Tag Archives: public domain

Screams in the Vault: Public Domain Horror in the Age of IP

An image of Mickey Mouse holding a match and looking at a ghoulish figure on the wall in 1929's The Haunted House. The right said of the image has text saying "Screams in the Vault: Public Domain Horror in the Age of IP".

As many iconic works have entered into the public domain since 2019, there has been a surge of horror film adaptations. These horror adaptations have received strong critiques for their deviation from or failure to say something unique about their source material. Ultimately, this criticism has spilled over into skepticism about the public domain itself, framing it as a creative dead-end. This critique, however, overlooks the underlying benefit of the public domain: the ability for anyone, not just corporations, to create their own version/adaptation of the same work. Despite consistent criticism surrounding public domain horror adaptations, a further study of these works reveals underlying contemporary industry conditions that lead to their creation, and demonstrates the enduring importance of the public domain in enabling creative freedom beyond pure corporate control.

These adaptations exist within the current characteristics of contemporary filmmaking; a type of filmmaking largely driven by financial risk-aversion that relies on Intellectual Property (IP) adaptations rather than original stories to guarantee audience attendance and big money earnings. Look no further than April 2025’s A Minecraft Movie that relied on the Minecraft IP to pull in over $150 million in a single weekend in the United States and Canada, as well as over $900 million worldwide across its theatrical run. As studios continue to embrace IP and risk-aversion as rules of the game, creators must either find ways to craft original stories within these confines, or find another way to keep the cost down, such as working in a historically proven low-cost genre: Horror.

Horror films are a popular selection for filmmakers as they can be made more economically compared to other genres by utilizing fewer elements such as limited locations, small casts, and visual ambiguity to enact the horror/unease. There is a long lineage of economical horror films that set off careers including John Carpenter’s Halloween, Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead, and Mike Flanagan’s Absentia. Each film was made for less than $500,000, unadjusted for inflation, and launched careers of well known and successful filmmakers. While each film is hugely varied and different from one another, they are all connected by one common element: being original stories. But when IP is heavily guarded and protected by risk-averse studios, it makes sense to turn to the public domain for creative freedom as an independent filmmaker working with budgetary constrictions. 

Though shaped by the same constraints and standards, the resulting films vary wildly. Some horror films adapted from public domain works lean heavily on shock value while others take a more reflexive approach, using the tools of horror to comment on copyright itself. In 2022, Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey utilized the shock elements to draw an audience, while 2025’s Screamboat embedded a metatextual critique of copyright lengths.

An illustration by E. H. Shepard showing Piglet and Pooh walking in the snow.
An iconic illustration by E. H Shepard from the first Pooh book. This iconography has helped to make the Pooh stories recognizable worldwide.

In 2022, shortly after 1926’s Winnie-the-Pooh entered the public domain, filmmaker Rhys Frake-Waterfield, whose earlier indie films received little attention, announced Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey. By adapting the Pooh stories, Frake-Waterfield utilized their near-hundred year history and public recognition to garner immediate attention to his new production, highlighting the benefits that IP provides even in an area of filmmaking that is historically amenable to emerging filmmakers. 

Since its release, critics and viewers alike have highlighted the deviation from the childhood source material through a gory slasher adaptation. These critiques are reasonable and definitely feel notable to viewers as a dead-eyed Pooh Bear and tusk-bearing Piglet eat Eeyore. However jarring the contrast of the adaptation to the source material may be, it does not undercut the value of the public domain. In creating this adaptation, it acts as a celebration of the public domain as a vehicle for filmmakers and other creatives to remix old works for their own creative and commercial benefit and not just the benefit of select corporate IP holders.

The Blood and Honey film is an adaptation that does not utilize the Pooh stories for much more than audience familiarity. It utilizes the public domain works primarily as a shock factor to attract audience attention. Generally it grafts the iconography of these stories onto an indie horror film that would remain fundamentally unchanged if all of the Pooh elements were stripped away. Beneath the surface of this iconography is a standard slasher film playing in the mold of what has come before.

A book cover stating "The House at Pooh Corner" by A. A. Milne with an illustration of Pooh.
The original Pooh stories, like The House at Pooh Corner (1928), can be fully read online.

