Hollywood Spectator (Apr-May 1939)

7 hU Hcllifuccct MANY REMAKES ARE SCHEDULED WICE told tales — and some thrice told ones — will abound in the filmic output of the 1940-41 season. The past season has seen an increase of these remakes, some exploited as such and others released with new titles and trimmings, but during coming months the picture patron forgetful of his titles — or deluded by new ones — will be scratching his head even more frequently than heretofore, trying to recall just when and where he has previously encountered characters and situations. Among the stories announced for production are Mark of Zorro, The Way of All Flesh, The Desert Song, Dulcy, The Patent Leather Kid, Down to the Sea In Ships, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and there are a legion of others. A few of these stories, especially those done in the silent picture era, are not only strong fiction, but possess possibilities for further development sufficient to warrant their again being brought to the screen. The musical pieces will at least afford some tuneful vocalizing and perhaps a bit of dancing. By and large, however, there is no justification or excuse for the rehashing of these stories. Most of the yarns have either already been done as well as they can be or, ordinary fictional stuff to begin with, have been worn threadbare by repetitions in motion pictures, dramatic stock, and radio. It Seems But Yesterday <1 Who under heaven, for instance, wants to see Dulcy again ? Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, though a fine story, was given such an outstanding production, and this such a short time ago, that the memory of it must be vivid in the minds of all who saw it. Personally, I can recall individual scenes between Fredric March and Miriam Hopkins. What these remakes do is to convert the screen from a creative and imaginative medium into a sort of stock company. The mass of these stories will only further disappoint or weary the public. They have an insidiously bad effect on picture-goers, too, in that they convey the impression that the film industry is reaching the end of its rope, so to speak, as far as having anything new to say is concerned. Which, of course, is far from the truth. That a dearth of story material exists, however, is apparently the firm belief of some film executives. Economy could not be a real motive behind the deluge of remakes. Original material could be bought for what will be paid to screen writers for revamping most of the scripts with new dialogue and situations. The story as a rule is a com paratively small part of production cost, anyway. There Is No Story Shortage What is really lacking is not potential story material but the discernment to see the potentiality of material available. Both studio reading departments and the executives need to reorder and clarify the standards by which they judge the suitability of stories. Few of the outstanding successes of recent years which were adapted from plays or novels would have gotten past the first reader as an original script. Would Grapes of Wrath ? Or Gone With the Wind ? Or Stage Door l These stories were filmed only because the public had already evinced a strong interest in them. But a wide range of suitable screen material not the current rage is available. Aside from original scripts, the writing of which has never been fostered by the studios as it should have been, there are overlooked possibilities among the classics, as well as among current novels and short stories. Moreover, there is a wealth of material reposing in dusty drawers at the studios, scripts from the earlier silent picture days. Off hand I can call to mind four obscure stories from the period of the early twenties that would make capital talking pictures. A recital of them will be forthcoming upon receipt of a penny postcard. * * * WANTED— A "BEEG" WOMAN GEORGE O’BRIEN, back from a 25,000-mile tour of South America via airplane, reports the Latins find our screen heroines insufficient, not in histrionic talent, mind you, but in bulk. As quoted in the New York Times the actor says, “The natives scorn Hollywood women as too frail. It’s having a real effect in increasing the popularity of Argentine-made pictures, which are replacing the Hollywood product. An exhibitor in La Paz, Bolivia, said sneeringly but earnestly about the feminine lead in one of my recent films: ‘You are a beeg man, Meester O’Brien. You need a beeg woman.’ * * =!= DALTONS WILL RIDE AGAIN COME May, the Universal people will start their cameras grinding on When the Daltons Rode, which, of course, will be an enactment of that dramatic raid of the daring Dalton gang on the financial reserves of Coffeyville, Kansas, the five men holding up two banks at once. The picturization will be of particular interest to me, not only because the account of the exciting raid was al BY BERT HARLEN ternated with Mother Goose and Little Red Riding Hood — at my own insistence, I must admit — when a youngster, but also because it was in Coffeyville that this Harlen person first saw the light of day. The tale has now become a legend in those parts, one which survives with especial vividness in my family, since nearly all of them, in one way or another, were involved in the event. Mater, then a child, saw the outlaws riding into town, five abreast, at an unhurried, steady trot. In the great gun fracas ^hat ensued — the town had been warned that the notorious Daltons were coming and was prepared for them — grandfather saw the man beside him keel over, and, loosing his head, ran into a livery stable and hid his watch in a stack of hay. Two aunts, out buggy riding, heard the Daltons were in town and, for protection, followed a man ahead of them on horseback. The man was the wounded Emmett, only one of the three brothers to escape with his life. Later the family en masse saw the other men stretched out with their boots off, grandfather possibly thinking that the spectacle would be an object lesson. Emmett, incidentally, then only 19, not only reformed but became something of a reformer. It is on his autobiography that the Universal film will be based. * * * AN ITEM ON ODORS ON HIS amusing radio program Ho Hum, during which he reads items from his “snoozepaper,” George Applegate informed us the other evening that an inventor in Europe has perfected a device that adds the stimulus of scent to screen fare. If a garden scene is pictured, the spectator is favored with the fragrant aroma of flowers. If the locale is a hospital, the drama is heightened by the pungency of ether. But really, Mr. Applegate, was that crack very nice about many pictures not needing the gentleman’s scent invention? '&■ Kansas City audiences have got out of hand in their revolt against boresome “supporting’’ features. It has become a fad to mock and jeer throughout their running. Villains are uproariously applauded, the more mirthful-minded spectators arise and shout quips at the performers. More fun — except for the exhibitor. ir Spectator advertising attracts a maximum of attention from people who really count. Its pages are read, not merely skimmed. Its readers comprise the most constructive minds in the industry. MAY 1, 1940 PAGE ELEVEN