Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb 1914 - Sep 1916 (assorted issues))

When the Motion Picture was born, it was like all newlyborn things — awkward and crude. A great field, a dream to be realized, hung upon the outcome of a wonderful little invention, and the invention itself was not a certainty. That was why the Motion Picture and every relative branch connected with its manufacture and use were crude, and there Avas not a more crude branch than the exhibition of the pictures. This branch, the building, managing and developing of the photoplay house, began in the lowliest of steps, to evolve into the most beautiful part of the whole industry — great as it now is. In those early days — not really so early, for the Motion Picture is still, we are frequently told, quite young — the exhibition of the pictures was a puzzle ; a game played in a hundred different ways ; a business based upon the ideas of each individual exhibitor. One man owned a projection machine and three thousand feet of film, which he carried from one town to another, exhibiting in old dance-halls, meeting-houses and churches. Another man rented a store on the main street of some small village — or, possibly, it was in the very city itself — filled it with chairs, built a flourishing cement or pressed-metal front, and equipped it with a noisy, flickering projection machine, unboothed and operated by the ticket-taker. Still another man, more venturesome, constructed a " theater" building for an exhibitor, making sure, however, that it could be easily broken up into stores again should his tenant meet with failure. Sometimes a pioneer photoplay was wedged into the bill at a big variety theater for novelty. In short, the exhibition of the now mighty film was crude and awkward, made upon cheap lines, in cheap places, and accompanied by a cheap recommendation of its patrons. 36 And, recalling those days, we cannot fail to see the marvelous changes which have occurred in the methods and places of exhibition. In each small town or city where we may chance we can see the new theater, with its modern architecture, flashing electric displays and massive construction. We cannot escape the tale oi success about this or that exhibitor, relating how, with accumulated capital, he abandoned the little show-inthe-store to tenant the new, spacious photoplay house. And in the big cities, too. The newly-built and under-construction photoplay houses there are beginning to rival the theaters, the homes of the legitimate stage. It is just these new photoplay houses that are the marvel and reflection of the Motion Picture industry. They are the proof of the progress made in the exhibition branch. The new photoplay house is luxurious. Its entrance gleams with lights and is of attractive design. Its portals are guarded by polite, uniformed men. Brass bars and neat signs aid and direct our convenience on entering. Inside, the murmur of a softly playing orchestra strikes our ears with pleasing effects. We sink into deep, plush seats at the advice of another polite attendant. We confront the magnificence of the interior, the rows of seats, the balconies, the boxes, the people, the high, vaulted ceilings. We see the screen, and how different it all is from the old showin-the-store ! How clear the characters are — how distinct and true their actions ! How like a real theater ! This, then, is the new photoplay house. A thousand-and-one just such places of exhibition now replace those formerly used for the crude photoplays. The newer, finer kind of pictures deserve this luxury. Every new photoplay house built is a monument erected to the progress of the Motion Picture.