This adaptation does not diminish the original stories that still exist and are available to everyone. Nor does it create a new monopoly on the stories, as these Pooh stories remain in the public domain. Instead, it highlights the underlying conditions of filmmaking that surround the film during the time in which it was made. By entering the public domain in the 2020s, newly public domain works give rise to modern adaptations that reflect the popular trends of the moment. They fit within the confines of the corporate, risk-averse IP conditions that drive filmmaking. And yes, many are becoming franchises, itself a reflection of the current moment. Frake-Waterfield has expanded upon his original Blood and Honey film with a direct sequel as well as the greater Twisted Childhood Universe, pulling from other public domain works such as the original Bambi and Peter Pan

Similarly to Blood and Honey, the recent Screamboat adaptation of Steamboat Willie by Steven LaMorte is also a grafting of a public domain work onto a more standard narrative. In a 2025 interview with Paul Marsh, LaMorte reveals that he had been working on a Staten Island Ferry horror film since the early 2010s. However, following Steamboat Willie’s passage into the public domain in 2024, LaMorte reworked the film into an adaptation. In contrast to Blood and Honey, Screamboat functions as a metatextual film commenting not only on the original work, but also the nature of the public domain. It is not solely a horror film based on a public domain work, but a horror film about corporate copyright terms and how these long terms may alienate creators from their original works. This perspective becomes especially vivid in the film’s midsection, which recounts the story of Willie’s separation from Walt Disney in a visually striking animated flashback.

Mickey Mouse standing behind a steamboat's wheel and spinning it while whistling.
Original animation from Steamboat Willie (1928) that inspired Screamboat (2025).

Utilizing animation reminiscent of the original Steamboat Willie cartoon, the film recounts an old man’s tale of how Willie was separated from his creator, an animated depiction of Walt Disney. Much like in real life, the film too omits inclusion of Ub Iwerks as a creator of Mickey Mouse, reinforcing how authorship itself can be obscured by copyright mythologies. In the course of the tale, Walt falls overboard leaving Willie behind locked away in the ferry’s underbelly. Upon Willie’s release, after ninety-five years, he goes off on a rampage killing and terrorizing anyone that he comes across. Willie’s violence is framed not just as horror, but as retribution—an eruption of neglected cultural memory finally freed from captivity.

The middle animation segment of Screamboat utilizes the public domain nature of Steamboat Willie by formally adapting something that was previously restricted by copyright. This unique passage during the film’s middle point sticks in the viewer’s mind, elevating the work a step beyond pure shock value. It instead evokes an iconic character to examine the legacy of copyright control. Through Willie’s violent acts, the film suggests that long copyright terms can turn cultural icons into imprisoned relics. Screamboat critiques the copyright maximalism that the Disney company helped enshrine, using one of Disney’s earliest icons. Together, Blood and Honey and Screamboat reflect two poles of public domain horror—one exploitative, the other expressive. But both are artifacts of a specific cultural and creative moment.

A poster for the 1961 film adaptation of West Side Story. It is red and features silhouettes of characters extending their arms and legs in dance.
Pulling from a long public domain tale, West Side Story adapts Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet to 1950s New York City.

Placed in the context of this broader moment in filmmaking, public domain horror is not an aberration but a logical outcome. Despite this, the context that surrounds the films now will not always be in living memory. In many years, when reflecting on this particular filmmaking environment, these horror adaptations might be seen as an odd and quirky moment of filmmaking. In actuality, these films are emblematic of the cultural moment in which they were produced, highlighting an evolving landscape of intellectual property and creative voice. Ultimately, these films probably won’t reach the same cultural impact as adaptations of other public domain works like 1961’s West Side Story (Romeo and Juliet) or 1959’s Ben-Hur (Ben-Hur). Still, they will remain important and interesting cultural artifacts that inform future generations as snapshots and reflections of the conditions in which they were made. Looking back at the past through creative works informs us of the societal and creative mores of that moment, and helps to anchor us in a contextual reference point to our own moment. Maybe these films will be celebrated themselves when they inevitably enter the public domain… in nearly 100 years.

Screams in the Vault: Public Domain Horror in the Age of IP by Sterling Dudley is marked with CC0 1.0

The Public Domain and the Rise of the Hays Code

Films entering the public domain will soon face a significant shift. In 2030, films governed by the Hays Code will start to enter the public domain. The Hays Code was a set of self-imposed industry censorship guidelines enforced from 1934 to 1968 by the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America (MPPDA), under the leadership of Will H. Hays. Designed to regulate morality in Hollywood films, the code dictated strict rules on depictions of crime, sex, and “immoral” behavior, shaping the creative boundaries of American cinema for decades.

