Moving Picture World (Aug 1916)

THE MOVING PICTURE WORLD August 26, 1916 NO BrainS ReQllired ®^®®®®®^ By Louis Reeves Harrison A CONTEST i announced. It is made known in heavy type that a certain producer is now willing to give three prizes, aggregating less than two thousand dollars for three really great plays, complete and fascinating outputs of the subtle minds of genius, provided they are such. Otherwise, they will he paid for at •current rates," whatever that means. This offer is supposed to be alluring for first-rate litterateurs, notwithstanding the fact that they are receiving more money from reputable concerns, and without the risk of getting no better reward for their efforts than "current rates." The longer one studies life and its beautiful expression through the arts, the more one appreciates our sore lack of true creative genius, a lack that is not in the people, hut in the suppression of intense effort by the very men w ho should nourish the rare plant. We are just beginning to realize the importance of unity in this new art of ours, a harmony of its three artistic elements, of which the story itself comes first. Treatment and interpretation of the story are tremendous factors when there is really a tine story to tell. When there is not, they are merely gay trappings on a grotesque and misshapen thing, ridiculous when it is not distinctly offensive to intelligence. Wherein is there nourishment for ability in a proposition to take over plays submitted in competition for a high prize at any price the producer may fix, regardless of the author's right to obtain what he can for his work? Why should the prizes themselves aggregate less than would be paid for three plays out of competition? Does not such a proposition eliminate from the outset those really skilled in their calling? It has not yet been found necessary to issue terms of contest in order to get a few tons of mixed scenarios for the purpose of examining the haystack to find one needle. Nearly every bureau drawer in the country contains one or more rejected scripts of the unskilled, most of them drawn consciously, or unconsciously, from what has already done service on the screen. Most of them have been written because screen production seems to be fascinatingly easy, by people who have not taken the trouble to investigate even the material they are using. to say nothing of their subject matter, life, and the methods of action through which interesting phases of life are revealed. Such scripts are written with only an offhand guess as to their appropriateness for screen presentation, with only a vague longing for aesthetic appeal, and with little or no knowledge of logical structure. They will appear in every contest, if their writers have a few postage stamps, and their presence merely clogs the wheels of a scenario department. They give the false impression that there are plenty of writers in the field, whereas they rarely impress the truth, that authors of experience are taught by that experience to avoid throwing jewels into a melting pot of scrap iron. A fine play is a jewel, a gem shaped for an exquisite setting. Diligent search among the scrap heaps, by editors endowed with a delicate sense of choice, might now and then discover one, but when a ten-thousand-dollar setting is planned for a thousand-dollar gem, it is only common sense to look for it where skilled workmanship is applied to the native value. Xo skilled author will, however, be found offering gems in a contest where they may be appropriated at an indefinite valuation. Question always asked by the author of experience is, "Who is to decide on the merit of stories submitted for examination?" particularly when he has something worth while to submit. He can succeed only when he combines in himself both the creative and the critical faculties. His creation only becomes artistic through his fine spirit of choice, hence he keenly appreciates the necessity of a similar spirit on the part of those who make the award. Depending as he must on their ability to recognize merit in a story, he is usually wise enough to enter no contest where they are not named and fully empowered. Ten thousand dollars has more than once been offered for the best novel submitted in contest, the money put up subject to the decision of an announced committee of responsible nun, and no conditions imposed which might compel an author to sacrifice his product because of failure to win the prize. On the dignity, honesty and ability of the committee depends all interest intelligent authors feel in such a competition. The conditions of motion-picture scenario contests, even more than the lack of business ability shown in offering prizes below "current rates" for superior product, indicate that the promotors of such contests have got the wrong measure of authorship. "There are two kinds of work in the world," says Dr. Frank Crane in his famous Globe editorials, "which may be called routine work and creative work. By routine work we mean the tending of machines, the discharge of office duties, keeping accounts, tending the sick, running a business, and the like." "By creative . work we mean the writing of stories, the composition of music, the painting of pictures, the modeling of statues," etc. "Creative work." he admits, "is the scarcest in the world." Not to draw lines so sharply, for creative work may enter into that of routine, and routine may play an important part in creative work, it may be said that the men who make what has not been made before, who invent, who originate, who scatter newly-discovered truth in beautiful forms, make also the age in which they live. The novelist adopts methods more subtle than those of preachment to enforce his point — he reaches the thinking faculties through sentiment, meanwhile gathering into one grand picture the details of some interesting phase of existence. The big visualized story is a screen novel in its way. The superior screen novel offers some new element of pleasure, some fresh departure of thought, some mighty trend of passion, some delineation of beauty. A thing of ran conception, it should be brought to a perfection of structure by the author before the director is called upon to add his graces of treatment. This is the only way to unity in any art. and on that unity depends its success as a work of art. The producer who imagines that no brains are required has got the wrong measure of wdtat he is in business to produce. Even photography is no longer regarded as a merely mechanical process. It has developed into a subtle art in this new avenue of opportunity. Brains are required to bring out fine picture composition in photographing the action of a story ; brains are required to select such settings as will harmonize with the atmosphere and mood of the story; brains are required to grasp and interpret the characters of the story : brains are required to direct the movement of interpreters and to supervise the visualization of the story — is it not possible that brains may be required to create the story?