The screen writer (Apr-Oct 1948)

by Harry Kurnitz Tube, with additional dialogue by The Worthington Pump Company. The next day, the panic was on. In the yeai that followed the screenwriter was completely eliminated from the Hollywood studios, except for a few who were kept on as oilers and mechanics. Production and profits in the studios touched alltime peaks and writer-producer relations were never as happy or as congenial. The Thomas Committee, which in 1953 had opened a thirtystory skyscraper headquarters in Hollywood was able to lease out three floors to a dry-cleaning firm, now that the writers no longer took so much of its time. To be sure, the machine, being only inhuman, had some failings, but they were for the most part negligible. Disgruntled writers for a time committed minor acts of sabotage against the machine, but Professor Trigg was prepared for just such contingencies with an auxiliary brain connected to a switchboard in the office of the Motion Picture Alliance for the Preservation of American Ideals, which apprehended and dealt summarily with the offenders. IN 1972, Stark Raving, the last screenwriter left in Hollywood, committed suicide by jumping into the dialogue mixer at UniversalInternational. Only two inches of tortoise-shell from Raving's spectacles were recovered from the giant hopper and the next day, when this relic was interred at Forest Lawn, only six people showed up. A simple marker, in the form of a marble pencil poised over a pad of limestone, was soon obliterated and that was the last trace of any writer. In 1973 every single picture produced in Hollywood was written by the machines and institutional industry advertising featured the slogan, "untouched by human hands/' Ten engineering concerns, licensed by Professor Trigg, were now in the field, and the original design by Scripto was much improved. There were dozens of brightly-colored plastic knobs and dials which a producer could twirl to his heart's content without affecting the quality of the output, and there was a de-luxe model, at slightly higher cost, which could write forewords and dedications. There was also a special model, called "Gaggo," for comedy routines and other such specialized functions, and another called "Slicko," exclusively for polishing. It is interesting to note that no machine was ever invented which could duplicate the functions of the producers and directors. NOVEMBER, 1973 became a historic date in the new era. That was the day when Oliver Stritch, an M.G.M. producer became dissatisfied with the screenplay of "Kiss That Goal," a college picture being written by one of the machines, and added a second machine to the assignment in the first mechanical collaboration. The dual effort was a huge success and Stritch was hailed as a genius, praise which he modestly disclaimed, giving all the credit to his executive producer. The script produced by the two machines had punch, wit, action, everything, and the picture which resulted from it grossed huge sums. To be sure, neither machine functioned very well for a time, and Professor Trigg, in an emergency overhaul, determined that they were dissatisfied with the joint-screenplay credit. He warned the producing companies against mechanical collaborations but his warnings were ignored, and joint efforts of two, three and as many as five machines were produced in that year. Designation of credit was invariably followed by minor work stoppage, slowdowns and curious mechanical breakdowns. Again over Professor Trigg's vehement protests the studios held credit arbitrations in certain disputes and for a time this seemed to ease the situation. IN the Spring of the following year, however, one of the machines at 20th Century-Fox, to the horror of the studio staff, suddenly flashed its signature to a petition urging better treatment of racial minorities and when the offending device was hastily removed, four other machines got up another petition of protest. A congressional inquiry revealed no signs of sabotage, or "jamming" by any foreign power, but one machine, despite Professor Trigg's frantic manipulation of its controls, denied the right of the committee to inquire into its private (or short-wave) beliefs. Professor Trigg, in a desperate effort to stem the tide of outraged editorial opinion, demolished the machine in a public ceremony at the base of the Washington Monument. (Continued on Page 26) The Screen Writer, August, 194 15