The American cinematographer (Jan-Dec 1948)

ond film in the series, the Transfilm cam¬ era crew worked in villages of the Pueblo Indians scattered throughout the Rio Grande Valley of New Mexico. Here the most ticklish problem was one of diplo¬ macy, and the crew constantly faced the possibility of losing native friends and incurring the wrath of their village neigh¬ bors by making an indiscreet shot. Cer¬ tain buildings and grounds of each vil¬ lage are held sacred in Pueblo spirit wor¬ ship, and the filming of such sanctuaries would have been a serious violation of spiritual law. The director, somewhat hin¬ dered by language difficulties, went out of his way to explain his cinematic inten¬ tions to the pueblo authorities before shooting each sequence. It was difficult at first to get the com¬ plete co-operation of the Indians due to the fact that they were used to Holly¬ wood production companies whose budg¬ ets permitted higher gratuities than those offered by a documentary budget. There was a good deal of discussion about wam¬ pum before the peace-pipe was finally passed. Briefly outlined, the story of "Pueblo Boy” deals with Vivian, an aged Indian who is instructing his young son, Moses, in the customs of the Pueblo tribe. There are flashbacks into the historical lore of the tribe, interesting shots of the Pueblo architecture, and a colorful sequence of the ritual Hoop Dance. The climax of the film shows the young boy dancing in the street parade of the annual Indian Cere¬ monial Festival at Gallup, New Mexico. The extreme desert heat made the shooting of "Pueblo Boy” very difficult for cast and crew alike. Repeated takes under the hot sun sometimes caused sitdown strikes among the actors, but breaks for cold soft drinks nearly always re¬ sulted in a perfect take. An ice chest full of soda pop was standard equipment dur¬ ing shooting. Moses, the young boy in the film, was quietly temperamental, as actors go. He had never been away from home, how¬ ever, and the prospect of going to the Gallup Festival to dance in the street parade fascinated him. Reminders of this promised treat often drew his co-opera¬ tion when it seemed that he was about to "walk off the set.” During the filming of one sequence in the ruins of an aban¬ doned pueblo, the boy was directed to walk through a honeycomb of crumbled adobe cells about three feet high, which symbolized his ancient heritage. Young Moses wasn’t much interested in acting that afternoon, and he ad-libbed little side-trips from the charted walk-on, mak¬ ing things very difficult for the director. After many retakes on the scene, cast and crew took a break for soda pop — and when shooting was resumed, the boy was nowhere to be found. The director scanned the ruins and estimated that there • were possibly 140 separate adobe cells in the area, each big enough to conceal a crouching eight-year-old lead player. The crew searched through 95 of the cells before they found Moses pouting in the 96th. It took a piece of hard western sil¬ ver and an extra round of soda pop to get the "star” back onto the set. A particularly interesting feature of "Pueblo Boy” is its musical score which features authentic Pueblo chants recorded on the spot by means of a Fairchild re¬ corder. The gasoline-powered generator towed onto the desert to operate the re¬ corder had to be carefully maneuvered downwind of the microphone, or tucked into a cave or behind a knoll so that the noise of the motor would not be picked up. There was the added problem of keeping powdery desert dust and sand out of the delicate sound and camera equipment. Light conditions were gener¬ ally brilliant, but a clear sky often filled with enormous cumulus clouds in a mat¬ ter of seconds, forcing the camera crew to grab shots "between clouds.” “Southern Highlanders” In order to secure authentic footage for a film document of America’s hill folk, it was necessary to send a camera crew into the most remote mountain villages of North Carolina, where the natives still sing the Elizabethan ballads of their an¬ cestors and speak somewhat the same dia¬ lect of English. Getting from location to location over sketchy mountain trails with a heavilyladen camera truck was a major problem, as was the lighting of interiors in backwoods schools, churches and homes. In one instance, the local utilities co-op strung a 220-volt circuit some 400 feet from the nearest transformer to the "set” — but with the battery of lights connected, the voltmeter wouldn’t strain a point over 95 on either side of the stage-box. A compromise was reached by trimming both sides of the circuit and cutting some of the "length” out of the long shots. The weather also conspired against the camera crew by serving up a prolonged rainy spell that coincided with the first ten days of the shooting schedule. Even on so-called "clear” days, an obstinate haze screened distant mountains from the lens and frustrated attempts to portray the mountain man against his incredibly punctuated background. In order to get scenes of the mountain church singing, it was necessary for the director to go through the local "chain of command.” He had to interview each of six deacons of the church, explaining the nature of the film to each and getting his approval before passing on to the next. The Sunday on which the shooting was done happened to be the Sunday for the regional minister’s monthly visit, and he still owes the congregation a sermon. Recording of the church singing as well as of the old mountain ballads was accom¬ plished by means of the Fairchild re¬ corder. Behind the Production Scene The professional finish of the "Ameri¬ cans at Home” series reflects the talents of a group of very able technicians. The ser¬ ies was produced by Walter Lowendahl, former assistant producer of M-G-M short subjects; and directed by Lawrence Madi¬ son, former director-cameraman with the O.W.I. film division. Director of Photog¬ raphy for the series was Willard Vogel, who was at one time on the M-G-M camera staff. Burton Rowles, Jr., formerly of United Press, wrote the excellent scripts for all three films. Music for "Men of Glou¬ cester” and "Southern Highlanders” was composed and recorded by Emil Velazco, while Robert Stringer arranged the inter¬ esting native musical score for "Pueblo Boy.” All three of the films were photo¬ graphed principally with Cine Special equipment. Native songs, recorded on lo¬ cation with the Fairchild unit equipped with a synchronous motor, were later re¬ recorded onto film. The average shooting time on each location was a little over six weeks. The "Americans at Home” series de¬ parts from the established concept of commercial films in that it does not plug the sponsor’s product. Aside from a mod¬ est sponsor credit in the main and end presentation titles, plus an unobtrusive shot of a Ford car in each of the films, there is no suggestion of commercialism. This fact has enabled the series to be widely distributed in schools throughout the nation. "Men of Gloucester” and "Pueblo Boy" received awards in the "Films of the World” Festival held recently at Chicago’s Surf Theatre. The State Department has acquired distribution rights to "Glou¬ cester” and is translating the sound track into 27 foreign languages. It was original¬ ly planned to edit one-reel versions of each subject for theatrical release in Technicolor, but the plan had to be shelved due to the difficulty in securing Technicolor print commitments. The "Americans at Home” series is an exemplary project. It may well mark the beginning of a new era for the documen¬ tary film on the American screen. Ansco Continues Expansion Ansco starts early production on an ad¬ dition to its factory at Binghamton, N. Y. at cost of $2,000,000, according to an¬ nouncement of general manager E. Allan Williford. New plant, expected to be com¬ pleted within six months, will allow for substantial increase in Ansco production of color film. 96 March, 1948 American Cinematographer