Something closely resembling the "pit" system was actually in use from the earliest days of stock markets, and the frenzy you are interested in was a product of the limited number of hours available for trading, which (as shown in the film, as I recall) was in turn often a product of the need to devote other portions of the working day to keeping up the complex manual paperwork required to register the deals.

This was true even of the Amsterdam stock exchange, founded in 1610, which was the first of its kind. I covered its early years in brief in my book Tulipomania (1997):

Not too many years before, the traders who now occupied one or other of the 123 offices in the exchange had been forced to transact their business out in the open on Amsterdam’s New Bridge or – if wet – among the pews of St Olaf’s Chapel or the town’s Old Church. As the city boomed in the early years of the seventeenth century, however, and foreign trade poured in, it became clear that the stock exchange needed a permanent and weatherproof home. The beurs, which opened for business in 1610, met that need and, by its sheer physical presence, went some way to assuaging the suspicions of Amsterdam’s more conservative burghers, who felt there was something faintly ungodly about dealing in shares.

Trading on the beurs was strictly regulated, and was permitted only between the hours of noon and two. Each day’s trading had to be packed into those two hours, and the raucous frenzy that erupted within the quadrangle as the big clock in the tower struck for midday was such that anyone strolling past the exchange at noon might be forgiven for concluding that the burghers had a point. Business was conducted at such a pace that brokers who years earlier had sealed each deal with an elaborate ritual of hand-shakes now merely slapped wildly at each other’s hands before rushing on to the next trade.

Hundreds of traders were licensed to deal on the stock exchange – there were perhaps 400 official beurs-brokers in the 1630s, and they were joined on the trading floor by up to 800 unlicensed freelance dealers who specialised in trading small packages of shares at low prices. In one description of the exchange, the contemporary writer Joseph de la Vega observed one such freelance dealer, who ‘chews his nails, pulls his fingers, closes his eyes, takes four paces, and four times talks to himself, raises his hand to his cheek as if he has a tooth-ache, and all this accompanied by a mysterious coughing.’

Sources

Marjorlein ‘t Hart, Joost Jonker & Jan Luiten van Zanden (eds), A Financial History of the Netherlands (1997) pp.53-6; Geoffrey Cotterell, Amsterdam: the Life of a City (1973) pp.85-6; Simon Schama, The Embarrassment of Riches: An Interpretation of Dutch Culture in the Golden Age (1994) pp.348-50; William Brereton, Travels in Holland and the United Provinces etc... 1634-1635 (1844) pp.55-6. For De la Vega on small-time traders, see Schama op.cit. p.349. The descriptions of traders’ behaviour date to somewhat after the mania period – to the 1680s to be exact – and it may not necessarily have been so exaggerated in the 1630s.