The Cine Technician (1939)

Aug-. -Sept., 1937 THE CINE-TECHNICIAN 79 and Bert Kalmar, song writer. Herewith the imaginary minutes ol the meeting. ("You know, sometimes they seem more like hours." — Horton.) Jolson [rapping for order and not getting it) — Gentlemen, gentlemen ! William ( To Muni) — I saw you in your last picture and you were great. You wore a beard. Muni — I'm wearing one now. William — Well, you were great anyway. Ameche {To Tracy) — I saw you in your last picture and you were great. Tracy — I didn't see you in yours, but you were great too. Hopkins (Who wasn't in his hist picture) — Let's come to order, fellows, or Jolson will sing "Sonny Boy." All (Groans). Jolson — The Encino Chamber of Commerce is now in session. Horton (Pleased) — Really ? Jolson — We're ready to listen to constructive suggestions. (As everybody starts talking) — Wait a minute ! One at a time. We'll start with me. I am in favour of lower water rates and cheaper irrigation. How does that strike you, fellows ? Horton — Here, here ! Tracy — Mr. Chairman ! Jolson — Who, me ? Just call me Al, pal. Tracy — Mr. Chairman, I own a ranch on White Oak Street. It is a very nice street, but there are no lights on it. Fenton — Mr. Chairman ! I move we submit a proposition for more paved streets north of Ventura Boulevard. Mr. Horton will second this motion, I know. Horton — What ? Oh, absolutely. That's what I came here for. I just remembered. More paved streets, Mr. Chairman, of course. Jolson — Now we're getting somewhere. Will somebody back my plan to demand lower water rates ? Muni (Booming) — I will. Jolson (Startled) — And who are you ? Muni— I'm Paul Muni. Holloway (Jeering) — Yeah, and I'm Luise Rainer ! Jolson — Silence ! This man says he is Paul Muni. All in favour say "Aye ! " Against, "Nay ! " (Mixed chorus of Ayes and Nays) — Well if you can't make up your mind, we may as well adjourn — Muni — Doesn't anybody know me ? \\ "illiam — I know you, Muni — or is it Mooney ? You were great in your last picture. Holloway — I second the motion. Jolson — Meeting's adjourned ! Horton — Oh dear, I did so want those paved streets . . . Now comes the "high spot" so far of my sojourn here (the new one will be if I get any work) — my interview with the High Llama of the film industry at the largest studio in the world (according to their own publicity department). The appointment was for 2.30 and I was on the dot, as for me it was important. One of the first things you have to learn in Hollywood is always to turn up at least an hour late for anything — you'll still be early. We — my father and I— were greeted by a typist in the extreme outer office and were asked to wait for a few minutes. After an hour or so we were met by a secretary and conducted one office further in. And so on through three offices, past four secretaries at last to His personal secretary. A little more waiting and at 5.30 we were ushered into The Presence. A vast office, pannelled in some kind of blue wood, with a hideous Victorian fireplace and clock on one side. At the extreme end a still more vast desk. Oval in shape, with a hole in Leigh Aman. Bette Davis. Ian Hunter, Lady Marley, Lord Marley and Edmund Goulding on the set of "That Certain Woman." a Warner Bros. Hollywood production, the middle, in which He sat surrounded by telephones. He never spoke or smiled, just looked — so my lather began by thanking Him for his help on the previous night. (He had given $10,000 for a certain cause.) Then the phone rang and for ten minutes he talked with his agent about some woman they were signing up. A snatch of the conversation was, I remember : "Well, we'll let hei cool off foi a couple of days — remember we're dealing with a mad woman ! " He rang off, smiled at us, and said to me, "Call me up on Monday, we'll see what can be done." A secretary appeared and we were gently but firmly removed. As yet that's the last I've heard. I only repeat this, because I hope some people on the way up will read it and remember not to become too important. Concerning the strike, I don't know how much has been printed in England. Here, of course, it was News, which is always eagerly lapped up whether true or not — and plenty was printed that was not. I need not repeat the history of the strike, as it will doubtless already be known. I will mention some of the salient points round which, it seems to me, the problem revolved. The strike was called by the Federation of Motion Picture Crafts for union recognition and affected about 6000 workers. The trades involved were the painters, make-up artists and hair-dressers, scenic artists and draughtsmen. One or two others, such as the culinary workers and precisi< >n machinists, joined for a short time later. It so happened that, at this time, a large number of the major studios were commencing shooting some of their biggest ami most important pictures. Most of the important work of the striking crafts was completed before the strike, so, with the exception of make-up, shooting was able to proceed. The make-up and hair-dressing difficulties were solved in most cases by making the artists do themselves, though there were a few still at work. So the problem was how long could the studios shoot without these essential crafts ? As long as there were no major set changes involving a »ns1 1 net ion. This might be anything from three days to six weeks in the of "Dead End," which is almost entirely on one set. On the other hand, how long could the strikers hold ou1 ? It is impossible to surmise how long this would have been, for further complications developed later, which cut short this waiting and, in my opinion, considerably altered the final results. As to the position of the numerous unions involved, it was roughly as follows: — The International Alliance oi