The Motion Picture Studio Insider (1935)

26 Motion Picture Studio Insider June, 1 93 5" FILM PROPERTIES Strange Disarray Proves Orderly In Checkup of Columbia s Prop Room By FANYA GRAHAM TUCKED away on the back lot of Columbia Studios, far away from temperamental actors, harassed executives, and concentrating scenarists, is the property department. A studio visitor, peering into the bar' racksdike structure, is told that this is where the props come from • — “you know, all the things that are used in the picture!” To the average layman, the long shelves loaded with miscellany seem cluttered and untidy. The carefully stacked furniture seems to be in an amazing dis¬ array. The hard-working, hurrying men, in shirt-sleeves and slacks, resemble bees buying about a hive. Yet this huge room, with its gate opening onto a side street, its half-dozen hand carts,, its ringing telephones and corner offices, is a pivot of the motion picture industry. The studio guide speaks truly when he says that everything that is used in a picture hearkens from this place. To be even more accurate, however, he should make two exceptions — the actors themselves and the clothes they wear! The players enter through the front lobby, their wardrobes are concocted in a workroom off in another corner of the studio lot. Every piece of furniture you see on the screen in a Columbia picture first makes its studio debut on the floor of the property room. There it is examined to make sure it is what the director and the set-dresser ordered. From there it goes to the designated set, where it is put into place by the swing-gang, who work out of the property department. And there it remains, for an hour or for a month, until the sequence for which it was specified is finished. Back to the property-room it comes. Once again it is examined to make sure it is in perfect condition and then back it goes to the place from which it was rented, or, if it was purchased, it is stacked away for future use. David Milton However, Columbia, more than any of the major studios, makes a point of renting rather than purchasing its props. One reason for this is the lack of avail¬ able storage room. But the real reason is that renting bric-a-brac and furniture especially for each production results in more modern and up-to-the-minute sets. Objects aren’t used just because they’re around or because the original invest¬ ment must be justified. Directors specify their needs and the property department fills the bill. No matter what’s wanted, the answer invariably is, “Sure! When do you want it?” Headed by David Milton, an alert young man with an unruffled d;sposition and a jovial sense of humor, the Columbia property department consists of a regular staff of twenty men. These employees, several of whom have been at the studio since its inception, are always kept busy. But when more productions than usual are in work or in preparation, the personnel doubles in size. The head prop-man on each picture is technically under the supervision of Sam Nelson, production manager, but for all practical purposes, his home-ground is the property room itself, for it’s there he lists his needs, it’s there he replen¬ ishes his overflowing prop-box, and it’s there he gets his message and punches his time-clock. To the property department comes one of the first copies of a shooting script. Another copy has already found its way to Stephen Goosson, Columbia’s art director-in-chief, who supervises such varied aspects of picture making as the carpenter shop, the drafting room, the mill, the electrical laboratory, and the property department. Goosson and his aides line up the sets, order them built, and then Ted Dickson, head set-dresser goes to work. It’s his personal job to see that all sets are authentic and ef¬ fective. He visits any or all of the twen¬ ty property houses in Hollywood which cater exclusively to the studios. He picks out everything needed for the picture, from a lamp to a latchkey. Then he re¬ ports back to Milton, who arranges with the transportation department to have it picked up and delivered to the proproom. And it’s Dickson and his assistants who make chalk-marks on the set itself, indicating just where each piece of fur¬ niture or bric-a-brac is to be set down. Once the objects have been checked through the prop-room, then the swinggang puts them into place, doing such miscellaneous things as making beds, set¬ ting tables, arranging flowers, filling bookcases and hanging mirrors and pic¬ tures. But if the object “works” in the pic¬ ture — that is, if an actor uses it in front of the camera — the head prop-man as¬ signed to each picture takes personal charge. Let us illustrate with an in¬ stance in “Love Me Forever”, the Grace Moore starring picture for Columbia. If Miss Moore merely sits at her dressing