The Film Spectator (Mar-Dec 1928)

May 12, 1928 THE FILM SPECTATOR EVERY OTHER SATURDAY Published by FILM SPECTATOR, INCORPORATED Welford Beaton, President and Editor Editorial Office : 7213 Sunset Boulevaed HEmpstead 2801 iH . Advertising and Circulation Departments : 411 Palmer Building Gladstone 5506 Subscription price, $5.00 per year; foreign, $6.00. Single copy, 20 cents. He that wrestles zmth us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill. — Burke. HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA, MAY 12, 1928 Screen Art Has Worn a Groove for Itself PERUSAL of an accumulation of film trade papers published in this country and abroad, reveals that exhibitors are of the opinion that motion pictures are getting worse, and that the pictures they are getting this year are not up to the quality that Hollywood sent out last year. Exhibitors reflect the opinions of their patrons, consequently we can credit the public with being convinced that screen entertainment has struck a downward curve. But I don't agree with either the exhibitors or the public. Pictures are not getting worse. For the purpose of this discussion we will consider only the program pictures that must carry on their backs the financial burden of the industry. A Seventh Heaven or a Trail of '98 proves nothing, and a study of it will avail us nothing until all pictures are Seventh Heavens. And the exhibitors have no quarrel with the quality of the road shows. They insist that the program picture is getting worse, but I am convinced that it is getting better. What it is failing to do is to keep abreast of the public. Audiences are advancing faster than screen entertainment. The public's view of the situation does its modesty more credit than its discernment. Apparently everything that the screen can do has been done so often that the public refuses to be intrigued by it any longer. This seemingly would entail upon Hollywood the necessity of doing things differently if it hopes to hold its audience. But can Hollywood do things differently? I doubt it. Directors have told me that they approve heartily of my arguments against the abuse of close-ups — and the next pictures made by these same directors abuse them as much as ever. Screen art has worn a groove for itself, and it is the groove, not the art itself, that the public has tired of. Reverting to close-ups: let us assume that all arguments against them are wrong, that it is good technic to use as many of them as possible, and that even love scenes should be divided into individual shots. To-day most pictures treat close-ups in accordance with this assumption — and THE FILM SPECTATOR Page Three the public is getting tired of most pictures. All any jaded appetite needs is a change. Why not provide a change of screen diet by making a picture or two with but few closeups ? Why not use close-ups in at least one program picture only where they are justified? That might provide the public with the variety it craves. Two pictures I have seen recently use close-ups intelligently. The Patriot, directed by Ernst Lubitsch, and Laugh, Clown, Laugh, directed by Herbert Brenon. But we have only a few Lubitsches and Brenons. Most of the other directors know only one method of directing. They follow the long shotmedium shot-close-up formula. They have standardized the making of motion pictures and have imposed on them an exceedingly stupid standard that the public will accept no longer. By our method of selecting our new directors THE WALL By GEORGE F. MAGOFFIN Dear Mr. Beaton: Substitute the box-office for the wall and you have a parallel between the garden and motion pictures. Both are the expression of somebody's ideas; both make an impression upon the beholder. There can be no denying that the garden with its barbered shrubs and velvety lawn is beautiful, but it is beauty for the eye alone; comprehended at a glance we seek more intriguing vistas. It is a fashionable woman, fresh from the ministrations of the beauty doctors, to whom God has neglected to give a soul. Its conventional perfection is a sinister wall to the imagination; it is a "keep off the grass" sign that precludes all intimate association. Naiads do not disport in a concrete pool, nor do dryads peep from cubical hedges. If pictures would not strive for such absolute veracity in detail; if shadows could be substituted for spot-lights each individual mind would be free to revel in a garden of its own imaginings. Says the grave Melandryon: "Tales ought never be told out in full daylight. Once the shadows have entered somewhat, one no longer listens to fabulous voices because the fugitive spirit fixes and ravishingly speaks to itself." — G. F. M. Over the wall my fancy sped. Wondering what lay behind. Shadowy paths and tangled furz, Roses that shyly smiled. Sunlight that trickled like laughter through branches that moved so gently you scarce were aware that they moved at all. And the intricate pattern they wove and wound with undulant grace o'er the leafy ground enhanced the glamour a thousand fold. It were pleasant to dream in a place like this by that shadowy pool which a naiad's kiss had endowed with age-old mystery. To lie at length on the leafy mold behind that friendly wall and invite your soul. * * * Boldly I looked o'er the garden wall. Putting my dream behind, Then returned with a sigh to the noisome street: Ah, the trend of the vulgar mind! Close-cropped hedges and barbered grass, Plants that stood in a row, A pool that reflected a sun of brass. The wall was sinister. "Thou shalt not pass!" It seemed to growl. Insensate lout! "Far better," I thought, "to be without."