Variety (Jan 1948)

PICTVRBS Forty^eepad ^f^iajjETT Anntvermry Vc«lnegilay» January 7, 194ft' A TALE OF TWO CITIES By PAUL GERARD SMITH ttaa G. Smith Hollywood. I'm sure C. Randolph Dickens will forgive me for copping his title. My cities are closer to home, anyhow. Perhfips I should say three cities—or maybe four— because the subject leaps from Omaha, to Chicago, to New York, and Hollywood. But the first two don't matter so much; they were just vesti- bules. In fact, I can dispose of them in a sentence: I was born in Omaha and, at an early age, moved to Chicago. I think if I had been born with the feathers of a homing, pigeon, instead of just plain skin I wpiSd have flbwii right from the cradle to Broadway. Ever since I could read, write or talk it seemed to be the place I wanted to be most. I've been a lot of places on both sides of both oceans, and I've always felt more comfortable on the Bi^ Stem than I ever did on Michigan Boulevard, Boul Mich, the Ginza, the Escolta, Unter Den Linden or the Strand^^nd that includes Vine & Hollywood. rve always believed you can't want anything hard enough and not get it, I wanted to get to Broadway and I got there. And New York became the First of my Two Cities. This is the New York I found right after BiU the Kaiser had been eliminated. ■ Where "Finian's Rainbow" now plays, some few doors down from Dinty" Moore's there used to be a brbwnstone building. In the basement was a very tired ItaUan man named . Baroni. Baroni sold spaghetti—mainly to me^for I managed somehow to snag the top floor for what we jocosely called {t studio. I guess I was a little scared of the crowds and the glare-r-I still am—'fof I spent most, of my waking hours and all of my sleeping horns in a ball bedroom of that: three-flight-waUt-up. Days ! was batting out "vaude- ville acts'* pausing only to accept the platter of spaghetti Baroni sent up. Nights Fd look'out the window and watch the glare of the lights ebbing and flowing abov^ the old NVA Club, and wonder if I'd ever be able to walk down that street and be part of it. Baroni sadJ^ sold out to a guy named John Perona. Perona fed B man named-Firpo a lot of steaks one night, and imme- diately leapt into fame. X wrote vaudeville acts^ and for some silly reason the folks went for thenu One led to two—^two to tour --^ and before long there were over a hundred play> ing in vaudeville houses all over the country: Vaudeville— it was a- great thing, that vaudeville; a strange race of people . who learned fun and the art of acting by travelling from coast to coast and whetting their' talents on the audiences that 'Varied not only with each town but with each show. They learned their business front the ground up; and by and.. by pl;^ed the Palace and then graduated to Ziggy, the Shu- berts, 'firlanger, ^llingham and went on. to become recog- nized as people who were experts in their craft. They are a dying'race—there is a sprinkling of them still holding forth in films tod .on the radio—-but when the old man with the seiyth6-catches up to them OoA knows where their shoe- filling going to come from. 1 The Second of the '2 CHies* I up' to the top of « hill—but now it musn't be heard grinding off its momentous product.' Lots of things happened—and new stars came up—mostly recruited from the stage of Broadway, because they knew how to utter words. They didn't know the pantomime end so well, but then that's what directors were for. And little by little I would see old vaude- ville comrades show up—click—build houses and gradually lose every bit of the art their years of travelling about had given them. Not only that—thw acquired another commodity. Started to Believe ITieir Prcflsagents I Their names appeared bigger and oftener than they h&d ever seen them—and they began^ to suspect they were as good as their billing. And coupled with it was the other Hollywood ailment—which is almost epidemic in its proportions—Fear. Fear that maybe they are n6t what they ai;e sold as—^fear they may be caught up to-rfear they may have to slip back to the notch they previously occupied—^and that would be worse than death itself. There was a slogan prevalent out there some years back: "This is a great way to make dough— 1 hope nothing' ever happens to it. It resulted in a widespread panic any time any little thing seemed to threaten the sta- bility of the celluloid castles It's a great city. Pictures are a great institution. But who —^you finish the quip. But Hollywood was good to me and mme. It fed them, clothed them and sent them to school. The watching of its growth, the interesting ramifications and convulsions it went through—the Great Names that I have seen come and go—the experience Fve had—notiiing could replace that. So, having