The New Movie Magazine (Dec 1929-May 1930)

Tells the Inside Story of a Movie Massacre Bill Jones would see hisself as a bearded Yank chase hisself as a Gilletted reb through the house. Of course, they'd change horses, but not often. Most of the brutes was assigned for the picture. Granny, the camera man, had one, an old bag of bones assigned him, though, that only he ever rode. That combination could fasten a camera to the pommel of a saddle and crank a chase scene both going and coming. And that old nag knew his master too, you couldn't get him ten feet from the camera when he was on location. Granny used to glom carrots from the cook shack for 'im. As I said before, this galloping drama was to be different. We knew that was true 'cause all the heads had told us so. The same villain, Franklin, chased the same virtuous ingenue over the hills, but this time he was to use the mouth of a canyon. For once they picked a location that could be used without me cutting down a mountain or hacksawing through a forest of underbrush. They was two cliffs at the mouth of the canyon. They was about fifty feet high and about one hundred feet apart and right on a line with each other. The morning for the big scenes arrived as per usual. The fog held for a couple of hours and then the sun just wouldn't stay out. Franklin arrived about an hour late, which didn't matter, but he had a grouch on. He'd been out the night before and one of the boys had pried him loose from chinning hisself on a curbstone at Third and Main, where the barkeep had throwed him when they'd closed the joint. His head was big enough any time, but with a hangover it was like the start of the National Balloon Race. He just made hisself generally disagreeable all morning, had a scrap with the head cameraman, sassed the corral boss and was taking all of his hate out on the leading lady and muh. We all tried to get him to rehearse the scenes and then shoot 'em when the sun stayed out. Taking advice was just one of his won't's that day. THE script called for the blue cavalry to be ambushed as they passed the junction of the two cliffs. A squad of Johnny Rebs was planted on top of each hill with a camera right behind 'em. They wasn't taking any chances of missing this one big scene. Granny sets up about a hundred feet down from the mouth. The blues was to ride down, the rebs on the hills was to fire and the blues was to mill around, some of 'em get killed and then they was to retreat. The leading lady was then to chase after 'em and to rescue her fond lover, who was supposed to be with 'em. Granny gets set and focused. He checks up the other stiffs that ground film and hollers to Franklin : "Rattle your hocks, you poor Centaurs, the sun is glooming." The poor punks didn't know that Centaurs meant bulls, they just wasn't educated. Franklin sent me to the prop-room about a mile away for the flag and on a pony properly named Nuisance. I got back without breaking any bones but not fast enough to suit his nobs. He had sent the troop up the canyon and told 'em to ride down the canyon toward Granny and to ride like the rebels was after 'em. He told me plenty when I arrived, then handed me a blue jacket and says, "Lead 'em down and don't be afraid to kick that nag into a gallop ; this is a race for life and liberty, not a jaunt in the park. Keep the flag waving and keep it in front!" Then he told the rebel squads to fire on us when we hit the junction. WHEN I got out of sight of the camera, where the gang was waiting about 150 strong, I hollered back, "Anything special." hoping that he would yell. "Yea, do a fall and pick out some more to fall, too." And falls meant an extra dollar and. if it was a good flop right in the foreground, it might bring two bucks. I needed some extra two buckses. Back came his voice through a megaphone. "Never mind about anything special, get riding and ride like Hell. I'm directing this picture." ^ "All right, old top." says I to myself and gave old Nuisance the spur. Down we came waving the old flag like a Barbara Frietchie. We hit the mouth of the canyon at full speed. The gray troops fought bravely. They opened fire. Nuisance, darn her. took the bit in her mouth and then we did ride. We rode a full mile before I could pull the old she-devil up. When I got back the dust was clearing up. (Continued on pag< 114; 99