In a comment on one of the Internet Archive’s social media posts, Bluesky user josiahwhite suggested an interesting idea: that due to the restrictions of the Hays Code “[t]he public domain will get a lot more boring.” While this idea might at first seem true, upon further examination it actually clouds the clever ways in which filmmakers of the time navigated the restrictive influence of the Hays Code to tell creative and compelling stories.

To illustrate this point, we shall explore three films—It Happened One Night, To Be or Not to Be, and Double Indemnity—each of which engaged with the Hays Code in distinct ways. Through these case studies, we will see that while the Hays Code imposed restrictions, it did not stifle creativity. Instead, filmmakers found ingenious and often subversive ways to work within and around these constraints, producing films that remain influential to this day.

It Happened One Night (1934): A Pre-Code Example

Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert

Being a pre-Code film, one might assume that Frank Capra’s It Happened One Night is hugely risqué, pushing the boundaries of obscenity and serving as a final burst of unfettered creative filmmaking. However, the reality is more complex. While the film includes suggestive moments—such as Claudette Colbert’s character, Ellie, showing some leg to attract passing vehicles, or mentions of gangster violence—it also adheres to many traditional moral expectations of its time. Opposite Colbert’s Ellie is Clark Gable’s character, Peter, a down on his luck newspaper man with a hard edge. Peter first meets Ellie when a man on their bus, Shapely, begins hitting on Ellie. Shapely attempts to endear himself to Ellie as “Fun on the Side Shapely,” flaunting his disregard for marriage vows. This denigration of marriage would not play well in the Hays Code, and the film itself seems to take issue with it as well, as Peter gets Shapely to leave by pretending to be Ellie’s husband. 

When Peter and Ellie are forced to share a cabin for the night, they construct a makeshift barrier—a sheet dubbed the “Walls of Jericho”—to maintain a sense of modesty. While there was no Code explicitly forbidding an unmarried man and woman from sharing a room at the time, the film nonetheless applies its own restrictions, anticipating the kinds of rules the Hays Code would later enforce. A deeper reading of these moral themes appears as the name, “Walls of Jericho,” references the religious story from the Book of Joshua, incorporating Judeo-Christian values that would later be emphasized under the Hays Code. 

The film ultimately concludes with Peter and Ellie getting married, affirming the cultural ideal of heterosexual marriage that the Code would later regulate as a fundamental norm. So what emerges from It Happened One Night is a blend of the unregulated era of Hollywood and the values that would soon be codified under the Hays Code. Despite the interplay of these influences, the film remains a masterwork. It was the first film in Academy Awards history to win all five major categories—Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, and Best Screenplay—an achievement that underscores both its artistic brilliance and its lasting appeal.

To Be or Not to Be (1942): A Satirical Challenge to the Code

Carole Lombard and Jack Benny

By the early 1940s, Hollywood was firmly under the Hays Code’s influence and deeply entrenched in World War II. Ernst Lubitsch’s satirical comedy To Be or Not to Be follows a Polish theater troupe whose production of Hamlet is disrupted by the Nazi invasion of Poland in 1939. At its core, the film actively mocks and ridicules the Nazis in direct contradiction to the Hays Code’s provision against making “willful offense to any nation.” Though, given that the target was the Nazis, it appears this rule was conveniently overlooked. 

One of the most striking aspects of To Be or Not to Be is its subversion of the Hays Code’s depiction of marriage and fidelity. The film centers on Joseph and Maria Tura, a married couple who lead the Polish theater troupe. Maria, played by Carole Lombard, is heavily implied to be unfaithful to Joseph, played by Jack Benny, which the film often underplays for laughs. Her admirer, a young Polish pilot named Stanislav Sobinski, regularly leaves the audience during Joseph’s delivery of Hamlet’s “To Be or Not to Be” monologue to secretly meet with Maria backstage. Joseph is frustrated that his performance is being disregarded, while not at all aware of the deeper intentions behind the disturbance. Sobinski and Maria’s relationship continues to the point of Sobinski suggesting she divorce her husband to marry him, very much in line with the code. He additionally suggests she retire from acting to become a housewife. However, Maria proves reticence to do either, thus subverting the infidelity in one regard, and pushing back on the normative gender roles that the Hays Code sought to uphold. Sobinski’s relationship with Maria is cut short when he is called to war following the Nazi invasion. 

