Exhibitors Herald and Moving Picture World (Apr-Jun 1930)

22 EXHIBITORS HERALD-WORLD April 5, I93Q Censorship Is Exposed as Ridiculous Tyranny Will Bookful of Data Gathered by Ernst and Lorentz Play Big Role in Emancipation of Film Industry ? CENSORED: THE PRIVATE LIFE OF THE MOVIE. By Morris L. Ernst and Pare Lorentz. Published by Jonathan Cape and Harrison Smith. A LAWYER and a motion picture critic have combined to write a book about those strange and mysterious folk who censor our pictures. From time to time stories have cropped out exposing some of the highlights of this little known craft, but never before has an entire bookful of data been collected treating with the censors themselves; specifically, by name, by history, and by character. It marks a highlight in what may be the emancipation of films from a tyranny that would be doubly ridiculous were it not so close to home to be serious. The volume has been collected painstakingly', some of the facts seem to have been arrived at by clairvoyance, and the entire treatment smacks of a detailed and loving care bestowed by two authors, Morris L. Ernst and Pare Lorentz, who have a bountiful and genuine hatred of censorship. Takes Up Case of “Rain” There is no more graphic way to bring to you the gist of the book than to relate some of the incidents compiled in it. The first is the story behind the changing of the name of the play “Rain” to the picture title of “Sadie Thompson.” The villain in the play was a minister, in the films he was altered into a “professional reformer.” Somerset Maugham, a writer and physician with a circle of admirers in three continents, wrote the story, a moving treatise on sex inhibition. The story was of a prostitute “saved” by a lonely evangelist who later violated her and then cut his throat to erase his sin. The topic was not new, being contained in such esteemed works as “The^ Scarlet Letter,” “An American Tragedy,” “Hell Bent for Heaven,” which was written by a Columbia professor and won the Pulitzer Prize as the best American play of the year, and various other plays and novels accepted by the country for years. “Rain” had to change its title and the profession of the villain but audiences could go to any corner bookstore and buy the original story and play. The Chameleon Censors “Censored” points out that in three pictures, “Old San Francisco,” “The Prodigal” and “The Ten Commandments,” white slavery, orgies, nudity, drinking and debauchery were successively passed by the chameleon censor merely because they showed — in one short reel — the reward of the sinner; usually a hurried death so that much of the footage should not be taken from the “hot” parts — by cloaking the salacious story with a sanctimonious air of expounding a moral anything can get by. Mary Pickford’s “Coquette,” taken from a beautiful play by George Abbot, was utterly ruined by the refusal of the censor board to permit the heroine to be pregnant, which was the situation upon which the entire play revolved. In “Variety,” the now famous German film, every censor board except New York’s cut out almost two reels, destroying the plot completely. Eighth Avenue laborers could see “Variety” as it was made by its By NORMAN KRASNA EVAN CHESTERMAN, invalid who spends much of his time in a wheelchair, is the head of the Virginia censorship board, which ordered more than 6.000 deletions in pictures in a year, and then reported to the governor that “business steadily increases!” directors but the faculty of Lawrence, Kansas, could not! Philadelphia, home of the Curtis School of Music, the Academy of Art, the city of Joseph Pennell, Josef Hoffman, Leopold Stokowski, made “Anna Karenina,” heroine of Tolstoy’s masterpiece, marry her lover; overruling the story of a philosopher that had lived through two generations. Six State Censor Boards; But — “Censored” explains that only six states have film censor boards: New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Kansas, Virginia and Ohio. This does not mean that uncensored films are shown in 42 states. A state license may be approved by a neighbor state, as West Virginia usually gets films cut by the Pennsylvania board; Missouri, those cut passed by Kansas, etc. To make a film costs from $35,000 to $1,500,000 (or more), consequently companies cannot afford to lose sales in six big states by having even one picture rejected or cut to pieces. The six censor boards have the power to ruin the big companies. “Although they (the censors) are merely petty politicians, it is extraordinary how well the censors have kept their activities and their personalities secret,” the authors write. “They refuse to admit their work. They will not submit to interviews. Go to any movie executive and ask him about the state censors. Those who have met the censors refuse to talk about them. They are afraid, actually afraid, of these people. Each movie company has a corps of diplomats, delegated to work and soothe these state censors. These men would not discuss the work of the censors. ‘We might get in trouble.’ A $2,500 a year politician has the power to humiliate and cow a $100,000 executive. It’s a good show.” One chapter is devoted to Will Hays, titled “The Bishop of Hollywood.” Quot ing entirely from that chapter on those portions applying directly to him: “To begin his work, Hays had to become a super-press agent. Before him the little men had cried ‘sin, sin’ and the public had pushed its nickels across the counter. But they had told their story too well, and it was up to Hays to cry ‘for shame — all is pure.’ And he did a good job. Whatever else he may be, he is probably America’s greatest press agent. Since 1922 Hays has grown in power and influence as his clients have developed. . . . “With his knowledge of politics, his influence, his skill, why doesn’t Hays fight the censors? He does, and he doesn’t. He fights new censorship bills, but his general policy has been to let well enough alone. His writers send reams of literature to the press praising the innocence of the modern movie. He seeks to eliminate censorship in this manner. As you will recall, Hays has not been noted in the past for putting his cards on the table. Again, if he defied the censors it would cause trouble. The politicians would object, and Hays has a tender, forgiving spirit for the politician. “Caution Is Password” “The independent theatre owners might object to the dominance of the big producers, and Senator Norris or some other fiery liberal might bring up the old suits the Federal Trade Commission has brought against Paramount, et al., and cause further unpleasantness. No, Hays will not start a street fight with Pennsylvania or Maryland censors. Rather he will caution his clients to take it easy. “Hays is the biggest priest of them all. He not only has a huge corporate body to sell to the public, but he has a product that at any time may blow up, kick back, and hurt the owners. He has to be careful and virtuous. And he does a good job. All movie producers are not fools. They underestimate the assimilating power of the American middle class, but they have no illusions as to why Hays is worth $150,000’ and more a year. Hays has taken the club woman, the church, and the censor and humored them enough to get their support. “A man used to the ways of political subterfuge, with no especial literary or scientific background, Will Hays peculiarly eptomizes the class conscious, fearful yet aggressive spirit that has made the American movie an industry, and little else. Search hard and find a man more fitted to handle petty politicians, middle aged meddling prudes, and aggressive financiers. The controllers, the movie barons, are satisfied with his work. The dividends are coming in. We can expect no fight for freedom, taste or mature thought in their product so long as the Bishop of Hollywood chants his platitudes and swings his pot of purity.” The foregoing summary of Will Hays has all been culled from the book, and while only a small portion of the total accusations, is sufficient to give the reader an idea of what the book is like. As much as has been quoted, there still remains chapter upon chapter of startling information that should make every one in the industry feel it a personal obligation to eat a censor a day until the supply gives out. Pare Lorentz is the capable critic of “Judge” and he and his co-worker, Morris L. Ernst, are hereby voted a hearty bouquet of thanks for their efforts in clearing a grave and needless ally of what may yet be America’s contribution to art.