Reel Life (1914-1915)

Twenty REEL LIFE The Practical Side of the Pictures THE movie fan who sits in a comfortable, well-ven¬ tilated theatre and gives himself up to the enjoyment of the pictures, if he marvels at anything beyond the histrionic ability of his favorites on the screen, perhaps may give the producer a slice of the credit. But if some¬ body, who has seen the inside of a motion picture factory suggests that he cast just one appreciative thought in the direction of the film editor and the humble artists who “assemble” the picture, he will not have a ghost of an idea, what this is all about. No picture would run smoothly, however; it would not be timed properly; the incidents would not be true to life, nor even appear in the right order, were it not for the expert labors of the assemblers, under whose practiced, disciminating eye the thousand or more feet of celluloid ribbon undergoes a critical review. It is they, who, with dextrous fingers, cut, reassemble and splice together, until the per¬ fected film is ready for projection from the motion picture machine. I was talking the other day with the clever film assembler of Our Mutual Girl. She has been six years in the business, and she is an enthusiast. “Most persons don’t realize,” she told me, “that a picture is never photographed in the order of events and scenes in which it appears on the screen. A director never follows the scenario literally. If he has four or five episodes enacted in the same setting, he takes them all, one after another, though they may be scattered all through the story. Then they come to us to be cut apart and inserted in their proper places. “The director may take the interior scenes to-day, and the exteriors next week. Yet, all these will belong to one subject. The film reaches us in rolls of different lengths, the story a hodge-podge. We unravel it by following the scenario. It is necessary to examine every piece of film to find the beginning, the end and the intermediate parts, and get them all together in dramatic sequence. In Reel 28 of Our Mutual Girl there were eighty-one different pieces, and from one hundred to one hundred and twentyfive different phases of the same scene. These all had to be separated, assorted and put together again. In The Escape, there were at least a thousand scenes, and any num¬ ber of cut-outs and changes. The picture was never two days the same. That was one of the biggest jobs we ever handled. “Sometimes we find the same scene taken twice. Then we project both versions upon the screen and select the better one to be incorporated permanently in the film. Or, a single scene may be shown several times in flash-backs. This is a very effective device as used by Mr. Griffith. We must ‘ recognize these flash-backs and insert them where they belong, either to show lapse of tiijie, or simultaneous actions separated by distance, or simply to sustain the dra¬ matic suspense. “We always are required to make the film a certain length — say 1,000 feet — and we may have anywhere from 1,025 feet to 1,200 or 1,500 feet which must be condensed. The question is where to cut. It often takes close figuring to decide precisely what can be eliminated without spoiling the story. You have to think all the while from the point of view of a person who sees the picture without knowing the scenario. “Comedy is much harder to assemble than dramatic film. In the dramatic there is plenty of action to work up, but in comedy everything happens so suddenly that one scene must be fitted immediately onto another so that movement will be instantaneous. The cameraman may have dragged the scene. You may get from him twenty-five feet of film, and use only five of it. “Every detail of a rapid action must appear in a series of flashes. If a man jumps out of a window, the next glimpse must show his legs coming down before he touches the ground — or people won’t “get” the incident. Again, if one of the characters throws something, the scene where it hits must come on in the next instant. The least delay makes the thing ineffective. “The handling of scenes usually gives us less trouble than the inserting of titles. This is done last, and generally they have to be changed three or four time before they are right. No two persons ever seem to agree about titles. Of course, the fewer used the better. To realize what changing them involves, it is necessary to trace the whole process. Titles sometimes are printed on cards, sometimes set up in type, to be photographed. The negative film is developed and the positive film printed from it. The positive film is what is used by the operator on the motion picture machine for pro¬ jection on the screen. Now, if the titles are wrong, these sections of the positive film have to be cut out. New titles have to be photographed, the negative developed, reprinted and made positive, and these new pieces inserted in the finished film. “There is all the difference in the world in working with negative or positive film. The former must be handled like an egg as the least scratch will blemish the positive printed from it. The positive is of much toughter fibre and has a less delicate surface. It can be run off, read, cut and spliced together, without damage. To realize how cautious the workers in a film factory actually are, one has only to consider how many hands a piece of negative film passes through before being made positive. That roll lying there has been treated by at least ten different persons, and yet there isn’t a scratch on it. “To an amateur, looking at film, many of the scenes will seem alike. But the expert is able to distinguish every de¬ tail of action — even to a turn of the head or change of ex¬ pression. It is fascinating to trace out the scenario on the positive, and make up the picture.” “But,” I said, “the actual picture on the celluloid ribbon is so tiny!” “You only think it is. It doesn’t seem so, because it is so clear. Why, you can even tell when a person has tears in her eyes in the film.” Every theatre should have a “Lost and Found” bureau and scrupulous care should be used to see that articles left in the theatre are saved for claimants. These ar¬ ticles may be trifling but they often are important to the losers, and every precaution should be taken to see that they are available if inquiry is made for them. “The silent drama should be witnessed in silence.” Remember that this applies to employees as well as to visitors, and do not permit any unnecessary talk in the theatre. This is particularly important as it applies to the operating booth. Nothing should take place there that will attract attention. The Operator.