equestrian Society for Film Preservation. I’m an earth pony of 24 years old with glasses; I have a short red mane and a peach coat with green eyes and have a film reel as a cutie mark. If there’s any chance of you finding me, please read this all the way, no matter how trivial my story may sound, I hope that each detail might help.
Now one important fact that I think you should know, is that out of all the silent films that were ever made between the years 894 to 929, around 90 percent of films that were ever made, are now lost. And out of that, as high as 75 percent were destroyed over time. There are several reasons for such a high mortality rate among films from this period. Mostly it’s due to the film itself in it that the cellophane was soaked in nitrate; not only does this disintegrate it due to lack of care, but they tend to self-combust if exposed to heat. So needless to say that there have been plenty of fires over the years in which movies, finished or unfinished, literally went up in smoke.
There were other reasons which you might expect: some of them were so poorly made that they were shelved away somewhere to be left forgotten. Others were put into the wrong film canisters with inaccurate titles. Even many were thrown away because, at the time, ponies didn’t see a need to preserve their movies for future generations. (Along with one… other reason that I, unfortunately, found out… but I’ll get to that later.)
But that’s not to say that there weren’t any good films that were worth preserving. As a film enthusiast myself, my interests lie in this time period of the silent film era. I guess that I always loved silent movies. The level of creativity that these writers, directors, actors, and special effect artists had pulled off despite what they had is something that captivated me. I love the early monster movies with vampires, phantoms, and even a few killers that hunt in the dark. I also love the great fantasies of, “The Saddle Arabian Nights,” “The Last Sea Pony,” and the recently rediscovered sci-fi classic: “Maretropolis.” I guess I fell in love with how they push the boundaries with their experimental ideas at a time when the motion picture itself was so brand new.
Our job at the Equestrian Society for Film Preservation is to search out any and every film that we could find to restore, copy, and preserve for the next generation. It’s something like a glorified library for films. From great epics that were once meant for the big screen, to early family home movies from long ago, we keep our eyes peeled for any films that are lost.
Needless to say, it was the perfect job for me. I loved it in how much passion I have for old, timely movies which lend a window into the past – especially when somepony discovers a silent film, I just sit back and watch something that hasn’t been seen in nearly a century. You see, my job was to watch whatever new films come in to review them, to see if they need any sort of restoration before we copy and catalog them.
“I think we’ve hit the jackpot,” these were the words that the head librarian told me as he walked in with a cardboard box on his back. “We just got a donation in today from an estate sale from Applewood.”
As he set the box down beside my desk, I peeked into the contents of it. There were film canisters that cringingly had rust on them. “Where was all of this stored in?”
“I think it was in an attic. From what our downer told me since they don’t really have the type of projector for any of these reels that they just gave it to us.”
Gingerly I picked one of the small canisters up, “As nice as that is, some of these kinda look corroded. And just from what I can see, most of these look like home movies that have probably been kept in poor condition.”
“But you don’t know that until you take a look at them. So what kind of projector do you want me to bring up?”
“Well let me sort these things out first and then I’ll come to get ya.” After the head librarian went away, I set to work separating the canisters. From that box, I quickly found that each canister had a different thickness, so I paired them up into stacks. Truth be told, I was worried as it was clear that whoever owned these certainly didn’t know how to properly take care of them. Apart from the rust, there was a slimy substance that oozed from the lids and some of them weren’t labeled so I couldn’t tell right away what year they were made.
From that box, there were a lot of small ones, like those that were most likely for personal home movies. But when I got to the bottom of it, my heart raced, for there underneath all those rolls, there was one that was much bigger than the rest. Immediately, I knew what it was! It was a motion picture lid of Pony Artists’ Studios that, to my excitement, had a date of October, 928. A silent film!
Immediately I took it out of the box and put it on my desk to open it. Of course, given that there was rust around it, I had to pry the thing up to get it open. But once I heard it pop, I lifted it over my head to get the biggest surprise that day. The wheel around which the film was wrapped around was red. Now, this gave me pause before I cried out in excitement because I knew what this meant: it was banned.
(For those who don’t know, during the silent film era, that shortly after movies were produced, it would be reviewed by the studios that were made under their roofs to see if it had made it up to their standards. If it passes, they would be put into black wheels to be copied and distributed to movie theaters around the country. However, if that said movie was found to have something that wasn’t acceptable, or if the director had gone too far, it would be put in red wheels to be placed in the vault, never to be shown again. So understandably, finding any of these banned films is extremely rare.)
Of course, I couldn’t wait to see what movie this was. And by the look of the film, it was surprisingly in good condition, so hopefully, there shouldn't be any need for restoration. So after calling upon the head librarian to have somepony bring up two types of projectors, they were brought into my office to be pointed at the blank white wall. Now, normally I would review the smaller rolls first. However, since I haven’t seen any old movies in months, I was itching to see something new. So after getting the reels into the machine, carefully picking up one end of the celluloid to weave around the wheels and hooking onto the other reel. I turned off the lights in my office and flipped the projector on.
