Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1916)

The Story of David Wark Griffith sider his "registering" ol emotion one ol tlic biggesl things oi the mam big scenes he has done. It is said that the Keystone comedies are now made to an accompaniment of "funny" music, whatever that is. Of course Griffith was an idiot, just like William James, in thinking thai music would assist acting in its psychologic effect. He thought it first; all producers know it now. There is another marked difference be tuivn tins moving star ami others; he so rarel] loses his temper or throws anj manner oi temperamental fits, that those who know him feel that he is deplorably lacking in those traits which "made'' Mansfield, Mrs. Carter, David Belasco, and others esteemed as of the genus genius, as much as what they did in their work. When other directors would froth at their mouths with language, Griffith sings. And he doesn't sing so blooming well as to recall Caruso or Ronci. He never has admitted it, in talking over reminiscences, hut I have it authoritatively that he once early in life determined to be an opera singer ; I should guess after hearing him several times that he thought himself a baritone. Recently he was rehearsing , Mae Marsh in a coming picture called "The Little Apache." afterwards re-christened "A Child of the Paris Streets." It was something of "The Two Orphans" idea. Mae was a long-lost cheeild-in a Paris thieves' den : her real father comes in. not knowing his daughter, nor she him. (Griffith wanted this done so and so. but the actors did it such and such. Over and over he put them through the scene. Finally he stood up and looked them all over reproachfully, and then busted into song, doing the Pagliacci prologue. Everyone looked very sad; Griffith aria-ed all over the shop, immensely pleased with himself, apparently, and everyone else becoming more and more sombre. Naturally I thought it was because of the singing. But one of the actors whispered to another beside me, "Gee! The governor's Walker Whiteside, who once refused to raise Griffith's pay from $15 a week to $18. real mad; lie's singing twice as loi usual." So it wasn't the singing tliat caused the sorrow ; n was the realization by tin com pany that it had i alien dow n. In a few minutes the bel canto teased Cantering, and the great director began telling Mae Marsh how to have her dresses made, and then rehearsal was called oh. Mr. Woods tells me that only twice in his eight years of association with him has he known Griffith to show anger. "Those two occasions were the onlj ones," said Woods, "and 1 hope they will be the last. When he does give way to anger, it becomes epical." He did have a quarrel with Walker Whiteside while he was a member of that star's com pany, at a time when the stai was not shining through the fool" gloom. It was not a serious quarrel, except as it affected Griffith's meal ticket and laun dry bills. Whiteside was paying him $15 a week and Griffith insisted that he should be ra to $18; Whiteside couldn't see that figure, and Griffith finally cooled down and continued to draw the fifteen per — for a time. Recently in Los Angeles the two met at dinner at the Alexandria hotel, a luxurious and costly place. They renewed the controversy, and finally Whiteside agreed that Griffith was reall-y worth $18 a week. The same report has it that Griffith then paid the check for the dinner, amounting to Whiteside's admission of a fair week's salary. "Just Gold" was Griffith's second picture. In making "Dolly" he had followed the scenario to the letter ; that was the first and last time he paid any attention to the author. From that day to this, he has never even had a scenario in his pocket when he made a picture : he has never made a note. "In making 'Just Gold' I began to seek after atmosphere and effects." he said, "and the clue to causes. If I have had a measure of success, possibly that effort was responsible largely, for it started me in the right direction.