Modern Screen (Dec 1949 - Nov 1950)

;ood director is the most important facia a good picture." iVhen he signed with Paramount to ke three pictures for a minimum of i),000 apiece, he insisted, besides the fat to approve the final script, on having tipulation in the contract that each film old be directed by one of four top:chers — Frank Capra, William Wyler, orge Stevens and William Wilder. He ■ already finished two of the three pices, The Heiress and A Place in the Sun. :at his third will be, he doesn't know. z he does know that when he makes it, will be in the masterful hands of a ;t-rate director. ney isn't everything . . . 'low, this is definitely an unusual artgement. One may well wonder why er actors don't make the same sort of d. Actors like Gary Cooper, for innce. Cooper has been around for years, s got great prestige, he's a tremendous c-office draw. Why doesn't Cooper, 6 Clift, battle and argue over scripts I directors? The answer is that Cooper's main reason making movies is to make money — 0. 000 a picture, with frequently a peritage of the profits. To Clift, making ney is strictly secondary to helping lieve an artistic creation. n 1946, Howard Hawks phoned Clift in w York from Hollywood and offered a a job in Red River. He described the e and the story. Clift turned him down, don't think the part's right for me;" he d. And at that moment of superb real, Clift was broke and living on unployment compensation. 3ut Hawks persisted. "It's impossible me to give you a fair idea of this pice over the phone," he said. "Tell you at: m wire you expense money and i come out here and let me talk to 1. If you still don't like the part, you t fly back. Fair enough?" I lift agreed and went to Hollywood. "I s very much afraid of the part," he 5. "I didn't think I was physically right it. I didn't believe I could stand up to nan as big as John Wayne. But I liked story and Hawks gave me a good deal. I signed." q Clift's second picture, The Search, he used to play the role of the GI unless he ;ld do it as he thought it should be done n a natural, realistic manner. "And the y the part was written," he says, "the .racier was a Boy Scout type spreading :ility and virtue all over the lot. I was >posed to be so darned saintly a special p man would've been needed to polish halo. I felt the soldier had to get mad the kid and yell at him when the situa 1 was established, just as any normal lit does with a difficult kid." ^'Tien Clift was told the characterization ildn't be changed, he said he'd bow out :he picture. He was reminded that he'd ned for six weeks and couldn't bow out. X.," he said. "Suppose the picture isn't shed after six weeks. Is there anyig to prevent me from bowing out ,n?" "he script was changed and Clift was rnitted to play the role as he saw it. 2 picture was a success, Clift's artistic iscience was satisfied, and demands his services arose in every Hollywood dio. lontgomery Clift may often give a first :ression that he's a sort of barefoot boy. ie is, he's a barefoot boy with his feet nted firmly on a path going up — a path y definitely of his own choosing. The End MARCH ISSUE OF MODERN SCREEN IS ELIZABETH TAYLOR BIRTHDAY BOOK Oh, lovely Blonde! My voice I raise, Your tender, golden charms to praise. When I am soiled beyond belief, Your perfume heralds prompt relief. Beneath your swift and gentle care, I shun all washday wear and tear. And when with me you've hod your way m cleansed of 'Tattle-Tale-ish' Gray. All subsf/fufes I now decline, Dear Blondie, be my Valentine GOLDEN BAR OR GOLDEN CHIPS Feis-Napfha Soap BANISHES "TATTLE-TALE GRAY"