Moving Picture World (Nov-Dec 1924)

24 MOVING PICTURE WORLD November 1, 1924 This Settl es the Foreign Market The Editor Serves Notice That the Following Reply of W. Stephen Bush to George Kann Closes the Subject in These Columns — For a Week or Two, at Least By W. STEPHEN BUSH I AM quite happy to note that my little article on the foreign markets, . recently published in the World has evoked so many echoes. A discussion of the possibilities of the foreign market can only result in good. Mr. Kann has recorded his dissent from my conclusions and thinks I am all wrong. He may be right. I am only an amateur prospector while he is a trained expert. There are some things, however, I would like to point out to Mr. Kann by way of enlightenment. He says American methods of advertising cannot be applied in Europe and cites the example of our most distinguished and accomplished publicity artist who seems to have been lost in Europe. Mr. Harry Reichenbach, while not certain that he is the gentleman referred to, has, it seems to me, made a strong case out in his own defense. However, this may be a detail. Continental Europe and England differ somewhat. And it is of Continental Europe that I speak when I say I do not believe the need is for highpowered, specialized publicity experts. To convert the heathen in China, Africa, etc., we do not send famous theologians, but simple missionaries who can teach the natives the rudiments of doctrine. There’s your need: teaching the rudiments. Advertising the show is an unknown art. The very first principles of advertising are unknown. Mass psychology, brevity, condensation, differences between various forms of advertising are as mysterious to the European “ad” writers as algebra to the infant class. “Ads” are frequently written by distinguished scholars and literary heavy men, whose style harks back to the dull lustre of the midVictorian essayists. With us, brevity may be the soul of wit; in Europe, verbosity is the sure sign of genius. Look at the billboards of Paris, Berlin, Rome, Vienna and other big Continental towns. Here in New York I can ride in a street car or on a bus, and, gazing at billboards and advertising signs, I can pick up what each writer has to say as I travel along. The only way to get the full meaning of the advertiser abroad is to stand in front of the billboard and study the “ad” as you would an inscription in Latin or Greek. Only the exorbitant advertising rates of European newspapers keep the poets and essayists within limits. Here’s a startling statement appearing in Mr. Bush ’s letter: “E UROPE IS RECONCILED TO THE HAPPY ENDING!” “Ads,” as we look at it, ought to bring people into the theatre ; the best that can be said for them on the other side is that they do not directly prevent people from coming to see the show. There are Americans, Mr. Kann, who advertise in the American way and who have made a decided success of it. I mention my young friend, E. Zama, of Rome, who represents Universal in Italy. Drop him a line, care of Universal, via San Nicolo da Tolentino, Rome, Italy, and he will open your eyes. Ditto my friend Brink, formerly of Hodkinson and now engaged in the task of modernizing motion picture advertising in the city of Berlin. Ask him how he put over “The Ten Commandments.” Even little Switzerland has tried American methods in showing and advertising films of First National. They will tell you at 383 Madison Avenue that it was quite a success. Now, I uphold my contention that Europe stands where we were in 1907, and that in the next five years Europe will move ahead and cover about the same distance that we covered in those eventful five years. This is not at all an exclusive discovery of the writer. Jules Mastbaum, Sid Grauman and many lesser lights that have recently returned from abroad will tell you the same thing. Grauman wants to build theatres in Europe to be managed on American models and Jules is deeply interested in the possibilities. This naturally will mean more patronage, and more patronage means more films. No prettier “Sorites” or piling up of logical conclusions could be imagined ■ — n’est-ce-pas Mr. Kann? I persist in my firm belief that most of the films will be supplied from this side of the water. Three weeks in Europe will convince any person of ordinary powers of observation that European production is at its lowest ebb. I have been over there for three years. As a source of film supply, Europe cannot be considered seriously — not for the next five or ten years, anyway. You see, Mr. Kann, the question is not merely one of better photography, : though that is important, too, and helps to account for the popularity of our films abroad. The cause of the favor our films have found in Europe lies much deeper. The American film takes a message of hope across the water. War-weary, tired Europe with its polyglot population, with its foolish notions of caste and dignity, afflicted with all the infirmities of age, knows of this new land beyond the seas with its youthful vitality, with its dynamic energy and its vast va I riety of huge cities and wide spaces. } They all have heard and are hearing of this fabulous land, where you can travel from ocean to ocean without i showing your passport or letting the * police know where you sleep every 1 night ; this country where wages are • high. Believe me, Mr. Kann, Europe is \ tremendously interested in us. Europe admires our pioneer spirit which : is always looking for new conquests now that the Indians are all on reservations and the stage coach has been replaced by the “Iron Horse.” The new, free, happy, prosperous, romantic world beyond the sea is a subject of perpetual curiosity to the European. He wants to see the Americans at home. Maybe his imagination plays him false, maybe we are not half as romantic as he thinks we are, nor quite as free as we would like to be. Nevertheless, the European interest and curiosity persists. Our humor has a good deal to do with it — it is so fresh and spontaneous, perhaps rough at times and daring, but it makes them laugh. European producers take great care to label their comedies, lest they might be mistaken for scenics or tragedies or something — the American comedy needs no label. Likewise, Mr. Kann, the European audience begins to like a happy ending. American pictures have reconciled Europe’s picture patrons to happy endings. By the way, even the European producers are adopting the glad finish. While formerly the rate of mortality in the cast was frightful, it is now confined to one, or at the most, two or three villains. The hero and heroine are generally permitted to live and marry; anyway, they are no longer extra hazardous risks. Whatever demand there still exists for horrible endings will no doubt be more than supplied by the native producer. (Continued on page 64)