The film daily year book of motion pictures (1932)

ing back this season has been due to two fundamental factors: (1) Frantic search for anything containing promise of box-office stimulation to boost attendances that have been reduced by general depression. (2) Acute shortage of outstanding film product, partly caused by greater consumption due to double-featuring, thereby driving some exhibitors to add vaudeville. For years a small but loud minority, mostly moss-covered old timers who can't or won't get in step with the parade, has been shouting that vaudeville must and will come back because shadows cannot take the place of flesh. This type of prapaganda always makes good headline stuff, but it is a glaring example of the blind theorizing that is punctured by the slightest prick of the factual pin. In the first place, the statement that the public prefers flesh to shadows, sounds impressive on the surface, but for practical purposes it requires a good deal of qualification. The public doesn't just want flesh. It wants talent — popular stars — entertainment. Creta Garbo in the shadow will pack 'em to the rafters while a whole boatload of nobodies in the flesh won't attract enough customers to keep the ushers awake. To make vaudeville draw patrons, the bills must contain names and talent of better than ordinary caliber — names that the public wants to see. But there are not enough performers of this class to go around. That is why nowadays you find the popular headliners playing successively the Palace, Loew's State, the Hippodrome and other Times Square houses using stage acts, all within a week or two of each other. This is something that never was tolerated in the heyday of vaudeville, for the simple reason that it is fundamentally contrary to competitive operation. Another thing, and partly as a result of the disorganized booking system, the leading headliners refuse to troupe beyond the metropolitan centers, while the small-timers are of no help to a theater in competing with even an ordinary screen feature. In a downright test, if an amusement seeker must choose between a theater offering a variety bill of unknown performers and a house presenting a similarly uninviting picture, the chances are that most folks will stay home and listen to Amos 'n Andy. Taking also into account the exorbitant requirements of stage hands and musicians, you have here three of the principal concrete facts — not theories — why vaudeville is unprofitable for the theater at large — regardless of its success in strategically located circuit houses. And there is other evidence around for those with the eyes to see it. For instance, the Palace, with no competition as a straight vaudeville house, must scramble for big names at $8,000 and $5,000 a week in order to get the business. A few blocks away from the Palace, the Hippodrome offers eight acts and a feature picture, plus incidentals, at much lower prices. When the house has a strong screen attraction, it does good business regardless of the quality of the vaudeville bill. But when the picture is poor, even an unusual stage bill doesn't bring the same attendance. The same goes for Loew's State on Broadway, and, except for the infrequent occasions when there is an extraordinary name act on the stage, the principle applies at large. What this proves is that the public is, first of all, name conscious — the designation "name" obviously implying talent. Also, it is far more movie conscious than flesh conscious. A very big part of the present generation of showgoers never saw any vaudeville, so they can't be craving something that is unknown to them. Perhaps it is perfectly true that the public of today would go for the right kind of stage bills in a manner profitable to the theaters. Of course, experience of the past few seasons does not prove this to be a fact. Quite the opposite. But it may just be that those responsible went at it in the wrong way. It seems that the vaudeville sponsors acted 99 per cent on that blind premise about the public preferring flesh to shadow, instead of analyzing the more important surrounding details. All protestations notwithstanding, there can be no widespread revival of stage shows until a method is devised whereby a steady supply of name personalities with stage talent can be made available. That the public will flock to see names is amply demonstrated by the personal appearances of Bing Crosby, Kate Smith, William Haines, Alice White, joe E. Brown, Edward C. Robinson, and others who first scored on the screen or over the radio. Vaudeville, as an institution by itself, is dead, because in the case of most new talent it takes the screen or the radio to make 'em into the requisite b. o. pullers. As a build-up medium, the stage is too slow. Therefore, future prospects of vaudeville and presentations are largely dependent upon close cooperation with screen and radio. EXPLOITATION By JACK HARROWER The period of economic stress has forced showmen more and more to the realization that extensive exploitation methods are necessary to overcome public inertia, and get the crowds into the theater. Competition is keener than ever. The exhibitor who goes out after patronage vyith an intelligent publicity campaign will have the edge as always on his competitor who simply trusts to the routine publicity to get over. Because of the great increase in percentage 103