The plot is propelled forward when he returns to Poland and uncovers a Nazi spy masquerading as a Polish professor who plans to root out the Polish resistance. The film plays with its Code subversion through humor, such as a memorable gag in which Joseph returns home to find Sobinski sleeping in his bed, suggesting further infidelity. While nothing improper has actually happened—Sobinski was given refuge after parachuting from his plane into Poland—the physical staging of the scene suggests Maria’s attraction to Sobinski remains unresolved. 

In the film, the Nazis take Maria hostage just as Sobinski returns. Throughout the film, she skillfully leverages their desires for her attractiveness by navigating herself and others out of danger, and taking some Nazis down along the way. Ultimately, Joseph and Sobinski reconcile, but the film’s final scene reinforces Maria’s continued infidelity—just as Joseph delivers his monologue again, another young man rises and exits, mirroring Sobinski’s earlier actions. 

While the film cannot be as explicit about its themes due to the Hays Code, it remains sharp and subversive. The humor is relentless, the jokes land with precision, and the script is exceptionally tight. Despite the Code’s restrictions, To Be or Not to Be stands as one of Hollywood’s most defining satirical films about the Nazis—proof that even under strict censorship, filmmakers found ways to push boundaries and craft enduring works of comedy and social critique.

Double Indemnity (1944): Adaptation Under the Code

Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck

Here we have an interesting example of adaptation and the Hays Code. In 1935, the original story was submitted by author, James M. Cain, to the Hays Code Office for use in a film script. The Office rejected it for “being a blueprint for murder” (Hoopes, 1982, pg. 268, 331). Since printed works were not governed by the standards of the Hays Code, Cain serialized the story in Liberty magazine during 1936. Following its success as a compiled book in 1943, the story eventually underwent adaptation to a motion picture in 1944. 

The best known version of the story, the 1944 film, was directed by Billy Wilder, and worked with a Code slightly less sensitive to crime. Yet it still had to adhere to a more restrictive set of rules for the film. The plot remains quite consistent in overall story beats between the mediums. An insurance salesman, Walter, falls in love with a client, Phyllis, and the two commit insurance fraud and murder, killing Phyllis’ husband. Following the murder, the two fall apart and grow distrustful of each other. Seeking to get revenge for putting him through the ordeal, Walter seeks to kill Phyllis by surprise. The two diverge in this encounter.

In the film version, Walter and Phyllis mortally wound each other in a shootout. Phyllis dies during the shooting, but a mortally injured Walter gets away. He returns to his office, and there he recounts the entirety of the plot into a dictaphone before succumbing to his injuries. 

The film’s ending places much more emphasis on finality for both characters. While the Code had loosened up on crime films by 1944, it still desired to show the consequences of crime. In its initial 1935 rejection of the story, the Office believed it was depicting “an adulterous relationship” where the criminals “get away with the crime” (Hoopes, 1982, pg. 268, 331). By ensuring the film reinforces the Code’s moral stance against adultery and murder, eliminating the ambiguity present in the book’s ending.

Neither Phyllis nor Walter die in the shootout. Instead, Walter recovers, and escapes on a boat to Mexico. While aboard the boat, Walter runs into Phyllis. After briefly reuniting, the two are implied to be contemplating suicide by jumping into the water right as the book ends.

Even with these adaptational changes, the film is highly entertaining, constantly building suspense through the imagery, editing, and narrative twist. In the end, the restrictions of the Hays Code don’t actively harm the tale, but rather creates a different interpretation of the events. 

Conclusion

In looking at It Happened One Night, To Be or Not to Be, and Double Indemnity, we can see how the Hays Code shaped Hollywood, and had creative filmmakers navigate its restrictions in ways that often led to ingenious results. The argument that public domain works will become less exciting as we enter the Hays Code era is not hard to envision, but it overlooks the reality that creative expression persisted and thrived under constraint. Just as filmmakers worked within the boundaries of the Code to create powerful, lasting stories, we should approach the films entering the public domain each year with curiosity, nuance, and appreciation for their historical contexts. As we anticipate Hays Code-era films entering the public domain in 2030, we should also celebrate the wide array of pre-Code films still making their way into the public domain—such as Frankenstein, All Quiet on the Western Front, King Kong, numerous Marx Brothers films, and many more inventive short cartoons. The public domain continues to expand, and with it, our opportunity to rediscover and reinterpret the works of the past.

