The educational screen (c1922-c1956])

From Hollywood Conducted by M. T. O. AS one studies from one angle or another this business of making "movies," it assumes greater and greater proportions, and more and more angles. There are, of course, certain dis- tinct and established phases of production that must be recognized by every one concerned, and yet it might be said that there are as many different angles from which to consider this "fifth estate" as there are persons concerned in its growth. For in spite of the enormous advances it has made in a comparatively' short time, there is still so much growth to be made—there are so many possibili- ties—that the motion picture really is only at an early stage in its ultimate development. I talked recently to Paul Bern, who is head of the scenario department at the Goldwyn studio, and who is, through his experience in that capacity, qualified to discern some of the more interesting points of this altogether interesting business. We talked at first about scenarios. He traced for me the course of the picture from the first reading of the first manu- script, to the final printing of the last title, and in so doing, shed light on some of the hitherto dark mysteries of the principles of motion picture construction. In the first place, said Mr. Bern, the manuscripts come flooding to the studio from everywhere, at the rate of some twenty-five thousand every year. Obvi- ously no one person could manage to get this number read, much less consider their merits as motion picture material. So the studio employs a corps of readers who actually read (contrary to the belief of many an ambitious writer) all the ma- terial that reaches the studio. Synopses are made of those stories which are con- sidered worth passing on to the chie reader. He, in turn, eliminates all bu the best, which then go to the scenari editor and his two associates for thei final acceptance or rejection. Very few outside manuscripts ar bought, largely, I judged, although Mi Bern did not say so, because few outsid w r riters know enough of screen technic.t,i write an acceptable story. By "screei technic" I mean not the form in w cl the story is written for the screen, but tn type of story which is best suited to th» medium of the screen. As they read, the editors fill in fo: themselves the bare outlines of the plot? missing, of necessity, much that the origi nal manuscript—novel, play, or shor story—would have supplied. But (Jkt*r the scenario editor shrugged his should resignedly) in a big plant where produc tion must proceed on schedule, and mam units must be kept busy, there is no enough time for intensive reading o. lengthy manuscripts, and so, of two evils the lesser is chosen. The accepted plot goes to the c< ity writer, who puts it into coi form: that is, he elaborates the incidents draws characters, introduces "heart in terest," creates situations, arranges epi sodes so that they lead smoothly t< climax and conclusion, and indicates th< action in as much detail as the directo may wish. The resulting "script" goe into the hands of the director, who ma; make changes in it, though never with out the consent of the scenario commit tee. For the director, working at clos- range on a multiplicity of detailed inci dent, often loses his perspective, where as the scenario editors, their chief concen being the whole story, can see it as i| unit. Sometimes, carried away by th> 268