Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1919)

THERE'S only one thing to do whin yourc stranded half way to your destination and the garage man telU you that it will take two hours ^at Si.: 5 each) to grind your carburetors, or whatever has to be grounii when your car goes on a strike: Finil a movie theater. That is, if it happens that you are fortunate enough to be stalled in the evening, if you are unfortunate enough to be stalled at all. So it chanced that we came to the little theater prepared to kill an hour or so blinking at a picture we had seen months, maybe years, before! mid auu' two ncu' productions by D. II'. Griffith, "tried on the dog. " For the last twenty or twenty-live years, it has been customary to lake a stage production de.>.tined for Broadway out to some town a few hours from New York and "try it on the dog." It's not a particularly complimentary' phrase, so far as the site of the try-out is concerned; but its e.xpressive and necessary. New Haven, Stamford. Asbury Park and Atlantic City are among the favorite "dog towns" of the metropolis. Each has seen many a musical show or drama before Broadway has had a chance to accept or reject it. They are to New \'ork what Pomona. W'hittier, Santa Ana and Riverside are to Los .Angeles, though it will be news even to many photoplay producers that there exists such a practice as "tr>'ing on the dog"' the new picture plays before their release. So far as the writer knows, but two producers seek a \erdict from a public audience before turning their product over to the exchanges and each represents an extreme in film making — D. W. Grifiith and Mack Sennett. Grifiith has been doing it ever since he filmed "The Escape" five years ago. Sennett is more recent in the practice. The manner in which each gauges the effect on "the dog"'differs widely — as widely as their respective productions differ. Just who invented the dog try-out is not known to the writer, but his object was two-fold. He wanted to familiarize his players with their roles, time the laughs — if the vehicle contained any appeal to the risibilities — and to get the general effect on an audience. He knew that if he put it out on Broadway "cold" his players might get fussed and that might prove fatal, because it rarely occurs that a play is given another chance on Broadway after one flivver. So it was necessary to go out in the "sticks'' and see if the dog took kindly to it. Very often changes result from these trv-outs that, had they not been made, would have transformed a possible success into a sure fliv. But it is different with the pictures. The players are never afflicted with stage fright, once on the screen, and they have already become thoroughly familiar with their respective roles. As compared with stage practice, the changes that can result are of minor importance. The action may be speeded where it seems to drag, by judicious cutting; a scene that doesn't "get over"' may be eliminated or a subtitle altered. In some instances the continuity has been radically changed. Persons continuously employed for weeks or months on a production cannot help but accjuire a perspective that doe.';n't jibe at all with that of a group of people who are having their first glimpse at the finished photoplay. There were no noisy lithographs in the little theater lobby, just a few frames of still pictures and a little muslin sign, "New D. \V. Grifiith Picture, Two Months Ahead of New York." Of course the sign drew a snort of derision from my companion, who wisely guessed that it was "Intolerance" cut down to fit a "hick " audience. But a hurried glimpse of the noted producer himself just entering the theater caused him to change his mind. So we bought tickets and slipped in. S4 N e \v H a V e n s Stage plays are "tried on the ufacturing Center, but the two motor hours east of Los Santa Ana as It was a great night. Not only did we see a Gritfith picture tried on the dog, but two of them — one perhaps the most sublime work of the new art, the other banal in theme but rich in characterizations and photography. The name of the former then was "White Blossom and the Chink," since changed to "Broken Blossoms;" the other at the opposite extreme, "True Heart Susie." "Susie"' came first, and while it was being shown several young men sleuthed about the house, pausing to catch a remark or to watch the effect of a scene on some person or group. In the middle of the house sat "D. W."' himself. Beside him sat his stenographer who scribbled busily in the half-dark, recording the almost never ceasing comments of the producer. Once the producer arose quietly and walked down the aisle and then passed slowly in front of a row of spectators to the other aisle. "I suppose that if the folks whose view he is blocking bawl him out for obstructing their view, he is satisfied that the scene is good," guessed my seat mate. But it was a bad guess. If "they bawled him out,'" as he elegantly expressed it, there would be a change in the scene. It didn't get over. But if the persons whom he passed merely moved their heads so as not to lose sight of the screen for a second, he knew that he had won their deepest interest. By Alfred Decoration hy