Variety (January 1961)

16 PlfTlUE? Fiftyfifth Anniversary January 4, 1961 THE ONE AND ONLY, UNIVERSAL, ALL-LOVING LANGUAGE Bv ROBERT GESSNER (Flrsi Professor To Teach TV, New York University) TIME: October, 1976. FL ACE: The White House. President is running for reelection to make a second leg of eight years'in the White House. Due to the AntiF.D.R. Amendment, forbidding more than two successive terms, he had time out to recuperate in 1969-72. The scene is the East Room office of the Presidency. In the centre is a de>k on which there are no papers. Overhead are batteries of lights sus¬ pended on cable*. Three unmanned TV cameras, nailed to the floor, are marked* Closeup, Medium, Zoom. On the floor are chalk marks out¬ lining various portions of shoes. Along tne walls are batteries of monitors on roller*. Over the door is a glass sign, now unlit, which reads: Quite On The Air. The only decoration is behind the ci-'k. a flag which now lias 60 stars. AT THE RISE: President Kennedy enters, followed t-\ Pierre Salinger. The President has acquired con¬ sult! able girth and faintly resembles William Howard Tatt. Salinger has lost weight and resembles a gaunt version of . Jim Hagerty. SALINGER ' readl clipboard ' : “Your speech to the Jit publican Atheists For Kennedy topped by 3.7 Roekv’s speech to the Independent Catholics For Rockefeller. Your Trendex is up for the day. Chief.” THE PRESIDENT: “Ah. Pierre, it was easier in the oui (3a\s. Remember back in ’60 w lien we used to get around the count! y, see the sights, ride in parades, sleep in airplane'.’’ SALINGER: “Those were the good old days, 'frowns) Ro-ky again. Chief. I can’t keep him off.” THE PRESIDENT: “You know mv ruling on that! No TV debates." SALINGER: “But Rocky proposes to wear makeup.'* THE PRESIDENT: “He’s that anxious'.’” SALINGER: "Chief, he’s desperate. He’ll even let you {dek the makeup man.” THE PRESIDENT: “Tempting. But no, the answer i* 'till no.” Secretary enters, saying: “Bonn calling. Mr. President.” The President presses button marked “61” a* secretary wheel* forward monitor labeled "61." Another secretary p:t-'*e* master control ior cameras. The lights are e:ed and illuminated, .the mike is lowered. The light r\tr the door fia*hes. the sign reads: Quiet On The Air. A rear *<-reen i* rolled behind the President on which, dm mg trie overseas conversation, are flashed colored pictures of factories belching smoke, wheat fields bending in the wind, superhighways with speedy cars, skyscrapers, etc. THE PRESIDENT: “I wonder what the Old Fox wants this time.” A picture of Chancellor Adenauer comes into focus. He Seek* (:i: te chipper, though over a hundred. ADENAUER: “Good morning. Jack. How’s the cam¬ paign going?" THE PRESIDENT: “Look* close. C. A. I wish I had your -ex appeal with the younger vote. How’* the crisis?” ADENAUER: “The same. How’s the gold holding out’.’’ THE PRESIDENT: “Walt till I check.” The President presses button marked “Fort Knox.” Secretary wheels forward monitor marked “Fort Knox.” On the tube comes into view an enormous room, empty except ten one hand truck on which are a dozen gold bars. A detachment of marine* are standing guard. The President presses button, picture fades. He turns back to camera. THE PRESIDENT: “Mr. Chancellor, don’t you worry. We’re still in business.” ADENAUER. “Glad to hear it. Jack. I’ll cancel my fheht reservation. I had an invitation to view gold-plated china collection in the Kremlin. ‘Bye. i| w. Auf wiederh u.“ The picture fades, the cameras are turned off, the rear-view projection stops. SALINGER: “Mr. President, the Cabinet is waiting, the weekly meeting. We’re minus thirty.” The President advances to a chalked outline of his shoes, takes position. The lights are turned on. the red light appear* on camera marked Clo*eup. the camera used exclusively during cabinet meetings. On the rear¬ view screen, during the meeting, appear enlarged portraits of the Presidents, beginning with Washington. Adams, Jefferson, etc., each given a 10-second exposure. Monitors have been wheeled forward to form a U-*hape as though seated at a table with the President at the head. Each monitor has a label over its glass, marked: Secretary of State. Secretary of Treasury, Secretary of Commerce, etc. Salinger ■counting : “. . . four, three, two. one. The weekly Cabinet meeting will now come to order. Take