World Film and Television Progress (1937-1938)

NEWSREEL RUSHES Dear Mr. Editor Cummins, I am deeply interested in the newsreels. I firmly believe that some day they will find a way of really showing the world all the important and exciting things, in the tremendous marching pageant of history in the making. But I don't kid myself that any of Britain's reels are doing that now. All of them are much too much alike in repeating year after year the same sporting and military calendar — the same formula of "Derby — Trooping the Colour — Wimbledon." By living in continuous holy terror of the controversial boo or hiss, they achieve too great a uniformity of dullness. It's almost as if they had a secret agreement amongst themselves not to compete in finding the most dramatic stories. But even in the narrow field in which they work, each of our five reels has its own subtle flavour — each is stamped with the personality of its commentators and cutters, and above all, of its editor. You have brought many shining qualities to Paramount. I think your shoulders are also broad enough to bear the burden of some of its faults. Planned Shooting I'm told that you were once a cameraman. Maybe that's why camera work is the outstanding feature of your reel. Obviously your past experience enables you to pick the best men to put behind your cameras, to plan every detail of your shooting ahead, and thus to achieve an ordered dovetailing of the work of several men on the same story. You visualise your story on a mental screen, days before the shooting begins. Some months back, I remember a little story that in itself hadn't much in the way of drama or beauty — just two or three R.A.F. flying boats taking oft' on some routine long distance flight. But your cameras made it a thrilling experience — with close-ups of flashing propellors, and foam framed floats, and skimming water, and the urgent faces of pilots. It was a miniature speed symphony — made by the picture. And Paramount's annual news programme is filled with such sparkling items. Exclusive Feature But even the finest shooting, and the best plans, go wrong with badly designed or out-ofdate equipment — and here too I suspect that your past experience has a great deal to do with Paramount's lead on the battle front. Time and again, in front of Buckingham Palace or at the Aldershot Tattoo, I have been struck with the neatness, compactness, elasticity, and portability of your camera and sound units. Time and again, I have heard rival cameramen grunt over the lip of a glass : "If I make a mess of it I can always blame the old camera — but those poor Paramount lads haven't an alibi in the world." A piece of equipment, experimental, and at the moment, I believe, exclusive to Paramount, is a portable camera dolly — a form of tripod on wheels. With it the camera can "walk around" while actually shooting. A few recent striking dolly shots : a model of a ship in a glass case, with the camera slowly moving round it, like an idle spectator; the effect of "roaming the decks" of 30 "A Wide Open Letter to Mr. G. T. Cummins . . . Editor of British Paramount News" by Glen Norris This is the first of a series of articles in which our contributor submits the British Newsreels to candid and constructive criticism. W.F.N, publishes this as a valuable discussion of the merits and faults of our reels, although we do not necessarily endorse every opinion of the writer. Mr. G. T. Cummins will no doubt have something to say in reply to the comments in this article. a battleship during the Coronation Naval Review; the camera gliding towards some tophatted gentleman as if saying "excuse me, but would you care to say a word or two," then stopping at the close-up for a camera interview. I predict that Paramount's dolly experiment will soon be widely adopted. Organisation for Speed Once the pictures are "in the can," the final success of the job depends on the speed with which the negative can be rushed back to London. Twelve hours lost — and it may not even be worth developing. Twelve hours gained — and it may make headlines. For, like a newspaper, a newsreel scooping its rivals with a big story, reaps its reward in prestige and publicity — and here, too, Paramount is often in the winning class. Your world-wide network for collecting and transporting film is a wonder and a thorn to all who compete against it. Is it a funeral in Omsk Litomsk? You find a plane to fly the pictures back a little faster. Is it the weekly transAtlantic newsreel race? Maybe you still remember the story of how, at the U.S. end, they all missed the "Queen Mary" by inches. The others sat back to wait for the "Normandie," sailing a couple of days later. But meanwhile the Paramount transport sleuths found an obscure Italian cargo boat, leaving within an hour, and with just a chance of playing tortoise and hare with the "Normandie." On her way home, the Italian called at some small Trish port — the films were landed, thrown to a waiting plane, and with the "Normandie" steam ing down the Channel, Paramount had beaten the field by ten hours! Faults? Many a time, through the year, you get better pictures, and you get them on to the screens first. And yet .... Do you always make the best of those initial advantages? Do you always put over your stories in the newsiest, most effective way? I don't think so! I think there are faults in the make-up of your finished reel. Cutting To me, your cutting still shows signs of the "old silent style." A hang-over from the days when the picture had to tell the story — and every detail had to be hammered home in close-up. Do you remember? The enemies meet at last — closer up of face with murderous intentions — close-up of terror-stricken victim — close-up of revolver being slowly drawn from pocket — and so on, for reel after reel. But in the modern, fast moving newsreel, the continuity of the story is covered by the commentator. In its 100 feet, or less, the picture can, and should, do little more than illustrate the most telling incidents of the story — and only those. Every shot should be a super-shot — every cut-in should pull its weight in building up the atmosphere— every foot of film that falls below those standards should be junked. You still give us, in the name of continuity, far too many shots of closed cars dashing by, while we strain to glimpse the face inside — far too many shots of notabilities, almost wholly obscured by flunkeys, getting in and out of carriages — far too many cut-ins that are obviously posed. Never mind if you show The King in Edinburgh in one shot, and in Glasgow in the next. The commentator can carry the story across — and we shall applaud its speed. Above all, your reel needs more speed — and the first step in that direction would be to cut all those continuity "sustaining" shots — and leave their message to the commentator. I believe you would find that on an average one third of the footage of each story had been thrown overboard. Then you could set about filling up that length with more, newer, different, stories — and Paramount News would have the kick of a rocket. Commentary Talking of commentaries — are yours good enough? I say commentaries — not commentators. I am glad that you have two voices because I don't believe that a single one can cover the full range of emotions of the world's news. To your two voices I should even like to see added a third with a light, tripping quality for comedy, and a fourth, a bass, for big drama. But above all, I should like to see a reform in the writing of the commentaries. How consistently we are forced to listen to a description of the obvious— to such supremely unnecessary remarks as "Prince Blank drives through the streets" ; or "the vast crowd cheers"; or "His Majesty inspects the troops." How often, when a title superimposed on the picture tells us we are in