The educational screen (c1922-c1956])

December, igss The Theatrical Field 493 camera man plays with his lights as a painter plays with color, or a poet with words. There are, of course, certain fundamental principles of lighting that must be observed — lighting from the back ("back-lighting" it's called) to avoid emphasizing wrinkles, and the use of a spotlight to make the figure of the actor stand out from his background — but beyond that lighting is a matter of the individual camera man's feeling for it, and — again — his dramatic sense. I saw an interesting demonstration of this in one of the studios. A certain scene had been shot, and one was to follow in which the principal actor was different from the first, and a totally different type. There was no change in the set, not even in the position of the camera. "Come here a minute," said the director to the actor. "Blank — " naming the director " — wants to light you up." So the actor stood for perhaps ten or fifteen minutes while the lights were arranged and rearranged to bring out his particular personality, and to reflect the mood of the scene, which was a highly dramatic one. At this point in the discussion, I wanted to know how much the electrician has to do with the arrangement of lights. Not much, I was told, after he has set up the lights he knows will be needed. The electrician who is valuable to his organization, of course, is the electrician who knows what the camera man wants, and can anticipate his requests, just as the latter knows what the director wants. But the electrician rarely does more than "light up the set" in a purely mechanical way, after which the camera man makes what changes and modifications he thinks necessary. Then there is color. Does the camera man, I asked, have any voice in the selection of color schemes for sets? Again the answer was no. Monotones — that is, certain shades of gray ranging between black and white — are best photographically, and the camera man would like to have the technical director keep his color tones within that scale. It would save trouble and mistakes, for there is no question about how a certain shade of gray is going to photograph: it will be that particular shade of gray and no other. With colors outside that range, there is always some uncertainty, and the possibility of disappointments and "retakes." Although the camera man knows the photographic value of colors to a large extent, there is often a surprise in store for him when an odd or unusual shade is used. So he makes a plea for the monotones. But in this department he bumps up against one of the shibboleths of the movies — realism. The technical director plans the coloring of his sets from that standpoint. His argument is, "We want it to look like the real thing. We want the actors to behave as they would under actual conditions and surroundings. Therefore we must make their surroundings as nearly like the actual ones as we can." And he does it. Being a camera man, then, is more than knowing how to thread film into a camera, how fast or how slow to grind, or any other of the hundred bits of mechanical knowledge he must possess. It means, primarily, to be able to visualize a story from a dramatic standpoint, and then to photograph it in such a way that the spirit of the story and the emotions of its characters are passed on to the spectator without his consciousness of the mechanical means employed. In other words, the effect of photography at its best must be a subconscious effect. Now that is a difficult thing to do — so difficult, indeed, that as yet the motion picture in general has not attained it. It has not yet reached the stage where we can carry away from a theater only the dramatic idea the picture conveyed, without having been directly conscious of lighting, photography, composition, titles, acting, and the many other essential factors. The drama is the chief thing, and all else must be subordinated to it. When a photographer strives for a beautiful effect so that you are impelled to exclaim, "What a beautiful picture!" he has forgotten the thing he was after in the first place. "Clickety-clickety-clickety" concludes the camera, and the scene is shot. Production Notes for December ANNOUNCEMENTS FROM THE GOLDWYN STUDIO include the selection of George Walsh to play the coveted role of Ben Hur. The fact that Goldwyn is seriously produc ing, Nellie, the Beautiful Cloak Model, with such players as Claire Windsor, Lew Cody, Hobart Bosworth, and Mae Busch, suggests the rather horrifying possibility of our having to view all the rest of those stories in the near future. So much for "bigger and better" pictures.