The screen writer (Apr-Oct 1948)

Zilch, Jr., was born, and finally in 1946 when my daughter Susan Zilch was born. I might add that this was not publicity given to me by Imperial Pictures. As a matter of fact, all these mentions were one-line items in the Vital Statistics column, and could not legitimately be considered personal publicity, although I have the clippings in a leather-bound scrap book. Under the by-laws of the Screen Writers' Guild I am forbidden to advertise my professional achievements. I was perfectly willing to take a full page in the trade papers advertising my collaboration on the additional dialogue on the picture previously referred to, but even this satisfaction was denied to me. I feel I should add at this point that Mrs. Zilch shares my views on the matter of publicity. Prior to our marriage Mrs. Zilch was for several years the wife of an obscure chiropractor and she had every reason to believe when she divorced him and married a contract scrivener that she would achieve some social prominence. I AM most anxious for the Grievance Committee to realize that these matters are not irrelevant. I am not injecting the name of Mrs. Zilch into this matter unnecessarily. It was largely for Mrs. Zilch that I did what I did and landed in Lincoln Heights Jail and I want the Committee to know about it. Other members of the Guild (who shall be nameless) seem to get their names in the papers without any difficulty. Whenever some of these characters give a party or make a wisecrack the columnists report it in detail. This, however, is only the case when the writer in question makes $3000 a week or more. Writers of "B" pictures, like myself, who make less than $500 a week never rate these attentions from the press. I consider this grossly unfair. Since my marriage to Mrs. Zilch we have given a great many fairly lavish parties. We have invariably invited Miss Parsons, Miss Hopper, Mr. Skolsky, and even Edith Gwynn, but none of them have ever attended these functions, nor have they even had the courtesy to acknowledge the invitations. As the Committee can well imagine, this has been extremely galling to Mrs. Zilch, who has spent literally hours in the kitchen spearing grilled mushrooms and little sausages with toothpicks in order to make these cocktail parties a social success. On the other hand, when Mr. Gilbert Gripes merely has lunch at Romanoff's and makes some feeble wisecrack that he read in last month's Reader's Digest it is widely reported. It is enough to make a person sick. So far I have merely given the Committee important background information upon which they will be able to judge the specific events which I now relate. \ BOUT three weeks ago I re■*■ ^-turned to Imperial Pictures after my customary semi-annual six week lay off. Under the terms of my contract with Imperial they have the option of laying me off six weeks in every twenty-six weeks and to date they have never failed to exercise this option. Anyway, I reported back for work, and Mr. Keeler, the scenario editor informed me that my first assignment would be to "dream-up" an original story. For a few moments I was quite elated. I had read in the trade papers that our studio was frantically searching for a good original story for our justly famous beautiful blonde star, Miss 'Bunsen' Burner. I told Mr. Keeler immediately that I had a terrific idea for a Burner vehicle, but Mr. Keeler was not sufficiently interested to hear it. He informed me that Mr. Gilbert Gripes had been borrowed from Paramount at an astronomical salary to write the Burner story and that I was to whip up another whodunit for our endless but profitable "Corpse" series, to be entitled The Marinated Corpse. I left Mr. Keeler 's office in a somewhat depressed frame of mind and returned to my office. I was amazed to discover that it (my office) was being occupied by Mr. Gilbert Gripes. When I protested, Mr. Gripes explained that he was there not by his own choice, but because of our shortage of office space and he added insult to injury by telling me that it (my office) was one of the lousiest he had ever occupied (I am quoting Mr. Gripes verbatim). I would like the Committee to understand further that Mr. Gripes had made himself thoroughly at home ; had taken down my pictures and put up his own, and had also availed himself, without my permission, of my typewriter, stationery, gin-rummy score-pads, and a great many other personal items. In addition to all this, I wish to state further that Mr. Gripes had definitely alienated the loyalty and cooperation of my secretary, Miss Hepplethwaite, who informed me very coldly that during my lay-off she had been assigned to Mr. Gripes and was taking her instructions from him. I immediately returned to Mr. Keeler's office to lodge a formal protest. Mr. Keeler was tied up in a conference, but his secretary apparently knew all about it. She told me that Mr. Keeler had given instructions for an extra desk to be placed in Miss Hepplethwaite's office which I could use until Mr. Gripes had finished his assignment. She added, in a manner which I can only describe as 'snide,' that Mr. Keeler had checked with Mr. Gripes, who had no objection to this arrangement. I told Mr. Keeler's secretary that I considered this an outrage and that I proposed to take the matter straight to Mr. J. K. Hoffheimer, Vice President In Charge of Production. In response to this Mr. Keeler's secretary merely consulted a card index file and then, in a manner which was not only snide but sinister, drew my attention to the fact that my option was coming up in a few months. She reminded me that Mr. Keeler took umbrage at writers who went over his head to other executives and said, in conclusion, that, of course, I could use my own judgment. Anxious to be cooperative with my employers during these trying times I decided not to make an issue of the matter. I returned to my office, or rather, to Miss Hepplethwaite's of The Screen Writer, April, 194 —