Movie Makers (Jan-Dec 1945)

142 APRIL 1945 The human side of spring [Continued from page 131] There will not be much question, this year at least, of the usual long trips of peace time. Whatever scenery comes in for filming will be within walking distance of the home. In the end, that limited range will prove a blessing, for one will be less tempted to shoot for mere composition, and it will be easier to introduce some member of the family into the action. Those amateurs particularly who have had considerable experience with still cameras need to be cautioned against assuming that they can make the same kind of pictures with a movie camera. Too often they are tempted to try panoramas and other undesirable movements of the instrument when they should reconsider from an entirely new point of view the opportunities offered by the cinema. Unless people or animals are introduced and made to perform certain natural actions connected with the scene, the use of a movie camera to make the record is rather a waste of materials. Here, for example, is a ravine of some kind. What gives it depth, width, life? Perhaps a child throwing a stone, which fails to land on the opposite bank or goes cascading down the slope. Perhaps some one running down precipitately or painfully climbing up. Here is an almond tree in bloom. This calls for a girl plucking a small branch or bending it to look into the depths of the flowers. Here is the first faint bud of a hyacinth peering through the ground. A small child pokes at the surrounding soil with a stick. Here are the first leaves coming out on an oak in the yard. The family cat is caught walking along the lowest branch. Here is a bushful of "snowballs" blooming against the garden fence. The lady of the house, with gloves and a pair of clippers, gathers enough to make a lovely table decoration. Here is a magnolia in full flower. A child, lifted to smell the huge white blossom, turns her head with a disgusted expression as she discovers that looks are not everything. Whatever the scene, the principle is the same. Make it live in the present by introducing people in action. The more factual you make today, the better history it will be tomorrow. Managing the cast [Continued from page 132] meetings were noted down. Some of them were discussed, and the results of the discussions were noted down also. In the evening at home, I would mull over the ideas and notes and try to fit them into sequences. The following day, I would read the results to the group at our lunch time meeting. Discussions would follow, but it was seldom found necessary to make any corrections. This procedure was repeated until the story was completed. Needless to say, the size of the group had dwindled. There were only four girls and myself left, but somehow this did not hamper the progress of the plot. The question of titles and names for the characters came up, and, from all the suggestions, we selected Glamour vs. Calories for the main title and "Mr. and Mrs. Tubby" and "Pinkey" (a girl) for the three main characters. The casting came up next. I already had concluded, secretly of course, that some of the girls might be suitable material to fit certain roles; but, besides appearances and personalities, the roles required other qualifications. Wardrobes, for example, and. especially, two fur coats! A group is always of help in similar circumstances; but. in this instance, a group of girls was very resourceful. In the first place, they knew each other pretty well and, secondly, they were familiar with each other's wardrobes and with other bits of pertinent and valuable information. This fact facilitated the selection of a cast to fit the roles without difficulty. There was one male character; but, as we could not find anybody to play it, the producer was obliged to turn actor as well! There is nothing unusual about that. The perpetrator of the original idea. Mary Franklin, became appropriately "Mrs. Tubby," and she did an excellent job of acting. We came to writing the scenario. As no one in the group was familiar witli camera work, I could hardly expect any help in this phase. I, as producer, director, cameraman et al., took the scenarization of the story as my own responsibility. In my estimation, scenario writing is the most fascinating ohase of movie making. To me, it means more than just a chronological list of scenes, camera viewpoints and distances. It also means an opportunity to smooth out the continuity, to think about cinematics, transitions from one sequence to the next, special effects to liven up the continuity, editing and all those little touches that enhance a motion picture. One of the best ways to check the smoothness of a continuity is to close one's eyes and vision the action unfurling itself on an imaginary screen. When the imaginary projector stops, then is the time to return to normal and to use one's ingenuity to make the necessary step forward. Experience has taught me that one's apartment or house makes the best of sets. The familiar surroundings facilitate the choice of camera positions and the flow of action. I have learned also that a sketch, made to scale, of the floor plan, indicating the location of doors, windows, furniture and similar information, is very helpful in locating camera positions and in controlling the flow of the action. Scene numbers representing camera positions are marked on the sketch, and a glance at it will tell immediately from what angle each scene will be filmed. This information becomes valuable also when a "breakdown" is made. (A breakdown is a list of scenes in the order in which they will be filmed, regardless of their order in the continuity.) Each member of the cast was given a copy of the story, written very much like the scenario, but without mention of scene numbers or camera designation. Scenario terminology would confuse a novice group. Doubtless, there are many methods of directing the action of a picture, but probably — and especially in dealing with amateur productions — they fall into three categories: just plain direction, a demonstration by the director and allowing the actor to render his or her own version. A mixture of all three, plus patience and diplomacy, will work wonders in any circle. In this particular instance, the method of explaining was used in the majority of scenes. The required action of each sequence was explained to the actors involved, prior to the filming, and then it was rehearsed. When rehearsals were satisfactory, the action was filmed. There were several rehearsals on film, too, but some of these proved to be more successful than the supposedly "good takes." and they were used. Most members of the cast responded well to direction. Others found it easier to follow a demonstration of the director. (Some were comical and entertaining to the members of the cast.) In one or two instances, an actress tried her version. More often than not, it would be advisable if the director would try the action himself before passing it to others to perform. He may find that a bit of action, involving the motion of head or hands, may be a strain unless the rest of the body — the feet especially — is in an adequate position. In this instance, the gypsy fortune teller, kneeling in front of Mrs. Tubby, could not get the simple bit of action of laying down the cards. Several rehearsals were tried, but each was more fatiguing than the previous one. After a rest, she knelt down to try again. This time, the director noticed that the gypsy was curling her toes under, rather than keeping them straight back with the sole uppermost. The position of the feet was adjusted, and it made all the difference in the action of the hands. It will be well to make actors feel at ease mentally and physically, in most