American cinematographer (Jan-Dec 1952)

DOPING OUT camera angles in advance can contribute greatly in cutting production costs, and this step is essentially one lhat precedes writing of the "Final" script. Here, director Alfred Hitchcock (right background) huddles with script writer, production office represenfative, cameraman, and actor Jimmy Stewart in plotting the production of one of his hit films. Script Problems In Film Making Some of the obstacles commonly encountered by major producers before the cameras start rolling on a feature film production. By RICHARD GOLDSTONE the ARTICLE lhat begins on this page is the second in a series written by mem¬ bers of the Screen Producers’ Guild in Hollywood, and dealing with the pro¬ ducer’s view of film making. While the editorial content of American Cinema¬ tographer customarily is devoted to the photography of motion pictures, there is increasing evidence that more and more of our readers are vitally inter¬ ested also in topics dealing with other phases of film production. For them we hope this series will prove of substantial value. The articles bring to the film maker not only the viewpoints of the producers but reveal a great deal of the pre-production plan¬ ning and activity that precedes actual photography of a picture; and while all th is is related to the production of pro¬ fessional films, what Hollywood pro¬ ducers have to tell about their side of the business should prove highly educa¬ tional for the cinematographer — ama¬ teur as well as professional. The author, Richard Goldstone, came into the motion picture industry origin¬ ally as a writer, and then started pro¬ ducing short subjects. After a remark¬ able record in that field, he became general manager of the shorts depart¬ ment at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer — even¬ tually going into feature length produc¬ tions at the same studio where he is now producing. He produced, among many others, The Set-Up and the familiar Red Skelton Comedy The Yelloiv Cab Man. EDITOR The gods have nodded from Olym¬ pus. The sun is shining in the heavens. There is a hush of expectancy upon the land. From the mimeographing department, enter the messengers, bearing scripts — stacks of them — immaculate, crisplytyped pages — new yellow covers bearing the magic word FINAL stamped in bold red letters in the lower left-hand corner. You have been told by the front office that the starting date for your picture is 8 weeks from now — 10 weeks if the picture your leading lady is currently working in needs any retakes. Your wife suggests that maybe this is the time to go to Palm Springs or Mexico City, or just lie around for a couple of weeks soaking up sun in the patio. Patiently you explain to her that there’s still a lot of work to do on the script and she gazes back at you with understandable perplexity and says, “But it says ‘final’ on the cover.’’ Final? Yes— in the sense that the vice-president in charge of production has judged its merits and agreed that as a vehicle it’s a legitimate risk of a million dollars of the company’s money. It’s final as a general order committing an army corps to battle is final. The battle has yet to be fought. So, you make your opening gambit — a preliminary patrol into the no-man’sland of available directors. Smith, Jones and Brown are under contract to the studio and available. Smith, in your private opinion, couldn’t direct traffic Sunday morning on a deserted sidestreet. Jones, through a niece of his who happens to work in the Script Depart¬ ment. has already read your script and he’s made it known around the lot that he wouldn't touch it with a t^n-foot pole. Brown — well, maybe. He’s an old hand at the game with a lot of pictures under bis belt — 143 to be exact, since he started back at the old Sennett Studios in 1912. Sure, he can direct your pic¬ ture and probably do it efficiently. But you’re not just looking for efficiency in a director. You want enthusiasm and inspiration, too. And you wonder if a man can really feel enthused and in¬ spired about his 144th picture. Maybe you’re being unfair to Brown, but you can't help feeling that on this particular script you'd rather have an eager-beaver. An up and coming new fellow like Bobby Robinson over at 20th Century Fox whose direction shows style and vigor and energy and — sock. Pa¬ renthetically, the ignoble thought crosses your mind that because of his youth he hasn't yet been able to push his salary up to a stratospheric level which will (Continued on Page 40) January, 1952 American Cinematographer 21