The educational screen (c1922-c1956])

344 The Educational Screen The Theatrical Field Conducted by Marguerite Orndorff A Picture in the Making AT the Lasky Studio they were making "The Spanish Dancer," and it was my privilege one morning to watch the work. The publicity man kindly offered to "park" me on the set, and left me with authority, in case I was disturbed or threatened with ejection, to say I was deposited there by him. But nobody even noticed me; everybody was too busy attending to his own affairs. Even the pianist and the violinist, behind whom I had taken shelter so as to be sure of avoiding the camera's eye, had no time for more than an occasional friendly grin. The set was a castle interior of impressive plainness, with a curving stairway in the background, and in the foreground, a banquet table, its cover of crimson velvet and cloth of gold billowing to the floor. Behind it in the middle rose a tall, carved chair — the host's seat, no doubt — and on either side of it ranged stools for the guests. Golden dishes of curious design held real food, among them a Spanish galleon in full sail, and a four-wheeled coach with galloping horses. A bustling "Props" at a side table was buried in mountains of oranges, apples, melons, cakes, and mounds o£ some delicious looking pink stuff, all of which he carried tenderly to the banquet board and covered first with oiled paper and next with napkins. A majestic roast pig lay on a golden platter — no make-believe pig, either, for afterward I heard a hungry extra describing him to friends most eloquently as they lined up at the corner cafeteria at noon. Mounted on scaffoldings along the sideHnes stood half a dozen of the big searchlights called "sun arcs," supplemented by rows of Klieg lights and small "spots." Each was manned by an electrician. Assistants and technical experts occupied themselves with details of costuming and setting, and in the midst of everything, walked the director, Herbert Brennon, immaculate in white flannels and a woolly white sweater — it was chilly on the barn-like, covered stage. Nobody paid any attention to him apparently, and he seemed to move in a world of his own imagining. He was going through the action of his scene minutely and, it was evident, intensely. In a detached sort of way he blew a whistle that hung around his neck: piano and violin thumped into a march. In time with the music, Brennon paced from the doorway to a point just in front of the table, drew an imaginary sword, clicked his heels, and saluted. Then he went on briskly, around the table to the great chair. He stood before it a moment, then raised a goblet in a toast, bowed to unseen guests, and seated himself with a grand air. Toot-toot! The music stopped, and the director gazed off into space. He went back to the doorway and paced off the distance to the table, thought a moment, called for "Harold" and gave an order. "Harold" shouted for "Props;" "Props" shouted for "a couple of hands here;" and in a jiffy the gaudy covering was swept clear of the floor while a dozen men were carefully lifting the table to a different position, the director helping. Toot! Music again, and Brennon went through this action once more, this time apparently to his own satisfaction. The sound of the whistle cut off the music. "Now where are my six serving men?" In answer appeared six men in blue costumes with flowing sleeves. They wore bobbed black wigs and stiff pink collars, and each individual part of each one's costume was its own particular shade of blue. The total effect might have been slightly bewildering to the conventional-minded outsider, but was not, to the camerawise; for some colors photograph white, and as for the ensemble of the costumes, they could just as well have been rainbow-hued provided their photographic values were correct. After careful inspection of each actor, the director instructed them in their "business," and gave them their cues, and herded them into a convenient corner to wait till he needed them. Then he turned his attention to the guards. ("All guards on the set," roared Harold.) Halberds for these two, swords for those two, and — "Oh Harold, this will never do! These swords are of different lengths. They look very bad." A speedy exchange of weapons, and the guards were stationed at decorative intervals along the stairway. Next came a detailed rehearsal with Gareth