Motion Picture Magazine (Feb-Jul 1920)

««SIURP) Mind the Little Things itinucd from page 94) "Browning's Poems" whisper to a beautiful copy of "Jeanne D'Arc." And Jeanie herself was clad in a faultlessly tailored pale blue linen frock, with the daintiest of net undersleeves and neck-ruffle. She had tossed the big white picture hat of organdy on the already crowded desk when she came in. She is ultra-feminine, even down to the immaculate little white slippers. Her hair parts on one side and falls into soft waves which are absolutely natural — the sort of curly hair one saw years ago — like molasses candy — always shiny — brilliant with life and marcelled by Mine. Nature. I had asked her if she'd rather originate than adapt a novel to the screen — one felt this girl was something of an authority. "Frankly." she replied, "1 would rather originate. Authors naturally find it difficult to realize that we do not slice into their stories in order to find what we can take out — that is a misunderstanding, but one always cherishes one's brain-child. 1 do and you do. But in trying to preserve that which is good in their work we must tell in picture symbols what is taking place. We have to put over some motive or idea — we must utilize an entirely different set oi tools. In order to save the main situation we are sometimes obliged to work out a new play. "When I did 'The Trail of the Lonesome Pine.' John Fox said, "Good Lord, there's nothing left in it but the pine !' And witty Eugene Walter retorted, 'You're wrong, it's a Redwood!' If author attempted to put their own books into continuity they would discover just what difficulties we encounter." "Just how do you work out the theme?" "Always I get some idea," she answered, "perhaps just a small idea. Then I let the situation tell me about the characters. Characters will come and talk to you. It you want them to do a certain thing they will sit right up there on your desk and yelp at you and say. 'Entirely illogical, know I'd never do that!' Day by day they take on new freshness, and finally at the end they are actually human beings. I cant tell them what to do — they tell me what they arc going to d >. "I write a very detailed continuity." she told me. "That's why Mr. de Mille can work so fast. Nobody has to stand around waiting. I have written in every gesture, every emotion. Of course, some directors ' have that — they want the barest suggestions in their script and that is why many stories are haphazard — the director just cant remember the continuity of the and the characterizations at the same time. "And one cant drive the brain, either. " she continued ; "one must take time for recreation, but not too much time." "Your recreation ?" I asked. "Flying." she told me. "I would sav rally, learn to fly! The analogv between flying and flights of fancy is obvious. You may give people rules about flying, let them collect a library on the subject, but ultimately— to fly well, you have to discard teachers, book's and tlieo:nd just fly." She was talking in riddles, and yet when you learn that she does actually fly, you unde De Mille Field her •-"hip about, exciting Hollywood citi, She has her license now. polishes up her machine, tightens it. loves it— with i' is just like a little girl with her doll. And it is not a far-fetched comparison that ... of Jeanie MacPherson to a little girl.