Picture Play Magazine (Jul - Dec 1929)

20 Tke Battle of tke Accents It rages in Hollywood between stage players and film stars, and never the twain shall meet — in speech at least. By Elsi Que p, ty-\ ^ I '' \ ik x * *' ***>, ££\ Illustrated by Lui Trugo FIGURATIVELY speaking, the streets of Hollywood are running with gore. Under the chamberof-commerce blue of the California sky, a World War in miniature is being fought amid the awful silence of what are paradoxically known as the sound stages. The Battle of the Accents has been raging for months, with terrific casualties and, at the present writing, with hope of a decision. Established film favorites, seeking strength in union, have adopted the war cry of "The Three Musketeers," "All for one, and one for all" — this alone indicates the seriousness of the situation — and are massing for defense against invading stage forces. Stars and interviewers have come to grips in a minor, but spirited, engagement. The producers have a hand in each of these conflicts, and in their spare time are fighting each other. And still our marines remain in Nicaragua ! The Battle of the Accents is of first importance, because the fate of so many once near and dear to us hangs on the outcome. Are the talkies to go British, or remain Ammurican? Most of the stage-trained players speak British English, or something approximating it. The filmites speak shade of Ammurican to be found between the every two oceans and the Canadian Compare, for instance, the luscious Tent' Avenoo intonations of Clara Bow, or the husky, corn-belt twang of Buddy Rogers, with the brittle enunciation of Jeanne Eagels, or the subdued, cultured drawl of Raymond Hackett. We are told that before the year is out, even the remotest hamlets in the United States will be wired for talking pictures. In which case there must be a place on our screens for all types of speech — the cultivated, and the wild, or natural, variety. But from across the seas, from the mother country, has come a refined yelp of protest. British ears are not to be affronted by any but the purest English as spoken in the right little, tight little isle. It is bad enough to have to look at these vulgah Yanks, as they have been doing for yeahs, without having to listen to the offensive argot that passes over here for speech. Such, in essence, is the opinion and Mexican borders. Old Europe looks upon Uncle Sam as uncouth, young giant. of John Maxwell, chairman of British International Pictures, the most important film organization in the land from which we severed all but friendly relations back in 1776. Mr. Maxwell believes that the English language, through talking pictures, has a good chance of becoming the international language. But, he insists, it is to be "English English"— not "American English." He cites, as a reason for his belief, the fact that large numbers of English actors are being employed in Hollywood studios. Perhaps it is unkind to suggest that this handful of missionaries may succumb to the virulent American idiom, before they can get very far with their good work. Maybe they have been inoculated against it. So far there is little indication that American producers are frightened or depressed by British diatribes against our accent. On the other hand, there is plenty to indicate that European producers are fearful of our influence. They are bestirring themselves over there, as never before. Combines, mergers, suits having to do with patent rights, and countersuits are being rushed into, all directed toward one common end — to keep Europe from being dominated by the American talkie, as it was by the American silent movie. It is rumored that the largest movie concern in Britain has combined with the largest and pioneer, German talkie enterprise ; that a five-million-dollar company has been formed to develop the talkie held in England, in conjunction with a fifteenmillion-dollar concern in Germany to exploit the Continental field. There is more back of all this than mere commercial enterprise and business acumen. Europe is really afraid of us — afraid that our manners, customs, and attitudes toward life will be forced upon her rising generations. Americans in general have little idea of the distrust and prejudice with which many of our institutions are regarded by middle-class Europeans. This unwelcome American invasion seems, to endanger not only their cultural integrity, but the very foundations of their national life. So the Battle of the Accents, although it may seem amusing to the United States, clumsy, exuberant, uncouth young giant that it is, is a serious matter to old Europe. She is watching us with anxious, hostile eves, like an ancient