Motography (Jul - Dec 1915)

790 MOTOGRAPHY Vol. XIV, No. 16. When barely sixteen years of age I told an eminent tragedian that I "knew Shakespeare." I do not know whether he believed me or not, but he gave me a job. I was so filled with the sublime ambition that I forgot to ask him the salary. I never did learn ! I was paid in irregular amounts — at irregular intervals. At that time a regular salary was a dangerous precedent to establish in the theatrical business. Little as I got in ready money, I have much to thank him for. It was a marvelous school of experience and, besides, he always somehow managed to pay the hotel bill and I never had to walk the ties. A like period was spent in the romantic school with Frank Mayo — afterwards followed seasons with traveling combinations under the management of A. M. Palmer, Shook and Collier, and Tom Crossen. With perhaps the exception of three seasons, I directed productions for fifteen years before entering the picture field. This includes directing in stock theaters in New York, Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Indianapolis, Kansas City, Denver and Seattle. About seven years ago a film man with sublime courage offered me a position as producer of western pictures on a great Oklahoma ranch. There were to be huge droves of cattle and multitudes of cowboys and Indians — in fact, all the figures in the proposition ran way up in the thousands — I declined ! It seemed to me that nothing less than a major general was required for the outfit and my military training had been sadly neglected. Though I refused the offer the deadly photoplay germ had done its fell work — a week later I was busy making my first picture for the ''Columbia," one of the pioneer independent companies. Later I produced and released pictures for the National Film Company, afterwards joining the forces of Pathe Freres. I was with Pathe for several years and joined Essanay when Pathe ceased producing on account of the present war. Seventy-five per cent of my work in producing spectacular multiple reel features is summed up in the one word '"preparation." The theme of the story is studied from every possible angle and discussed with the author scene by scene, often being rewritten several times as weak spots are discovered. The scenario is like an architect's design. The plans upon which we build our structure are not arbitrary but always subject to any changes that suggest themselves as an improvement. They must be free from inconsistencies and absurdities, all in all a story of real life with natural action. It must be picturized truth — it must be believable, told with as few subtitles as possible, and understandable by people of all nationalities. Following the completion of the scenario comes the selection of the exteriors — the planning of the interiors— the costuming of the characters. Carpenters, scenic artists, property men, electricians and costumers are called into consultation. I explain thoroughly the requirements of the story. I seek of them an expression of their own ideas ; we work together; for I need team work in the mechanical department, and their team work goes far indeed towards making a picture a success. I do not look upon them as mere stage hands — they are a staff of competent assistants with valuable ideas that I want in the structure of my picture. My camera must have its opportunities. The camera man is generally looked upon as a more or less reliable individual, who can thread film in a box, focus a lens and turn a little crank a certain number of times a minute. I expect considerably more, he must be an artist with grey matter that can be used in producing beautiful photographic effects. The last thing in the preparation is the selection of the cast of competent artists to enact the different roles. I take great care that they are competent and I expect them to use brains in their characterization — in doing so I allow every freedom of thought possible. I want natural action, free from theatrics. I inflict upon them no unnatural gestures. If they are to love or hate, storm or rage, laugh or cry — I want them to do it as they would when confronting similar situations in their own lives. Together we analyze the story scene by scene — every point is thoroughly explained to them. Finally, when everything is under way — while waiting for the first day of production — I mentally plan every scene over and over in perhaps several different ways. Thus I reach a decision as to the most effective presentation and do not have to experiment with my people when taking scenes on the studio floor. From start to finish it is team work — every artist or mechanic contributing brains for the success of the picture. If one fails, that one is courteously removed and another selected. I am neither temperamental nor a megaphone soloist. I want every one comfortable around me, the least possible friction and the spirit of good fellowship and again — team work! Extra people are handled in the same way. They are made to understand what they represent, why they are gathered together and what they are to do. The hundreds of extras used in my recent production, "In the Palace of the King," understood thoroughly their part of the story, and each one was made to feel that he or she was individually as important as any other person in the production. They were not brought into scenes like droves of cattle. When they cheered the leading man they knew why they cheered, they thoroughly understood and became part and parcel of that team work which makes the picture the successful production that it is. In my work with Essanay there has been another important factor that makes great pictures — the cooperation of the company and its executive heads. George K. Spoor, the president of the company, and