The Motion Picture Studio (1922)

September 16, 1922 THE MOTION PICTURE STUDIO NEW SERIES ON OUR BLACK LIST No, V.— Inconsiderate Firms. Thanks to a perverted law of libel, the effect of which is to safe¬ guard the wrongdoer and penalise the journal which is courageous enough to expose him, we are precluded from mentioning the names of the persons in the Film Industry whom we are exposing in this series of articles. We have, however, the full facts, including the name of the person, relating to these exposures. Our object in writing them is to make known to the wrongdoer the fact that we are fully aware of his — or her — activities which will receive fuller publicity if this initial and partial exposure does not cause an alteration for the better. Readers who may know of other such cases are asked to communicate with us — their letters will be treated in strictest confidence and no names mentioned. than journalistic I cannot say that it is a flawless film. But it is, at least, the only film that has ever been made for a self-less object. And that should count one in an “ . cast their shadows before ”--E\a Moore’s open hand to the buyers industry where the first personal pronoun is the only letter in the alphabet and should carry weight in a land fit for heroes— and no one else — to live in. _ _ SCREEN .VALUES ‘SAT The silhouette effects are very good, and the photography in the scene where, Black Bess dies makes this particular incident. ‘ Tell Your Children ” International Artists — Directed by Donald Crisp — Starring Walter Tennyson and Doris Eaton — Supported by Cecil Mor¬ ton' Yorke, Gertrude McCoy, Harding Steerman, Adeline Hayden Coffin, War¬ wick Warde, Tony Fraser, Robert Eng¬ lish, Margaret Halstan, Mary Rorke, C. Tilson-Chowne, Alec Alexander, junr., and Tom Coventry — Scenario by Donald Crisp and Leslie Gordon. UPERBLY acted and 'directed, whatever time, trouble or expense that has been expended on “Tell Your Children ” has not been spent in vain, for it is a production of great technical excellence, and Donald Crisp is to be congratulated on his clever handling %f the subject. Two newcomers to the British screen are Doris Eaton and Walter Tennyson, both of whom make their debut in this film. Doris Eaton has an attractive screen per¬ sonality, which will do much to make her very popular on the English screen. Walter Tennyson is excellent in this par¬ ticular role, and so long as he sticks to this type of part should make a big success in pictures. Gertrude McCoy has little to do, but, needless to state, does that little well. Mary Rorke is extremely good as Susan Haslar. Warwick Warde makes a very fine heavy. Cecil Morton York’s performance as the farmer is excellent. Adeline Hayden Coffin gives a sympa¬ thetic rendering of the role of the old nurse. Margaret Halstan. as Lady Edwards, is quite equal to all the demands of the part. Fine performances are given by Tony Eraser, Robert English, Alec Alexander, iunr., C. Tilson-Chowne, Tom Coventry, the girl who appears in the Egyptian dancehall and the child who takes the role of Rosny’s son. The scenario has been well written, and the continuity flows smoothly. The Trade show print of this subject was not very good, but the photography is consistently excellent without possessing any outstanding effects. ERIODICALLY there arises in the Press a wail from film directors and other important gentlemen to the effect that there is a dearth of good stories for the screen. One such outcry has attracted recently more than its meed of attention. It is quite true there is a real shortage, and British films are suffering in conse¬ quence. But it is a habit of such gentle¬ men to blame the novelists, to blame the scenarists, to lay the blame on anybody and everybody, except their own film editors and themselves. There are firms such as Hepworth, Gaumont, and Blackton, where the scenarist receives the same good treat¬ ment that a novelist does with a first-class publisher. There are unfortunately too many -other hrms where this treatment is not met with — in fact, one scenarist after another is being driven into giving up work, and if this continues, what are British pictures going to do ? Professional screen writers of the first rank cannot be made in a day. If a play is submitted to a German firm it is read, and a decision reached in three days from the receipt of the MSS., and an answer is immediately despatched to the author. If the same MSS. is sent to a British firm three months may elapse, or even six, before a decision is arrived at, though time is often money in the sale of a film. In one case, when the firm reached the epoch-making decision to fix on the play for its next production, and communi¬ cated to the author the news that his film suited them, they later sent the play back, without either apology or compensation, to the unhappy scenarist who was rash enough to take the firm’s word as their bond. In some cases the firm loses the stamps for return, and will not forward the author his property until further stamps have been sent. In other cases the MSS. are alleged to have been “lost.” This carelessness will continue until profes¬ sional scenarists combine together to force firms to pay compensation equal to the cost of typing out a fresh script, every time a professional scenarist’s play is lost. An example from German} has just been quoted, but all producing firms do not work with the same promptitude. To take an example : — A firm in sudden need interviewed a scenarist about two scripts, heard the i stories, practically accepted them on the spot, settled the price, and the firm agreed to let the author know within a week in the unlikely event of the plays proving unsuitable. That was on June 1. Letters every month following remained unanswered, until one letter came to say that the MSS. were “lost,” and a following one to say that they had never been delivered to the firm at all, although they were given per¬ sonally to the director. On these contradictory letters, the author at once placed the matter in the hands of her solicitors, and the following year the plays were returned with no apology or compensation, and these were super films that represented more than six months’ work, and both could have been placed elsewhere. This condition of things will not be bettered until directors and others learn that the professional scenarists’ play is property, and the man or woman who detains it so that the owner misses a sale, or loses it without paying proper compen¬ sation should be liable to prosecution in exactly the same way as if the script was any other form of property. Presumably, film magnates buy per¬ sonal goods like other men. If such a man orders half a dozen shirts to be sent him from his outfitters, and those shirts are lost, either permanently or for a period of some months, he will not expect the haberdasher to be content with a statement, “I can’t return your shirts. They didn’t suit me, but I’ve lost them, so I can’t send them back.” He knows the tradesman will expect money down for those lost shirts, and he will pay it. Will all those at the head of film firms put it out of their mind altogether, that the scenarist is an artist working for love of his art. He has got to be a com¬ mercial man these days— in other words, he must have the right to live. He offers goods for sale to the film firm in exactly the same spirit as the man who sells goods over a counter. The poorest scenarist in the world is a man of property. His plays are his Capital and his Labour. He has trot to have his property as well and honestlv treated as if he was in any other form of business. It is up to the Film Trade of this country to see to it that those firms which treat scenarists badly are brought to realise the harm they are causing. 13