accomplished one main' purpose, ihk bringing up of a family in a nice, ordinary way, we find our- selves back with the old girl—^Broadway. For a number , of inipatient years we have antidpated'the reunion. Various friends have come back to Hollywood after •a visit with her and warned u^she isn't the same. But she is. Broadway doesn't change—Broadway isn't a street^it's a feeling. The people have changed—tbe. ideas have changed, some for the better, some for the worse as they have every- where in,;the world.' But that something that is pressed into •the pavement of Broadway—^that something that sets the vefy .name to music—that spirit of fun and laughter and creation that I knew I'd meet when I first came here basnet changed. It's just been buried under an avalanche of .'im- provement and progress." Bodily it has changed—but its Soul goes marching on. And one fine day it will recreate itself like the fabled Phoenix, and again spread its wings. Things that change are changeable. Anything .4!an: liappen, as long as there's life in the old girl. ' Water for the Elephant =By HOWARD DIETZ= HOIi.'YWOOD—that's the other of my Two Citie& There are only INtro Cities for those of us engaged in. the entertain- ment business—Hollywood and New York. So I turned my back on the old gal I had worshipped from the time I was able to crawl, to see what this new hot patootie had to offer. Broadway had been more than good to me—it had repaid my worship and my confidence in it a thousand- fold. And in payment Z.tumed my back on 'her. Ulysses was guUty of the same' siii—the sirens sang and' he listened. And this was the Ifollywood I finind: the first 'impression wa& tKe same as .any newcomer from the east gets—Yucca frees cUmbin^ 'the sandy hills like rheumatic ghosts as the trliin wont "by in the evening. Pasadena and roses at Christ-' masi Hollywood and Buster Keaton's studio. It was glamor- ous'outside as a deserted Jivery stable^but inside it was Fun. This was'in thfe silent days'before Fun had'given way to Glamour, Glitter and Big Business. Making pictures was a rollicking, swashbuckling, calling before sound and efficiency and' international trade took over, e^ecially on the comedy lots. 'VTe went from Keaton to Lloyd and l>ack to Keaton again ^ and life was full—and so were we—and people laOghed at the pictures we made, and everybody was happy about the whole thing. Nothing was serious. There were no office hours. And the greatest thing — was California — no snow -^no overcoat wheather to speak of. And inasmuch as we had a tribe of growing Smiths to feed and drag up, we were, grateful for the outdoors instead of the open spaces. Once or-twice I had a sneak back to see how old Broadway was doing. Hadn't changed any too.'much—Prohibition still 'on. The little sallow-faced man came in by. the window with the blicck bag of recently cooked gin and freshly blended shellac fae called Bourbon. Speakeasies, .with their guilty Oameraderie, every few doors. Friars Club stiU raising whoopee in the beautiful Monastery. A few faces missing — but the old heartbeat that made Broadway tick was still there. ' People still "helloed" you as you passed by — they were glad to see you. They stole you. blind the next minute, but tjiey stole in such a friendly way it was rather nice and forgiv&able. A' couple of musical comedies and back to Hollywood. iSound had come in. The microphone was a deathly secret, Nobody must know how this uncanny miracle came to pass— if you mentioned microphone you started packing instanter. All was hush-hush—except the Saturday Evening Post and Collier's carried stories about the new Art Form in practi*- cally every issue. Movietone City came into being — out where there was nothing but hills^and a little "snow set" which everybody used—and Tom Mix's stables. Winnie Sheehan was the head guy. Fox Movietone was the Big Shot. About this time two things occurred '— the |m|K>rtation M genius and tfaroatcutting. ' You never knew who you were working for. Executives kept their bats on at all tinfes, not knowing when the guillo- tine would fall. It was a gabby, noisy, madhouse. Great warehouses were erected to -actors and machinery. And there was a lot of new machinery: things to juggle micro- phones^ things to silence outside noises. We had a freight car with a wide window that hung from the roof, and travel- led around like a drunk engine in a railroad switchyard. This held the camera—a camera that a husky guy used to carry Howard Diets Ckatlet Sehbitcr You wUl for^ve this copy if It limps a little. I can ex- plain everything, bi otder to get an angle on a piece for the Anniversary issue, I thought it might be a good idea to look up last year's edition'. In picking it up I broke my arm, so