The public is never wrong (1953)

The Public Is Never Wrong ness, created an atmosphere of strain. But they rehearsed the scene three or four times and it seemed to go off all right. Then Porter took up his place behind his camera, which was about the size and shape of a small table radio and was mounted on a tripod. He had a small megaphone to speak through while cranking. The cranking speed was very important. No man's tempo was exactly the same as another's, and consequently if one cameraman started, he finished— unless there was a catastrophe. Porter had an assistant who could hit about the same speed, but he did nearly all his own camera work. Frohman and I took places well in the background. My memory ought to be of a grand thrill as the camera was at last ready to roll in the initial feature production in America. Actually, I was inwardly tense and apprehensive. Porter signaled to the players. They followed the chalk marks into camera range and began the scene— it was of the initial meeting of Flavia and the masquerading Englishman—which they had played hundreds of times before. It sounded just fine— and they had completely forgotten that the screen audience would not be able to hear their voices. In a moment they caught themselves, but now their gestures were overexaggerated and completely unreal. Porter stopped cranking. I headed for my office, walking briskly like a man satisfied with the way things were going. Frohman accompanied me.