The Cine Technician (1938-1939)

Nov. -Dec, 1938 THE CINE TECHNICIAN 121 measured the light with my W eston Foot Candle Meter so that the exposure was exactly the same as in England. But on the screen they were terrible, horribly dark. It was most embarrassing. One of those situations of which Bateman makes such amusing cartoons. I said nothing — "least said soonest mended." Neither did anyone else. There were so many possibilities. My meter might be broken — the Astro lens at f2.3 may be slower than indicated— the shutter on the camera might be closed a little — the light from these facet mirror lamps was definitely yellowish — the negative might not be dense enough for their printer — the projection light might be weak. We had been on exteriors all day, so I had not seen the lab. man and had heard nothing about the negative. As we were trooping out of the theatre, me very downcast, I noticed the screen. It was deep yellow from dust. Feeling rather like Archimedes must have done when he said "Eureka,"' or Columbus when he discovered America. I asked for the screen to be changed, and all was O.K. Now they talked, and made me Witch Doctor No. 1. Having got over this very stiff hurdle, we started to light the set. This was a very beautiful decoration, the interior of an "Orphan House" with a real marble floor which sounded very good and picked up the light in a fascinating manner. The art director, a Dutch architect called Wegerif. one of those men who have caused Holland to be called the " Mecca of modern architects," paid especial attention to the floors. We had marble floors, floors of tiles, floors of enormous geometric design, and wooden floors. In most of the Dutch paintings which I have seen, the floor plays a very prominent part in the design of the whole picture — subconsciously it may be dm' to the fact tbat the floor is the foundation of all visible parts and therefore must be the boldest and strongest. Their lamps gave me a lot of trouble. Black centres and leak light. Black centres I can deal with, but tliis leak light problem stumped me. The lichtmeester (charge hand) recommended the use of arfdrrkers. These are wooden squares which clip on the lamps and can be adjusted to a very fine degree — they are more efficient than the iron snoots which are used here. The working of the unit is not as in England. In the office was the producer, Rudolph Meyer, and two assistants. They did whatever they do in offices, and because everything w as ready and w ent like clockwork they must have been very good. All the production details came from the offices, which also organised the standingby of artistes. On the floor was the director. Mr. Zelnik; the script girl, Fran Klein ; the dialogue lady and general interpreter, Mevrouw Peters; myself; camera operator Frits; locus Prospair ; clappers Butter; still-man Hobby Kosenboom ; the sound crew, electricians under lichtmeester Killymeyer, and two carpenters, Hank and Art. We had no assistant directors on the floor and no props. Hank and Art acted as grips — moved things, laid tracks — pushed the runtruck and were generally useful. When essential props were needed or there was a rush the property master appeared and gave a hand. When Mr. Zelnik wanted quiet he shouted in German "Ruke Bitte," I said "Quiet please," and Hank bellowed "Stilte." Critroen, the sound mixer, sounded a diabolical klaxon horn and flashed red lamps. The result was that everyone was as though petrified, and stayed so until the klaxon brayed twice. Everyone obeyed the klaxon implicitly. SEE The new World Film News — may shock you, startle you, surprise you, amuse you — but it will never bore you. The toughest, brightest, most vital of all movie magazines, publishing the best film writing from both sides of the Atlantic One Shilling per copy . . . Monthly from all bookstalls