Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1919)

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Vendredi, the African lion of the L-KO studio, is affectionately called "Von," by his trainer. Monsieur Gay. Here, " Von " entered a blacksmith shop, unannounced, and broke up the wooing of the proprietor and a buxom country damsel. Lions are trained for picture -work with a whip. Unless they are born in captivity they are very wild, and have to learn to respect force. A training whip is loaded with lead at the end, but this is not used unless absolutely necessary. IF you could ask just one question about the animal actors of the various studios, what would it be? Altogether, now —"How do they do it?" Of course; that's what we all want to know. When, in a screen comedy, we see Charlie, the Universal elephant, walk up to a house "set," insert his proboscis through the window, and lift out a struggling, sputtering tramp, and with heavy, placid tread, deposit him in an ash can or a muddy pool, we want to know what made him do it; was it a club, a bag of peanuts, or a repetition of the stunt for two or three grueling hours? When Vendredi, the L-Ko lion, snarls wickedly through the screen into the very face of the shuddering audience, and threatens to chew the neck of the slap-stick comedian, what is it that makes him behave so rudely? Does the cameraman wait until his nibs the lion works himself into a rage — is he starved into a bad humor, or does he just naturally like to chew comedians' necks? When Teddy, the wonder dog of the Sennett studio, scrubs the floor, puts the baby to bed, and exhibits a variety of other super-canine accomplishments, what is it makes him go through his paces? The bribe of a bone, the intimidation of a stick, or the rehearsal of his "part" the day before? How do they do it? Do they work cheerfully, sullenly, or temperamentally? Are they camera-shy, and do they mind visitors? Are they aware of their ability and do they lord it over the less gifted animals? "Curly" Stecker, animal trainer at Universal City, is an e.^ert in his hne, and it is through his untiring efforts that Joe Martin, the orang-outang, Charlie, the elephant, and other inhabitants of the Universal menagerie have reached their present high state of intelligence. "Curly" was exercising Joe in the space outside his cage, and the big orang-outang greeted me solemnly by extending a hairy paw and kissing my hand. This ceremony over, he held out his paw suggestively and stared at me with sad brown eyes until I took the hint and brought out a bag of candy, which he immediately seized upon. "Monkeys are the easiest animals to train," "Curly" told me. "They're naturally imitative, and you can talk to them as you would to a human being. Joe is an orang-outang, and I got him in Borneo about seven years ago — raised him from a pup. He understands what I'm saying just as well as you do — don't you, Joe?" Joe paused in the act of dissecting a piece of peanut-brittle, and gave vent to a series of chattering squeaks. "He says he does," interpreted "Curly." And I took his word for it. 28 Have you ever wondered works so enthusiasti by clever Joe Martin Charlie? Here are Ho^v Do T