The public is never wrong (1953)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

49 ness on his own, but with the rise of Nickelodeons had switched to motion pictures. William Fox did about the same thing. I notice that movie historians refer to Fox as a former "pants sponger," and maybe he was. But he was an entertainer too. As one of a team billed as the Schmaltz Brothers he had enjoyed a minor success in the neighborhood of Fourteenth Street. Fox set up a film exchange, a fact which was to prove important to the industry a few years later. Unhappily, the public began to lose interest in films about 1907-8. The novelty had worn off and the picturemakers remained in a rut. There were attacks, too, from ministers and reformers. Even The Great Train Robbery was a blood-and-thunder thriller and consequently was lumped with the dime novels. We avoided salacious pictures, yet many were being made and shown widely. Marcus Loew lost faith in the movies and switched almost entirely to vaudeville. Other houses did the same. Now the motion picture became known as a "chaser," a boring device to drive patrons from a vaudeville house to make room for others. We, too, switched to vaudeville, though not to the extent that Loew did. I remember particularly a slender, supple girl named Sophie Tucker who did blackface songs for us. About this time I went into talking pictures. Edison and others were working on mechanical devices with some success. One might say I was like the old treadmill operators who used human power instead of machines. I simply put live actors behind the screen. One of them,