American cinematographer (Jan-Dec 1941)

THROUGH the EDITOR S FINDER ONE of the worst disadvantages under which we who make motion pictures labor is the fact that producer and consumer must necessarily be so far separated. Editorial writers in the industry's trade papers have repeatedly urged upon the industry's executives, directors, stars and scenarists the importance of getting away, at least occasionally, from their usual haunts in Hollywood and New York, giving themselves a chance to meet and mingle with the great audience for whom we make our pictures, learning at first hand what the public wants. To this writer's mind, it is fully as important for those of us concerned even remotely with the technical aspects of production to find out how that audience is being given our work. For we here in Hollywood live in our own little Shangri-La of technical perfection. When a major studio makes a picture, endless pains are taken to make sure that every tiniest technicality of photography and recording is perfect. When we see the completed product, we see it almost invariably amid the technically perfect surroundings of a studio projection-room, or one or another of the better-equipped theatres of the Los Angeles area. We see a specially made Hollywood print, given the finest of projection and sound reproduction. But — what happens when that same picture goes into release? What and how does the paying public see it? Recently we got a partial answer to that question. It wasn't particularly flattering — but it merits the attention of all of us. We've had as our guest in Hollywood a top-flight commercial cinematographer from one of the large middle-western cities. He's a man who knows photography, sound, prints and projection. During his stay we took him to several studio previews, and on one occasion, we visited one of Los Angeles' better neighborhood theatres to see a film both of us had previously missed. As we came out of the theatre, he turned to us and remarked feelingly, "You fellows who live in Hollywood don't know how lucky you are. We'll see that same production back home — but it won't be the same picture at all. You tell me this is just an average neighborhood theatre — but let me tell you something: back home we don't have such projection or sound-reproduction even in our biggest and best firstrun theatres! We can get sound like that in our radios — but not in our theatres; we never see such fine projection, and the prints — well, the prints our first-run houses get can't compare with what I've seen in this third-run theatre in Hollywood. What we get at home is just a pale shadow of the picture and sound you people make for us. Of course I know it just isn't in the cards for us to get clean, fresh, flawless prints like the one I saw previewed at the studio the other night — but I wish that just once we could see a print like the one I saw tonight, projected the way I just saw it! We're only getting about a third of what we pay for when we go to the box-office at home." It seems to us that we in Hollywood are getting only a fraction of what we pay and are paid for, too, when our product reaches its customers under such conditions. Projection and theatre matters are of course out of the sphere of this publication. But it wrould seem that we in Hollywood's technical community have a vital interest in the sort of prints that carry our wares to the public. More recently, in chance conversation with two others — a Hollywood cinematographer and a laboratory expert — we added further potent thoughts along the same line. The cinematographer told us of being on location and seeing a release print of one of his own pictures. He had seen the master print in the studio, and he could hardly recognize his own work in the release-print he saw in the field. It was worn, of course, but he could make allowances for that. What he could not understand was the obvious carelessness with which the print had been made. Despite all the care which he and the Hollywood laboratory supervisor had taken in timing and balancing that master print, the release-print appeared to have been made with little thought of correct timing. Where perhaps a scene or two needed to be printed a point darker or lighter, these corrections were ignored; one whole reel appeared to have been printed with the light-change cues out of sync. In every reel, contrast and gradation were unbelieveably distorted. A few hours later, the laboratory expert, discussing the same problem of coordinating the work of the daily and release-print laboratories, commented on how on one recent production a releaseprinting contract hinged on a difference of less than S0.005 — five mills — per foot! We don't know how the quality of output in the several release-printing plants involved may vary — but we wonder if in many instances the industry may not be penny-wise and pound-foolish in settling release-printing deals on such picayunish savings. On the particular production involved, this saving in release-print costs totalled — for the rutin' release — less than $300. That is less than a week's salary for the man who photographed that picture, or for its cheapest featured player. It is less than one tenth of what was spent for raw picture-negative alone. A single good day's business in any first-run theatre in a large city should bring in far more at the box-office. And vet for such a small, penny-pinching pseudoeconomy, many a producer runs the risk of wasting much of the work his camera and sound crews have done in their efforts to give him the best possible photography and sound for his production! We wonder if it pays! SOME people in Hollywood are prone to say that cinematographers aren't news. But every so often, along comes a writer or journalist who hasn't heard that dictum — and by writing intelligently about cinematographers, proceeds to prove it false. All of which is by way of extending the sincere appreciation of the A.S.C. to two noted writers who have recently given the camera profession their attention in national periodicals. First is John Erskine, who in the February 22 issue of Liberty has a sincere and praiseworthy article entitled "Hollywood Cameraman," wherein he interviews Joseph Valentine, A.S.C. and Harry Stradling, A.S.C, in a way which while not perhaps phototechnically perfect, certainly presents the cinematographer to the lay reader in a truer light than anything we've seen in a long time. Second comes actress-columnist Hedda Hopper, whose daily syndicate column is always ready to give credit to the achievements of the men behind the camera. To both of them, our most sincere appreciation — our thanks for recognizing that cinematographers are "good copy," and proving it so capably. And a suggestion — there are several hundred other directors of photography whose achievements, ideas and personalities are equally newsworthy; and the A.S.C. and its official publication stand ready and eager to give you every cooperation in your efforts to bring your readers further honest news about the men who film their movies. SOMETIMES we wonder if those of us in the cinetechnical community really appreciate the services offered us by the raw-stock manufacturers and their distributors. We lunch with them, play golf with them, accept their advice on professional and technical problems — but do we ever give a serious thought to the intricate job they are constantly doing for us? There was a time — not so many years ago, either — when if a cinematographer or laboratory-man wanted film, he could freely choose between a magnificent array of two types: negative and positive. If he wanted to find out anything about the performance or technical characteristics of that film, it was usually up to him to find it out for himself, at his own expense or that of his studio. If the results obtained were not up to (Continued on Page 136) 114 March, 1941 Amkrican Cinematographer