ere.” THE PRESIDENT* “Gentlemen. I ask you to note the wall screen* in your respective offices. Ready? (snaps f. piers Roll the tape for the G.N.P. report.” All Secretaries, as seen in their monitors, lift their head* at -imPar angles to view ofT-frame screen*. SALINGER: Chief. Puerto Rico i* waiting. We’re r::: us 25. five seconds behind schedule. Tine President move* to another chalked outline of his sh< < *. ukes position. The led light appear* on camera marked Medium, which i* u*ed exclusively for the States. A monitor marked “51” is wheeled forward. SALINGER (Y-'t-. ♦; 7; : . . tjmee. two. one. The F;u rtc; Rico Hour, our Southern-M/ost State, is now in sc "ion. Take two.” 'I HE PRESIDENT: “Fe llow America 10s, a* file First Lady say*. -nos*, hoc(>s dins . .\ . si . . . gradns . . . L.f -is (.ces.’’ ‘.snaps fingers Roll ft ape for the Tourism P: e\ k w.” Or: Mc-nPor .51 the Governor and his aides raise their he .ad* to view off-frame a sc reening of “Prospect*; for Tourism: Sea-tin of 1976-77. the Ri-Centennial of Hie Amt ruin Revolution with Live Tableaux Imported from Di-rc viand Freedomland. and Mrcy’* Parade.” S 'LINGER: “Mr President, the Congress i* waiting. V.V’p mil.-:;* 20. five seconds behind schedule.” Ihe President moves left to a different chalked outline el shoes and takes position. The red light appear* on camera marked Zoom, which Is used exclusively for the Congress. A monitor with a huge 200-inch glass, marked ‘‘The Congress,” is wheeled forward. SALINGER ( counting fast): “. . . two, two-and-a-half, one, one-and-a-half, let ’er rip! The 99th Congress con¬ venes in The Congressional Cavalcade. Take three. THE PRESIDENT: “Senators, Representatives, Lobby¬ ists, lend me your ears. (As the President speaks b.g. music begins softly with Brahms’ Lullaby. On the rear¬ view projector begins a series of peaceful, pastoral scenes of clouds and sea and gentle hills). I come not to bury the budget, but to praise it. (snaps fingers) Roll tape for the Budget Report.” On the 200-inch picture the Joint Session of 120 Sena¬ tors and 500 Representatives turn their heads in unison to view the Budget Report for 1976-77, superimposed on landscapes and seascapes. SALINGER 'frantically): “Mr. President, we are fall¬ ing behind schedule again. You must change to a fresh blue shirt. Coming up is NATO Noontime— I mean Asia in the A.M., followed by Africa Assembly in the afternoon, Baghdad Pact in the P.M. — ” THE PRESIDENT (interrupting): “I can’t take It anymore, Sal. Oh, those four golden years — ages ago— back in ’69-’72 w hen I went back to writing thise books — ‘Sideview of Courage.’ ‘The Full Face of Truth’— the author’s life for me! Even if people don’t read anymore.” SALINGER (hysterical): “But. Chief, Asia in the A. M. is standing by — we’re fouling up the long lines — networks — schedules — .” THE PRESIDENT (suddenly inspired): “I tell you what.. Sally. < snaps fingers) Get Rocky on the phone. Ya. tell Rocky he can have his debate — but this time I'll wear the makeup!” FADE OUT The Horse On The Expense Account By AL MORGAN Having wrung the last headline out of poking an in¬ vestigative nose into the isolation booths of America and exposing the rather personal old age security pians of our top disk jockeys, it’s only a question of time before some Congressional body really rocks the gravy boat by examining the expense accounts filed by two generations of toilers in the vineyards of the com¬ munications industry. For all I know', there may be some unsung and con¬ fused senator even now scratching his head in bewilderment over the vouchers filed for a sixmonth period in the late 1940s by one enterprising member of the Radio Writers Guild. For the sake of our story and with one eye on the libel laws, let’s call him Harry. In this particular case only the name has been changed to protect the guilty and besides, if and when that black day of in¬ vestigation arrives you’ll be seeing him on your television screens. He is a cinch to be the star witness. Not. I hasten to add that his swindle sheets (it’s just part of the jargon of the trade. Senator, it doesn’t necessarily mean that there was anything crooked about them) were any more outrageous than most. They w’ere, I’ll admit, originals. In some circles they are still spoken of with reverence as masterpieces, lifting the humdrum docu¬ ments listing