This post is published under a CC0 Waiver dedicating it to the public domain.

Public Domain Spotlight: Rhapsody in Blue

Rhapsody in Blue stands as an iconic piece of American music with riveting orchestration, and a cultural footprint that reflects the modernity of the early 20th century. Beyond its artistic merits, the composition has provided numerous cultural touchstones, including its usage as the theme for United Airlines commercials, score backing for films such as “Fantasia 2000,” and countless memorable recorded performances, including a personal favorite by Leonard Bernstein. Among these recordings is a significant one performed by George Gershwin himself at the piano, with accompaniment by the Paul Whiteman Orchestra.

Recorded on June 10, 1924, and released that October, this version is not just historic for its timing, produced shortly after the piece’s premiere in February of the same year, but also for its details. While today’s audiences might not find it unusual, the phenomenon of a composer or musical artist performing their own work is rare in the history of human experience. Until the late 19th Century, the only way to experience music was in a live setting. By 1924, it had become more and more commonplace to experience music through commercially available recordings. When listening to the 1924 recording by Gershwin, listeners today have a direct auditory link to the piece’s 1924 inception. This is in stark contrast to classical pieces by composers like Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach, who never had the opportunity to record their works. Our understanding of these compositions is shaped by interpretations that are decades or centuries removed from their original creation. Yet, Gershwin’s personal interpretation of his composition offers a unique connection to the moment of its creation, allowing us to hear the piano played with the intensity Gershwin intended. It invokes a feeling of closeness to a time long removed from the current moment.

The accessibility of Gershwin’s 1924 recording is enhanced by its passage into the public domain. Such accessibility enriches our cultural heritage and allows for a deeper understanding of the moment in which it was produced. It is not some far-off German or French musical masterpiece, but a living document in which we can hear the direct influence of the composer. This direct access to Gershwin’s performance is an invaluable resource, providing a rare auditory bridge to the past. So, the next time you listen to “Rhapsody in Blue,” consider choosing the 1924 version performed by Gershwin. Imagine the uniqueness of that experience and the profound connection to history it offers, replicating the original sound and transporting us to the moment of a bygone era.

Published with a CC0 Waiver.

A Red-Carpet Affair: Celebrating Public Domain Day 2025 in 1929 Hollywood Style

Lights, camera, preservation! On a star-studded evening at the Internet Archive, we rolled out the red carpet to honor the creative works from 1929 and the sound recordings from 1924 that entered the public domain in 2025. And what better way to celebrate than with a glamorous, Oscar-inspired soirée?

Guests arrived in true 1920s fashion, riding in a vintage convertible before stepping onto the red carpet, where they were met by the spirited Raining Chainsaws street theater troupe, who transformed into a fleet of eager, old-time paparazzi—flashing cameras, barking questions, and adding a touch of whimsy and Hollywood magic to the night.

📸 Check out photos from the red carpet!

Inside the Internet Archive, attendees sipped on French 75s and Old-Fashioneds, classic cocktails that transported us back to the final, glittering moments of the Roaring Twenties. The theme of the night? 1929—the year of the very first Academy Awards—and we honored this cinematic milestone with an evening of film, history, and remixing of the past.

🎞 Lecture by George Evelyn on Disney’s The Skeleton Dance
Animation historian George Evelyn enlightened the audience with a viewing of The Skeleton Dance, the first of Disney’s Silly Symphonies. With its pioneering use of synchronized sound and animation, the 1929 short was a perfect reminder of how creativity from the past continues to shape the present.

🎬 Public Domain Film Remix Contest Screening
What happens when today’s creators remix yesterday’s masterpieces? Our Public Domain Film Remix Contest showcased the most inventive reinterpretations of public domain classics, where old Hollywood met modern storytelling in unexpected and thrilling ways. View all the winners, honorable mentions and submissions from this year’s contest.

👀 Watch the livestream of the night’s festivities

As the evening came to a close, guests toasted to the future of open culture, celebrating the power of preservation, creativity, and the public domain. Thank you to everyone who joined us for this dazzling night of history, cinema, and community!

Announcing the 2025 Public Domain Day Film Remix Contest Winners & Honorable Mentions

We’re thrilled to unveil the creativity of our top three winners and three honorable mentions in this year’s Public Domain Day Film Remix Contest. These remarkable films not only reimagined and transformed public domain works but also demonstrated the boundless potential of remixing creative works to create something new.

