Independent Exhibitors Film Bulletin (1955)

Significance cjf £H0\6 Pending heal TOM O'NEIL & TV By PHILIP R. WARD Young Tom O'Neil, of whom 'tis said, he is no mean hand at pyramiding a buck, is allegedly looking with favor upon a deal proffered by another pyramider of sorts. The mule-trader of the second part turns out to be none other than old showbusiness hand, Matty Fox, whose wheelingdealings and artful acumen mark him as a man with whom it does not pay to go bargaining unchaperoned. If Mr. Fox has his way — and there are some obstacles in the way — he will wind up with Mr. O'Neil's RKO library of some 750 features and 900 short subjects — less, for the time being, some 150 feature films which O'Neil wisely wishes to exploit first. The tab: approximately $12,000,000. Fox's objective? Well, he's not out to stock his private screening room. Film traffic with TV is Matty's intent. Needless to say, reports of the impending sale are sending seismic tremors through all hemispheres of the movie world. Exhibitor groups are bound to issue sizzling rebukes against what they consider a gross intrusion upon their boxoffice birthright. And well they might — at least on the surface. For the argument goes that whatever aids the living room show-box is, in direct ratio, injurious to the theatre on the street. For a major distributor to perpetrate this foul act is little short of treason against the crown. O'Neil's fellow producers will likely burn in less articulate fashion, though it seems certain that at least someone feeling done-in will take to the stump in answer to this betrayal of the unwritten movie industry code of "Don't Sell to TV". May Be Trial Balloon Yes, Mr. O'Neil will take his lumps. That seems sure enough, if what we've been hearing proves something less guileful than a mere trial balloon (and some observers will tell you the reports are just that). The issue at stake is Mr. O'Neil's propriety in handing to television Hollywood's first major catalog of major motion pictures. Based upon the reams of warnings disseminated by movie spokesmen in recent years — and this includes exhibitors and distributors both — Mr. O'Neil would appear to have scrapped discretion for a monetary kind of valour. It remains, however, to review the merits of some of the most popular of these caution signals. Let's determine for ourselves just where fact begins and myth leaves off : 1) It has been solemnly declared that whoever first opens backlog commerce with the TV "enemy" must bear the responsibility for the ensuing stampede by other filmmakers. The floodgate damming up Hollywood's libraries must remain inviolate — or else. 2) Such a longlong rush would, of its nature, reduce films to a drug on the market, and thereby depreciate Hollywood's loot to a mere pittance. 3) Only the first to sell would command a truly objective price. 4) TV, thus armed with substantial inventories of films, would then represent a greater boxoffice menace than ever. Since, under a recent revenue department ruling, income from the sale of vintage films may be treated as capital gains rather than ordinary income — a tax saving of approximately 50 percent, Mr. O'Neil seems to stand poised to gather in a fast buck. He spends $25 millions for RKO ; sells the backlog for $12 millions and keeps most of that coin, and hangs on to RKO's major assets to boot. Before he makes himself this handsome deal, and before the torches are lit by those who regard it as destructive to movie business, let's take a close look at the merits of the four-point argument made above. Others Won't Dance To Tune 1) It is doubtful that the other film companies will dance to Mr. O'Neil's tune. RKO's circumstances are RKO's alone. What one film company wishes to do with its backlogs has no logical relation to what another does. Mr. O'Neil's lamb-chop might well be Mr. Skouras' heartburn. It is hard to imagine a more purely individualistic society of commercial artisans than that one heterogenrously existing in southern California. One studio chieftain would rather burn his $300 cashmere sport-jacket than be found in the company of some shoddy $250 imitation. Company policies take similar turns. As for the floodgates, there's no steel and concrete — simply old fashioned economic horse-sense holding back the libraries. This was eloquently proved in the recent successful defense of the five film companies involved in the government's 16mm case. During the attendance depression, backlogs were untouchable because no prudent film-man would risk total extinction of an already feverridden exhibition market. During the recent recovery backlogs have been withheld for reason of TV's financial inadequacies. This will go on as long as TV fails to meet the price demanded by the companies owning those films. That Mr. O'Neil may sell and his competitors not is neither strange nor puzzling. Mr. O'Neil's is not a sound-stage operation exclusively. He owes an obligation to a number of wards — not the least of which is television. His interests in that field antedated his entrance into movie-making by several years. 2) Before films can glut the TV market — and consequently shatter proper pricing — the assumption is that they will be dumped like so many sacks of surplus potatoes. Nothing of that kind is likely. Films are not raised like fatted hogs to be so disposed of; they have a second life which endows them with commercial value, and no Page b Film BULLETIN December 12, 1 955