Broadway and Hollywood "Movies" (Jan - Aug 1934)

“MOVIES” 15 This Business of DIRECTING By Norman McLeod, Paramount Director SECONDARY in importance to the stars of a motion picture, ranks the director. Why? When John and Jane Public go to the theater to see the screening of a production, they usually pick the one that shows their favorite stars. At least this is the opinion of producers when planning to produce a picture. Apparently their theory is right, if box-office returns are considered a criterion. The electric lights on the marquee board, the 24-sheet stands and the newspaper and radio advertising space all shriek the name, or names, of the stars. If one looks closely enough, the name of the director may be located — way down in one corner in small type. When the picture is unreeled, it will be found again but in no case so prominently displayed as that of the star’s. On the other hand, the director is boss of his unit during the filming of a story. His word is the last word. The stars look to him for an interpretation of the scenes to be portrayed. The writers consult him on any changes in the dialogue or continuity. Yet, more than seventy-five per cent of motion picture patrons never know who was behind the camera when the picture was screened. “Why?” we ask again. The director is supplied with a story, an adaptation, — or continuity. He has a cameraman to “shoot” the scenes and electricians to “light” his sets. He has players of experience to enact and interpret the scenes of his story. Why, then, couldn’t any person with ordinary sense direct? Why not give the office boy the script and tell him to follow the continuity, thereby saving the salary of a director? Couldn’t such a person deliver a picture that would please, providing the script was interesting and fundamentally correct? The answer is, “No.” Yet, on the face of the things, directing a picture seems fairly simple. What else does a director need outside of a continuity and a technical staff? Continuity is a unique piece of writing. It is a screen story broken down into sequences, which are, in turn, broken down into detailed scenes. Every scene necessary to motivate the story is included. Every bit of action is described for the players — from “long shots” to “closeups.” Following is a sample of the continuity in Paramount’s “The Woman Accused,” a unique story featuring Nancy Carroll and Cary Grant, writw 1 '-d ten by ten of America’s leading writers — Rupert Hughes, Vicki Baum, Zane Grey, Vina Delmar, Irvin S. Cobb, Gertrude Atherton, J. P. McEvoy, Ursula Parrott, Polan Banks, and Sophie Kerr: “He thrusts her away from him violently. She staggers against a table and in order to prevent herself from falling, her hand closes over a heavy bronze figure of Venus which is standing on the table. Leo, the ’phone still in his hands, turns toward the girl and leers.” The direction of such a scene seems simple, doesn’t it? But, how would you group the players? Which is most important to the audience — the girl or the man? How is the playing to be emphasized? How long should the scene run in order to register the action without filming undue footage? A thousand and one questions are inspired by every scene and only a trained director can answer them. That is why Hollywood's directors are second in importance to the stars. A writer can sit in his office, write continuity and visualize the action. However, he unconsciously presents problems that are not realized until actual filming of the photoplay begins. For example, the geography of a set is something beyond . the writer’s control. The art department cannot, at all times, give the director settings the ( Cont’d on page 45)