Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1916)

The Ince Studios 39 over those wonderful Scotch chimneys. That fixed their Scotch village scene." Mr. Ince's eyes gleamed with just pride as we drew near to the "set" which was in reality almost the size of an executive building. "We have to do it now, you know, at this stage of the game. No more painted scenery, but real things. This set cost eighty thousand dollars, and was built to be shown for one hundred feet of film, which takes one and threefourths minutes to see." Though I staggered again before the figures, I managed to steady myself and ask: "And now what will you do with it?" "Blow it up some day when we need a high-priced explosion — no one has the heart to do it yet." I looked at the substantial quality of the building of noble columns and the enormous flights of steps, at the real silk curtains at the numerous windows, at the statue of the city hero in the park in front, at the sculptured lions and the concrete walks. "This is the capitol of a mythical city in one of the biggest antiwar plays ever produced for the screen," explained Mr. Ince. "It has taken nine months to produce the picture, and three months to assemble the films. We hauled ninety thousand feet of lumber to the top of this hill with bullocks ; used two thousand dollars' worth of glass ; the concrete and grading inclosing the lawn cost five thousand dollars ; twenty-five thousand people took part in the mob scene ; sixty carpenters worked three months on it ; there " "Don't tell me any more !" I exclaimed. "I begin to see where the money went." And this eighty-thousand-dollar set is merely a one-andthree-f ourths-minute incident ! What must the whole story be ! "I know it costs money," he stated thoughtfully, "but we owe a treat to the public every now and then, and we always try to give them their money's worth in the pictures we turn out here." Then he mentioned several figures which were so large that I became confused and lost track of them ; but when Mr. Ince said good-by to me at the foot of the hill I had a fair idea of the money that was spent at this wonderful place. It seemed to me as if all the money I saw pouring into the cashiers' windows in front of the moving-picture houses in New York and other cities were rocketed across the continent and fell in a golden shower over these producing plants, so fabulous seems the prices paid to stars and so high the cost of production. Forty thousand dollars is the average for each play at Inceville, and one five-reel picture is released each week. The salaries paid the stars are as lofty as the "seven hills" on which stand Inceville. Forty thousand dollars was paid for five weeks of Billie Burke's time with the company. A contract for two years at eight hundred dollars a week has been signed with Frank Keenan, after his success in "The Coward." William S. Hart and Bessie Barriscale also draw very high salaries as regular stars with the company, and one can imagine what inducement must have brought the famous Mary Anderson out of her seclusion of so many years' standing. For they say it is really true that Mary Anderson is to be with the studio soon. As I departed from this wonder place of the motion-picture world, it was with regret and a little envy toward those who are permitted to spend every day amid such ideal surroundings. I looked out from the window of my car as we approached the summit of the hill which would soon shut Inceville from my view and thought what a wonderful city of illusions it was, and how far its influence reached — and how fortunate many people are to be subject to that influence.