Screenland (Sept 1922–Feb 1923)

' HOLLYWOOD C<M_»*0**MK 15) Sennett tosses the gold pesos his stars have earned for him. In Screenland it is called a "panoram." Landscapes are painted on it and then the contraption whirls about at 45-miles an hour. The artists enact their hazardous little scenes on the narrow stage encircling it, in perfect safety. Often we have wondered how it was humanly possible to perform the familiar Sennett stunts where Ben Turpin flies serenely through the air or whizzes along on a motorcycle at death-defying speed. The secret is ours. Sennett cops have traveled thousands of miles in pursuit of comic villains . . . traveling around the "panoram." The peculiar looking square to right of the "panoram" and near the extreme corner is an early California set, recently used by Mabel Normand in "Suzanna." It was, by the way, a reproduction of Ramona's original home. On this set Mabel vamped all the little bears and defenseless he-men seen in "Suzanna." Surrounding are a number of small structures ; these house props and other doo-dads are used in Sennett productions. Crossing to Lot Two, you find yourself looking upon the first stage erected by Mack Sennett, 75 x 125 feet, when he entered the business 'way back in 1912. Destiny is a strange thing, you agree, as our guide informs us it was here on this same modest stage and bit of ground that Charlie Chaplin, Mabel Normand, Fatty Arbuckle, Al St. John, Ford Sterling and a host of others first commercialized their funny antics on the silvcrsheet. Others there were in legion whose names blazed in electric lights for a short time, then faded away not to be heard from anon. WHEN Sennett started business, pictures were really in the infant stage. Pies were slung right and left and we had spasms laughing over the funny doings of comedians then — things that today would make you yawn and grunt in disgust; yet in 1912, we were sure we had never before seen anything quite so comical and we shrieked for more. Think of the dozens and dozens of pies that have sailed across that stage to waste their sweetness against the faces of comedians ! Strawberry pie, lemon meringue, mince, apple. . . On the same stage, Gloria Swanson — the divine Gloria whose subtle lure has drawn many a handsome young reel hero to destruction — first learned to snake around as a Sennett bathing girl. Just fawncy that, now! Marie Prevost, Mary Thurman and Alice Lake can have gold-lined bathtubs nowadays, if they want 'em, but back in the dim past when Sennett discovered them, bathing was work, not a luxury. Then, Gloria and Charlie didn't value their services at very high figures . . . they were glad to get any kind of picture work and at the company's own price. Contrast that with today ! Chaplin earns more change than his voluminous trousers will accommodate while Miss Swanson doesn't even look at price tags when she goes to shop. Hang on to your hat as we skim across the avenue. That narrow doorway is the main entrance to the plant. The little line of windows running almost down to the street corner, open into the women's dressing rooms— the extra girl's first glimpse of paradise. To the left of the entrance are the cutting rooms and laboratories. Immediately adjoining these is the projection room or Sennett theatre. On the right as one enters the gate are passed the executive offices — the brain departments. The stages require no description. The famous swimming tank, 35 x 55 feet and 12 deep, is located on the big open stage to the right. Charlie has been pushed in that vat, so has Ben, while many a little Sennett squab fluttered about in the same cold water. Mabel Normand's own bungalow is the tiny house in the upper left hand corner of the lot, near the large tree. It contains a reception room, bedroom, dining room and bath. Without leaving the lot, Miss Normand can receive her friends either formally or en famille; have her cinnamon toast and tea ; take a little nap — in fact, it's a regular little home and with all comforts. Ben Turpin has no studio bungalow; j'ust a dressing room. The tall tower houses the private offices of the comedy czar himself. It is so designed as to give Sennett a bird of a view of his entire 38 acres by merely lifting an eye from his mash notes. There is a Catholic chapel on the premises, too, where services are held every Sunday, we are assured. On Lot Four, just beyond the largest stage, you see the bear den, chicken run (where eggs are collected, by the way), and duck pond. On the lot, also, are the permanent sets, including a city street, country town and Western barrooms (less real than the chicken runs). Crooked eyes and straight limbs — Sennett owes his present opulence to both! <i Hozo was it humanly possible for Ben Turpin to fly serenely through the air and whizz along on a motorcycle at death-defying speed? The secret is ours. He traveled around the "panoram" where the cop chases of the old comedy days were staged. Next month zve will have a look at the Culver City palace of arts — Goldwyn Studios. 50