The Exhibitor (Nov 1944-May 1945)

BM-8 BETTER MANAGEMENT There'll Always Be Theatres on That ' Tight Little Isle" pressing a single viewpoint as that of estab¬ lished suburban circuit managers gener¬ ally. I have managed six suburban the¬ atres in the London area; but in my pre¬ sent job as national secretary of the Cine¬ ma Managers’ Association, I am in close touch with a great number of suburban managers, and, as a result, my view now tends to be more collective than individual in all matters pertaining to cinema man¬ agement. There’s another thing, too, that should be said at the start. London suburban managers are extremely unsettled at pre¬ sent. A considerable proportion of them have entered the business during the war period, and they are rather apprehensive of the future. They are wondering what is going to happen to them when the men whose places they took return from the Services. The older, well-established man¬ agers also are very unsettled; they think that post-war adjustment might mean transfers on a wholesale scale. The general uncertainty about the future is anything but conducive to planning for the post¬ war period in terms of the particular the¬ atres now being managed by the men con¬ cerned. Another factor that must be mentioned is that manpower has been a desperate problem here, and the ranks of authentic showmen have necessarily had to be di¬ luted with mere time-servers and job¬ holders. These men, who hold themselves aloof from the managers’ association in order to ingratiate themselves with the employers, nevertheless hope that the managers’ association will succeed in reg¬ ularizing the conditions of the profession to their advantage. They have their eyes on the key theatres, hoping that the active union men will eventually be squeezed out, after they have served their purpose in getting salaries increased and working hours shortened. This all adds up to a disturbing possi¬ bility that the first post-war prospect in management will be a general scramble for the better jobs; and in view of the thoughtful and experienced men, this prospect of anarchy and mutual throat¬ cutting will only be averted by the set¬ ting up of some kind of machinery for collective bargaining as between the em¬ ployers’ association and the managers’ association. There is a chance that this will be achieved soon, as the managers have taken their case to the Ministry of Labor; and, as the magnificent harnessing of the nation’s labor resources to the war effort has largely been a result of co¬ operation between the employers’ associ¬ ation and the trade unions, the Ministry will, it is thought, be found to favor the establishment of machinery for coopera¬ tion between the exhibitors and the man¬ agers. Such a step would obviously avert many of the evils that are latent in the present position of uncertainty and make for harmony and progress in the post-war period. Most of us here are not very well in¬ formed about the position of managers in the United States, but we have noted that, like the British and Australian managers, the American managers are thinking of getting themselves organized. That will be a step in the right direction; and if the attempt succeeds, the exhibitors will find it will be as much to their advantage as to the managers’. But ancient prejudices are usually discarded with great reluct¬ ance; and despite the fact that opposition to trade unionism is now nothing but an anachronism, the American exhibitors (especially the large circuits) will prob¬ ably resist the unionization of their man¬ agers. If they do, it will mean that one of the vital lessons of this war will have been lost upon them. A trend towards the world unionization of managers is as noticeable as the trend towards the form¬ ation of international cartels — indeed, the former to some extent springs from the latter — and the exhibitors would be wise to concede to their managers the right of trade-union organization and representa¬ tion without committing the industry to an internal struggle which would be as soci¬ ally dangerous as it would be useless. Political prospects apart, those British managers who (to use an expression of your own Jack London) are “blowed in the glass,” are looking forward with in¬ tense eagerness to the lifting of the dead weight of wartime restrictions. They are itching to get cracking again. Showman¬ ship in wartime has had to be a very makeshift affair. There have been all the INCENDIARY AND DEMOLITION BOMBS do their worst on Saint Georges Hall, as seen in this auditorium view from what used to be the balcony. It is scenes like these that make the optimistic hopes and plans of English theatremen stand in bolder relief. — Britiih-Combine THE EXHIBITOR Continued from page BM-7 emergency regulations, the blackout, the scarcity of material, the labor shortage, and — last, but not least— the bombs and the doodle bugs with which to contend. To put it in a nutshell, showmanship has been at a discount, and most of the the¬ atres are in a very sorry state. The man¬ agers have had as much as they could do to keep the places going, and, even if facilities for unlimited exploiteering has been available, it is doubtful if due ad¬ vantage could have been taken of them. One of the managers’ biggest wartime headaches has been the staff problem. Most of the theatres have, and still are, considerably understaffed; and the people available have been mostly unsuited. Apart from those members of the staff who were called up for the Services or di¬ rected into essential employment, many left the industry for better wages. I have even known a third operator deserting the projection room to take a job as an er¬ rand boy, at which job he could earn half as much again as he was getting in the box. That’s only one example of many I could give, and, generally speaking, the theatres have been staffed with people who were unemployable in any other capacity. The managers could have made up for the staff shortage and incompetence as best they could — most of us have had occasion¬ ally to post up bills, stoke furnaces, clean lavatories, repair seats, paint stair nosings, and take turns at issuing tickets, checking, and seating. It is only natural that man¬ agers are looking forward to the time when they can really be managers again, instead of the harassed odd-man-out that had to be in wartime. The problem of staff shortage and in¬ competence has been aggravated by phases of war neurosis on the part of cinema patrons. In spite of the fact that civilian morale has been high throughout the war — even during the worst of the blitzing from the air — there have been times when the public patience has been very sorely tried, and cinema managers have had to bear the brunt of short tempers induced by over-work, lack of sleep, and so on. In peacetime, managers were in their element when their houses were packed and big queues formed outside; but under the conditions of blackout and nervous irritability which have character¬ ized the war years, busy nights have mostly been things to be dreaded. If I were engaged in management today, one post-war project I would be welcoming above all others would be a return on the part of the public to their normal gen¬ iality and good humor. Those managers who are looking ahead are intrigued by the possibilities of post¬ war technical development. They realize that a young and virile industry, like the film business, cannot remain static. They realize that the war has produced stupen¬ dous technological advances, many of which will obviously be applied to peace¬ time industries when the shooting is over, and which may revolutionize the whole film business. The sound film as it is now known is probably nearing the limits of its technical development. Further im ( Continued on page BM-12) December 20, 1944