I' had to type this with my left band.; Have you efei tried^tO'ivpewrite ivith one hand—it gives yon a sort o£. archy the cocliroach feeling. Still a lot Of people are pretty dam good with one hand. There is a caddie out in Holly- wood who can shoot in the low seven- ties and be has no left arm. I watched him slap a three-iroh shot about 230 yards and when' it hooked a little he opined that he'd put too nuicb right hand into the shot. Naturally it took tne a pretty long time to get started on the piebe. It got delayed and delayed and ons night I had a nightmare. Vaiueiy had forgotten t<)) get out an Anni- versary Number and the whole advertising staff was fired for the onussion; As several of these gentlemen are friends of mine I woke up shaking. Hien I realized that nothing of the kind was going to happen and all was normal a^in. Those Anniversary Numbers ate important, espeeiaUy- for their weight It "restores your confidence in the solidity of /^ow business, < And a Itoost to tonfldence is welcome after the year we've been through. There have been so many times when we didn't know how to cope with the engulfment of the situa- tion. The other day a fellow asked me what company I was working for and I testily said that it.was my constitu- tional right not to answer that question. But then, on. the advice of my attorney I recanted and said, "Despite my con- stitutional right I will tell you fiatly that I am a vice- president of M:-6-iyL'* He appreciated my candor but then waxed impertinent, and a^ed, "Just what does- '« Vice- . President do?" The gallery was tense waiting for my answer. But again I resorted to the constitution. So it goes.' Hollywood as never before has been starred as the nation's whipping-boy. It's been like a Coney Island concession where everybody steps up and takes a crack at it. The Hearst papers came out with the big angle, but no- body got tot^ alarmed. The feeling seems to be that the policy might'Switch suddenly at any moment without ex- planation like that Edgar Wallace yarn. Try and stop me i£ you've gheard this one. I ■ ; ;;- - Saga:(rf -|Wtelg'.Wi«^^ Edgar Wallace had written the first 20 installtnents for the London Daily Mail and then went off on a holiday. The paper ran the chapters and was getting to the deadline for the 21st. Wallace was needed. It seems he had left the hero at the bottom of a 40-foot deep slimy weU with snakes erawl- ing up and down the sides and no place for a purchase. 'What was to be done? They tried every mystery story writer in England but none of them could write a way out of the dilemma. On the last day Wallace returned and casually took his seat at the typewriter. The Daily Mail staff Crowded around to see how he'd solve the problem. He Wrofe"Chap- ter 21. Oi^ce out of the well..." So I, along with a few others, refuse to get too alarmed ■*by the developments. When the going gets tough the chal- lenge gets tougher and there is nothing wrong with the in- dustry that a good drink can't cure. After all it wasn't every- body who has been taking the potshots—only everybody who makes a habit of being vocaL About 140 million people didn't accuse Hollywood of vulgarity, immoraUiy and XTonununiinn. They just went on going to the movies. Maybe that is more important than the assorted on which reached a new peak-in 1447, > The Motion Picture Industry loolcs at the Future By CHARLES SCHLAIFER In the past the motion picture industry has had an in- feriority complex and .has glamorously covered it with a supposed: superiority eomplex; But we must have no com- plexes. We must be well adjusted people in a well inte. grated industry. We have outgrown our immaturity. We are an equal in'- the adulthood of society, responsible for our deeds as well as our misdeeds. The leadership of the motion pici ture industry has alerted itself to the ■-■ need for a sustained, constructive pub'- . lie relations campaign designed to tell : its audience'-rthe public—the true story Of its. achievtoents and its contrihu- \ tions to America as li^ell as to the rest of > the world. . ! Strange as it may seem, the film in- dustry is beginning to admit that in- stead of being the capital of bi^llyhoo ' it is the n:(Ost poorly publicized industry on the face ot the earth. Yet it possesses the best publicity mechanism of any in the world. But highly geared: machinery is in operation in the hands of intelligent film leaders working in association with the Johnston office. All, of us know- we must devise, develop and promote, new activities and projects which will enhance the standing of the film business with the public. We knowi too, that of chief importance is the blending of a vigorous public relations campaign on the part of each and every element