the abbreviated reign of “neon” leon spinks

OOPS 96
The sense of smell, in partic u lar, has tempted filmmakers for a
long time, and with good reason. The olfactory neurons in the nasal cav-
ity, which detect chemical components of aromas, and the brain’s olfac-
tory bulb—a clump of cells that somehow identifies nerve impulses as
being caused by jasmine rather than rose petals—are capable of sensing
and distinguishing about ten thousand different scents. Research has
shown that scents are capable of stimulating physiological responses before
people even realize what they’re smelling, and as a result they often
have powerful, primitive emotional associations. It was no accident that
ancient Greek festivals such as the Eleusinian mysteries were replete with
potent smells, such as burning incense and flowers. In the 19th century,
stage dramatists sometimes used aromas as special effects in plays. They
scattered pine needles to suggest the odor of a forest, or cooked food in the
theater to simulate the aroma of a restaurant onstage.
The use of smells in the movie industry, in fact, actually preceded
the introduction of sound. In 1916, proprietors of the Family Theater in
Forest City, Pennsylvania, dipped cotton wool in rose oil and put it in
front of an electric fan during a newsreel about the Rose Bowl game. Similarly,
in 1929, a Boston theater put lilac oil in the ventilating system to get
audiences in the mood for Lilac Time, a love story about a British aviator
and a French woman during World War I. That same year, when The
Broadway Melody, one of the first Hollywood musicals, premiered in New
York, perfume was sprayed from the ceiling.
In the early 1940s, Hollywood experimented with using compressed
air to force various artificial scents through air-conditioning systems.
In 1943, a theater in Detroit showed The Sea Hawk, a pirate
swashbuckler starring Errol Flynn, with aromas such as the smell of tar
from a sailing ship to add ambience. Also on the bill was Boom Town, a
drama in which each character was given a distinctive scent—tobacco for
Clark Gable, a pine scent for Spencer Tracy, and “My Sin” perfume for
sexy actress Hedy Lamarr.
There were two obvious shortcomings to early attempts at olfac-