Photoplay (Oct 1917 - Mar 1918)

Shooting the Music BEING a veracious account of the proceedings by which Joseph O'Sullivan, Mutual's music master, paints tune poems to accompany the presentation of the pictures in the theatres. Mr. Joseph O'Sullivan is a slight and picturesque person with a lot of hair and some temperament. He came out of Louisville, Ky., some years ago and broke into opera as a composer and expert in incidental music. Captured for the movies, he is now devoting his genius to the musical crazy-quilt business which is known as "cueing motion pictures." Which means that a "cue sheet" offering hints of themes and motifs is made by the motion picture distributor for distribution to the theatre orchestras. These cue sheets determine largely what you hear from the pit along with what you see on the screen. There is presumed to be a close artistic relation and Mr. O'Sullivan is the artist. The O'Sullivan method of extracting the musical essences of a motion picture and converting them into printed directions for "playing the picture" are highly technical, scientific, modern, and all that. The usual conception of a music cue-writer is a taperfingered young person tickling the piano as the picture rolls by, dictating notes to a self-effacing stenographer. Nothing of the sort. O'Sullivan works out his music cues without even looking at a piano. It is as systematic as the compilation of a railroad time-table and at least twice as accurate. The first step in this operation is to "can the picture," this being shop talk for the operation of dictating the plot and action of the picture, in the order of its happening and at the rate of soeed with which it happens, to the wax record of a recording phonograph. The musical Mr. O'Sullivan sits in the projection room, dictates his notes, then goes to his desk, listens to himself talk on the record and jots down the musical selections which seem to fit the case. For example, the music and each thematic change of the music must keep step with Mr. O'Sullivan sits in the pro jection room and dictates hi notes as he watches the picture the action on the screen and start and end at the proper times. This is worked out by a timing adjustment of the recording phonograph, which enables the cue sheet writer to tell at just how many minutes and seconds of elapsed time the comedian fell down-stairs on. the screen, or at just what point the leading lady flows into the arms of our hero on the iris fade-out at the finish. And this is how Mr. O'Sullivan's dope-sheet reads, however unintelligible it may sound to the uninitiated: O'Sullivan, reading rapidly from screen caption — "Say, young fellow, I'm Nick Fowler from Hohokus and I want to see Mr. Blunt." — This is the big rube talking to the office-boy. Scene in studio at twenty-two and a half. The kid starts a crap game with two pickaninnies. (Use an allegretto giocoso here; sure, that's the dope.) Back to the office — twenty-three and three quarters — Kid and two coons. "Oh you little Joe! Seben come eleben!" The dinge gets the six bits all right. Kid registers disgust — bellicoso; back to allegretto giocoso. Back to the office at twenty-seven. Trixie Friganza getting impatient. Lots of movement here — popular stuff, what? Con moto, I guess. The rube bumps into Trixie. She says, "Out of the way, you "boob!" Kid returns at twenty-eight. Time now twenty-nine. Subtitle: "Palter, the Loonie's butler, who hourly awaits," etc. Scene shows a horsefaced butler nosing from behind portieres. Mysterioso andante here — sumpin's going to happen anyhow — Our hero is led in to a den of cutthroats who mistake him for one of them. Time sixty and a half. Lord Cheesel enters — they're all excited — here you go now — agitato, agitato! Then comes the fight. Biff — bang! Furioriorioso agitato! And then — here comes the bride. Give 'em "The End of a Perfect Day" to the finish.