The old machine came to life with the familiar rapid clicking sound, and a title card came up on the wall that had only one word:
“Followed.”
In all of my knowledge of movies that had a huge budget behind them, especially when it was made at Pony Artists’ Studios, I have never heard of this movie before. So understandably, I was rather excited that I was going to be the first pony in nearly a hundred years to see this. There was another title card that showed the names of the director, producer, film editor, etc… Interestingly enough, there were only two main actors in this. One was an actress who was playing Ms. Daisy, who was performed by Star Struck – a name that I have never heard of before. And an actor who, interestingly enough, had a question mark that was performed by Cheval de Silhouette that, again, I have never heard of before.
The movie began with an overshot of a busy city street in what looked like Manehattan where the lights were started to be turning on, carriages and taxis running by while ponies go to and fro on the sidewalks. The sky overhead showed that it was getting close to twilight.
“Manehattan,”
read the title card,
“A place famous for being the city that never sleeps. Millions of souls live and die every day in this modern maretropolis.”
To this, it cuts to a sign of a law firm in which it pans downward towards the front entrance where a mare pushes the door to step out. In the black and white film, she was wearing the clothing of the time period, in it that she wore a white hat and overcoat. When she looked up, glancing at both sides of the streets, even her makeup, I noticed, corresponded to the twenties with her dark lipstick, a pale face that had an eyeshadow with mascara, and a wavy mane style that was typical for the time period.
“This is Ms. Daisy.”
A title card read,
“A single, hardworking mare that had completed her work for the day, and is about to make her way back to her apartment.”
I watched as this mare on the wall walked down from the stoop to the pavement, in which the street lamps lit up overhead. Ponies walked past her as she tried to wave for a taxi; however, none of them seemed to notice. She began to move up along the street, with the camera following her as she stopped every so often to try to get any of the cabs’ attention from the traffic. However, from a shot of the street, those taxies seemed full and the drivers weren’t interested in stopping. Understandably, the white mare seemed to be getting increasingly frustrated. Eventually, she went up to a random stallion asking:
“Excuse me; is there a bus stop nearby?”
He pointed a hoof further down the street. The mare simply thanked him and continued down. While the camera followed her, there was something rather… off about the scene. Right behind her on the other side of the frame, there was something dark that synchronized the mare’s steps. Only the face was hidden as the stallion had a dark trench coat and a wide brim hat as black as raven feathers. The collar was high to the point that I couldn’t make out the face that was determined in following this mare.
There was something uneasy about watching this. At the moment, the mare on the wall didn’t realize it; she looked somewhat annoyed, walking towards what I assumed to be the bus stop. However, the stranger right behind her followed her like a shadow in which he wasn’t too far behind among the bustling crowd.
Eventually, she stopped when she reached a packed bench while the figure walked behind, leaning up against a brick wall. Ms. Daisy looked down at her watch before asking a young filly about the bus.
“The next one doesn’t come by for another ten minutes ma’am.”
The title card read, cutting back to the mare sighing in frustration. However, while she was rolling her eyes, she was able to spot the figure that was following her. From there, the camera had her and the stranger in the frame; her expression slowly morphed. Gone from mere annoyance, her face drooped with discomfort, almost as if she knew who this pony was. And whoever it was, her expression told me that it wasn’t good.
At first, Ms. Daisy tried to ignore the shady stallion as her face was towards the street. She anxiously looked this way and that, waiting for any sign of the bus. However, every so often she would glance behind to see that the stranger was still there, unmoved. Then before a title card showed up, she appeared to be talking to herself as she said:
“Maybe it’ll be faster to go by subway.”
And with that, she nervously walked on, a little faster than before, only to see that the stallion was moving again, closely following her trail.
While I watched this, I was trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Obviously, this wasn’t your typical movie, but I didn’t exactly see the reason why that would have been banned. It was a little unsettling, for sure, but at the same time, as I watched the mare go down a flight of stairs towards a subway with the stalker closely behind, there was a sense of increasing dread as I was unsure where this was going.
Now in the subway, Ms. Daisy went into the waiting area where a mob of other ponies was waiting for their little trains to get there. The camera cut to the mare, trying to hide from her pursuer behind a wall of Manehattaners. And yet, the shadowy stallion in the trench coat somehow knew where she was as, judging from the outline of his muzzle, he was looking in her direction. But for the moment, the stranger didn’t dare move any closer.
As for the mare, her hoof tapped impatiently for the train to get there, as her expression was nothing but anxiety. To her relief, the camera showed a ray of light that swept through the crowd before the train came rushing through the frame. And as soon as it stopped and its doors opened, she and the stalker rushed in.
