
This remarkable 13-minute actuality film captures a continuous journey down San Francisco's Market Street, filmed from the perspective of a cable car traveling eastward from 8th Street to the ferry turntable at The Embarcadero. The camera records the bustling street life of early 20th century San Francisco, featuring horse-drawn wagons, automobiles, pedestrians, bicycles, and streetcars all navigating the wide thoroughfare. The film serves as an invaluable time capsule, preserving the architecture, fashions, transportation methods, and daily rhythms of a major American city just days before it would be devastated by the catastrophic 1906 earthquake and fire. The journey concludes at the iconic Ferry Building, which stands as the eastern terminus of Market Street and the gateway to the bay.
The film was created by mounting a Bell & Howell camera on the front of a cable car, with Harry J. Miles manually cranking the camera throughout the entire journey. The Miles brothers had to obtain special permission from the city to block traffic and ensure a clear path for their cable car. The filming took approximately 30 minutes to complete, though the final edited version runs 13 minutes. The camera was positioned at about eye level to capture both the street activity and the surrounding buildings.
The film was produced during the peak of the actuality film era, when short documentaries of real events and locations were extremely popular with audiences. 1906 was a period of rapid technological and social change in America, with automobiles beginning to share roads with horse-drawn vehicles and electric streetcars revolutionizing urban transportation. San Francisco at this time was the largest city on the West Coast, boasting a population of over 400,000 and serving as a major port and financial center. The city was in the midst of a building boom, with many of the structures visible in the film being less than a decade old. This period also saw the rise of the film industry itself, with the Miles brothers among the entrepreneurs establishing production companies outside of the traditional East Coast centers. The film captures a moment of American urban life at the cusp of modernity, just before the city's landscape would be completely transformed by natural disaster.
This film holds immense cultural and historical value as one of the most complete visual records of pre-1906 San Francisco, capturing a city that was almost entirely destroyed just days after filming. It represents a crucial example of early documentary filmmaking and the actuality genre that dominated cinema before the rise of narrative features. The film has become an essential primary source for historians studying urban life, transportation, fashion, and architecture in early 20th century America. Its preservation and restoration have allowed modern audiences to experience a time capsule of everyday life from over a century ago. The film's accidental timing—capturing a city on the eve of disaster—has elevated it from a simple travelogue to a poignant document of loss and memory. It continues to be featured in documentaries about San Francisco history, early cinema, and urban development, serving as a bridge between contemporary viewers and the past.
The Miles brothers—Harry, Herbert, Earle, and Joe—were pioneers of West Coast filmmaking who operated out of San Francisco. For this ambitious project, they faced the technical challenge of mounting a heavy Bell & Howell camera on the front of a moving cable car while ensuring stable footage. Harry J. Miles, the primary cameraman, had to manually crank the camera at a consistent speed throughout the entire journey, a physically demanding task that required considerable stamina. The production required coordination with city authorities to temporarily clear a path through Market Street's notoriously chaotic traffic. The brothers likely filmed multiple takes to ensure they captured the best possible footage, though only one complete version has survived. The timing of the shoot, just days before the earthquake, was purely coincidental but transformed what was intended as a simple travelogue into one of cinema's most important historical documents.
The cinematography represents a remarkable technical achievement for its time, featuring a continuous tracking shot that maintains relatively stable framing despite being shot from a moving vehicle. The camera was mounted on the front of a cable car at approximately eye level, providing an immersive perspective that puts viewers in the position of a passenger. The composition captures both the immediate street activity and the surrounding architecture, with the wide expanse of Market Street allowing for impressive depth of field. The lighting is entirely natural, utilizing early morning or late afternoon sunlight to illuminate the scene. The camera work demonstrates the early use of what would become known as the 'subjective point of view' shot, creating a sense of movement and presence that was innovative for the period. The framing successfully balances the need to show both the immediate foreground action and the broader cityscape, creating a comprehensive view of urban life.
The film represents several important technical innovations in early cinema, particularly in the realm of mobile cinematography. The successful mounting and operation of a hand-cranked camera on a moving cable car demonstrated new possibilities for location shooting and dynamic camera movement. The Miles brothers' ability to maintain consistent exposure and focus throughout the journey was remarkable for the era. The film showcases the capabilities of the Bell & Howell camera, one of the most advanced cameras of its time. The continuous nature of the shot, lasting the full 13 minutes without apparent cuts, was an ambitious undertaking that pushed the boundaries of film length and camera stability. The preservation of the original nitrate print and its successful digital restoration in 2005 also represents significant achievements in film preservation technology, allowing modern viewers to see details that were previously obscured by deterioration.
The original film was silent, as was standard for all motion pictures of 1906. When shown in theaters, it would have been accompanied by live musical performance, typically a pianist or small orchestra playing appropriate mood music. Modern restorations and screenings often feature period-appropriate musical scores, with some versions using ragtime, popular songs from 1906, or classical pieces that would have been familiar to contemporary audiences. The Library of Congress version includes a newly composed score by Stephen Horne that attempts to recreate the musical atmosphere of early 20th century exhibition. Some contemporary screenings have experimented with adding ambient sounds of horses, bells, and street noises to enhance the immersive experience, though purists prefer to maintain the silent authenticity of the original presentation.
One of the most remarkable films ever made, capturing a city that would be erased from existence just days later.
A thirteen-minute time machine that takes us back to a world that no longer exists.
Perhaps the most important documentary film of early American cinema.
Contemporary reviews from 1906 are scarce, as actuality films were typically reviewed as novelty attractions rather than artistic works. Modern critics and film historians have universally praised the film for its historical importance and technical achievement. The Library of Congress selected it for preservation in the National Film Registry in 2010, recognizing it as 'culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.' Critics have noted how the film's simple, unembellished approach creates a powerful sense of immediacy and authenticity. The technical quality of the footage, considering the era and filming conditions, has been praised by cinematography experts. Modern reviews often emphasize the film's emotional impact, particularly when viewers understand that the vibrant city captured would soon be devastated.
In 1906, audiences would have viewed this film as a fascinating glimpse of modern urban life in San Francisco, likely marveling at the busy street scenes and variety of transportation. The film was probably shown as part of vaudeville programs or special exhibitions, where it would have been promoted as an authentic view of the bustling West Coast metropolis. Modern audiences viewing the restored version often express a sense of wonder and nostalgia, with many commenting on the apparent chaos of early 20th century traffic and the vanished architectural landscape. The knowledge that the film was made just before the earthquake adds a layer of poignancy for contemporary viewers, who often describe the experience as haunting or bittersweet. The film has become popular on educational platforms and in museum settings, where it serves as a powerful teaching tool about urban history and the fragility of cities.
The film has been preserved by the Library of Congress and selected for the National Film Registry in 2010. The original nitrate print was discovered in the 1960s and has undergone extensive restoration and digital enhancement. A 4K digital restoration was completed in 2005, significantly improving image quality and revealing details previously obscured by deterioration. The film is considered well-preserved and accessible through various archival and educational channels.