Watch the winning entries & honorable mentions below. Renowned film archivist Rick Prelinger returned to lead the jury, comprised of film professionals and enthusiasts including Simone Elias, Lara Gabrielle, BZ Petroff, and Theo Unkrich, offering insightful commentary on each selection and its standout qualities.

Explore all 140+ submissions at the 2025 Public Domain Day Film Remix Contest collection at the Internet Archive.


First Place: “When I Leave the World Behind” by Queline Meadows

https://archive.org/details/when_i_leave_the_world_behind_remix

From Rick: The jury was deeply impressed by Queline Meadows’s inspired mix of movies, images, music and text woven into a subtle and emotionally affecting video expressing a strong sense of nostalgia and the irretrievable passage of time.


Second Place: “The Archive Boogie” by Samantha Close

https://archive.org/details/the-archive-boogie

1929 was a great year for the movies! Filmmaker Samantha Close expresses both the breadth of 1929’s production and the eternal bounty of the public domain, using images from 1929’s films and public domain images from elsewhere and elsewhen.

Learn more about Close & the film in this interview.


Third Place: “THE SITUATIONSHIP” by Samara Meyer

https://archive.org/details/the-situationship

Meyer’s crowdpleasing film features the daring, dazzling “It Girl,” Clara Bow, who lights up the screen in more ways than one in this Sapphic love story.


Honorable Mention – History: “Moving Pictures Aren’t What They Used to Be” by Jeremy Floyd

https://archive.org/details/moving-pictures-arent-what-they-used-to-be

Jeremy Floyd’s enjoyable piece pays tribute to an uninhibited period of filmmaking — Hollywood before the passage of the restrictive Production Code, when movies were filled with roguish suggestion and undisguised violence.


Honorable Mention – Home Movies: “Hoffman’s Honeymoon” by William Webb

https://archive.org/details/hoffmanns-honeymoon-1

Of all film genres, home movies are the most numerous yet the least seen and known. Webb’s engaging video brings them into the foreground, adding voices from dramatic films in the public domain, to build a goofy but endearing narrative.


Honorable Mention – Live Action: “The Wayback Machine” by DIEGO DIAZ & CAN SARK

https://archive.org/details/wayback-machine-4k

Diaz and Sark’s film is an audacious and yes, dopey exploration of the essential greatness of Internet Archive and the dread near-infinity of copyright.

Virtual Public Domain Day Celebrates 1929 Creative Works & 1924 Sound Recordings

On January 22, hundreds of people from all over the world gathered together for Singin’ in the Public Domain, a virtual celebration of the works that moved into the public domain in 2025. The event was co-hosted by Internet Archive and Library Futures.

Watch:

Speakers include (in order of appearance):

  • Natalia Paruz (The Saw Lady), musician
  • Lila Bailey, Internet Archive
  • Jennie Rose Halperin, Internet Archive
  • Sean Dudley, Internet Archive
  • Jennifer Jenkins, Center for the Study of the Public Domain
  • Vivian Li, Innovator in Residence, Library of Congress
  • Tim Findlen (Roochie Toochie and the Ragtime Shepherd Kings), musician
  • Kathleen DeLaurenti, Peabody Institute of the Johns Hopkins University’s Arthur Friedheim Music Library
  • Colin Hancock (The Joymakers), musician
  • Ayun Halliday, Necromancers of the Public Domain
  • Simon Close, WYNC & Public Song Project
  • Dorothy Berry, Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture
  • Theo Unkrich, Internet Archive

Public Domain Spotlight: Singin’ in the Rain

One of the most enduring pieces of music from the 1920s has just now entered the public domain (Duke Law). Watch as Internet Archive’s Sean Dudley, a researcher specializing in the public domain, highlights the song’s iconic origins. Access the original sheet music from 1929 on Archive!

Transcript

Hi, my name is Sean.

I’m a researcher at the Internet Archive.

One of my favorite pieces of music is Singin’ in the Rain.

Of course, I know it best from the 1952 film, but it’s actually from a 1929 film that just entered public domain called The Hollywood Review.

The songs featured a couple of times, being sung by Cliff Edwards, who would later go on to be Jiminy Cricket, and then later on by this giant chorus of stars who are from the silent era and the early talky era, all singing in raincoats in two-strip Technicolor, so some really early color in film.