The camera then cut to be on board the stuffed train cars where all the seats were taken and the ponies that came on, including Ms. Daisy, had to stand. Immediately I noticed that for once, the stranger wasn’t in sight, but as the camera crept forward towards the mare, I suddenly realized that this shot was from the pursuer’s point of view. While the camera did at times jolt with the moving train, it was still clear enough to make the increasingly frightened look as she glanced back behind her. So she did what anyone in her situation would have done – and pushed her way up the train to try to get out of his sight. Yet, as she moved from one car to the next, so did the camera that crawled right behind. Suddenly, when the train made a stop, she immediately got off of it, galloping away.
Now, I have seen plenty of films in my time in which there was really good acting in it. But as I watched on, the look on the mare’s face and the body language she used… something told me that she wasn’t acting at all. As if this thing was genuine. She was trying to get away, no doubt about it. But for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. I had a thought that made me think that this was no ordinary movie.
On the wall, the projector showed the mare getting out of the subway, into a rather darker side of town. She was running now, going down pitch-black alleyways while the camera played tricks of light and shadow as she went through porch lights, windows, and open doors that provided the only illumination in this scene. The editing became quicker as it would show flashes of her as she was running for her life between the darkness and the few lights that shine down. But within these same shots, I also saw her stalker chasing after her.
Then Ms. Daisy made a sharp right behind some garbage cans, while in the gray darkness; I saw tears of fright rolling down her cheeks while she stuffed her mouth with her hoof to silence herself. Also in the same frame, the silhouette of her stalker walked underneath a streetlamp which he stopped underneath. In that silence, I was on the edge as the stallion in black looked around this way and that, his ears twisting around to listen. Behind the garbage, the mare was crouching down, her eyes wide and her makeup stained. Then the pursuer turned towards the camera and began to slowly walk forward, casting a long shadow towards the viewer. The mare scooted further into the shadows, trying to stay out of his sight.
I held my breath when he stopped, his face still in inky darkness, and tilted his head to the right and left. The mare appeared to reflect this anxiety that I had, as she tried to figure out what to do. Then, her hoof reached down into the garbage to pick up an open can and, as carefully as she could, threw it off to the other side of the screen to which caught her stalker’s attention. As soon as he went away to investigate, the mare slipped out.
The camera cut to the gaping mouth of a dark alleyway from which the mare emerged from. Rushing out onto the pavement, she was calling out for help to which several Manehattaners took notice. At first, I felt relief as ponies offered to assist the distressed mare. A few of them searched for the stalker, one went out to get a police officer, another flagged down a taxi.
By the time she got into a cab, I sighed in relief. “Well, at least she was able to get out,” I said aloud to myself. However, the film wasn’t done yet. It showed Ms. Daisy being taken back to her apartment complex where a police officer was waiting for her to which she retold the story.
“At least I managed to get away,”
a title card read.
“For a moment there I thought I was done for.”
The officer told her not to worry as he’d track her pursuer down. After thanking him, she made the climb up the stairs to the fifth floor where she stayed. From there, the camera faced the front of her door where a wire basket for milk jugs rested beside it. The mare unlocked her apartment door slightly but stopped for a moment to pick up the basket with her teeth. She kicked the door wider with a hind leg, and my heart stopped for in the darkened room seen by the light of a window, was the shadow of her stalker. She walked back into the apartment and closed the door. Immediately, the final title card read,
“The End,”
before the film ran out.
Now… you might think that I’m writing this story because that little-known movie had left such an impression on me, that it might have been pointless in telling you this. But… it’s not. Granted, I was unnerved after I watched it, even more so when I did my research into finding out who these actors were. Only as I dug into the list of actors from the time period, I couldn’t find any mention of either of them. Not only that, I couldn’t find any mention of the director, producer, writer, or even the film editor. It was as if whoever worked on this didn’t want their names to be attached, or they never existed at all. It was as if this movie shouldn’t exist, and yet, here it is in physical form.
More importantly… I’m writing this down not only to tell you what I saw of the film, “Followed” in print. Rather do so in case… if I go missing. Ever since that day that I saw that movie, I had the feeling that I’m being watched from somewhere. Regardless if it’s just me in my office, or a crowd, I feel like I’m being followed by someone. No matter where I go, even in my own home, I have this growing paranoia like I’m going to be taken at any moment.
Now, you the reader may think that I’m slowly being driven mad. And up until yesterday, I would have agreed with you that I should seek psychiatric care. But the thing is… I saw him. As I was walking home, I saw that same shadow that was in the film. I don’t know how, but I’ve seen him; he had silently followed me back home where I had locked and barred the door and windows. This is why I have bothered to write this nearly seven-page testimony as a precaution. I hope to give the police an idea of what happened to me. But most importantly, to give a warning: The film, “Followed,” was banned for a reason. Viewing it is risky and the full extent of the dangers are unknown. My stalker is waiting for me to come out, to do Celestia knows what.
So… I’m going to take on this experiment: If I open the door for five minutes and nothing happens, then I’ll just take this up and throw it in the trash – where I’ll schedule for a doctor to help me. And if this is still intact… Please… Come and find me.
