Screen Guilds Magazine (July 1935)

The Polychrome Typewriter W ITH a surprisingly small amount of literary charlatanry, I could here easily emulate the late professors, the msestros, the specialists and con¬ sultants and experts, who were so en¬ ergetically placing voices and modula¬ ting intonations and emasculating bas¬ sos prof undo back in 1929. I could follow the example of the smart boys, the elocutionists, the lady dramatic coaches and direct-by-mail dialogue teachers!—all the Lydia Pinkhams of the Arts, who so eagerly used to tell you how to act, write, direct for the talking screen. I could, yes sir, tell you about the still newer art of the films in this bles¬ sed year of 1935: the orange magenta chrome yellow heliotrope ultramarine ochre motion picture. I could stuff my shirt With a single rapid gesture and advise you how to write for it on your polychrome typewriter. B UT I won’t do it! I’ll not need to. Others will. Those same precious souls who used to discourse on the es¬ thetics, the dynamic symmetry of black- and-white, on the cinematographic jus¬ tification of the chase, and the filmic plasticity of the parabole described by a well-aimed custard pie .... All I can tell you is what you have suspected all along: that the urge, the considerations in the writing of the screen-play for “Becky Sharp” were primarily dramatic, not chromatic. But by the astounding candor of this admission, I have earned for myself the right to challenge anybody who claims to have invented the spectrum! A LL dramatic writing tries to tell a story. Preferably with honesty, at any rate entertainingly and with rea¬ sonable stage economy. The fact that this story may ultimately be translated into visual terms with the aid of color, does not argue that the basic tale need be dehydrated in its narration or in its drama. To claim, therefore, that a special type of story will have to be found or manu¬ factured for the color cinema, is to plead that a world different from ours will have to be depicted, with different hu¬ man beings. For, unless one is mis¬ taken, the future success of the color film can lie only in its ability to tell any By Francis Edwards Faragoh story and every story that is now told in black and white. There is no room for compromise here and none for subtle artiness. What new background can color show us ? The pageantry of historical landscape, the expansive canvas of mass-movement? We’ve seen them in black and white, even though color might endow them with new dimensions. Something new in human drama, by virtue of so many tints ? No! I catch faint whispers and vague half- thoughts of film “in terms of pure color.” But is the projection machine a color-organ? Or is it a mechanical eye endowed with ruthless realism? rr HEREFORE do not rely too much JL on predictions about the revolution to be brought about by the many-hued celluloid. The psychological effective¬ ness of an isolated scene or even of a series of scenes will undoubtedly be effected by a trick of lighting here, a (Continued On Page 19) Color-- Another Problem For The Censor?? C OLOR is upon us. No—we are not blushing. We refer to the immi¬ nent avalanche of motion pictures in color. The motion picture industry is once more in a whirl of uncertainty over a new technical development. Your editor has asked me, as a research au¬ thority on color reactions, my opinion on the psychological effects of natural color movies. Ah, the glories of all nature in color on the screen, the fascination of depict¬ ing rose blossoms and rum blossoms in all their pristine efflorscence! It would seem that all people would enjoy the display. But, will they? I fear that we shall encounter that determined mi¬ nority, which seeks and finds something insidious in any enjoyment. I can hear your protest —■ ‘ Isn’t color present everywhere in nature ? ” “ Yes, I answer, 1 1 and isn’t the reproductive urge present everywhere in nature ? And you know what the censors did to that. ’ ’ 9 3 P ERHAPS a little analysis of color reactions might illustrate. Every¬ one knows that when he sees red, Mr. Hearst breaks out in a violent rash of stud-horse headlines. And red to the Mrs. Grundys, who at present exert such a great influence in their concern over the “kiddies” (God d—bless ’em) represents the Scarlet woman, naughty symbol of the biological urge. Another shade of red stirs taboo feel¬ ings. It is present in all the exotic paintings of the great colorist, Gaugin. I have personally checked its effects. One day in the Metropolitan Museum a maiden lady (certainly a lady and, from her face and figure, assuredly a maiden) stood before one of Gaugin’s famous South Sea paintings. I noted scientifically her heightened color, her increased pulse and respiration. She trembled in vicarious pleasure. Finally a shockingly libidinous murmur escaped her pale, thin lips, “What red!^ I could have given myself to Gaugin! ’ ’ By Professor R. K. Orpheus Dwil There is a reaction to an elemental color stimulus. And therein lies grave danger. For the psychological permu¬ tations of such females lead them, to deny to others thrills enjoyed by them¬ selves. The foregoing seems to eliminate red from the screen. H OW about orange? Well, it stands for the great citrus industry of Cal¬ ifornia. Do you see what that means? Films are made in California and all of Florida would be up in arms, resenting the use of orange as advertising for Cal¬ ifornia fruit growers. Distributors Avould not dare chance a boycott of their product by an entire state. (Continued on Page 22) The Screen Guilds’ Magazine