Now when we think about Singing of the Rain, we think about how many half-lives it’s already had under copyright.

The 1952 film, it’s reuse later on in A Clockwork Orange, and so many countless other moments.

So now that it’s in the public domain and it belongs to all of us, we can remix Singing in the Rain however we want.

So we’ll be “Singin’ in the Rain!”

See ya.

WEDNESDAY: Celebrate Public Domain Day 2025 at the Internet Archive

Lights, camera, action! It’s time to roll out the red carpet and celebrate Public Domain Day, Oscar-style!

On Wednesday, we’re honoring all the legendary works that have entered the public domain in 2025. And what better way to do it than with a glamorous, Hollywood-inspired twist?

A recording of the live event can be viewed here:
https://archive.org/details/public-domain-day-2025-in-person-event-at-internet-archive-headquarters

Public Domain Day Celebration at the Internet Archive
⏰ 6pm – 10pm
📍 Internet Archive, 300 Funston Avenue, San Francisco
🎟️ $15 – REGISTER NOW. No one will be turned away for lack of funds.

This year, we’re honoring 1929 — the year of the very first Academy Awards, held at the historic Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood, CA. So put on your finest attire and get ready for an Oscar Award winning evening.

Sip on a classic French 75 or an Old-Fashioned as we savor the final moments of the Roaring Twenties.

Lecture by George Evelyn on Disney’s Silly Symphonies – “The Skeleton Dance”
Join us for an insightful lecture by Animation Director George Evelyn as he explores Disney’s groundbreaking 1929 short, The Skeleton Dance, the first installment of the iconic Silly Symphonies series. Discover how this eerie, yet charming animation set the stage for the whimsical, music-driven cartoons we know and love today!

Screening of Our Film Mash-Up Winners
Stick around for the Film Mash-Up competition winners, showcasing creative, mind-blowing reinterpretations of classic public domain works. From quirky edits to unique remixes, you won’t want to miss these inventive new takes on timeless films!

Don’t miss this dazzling night of history, cinema, and celebration!

If you’re unable to attend in person, we will also be hosting a virtual celebration on January 22nd at 10am PT.

Public Domain Day Celebration at the Internet Archive
⏰ 6pm – 10pm
📍 Internet Archive, 300 Funston Avenue, San Francisco
🎟️ $15 – REGISTER NOW. No one will be turned away for lack of funds.

Public Domain Spotlight: Popeye

Over the last few years we have seen many new characters enter the public domain including Winnie-the-Pooh in 2022, Mickey Mouse in 2024, and now, Popeye in 2025! The character emerged from a comic strip called Thimble Theater, which was started in 1919 and originally centered around the characters Ham Gravy and Olive Oyl. Popeye made his first appearance in the series as a minor player in early 1929, and as his popularity grew, he later became the central focus of the comic.

Let’s take a look at who Popeye was as a character in 1929:

January 17, 1929

In his very first appearance, Popeye shows off his thorny side by retorting Castor Oyl’s question with a sly remark about being a cowboy. The strip also shows him in a traditional all white sailor get-up that does not reflect his later appearance.


February 14, 1929

Popeye wears a black shirt for the first time, which is more in line with his iconic appearance.


February 18, 1929

Popeye throws his first ever punch. This time against Ham Gravy, one of the main characters of the strip at this point. The title, “That Sailor’s No Gentleman”, is indicative of Popeye’s rough and tough demeanor that would come to define the character.


June 11, 1929

After being shot repeatedly nearly a month earlier, in May 1929, Popeye reemerges full of bullet holes to knock down a foe. His displays of super strength do not originate from spinach, but possibly from rubbing the head of the Whiffle Hen (as seen on May 16, 1929).


June 15, 1929

Olive Oyl displays her first inclinations of romantic interest toward Popeye stating she would like to give him a kiss. The two do not become romantically involved in 1929, but the seeds were planted early.


June 27, 1929

This strip sees Popeye leave until August. However, his departure is not even the main appeal of the strip as it instead focuses on Olive Oyl’s purchase of new clothing. This focus and Popeye’s long absence, he is gone for all of July, thus implies that he was not meant to be a long lasting character, but only around temporarily.