in the industry whether production, distribution or exhibition. ^ : ; The industry's leaders recognize that to have good public relations it is first necessary to have a courageous,.'forward- r looking attitude within the industry toward it. It has been a cinch for people .to be critical of the industry and to claim it has no real public relations policy. But these people have not stopped to consider the unique position of the picture business. They haven't given thought to the obvious- tact that ours is an industry of widely divergent ideas, an industry- of all types of creative people s^ . work- ing in an emotional, tremendously*'competitive business. The industry's people; however, have shown time and again that When the occasion demands they can blend their efforts for a common goal. Only one short year ago, for instance, something happened which ,can now be considered a momentous incident in our public relations thinking. The State of New York passed a bill which would have imposed a strong censorship on all ; our advertising. The then Public Information Committee, predecessor to the present Advertising and Publicity Directors' Committee, learned of it at tb6 Uth hour. By fast footwork we man- aged to deflect the bill just before the Governor of New York signed it.. The bill had already been placed on his desk. The New York State press, when we told it of this near, calamity, joined us in blasting the bill editorially. No member of the Fourth Estate failed to recognize the peril to any medium of expression involving tany form of^rcn- sorship. " ' This was the peg upon which we hung our coats and went to work. At one'moment it had appeared bleak. We shared only a forlorn hope of saving soibething that seemed lost,' Yet, out of this grew recognition that tbere "Was a crying, urgent need for an industry public relations oampaign.' 'i The APDC and .the Advertising Advisory Council to the Motion Picture Association, both of which X 9ta honored to serve: .as chairman, became busily engagedvin: pretienting plans for action. , .. Meanwhile the Council recommended a program to revita- lize the advertising code. It won the quick ajpg^roval of the presidents of the major movie companies. : : ' ?■ A Continuing Prograniv From this developed the idea of a contiAu^g publii!'re- lations program which we submitted to the Johnston , ofi^ice and to the company presidents. . We realized that we had struck pay dirt as soon as the plan was publicized when there materialized an amazingly articulate response from all parts of the industry. ^ We began to hear a-sentence from our public relations program spoken by a fUm executive on the West Coast. Then by an cast coast industry leader. That grew into paragraphs. And into sections. Important leaders were beginning to use parts of the program as a basis for iwhat they had to say of the need for jstimulated public 'relations; , , Happily, the Motion Picture Association, which' was al- ways interested in better industry public relations thinking, as well as in our program, took further acticfti. The plan now is underway. ' Strides are being made. The need for this has long existed. The'- public should have known long ago that through the combined, efforts, skills and talents of the industry's personnel we" have been ' and are doing more to sell the democratic, free-enterprise, American way of life than any other industry. We must be proud that we are Uncle Sam's greatest salesmen. And to ' place it bluntly, wetmust be great salesmen for onrselvfis. We must emphasize. our achievements and our "attainments rather than merely our personalities. Whpt we do, we do and in the best way we know. None of us is perfect. We are not expected to be peinlSect. We should recognize that. _ We should also know the movie industry's public rela- .tions program means success and freedom in the'long view. Everyone in . the industry should examine the meaning in , the broadcast as well as in a personal sense because every- - one in the industry can contribute "Id make the public re- lations program noble. Movie people have a high reiq>onsibiIlty. Most of us know it. We know, too, we have high citizenship standards. And this meahs we haye a deep loyalty to American principles ' and a tremendous stake in our land. When we in the industry are able to prove all this the snide appraisals of our industry will come to a dead halt. We can offer the proof easily merely by shedding light on our record. It is a record of which we can well be proud. We have, shown many times that we can unite ourselves. If are have done it before we can do it easily in behaU of our public relations thinking, which is a snre «'gn of a healthy future for the industry. Frankly, we can do no less.