Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1930)

the the Mr. Thalberg: "Can't we get Ukelelc Ike to sing that in this picture?" Mr. Mayer: "This ain't a revue. The picture is all about an English noblewoman who loses her — " Mr. Gilbert: "—Shirt." Mr. Mayer: "Shut up; you're only a margin-crazy actor." MR. YIDOR: "Let's concentrate on this story. Did anyone hear the telephone ringing? My broker is — " Mr. Mayer: "Now, I got an idea. In this story Lady Marginia — I mean Marjorie — Postlewaithe is sailing in her yacht on the Mediterranean and gets a cable that her husband is unfaithful to her. She registers sorrow. Then — " Mr. Thalberg: "That faithless husband gag was an antique when I was the boy genius of Universal. Have her handed a wireless calling for ten million more margin. Then she takes a revolver out of the bureau drawer, and — " AT that moment the crash of a shot and sound of a falling body came through sound-proof wall. Mr. Mayer: "The author. Too bad. He lost his in Montgomery Ward. Well, it cuts down the studio overhead a thousand a week. He hasn't written a thing for two months." Mr. Vidor: " I don't like Thalberg's ending for that story. I don't believe in unhappy endings. The public don't — " Mr. Thalberg: "Yeah? How about that .lark mystery play of yours — ' Hallelujah' ? " Mr. Yidor: " What do you mean, mystery play?" Mr. Thalberg: "Mystery why it was ever made." Mr. Vidor: "You're a liar. That's going to be a clean-up. There's nothing in it about the market." Mr. Gilbert: "Let's change the subject. I hear Joe Schenck got a terrible bumping in General Electric." Mr. Thalberg: "Yes, and Irving Berlin, too. lie's got to write a lot of new songs to get his dough back." Mr. Mayer: "How about this story?" Chorus: "To hell with it." EYER since Hollywood was a flag station for prairie schooners, we've been saying, " Well, I'd be satisfied to go to pictures just to see the newsreel." Now the 8,000,000 citizens of New York have a chance to prove these words, for t lie metropolis has the first theater in motion picture history devoted entirely to the showing of newsreels with sound thrown in for good measure. The Embassy Theater, in the heart of Times Square, is the spot — renamed " The News Reel Theater." The bill runs about an hour, and it costs a quarter to get in day and night. When fresh news clips arrive, they are titled "Extra" and shot into the show, just as big newspapers get out fresh editions six or eight times a day. It's a thrill! The notion was a hit from the day The News Reel Theater opened its doors. It's another William Fox idea, and Fox Movietone News and Hearst Metrotone News furnish the news and feature bits. And what a grand notion it is ! The first big splash of the news medium of the future. A A' up-to-date geography class: Now, children, what WAS the most famous street in the New World? Broadway. Correct. And what WAS it famous for? Chorus girls, restaurants, wine, Diamond JimBrady, cocktails, actors, Wilson Mizner, Tin Pan Alley, Irving Berlin, electric lights, Peggy Joyce, hansom cabs, Arnold Rothstein, Stage Door Johns, Metropolitan Opera Stars, authors. Correct. And where are they now? Dead, or in Hollywood. Correct. Then, children, what is the most famous street in the New World now? Hollywood Boulevard. Correct. You may now file quietly to the projection room for the voice culture class. The picture for today's lesson is "Condemned." Listen closely to Professor Ronald Colman. CHANCE tossed me into a small-town motion picture theater a few days ago. By small town, I mean an American city of 50,000 people — where we work by day and play bridge in the evening, and visit with our neighbors, and get to bed by eleven, conscious of a day well-spent. The feature picture at the town's leading house was one that was moderately received in big city theaters, even though it was designed for them. And it was even more moderately received in my little city. And what got the biggest applause and interest of the whole program? It wasn't the feature, nor the newsreel — it was a two-reel, all-talking comedy that had its share of hearty laughs — that lifted us out of the conventional feature into a brief interlude of farce. I HA YE a hunch that one of the talkies' greatest bet s is just this. That it will relieve us of the conventionality of a long, self-conscious play done in photoplay form, and give us, once more, a two-reel jolt of hearty, whole-souled laughter. It's my idea that the two-reel comedy is just coming into its own. Picture bills need more laughs, these days — we have too much sad and suffering drama. Have you seen "Faro Nell," or "A Hollywood Star"? Say, I like to died! And so will you — in a perfectly nice way. 30