Cinematographic annual : 1931 (1931)

78 CINEMATOGRAPHIC ANNUAL starting-button of the motor (which is in the cockpit, at some distance from the camera). Then he acts, directs, and photographs himself — to say nothing of flying the plane himself. This method, however, is not so satisfactory from the director's point of view — and it certainly isn't from the cameraman's. Despite all the test flights you may make, you cannot be sure that the atmospheric conditions will remain the same, or that your actor-pilot will remember that he is for the moment his own cameraman as well, and fly the ship so that the lighting, etc., is as it should be. In any sort of production cinematography it is a great advantage to work with a director who has a real knowledge of camerawork. Similarly, in aerial cinematography, it is an even greater advantage to work with a director who knows flying. Fortunately, most of the directors of air stories are pilots; William Wellman, Tay Garnett, Clarence Brown, Howard Hughes, Cecil de Mille, and many other outstanding directors are licensed pilots. It is well, too, to work with pilots who either have some knowledge of photography, or who at least have worked long enough in pictures to become camera wise — as are such men as Dick Grace, Frank Clarke, Frank Tomick, Art Goebel, or Bob Blair. But more than anything else, it is important to work with a pilot in whom you can place your entire confidence. You cannot do good work if you are worrying about your pilot's ability. If you are a pilot yourself, as was the late Alvin Knechtel, A. S. C, who would often maneuver the camera-ship into position himself, and then turn it over to the pilot, well and good. But better by far not to be a pilot, if being one makes you a worried, back-seat driver. In fact, if one could sum up the entire secret of aerial cinematography in a single sentence, it would be, "Know your stuff; trust uouc pilot to know his — then, both of you hop off and do your stuff V*