August 5, 1929

Following over a month-long absence, Popeye returns to help Castor Oyl determine if Olive’s new boyfriend is only there for her money. His return indicates his overwhelming popularity with the public that was soon to transpire into his status as unchallenged main character of the strip. The title of this strip too foreshadows this shift being titled: Popeye’s The Man.


August 27, 1929

Olive Oyl displays her first show of affection to Popeye with a kiss. Though this was a mistake as she believed Popeye to be someone else. Despite this, it is yet another early indicator of their soon to be romance.


October 12, 1929

Popeye and Castor Oyl set off to locate Castor’s newly purchased brass mine. Their duo pairing indicates Popeye’s increased status and stature within the strip as Castor was the undeniable main character of the strip up to this point. Popeye’s appearance here again followed a brief absence from the strip dating back to September 30, 1929.


October 22, 1929

Popeye and Castor discover that where the brass mine ought to be is instead a farmer. Popeye implores Castor to allow the farmer to stay on the land, thus showing off his tender heart. Notably this strip takes place just two days before Black Thursday, the start of the Wall Street crash of 1929.


November 4, 1929

This strip shows off a bit more of Popeye’s peculiar dialect and his penchant for curving authority. In the strip he asserts that he is only going to jail because Castor has implored him to.

The title of the panel, “That Jailer’s No Postage Stamp”, also appears to be a humorous play on odd dialects installing postage stamp in lieu of “sap”. In 1920s slang, sap referred to a foolish or gullible person. The title’s swapping of the two terms is reflective of Popeye’s own tendency to swap out words with similar meaning as a postage stamp and sap are both sticky.


November 7, 1929

Another display of Popeye’s superhuman strength as he rips the bars off the jail cell.


Throughout 1929, Popeye not only showcased his superhuman strength and distinctive wardrobe but also his unique dialect and a characteristic phrase, “blow me down.” These foundational elements of his character, present from his very inception, have now entered the public domain. As we continue to engage with and reinterpret Popeye in modern contexts, there are some complexities. 

Jennifer Jenkins, director of Duke Law’s Center for the Study of the Public Domain, explains the following in regards to character copyrights in a post from 2025:

“First, under US copyright law, anyone is free to use characters as they appeared in public domain works. If those characters recur in later works that are still under copyright, the rights only extend to the newly added material in those works, not the underlying material from the public domain works—that content remains freely available.

Second, with newer versions of characters, copyright only extends to their features that qualify for protection. It is not enough for the new material to be different. The features must be “original, creative expression,” meaning that they were independently created (as opposed to copied from somewhere else) and possess at least a modicum of creativity. Mere “ideas” such as generic character traits are not copyrightable. Nor are “merely trivial” or “minuscule” variations added to the original characters. In addition, using commonplace elements that have become standard or indispensable (copyright law calls these “scènes à faire”) is not infringement.”

Jenkins, Jennifer, and James Boyle. “Public Domain Day 2025.” Duke University School of Law, December 2024. https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2025/.


As beloved characters enter the public domain, modern creators can give them a new gloss, recontextualizing them for a new audience. One memorable example is a 2023 horror movie starring a much darker vision of Winnie the Pooh: “Blood and Honey.” We look forward to seeing what modern reinterpretations of Popeye arise, now that his fundamental character traits belong to everyone as part of the public domain.

Public Domain Spotlight: The Skeleton Dance

Disney’s classic animated short, “The Skeleton Dance,” is now in the public domain (Duke Law). Why is that such a big deal? Watch as Internet Archive’s Sean Dudley, a researcher specializing in the public domain, takes viewers on a tour of what makes “The Skeleton Dance” special, and why the film being open to remix and reuse is important for creators.

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Transcript

Hi, my name is Sean, and I’m a researcher with the Internet Archive. One of the most iconic pieces to become public domain this year was 1929’s “The Skeleton Dance.”

This Disney short is revolutionary. 

Its synchronization of music and animation still holds up. Primarily animated by Ub Iwerks, the short feature skeletons turning into Lovecraftian monsters and getting down to some really cool beats.

This was in no small part thanks to Carl Stalling, who would later become famous for doing a lot of Looney Tunes music. And really being accented by the “Mickey Mouseing” effect of timing the animation to the music.

The beauty of this short is that it’s already building on the public domain with the music that it’s utilizing and taking inspiration from previous artists like Thomas Rowlandson for the skeleton designs.

And now because it’s public domain, you are able to remix, reuse, or do whatever you want with it. Because it’s ours. It belongs to all of us.