W. C. Fields : his follies and fortunes (1949)

things was faultless. Sometimes his bosses would persuade him to try a scene their way, as a "dry run," just for fun. But he always inspected the cameras first, to see if they were loaded with film. "No tricks," he would warn them. "Keep those cameras empty." Strangely, he was a marvel of co-operation to the publicity boys. For one thing, his publicity stills were the delight of the studio photographers. His controlled expressions somehow managed to convey every facet of his humor, and it was unnecessary to add much promotional material to his photos. Thomas drove out to Laughlin Park one day to confer with the comedian about a release. Fields received him affably, on the lawn, and showed him over the grounds, taking careful note of the flowers and shrubs. Before Thomas left, a watch salesman Fields had summoned arrived with a big sample case of his wares. Ever since the hallucinations at Las Encinas, Fields had showed an unusual interest in watches. He looked these over slowly, handling them, and holding them up to the light. At length he selected several for himself, and asked Thomas, "Do you see any others I ought to have?" "I like the gold oval one there, Mr. Fields," he said. Fields picked it up, held it out to him, and said, "It's yours. A little gift from one of your grateful charges." Fields got $125,000 for each of his pictures at Universal; it took him approximately two months to finish one. This amount was swelled by the $25,000 he required and got for his "stories," which were nothing but scrambled notes. He never wrote a screen treatment or anything else which took time or effort. His literary offerings for the cinema were bare outlines of plots, situations, all of them troublesome and some downright impossible to film, such as his plan to parachute off a mountain with an umbrella. Most of his pictures made money for Universal, despite their unconventional outlook on life. By the time of his employ 325