The soul of the moving picture (1924)

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106 The Soul of the Moving Picture manuscript, and then lift them out before it is too late. To work with such a dramaturge is a pleasure. The author stands ashamed and humiliated in the presence of pictures the existence of which the dramaturge first challenges and then kills. One affable moment follows another of the same enviable description. A creative fever comes over both of them; they are convulsed when the heroes suffer; they revel in satisfaction when jolly situations rebound against each other. This is however an idealized situation. Generally speaking, the dramaturge is an ambitious, avaricious, sterile wiseacre who spills his caustic criticism all over the author's creation and leaves it a thing of shreds and patches. With heedless, listless scorn, he derides and lampoons any idea that did not originate in his anointed head. He robs in time the author of every vestige of desire to create so that he (the author) avoids future encounters with him (the dramaturge) as he would avoid a plague. From that time on, the author writes his manuscripts alone and sends them in to the dread dramaturge, who is at liberty to do with them as his conscience dictates. Good, delicate, and amiable film manuscripts do not arise in this way. There are poets and managers who do not know what the essential prerequisites of a good