International photographer (Jan-Dec 1934)

Eight The INTERNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER May, 1934 The University in Motion Picture Production By Richard L. Bare, Supervising Director and Ginematographer [Editor's Note: The Department of Cinematography of the University of Southern California has for the last five months been engaged in the production of a motion picture version of Edgar Allen Poe's story, "The Oval Portrait." It is an entirely student-made production, under the faculty-guidance of Dr. Boris V. Morkovin, Instructor of Cinematography.] HIS article is written in the interest of perhaps saving some other professionally-minded amateurs, like myself, from many disheartening hours of discouragement when and while making a serious motion picture drama. There are pages and pages of "do's and dont's for amateurs" continually being written by those who know, yet the majority of amateurs go right on making ferocious cine film. Almost every time we pick up a trade journal, or turn to the amateur section of a picture magazine, we are bluntly confronted with such oft-heard phrases as "don't pan too quickly", or "be sure to use a tripod", or some other equally fundamental rule regarding the proper use of the cine camera. But these cautioning writers of the "do's and dont's" columns, only transport their knowledge insofar as purely technical points are concerned ; that is, usually. Lenses, filters, lighting and maybe an idea or two on trick work are usually the constituents of a general amateur movie article. These are all very necessary to the camera-owner who wants to put an image on his film, but the equally important information regarding the making of an amateur motion picture, such as organization, administration and the necessary details which must be executed before an amateur drama can be made, are sadly neglected. Perhaps the best known authorities on how to produce an amateur movie are those who have produced amateur movies. At any rate, they are well qualified to tell of their experiences so that other ambitious movie makers can either profit or lose by said experiences. What has happened in amateur picture making is a good criterion for what is right or wrong. For the dyed-in-the-wool aspirant who thinks in terms of professional cinema art and whose bits of camera work show that, this article is written, for, I think that the epitome of the amateur's success lies in the fact that he has at last created a motion picture of professional quality. In the first place, when the amateur makes up his mind that he must have a vent for his aesthetic intellect (in other words, decides to make a movie) he almost invariably chooses something that either means absolutely nothing in the way of worth while cinematics, or else he decides to produce a story so difficult and "arty" that many professionals wouldn't attempt doing it. Whether we of the Department of Cinematography at the University of Southern California fall into the former category, remains to be seen. At any rate, we chose "The Oval Portrait," one of Edgar Allen Poe's lesser known novels. The reason this was selected is not exactly known, unless it was because the story in itself more or less contained an unfinished thought. Poe leaves you wondering why he ever wrote such a story. This was just what we wanted because the original would therefore be flexible and easily adaptable to whatever thought we desired to express in our motion picture dramatization. Briefly, the original story, in typical Poe style, describes the arrival to the old darkened chateau, on a stormy evening, of the stranger and his valet. Amidst Please mention The International Photographer when corresponding with advertisers thunder and lightning and a downpour of rain, the two somber figures take refuge for the night in one of the remote rooms of the chateau. Here the stranger prepares for bed, but before this, discovers a small, black book which describes the history and importance of the various paintings hanging around the room. Reading this book in bed, the stranger, after several hours of intense interest in the paintings and their descriptions in the book, realizes that the candelabra by which he is reading, is not in the most advantageous position. He extends his arm to pull it closer to him, and as this is done, the light protrudes on to a portion of the wall hitherto unnoticed. When the stranger's eyes meet the oval portrait hanging in this heretofore darkened spot, he is completely hypnotized by it, and raising up into a half reclining position, stares for hours, strangely entranced. When later he suddenly comes to his senses and falls back on to his pillow, his thoughts turn to the book and to what it might have to say about this mysterious oval portrait. Then reading from the pages we see the rest of the story in retrospect. There is a painter who falls in love with the maiden and marries her. He then desires to make her immortal upon canvas and so she poses for him. Day in and day out she poses and he paints. His neglect of her is described ; he loves his bride, but not as she is upon the stand, but as she is upon the canvas. She suffers untold agonies through his neglect and enthusiasm for his work. The room is cold and barren ; winter passes and still he eagerly paints on. Finally the last touch is applied and the painter, in great jubilance throws back his paints and pallet and exclaims in a loud voice, "It's life itself!" Then for the first time in days he turns to regard his bride — to behold her figure on the floor, dead. This is where Poe leaves you. Whatever connection there has been between the old man in the bedroom and the tragic figure described in the little black book, one must imagine. And so we did. We left the beginning almost identical with the exception of changing the valet into a chauffeur, and the time of the story from the nineties to around 1920. We used the chauffeur to create a mysterious mood right from the very beginning, preparing the audience for the mood of the story. When we dissolve out from the pages of the book and go into the root of the story seen in retrospect, here is where our scenario department took the stand. But to make Poe's nucleus, or rather the unfinished thought, as I insist upon calling it, into a story which is perfectly and sanely congruous, a definite tie-up must be made between the old man in the chateau, and the painter and his bride. This was done by what we termed the "key situation." Simply and logically, the girl gives her painterlover a small cross, which she tells him is a token of her love, and that he should wear it forever. Then we proceed, with the arrival of a bulletin-announcement telling the painter that a scholarship to the Paris Art Academy will be presented to the artist-creator of the most perfect conception of feminine charm and beauty.