taxi fares, entertainment and tips to the level of an art form. There are some who contend with, I think, some justice, that they deserve being preserved In a time capsule the next time we get around to having a World’s Fair. Until he got out of the Army in 1945, Harry had never had a restaurant meal that cost more than a buck and a half. He’d never been in a restaurant, where the napkin wasn’t made of paper. His normal means of transportation was the subway and that only when his destination was more than four miles away during a blizzard. Before the war he had worked as a copy boy on a weekly newspaper in his hometown in upstate Minnesota. During the war he had been assigned to the Press Camp of one of the armies as a typist. With this training and back¬ ground he was, of course, hired immediately by. a major radio station to be one of a staff of four highly skilled, highly competent, trained reporters on a new show that was going to cover New \Tork the way the seven news¬ papers never had. Made-to-Order Harry loved the idea. He bought a civilian hat with a brim that went up in front and a wide band to hold the brand new press card they gave him. He even had a hand in writing the opening copy of the show; which was spoken in a hard hitting, highly skilled, competent voice over a fanfare recorded by the combined Army-Navv-Marine Corps Band. The copy read: “Last night while you were sleeping we were wandering the avenues up and down and the street? across in this biggest of all big cities, to bring you the heartache and the laughter that makes New York . . . New York.” Harry met the program director for the first time when he submitted t he copy. The program director came in with indignation coining out of his pores. “Who wrote this drivel?" Harry, the last one hired, took the rap. “I did,” he said. And then he added “Sir.” “For God’s sake,” said the program director, “Any fool knows the streets go up and down the avenues across.” “Depends,” said Harry. “On where you’re standing.” The Program Director, who was really a very insecure man thought it over and said. “I like somebody who lias the guts to stand up for something lie believes in” and left. The second time he met the Program Director was at the lirst stall' meeting beiore the show went on the air. “Nobody on this show is on the take.” said the Program Director Who sometimes had to hire two moving vans to take home his Christmas loot*. “The first time I hear about any <>1 you guys letting a pressagent buy you a drink or Idling a night club owner pick up a lab, that guy gets tired. You w'iil all have ample expense accounts. Use them." Harry heard the speech in the following order of Im¬ portance. 1. Night club 2, Expense accounts. 3. Use them. Up until then the most important disco\ery he had made, in order of importance was. Cokes and doughnuts (Continued on page 40) From The Files , SAMUEL GOLDWYN:::::::::::;:;::::;:::::::: "When sound was in the process of revolutionizing our business there were many In Hollywood who not only dis¬ approved of this mechanical monster but who thought it was just a passing fancy. Recently in my files I came across a letter written S2 years ago from an actor who, at that time, had been under contract to me for several years and to whom we had sent an amendment to his contract to cover sound pictures. This Is what he wrote: “5th August, 1928 “My dear Sam: “With reference to the additional clause to the contract—* I would rather not sign this, at any rate just at present. Except as a scientific achievement, I am not sympathetic to this “sound" business. I feel, as so many do, that this is a mechanical resource, that it is a retrogressive and tempo¬ rary digression in so far as it affects the art of motion picture acting. — in short that it does not. properly belong to my particular work (of which naturally I must be the best judge'. “That the public are for the time being demanding this novelty is obvious, and that the producer is anxious to supply it is natural, and for the actor to dispute this situa¬ tion or contend against it would-be foolish. After four years’ experience with myself, the firm should have no doubt as to my reasonable cooperation in this matter — as in others. “For me to function conscientiously before the micro¬ phone is one thing, but to sign a legally phrased document authorizing this is a very different matter and would logically presuppose my approval of this mechanical ac¬ cessory to my work. “I hope I have made this clear, Sam. May I request that the company will respect these convictions and leave the matter where it is. “Kind regards always,” Now who do you suppose it was who had these feelings that sound was just a "retrogressive and temporary digres¬ sion’’? Who do you suppose it was who could not express his approval of this "mechanical accessory” to his work? What actor of that day would feel that sound did not be¬ long “to my particular work”? XV ell, I won’t keep it a mystery any longer. Curiously enough, it was an actor who was not only outstanding in silent pictures but who turned out to be superb in sound — who, almost 20 years later, won an Oscar as Best Actor of the Year. It was someone who, in addition to being a line actor, was a fine gentleman, and whose memory, both as actor and man, we all revere — Ronald Colman. I can also tell you that at just about the same time t. leading film executive said to me: “Sound will never last in pictures. You see, people like to go to the movies to take it easy. A man goes into a pic¬ ture house, smokes a cigar and sometimes takes a nap. He’ll never be able to do that with all that sound going on.” I won’t tell you who said that, however. He is still around, and still making pictures— with sound! TIME GALLOPS ON _ By .HOWARD DIETZ _ _ I Now' that Time, the master critic, has stopped marching on but has taken to galloping, we find ourselves turning first to the obituary page, playing a morbid guessing game on the way. Will there be someone we know? We die vicariously almost every morning. Among those we hope to meet in Valhalla, if we are tapped for it, are' the following from the class of 1960. Franklin P. Adams, most admired noble columnist and mentor to many writers who made the grade. It is years since those pithy notes in £reen ink w'ere received from the pen of F.P.A. Newman Levy, the barrister and man of letters , noted contributor to “The Conning Tower” is hatching a biography of The Boss illuminated with light verse culled from the archives of the contribution. Edwin Justus Mayer. Poet, playwright and screen writer, disciple of Lord Byron whom he could quote almost completely. Indeed Eddie was an authority on any subject that began with the letter “A” or the letter “B.” In his youth, he had been presented with a work called Nelson’s Encyclopaedia and he had memorized everything as far as “C.” Eddie was a bohemian who had revolted from materialistic environment and moved to Greenwich Village. His pursestrings were generally in shreds and he came to us for a job in the then Goldwyn publicity department. We offered him S25 a week. “$25,” he snorted, “I can borrow that much a week.” Walter Catlett. We met Walter, during a first hazing In the theatre where we had written the lyrics to the Jerome Kern show entitled “Dear Sir.” Catlett had been triumphant as “Big Hearted Otis” in “Sally" and our show turned out to be a whistle-stop on. his way (i “Lady be .Good.” His picturesque language was noticed by that compiler of slang, the late H. L. Mencken. On being Introduced to us. Waiter put out his hand and said. “Press the flesh — give me five.” He was an inventor of many cliches which would not have become cliches had they not been so original. Clark Gable. The Moose, as he was. called by some, accompanied by his best friend, Howard Strickling, arrived in New York and was escorted to the St. Regis Hotel. It was early in the morning. The suite hadn’t been fresh¬ ened up from the guest before, and the chambermaids with pail and mops were the reception committee. They were properly girlish and excited at the sight of their star. Clark was everyone’s star and becomingly so. He lifted the two ladies in his arms and planted solid ki**es on their blushing cheeks. Like Cromwellian scars of battle, we are sure they were never washed off. Oscar Hammerstein 2nd. The most universally liked in show business, and most admired for his song lyrics and touching librettos, was consulted by Lucinda Ballard who was designing the costumes for "Allegro.” A sexy nightgown was required for Jan Clayton. “I suppose You’d like black lace with flesh chiffon." said Lucinda. Oscar spoke up quickly. “Not at all. White muslin with blue ribbons.” Prof. Gessner A1 Morgan