9/7/1933 HCN Elizabeth Yeaman
9/7/1933 HCN Elizabeth Yeaman
MGM is very much elated over the purchase of a story titled Three Men, which comes from the pen of Arthur Caesar, who is noted as a wit and author of comedy dialogue, has changed to a heavy dramatic theme in this story,, which is destined to co-star John Barrymore and Otto Kruger. At last it would seem that the studio has decided that Kruger is sufficiently groomed for the screen and now he seems to be in line for some real parts. Kruger and Barrymore may be rivals yet, as far as type of portrayals is concerned. For Barrymore, as you know, is to play Kruger's stage role in Universal's production of Counsellor-at-Law.
Three Men is woven about the lives of three boys who grow up together as friends. One boy becomes a governor, another seeks priesthood and becomes a cardinal, while the third becomes a crook. The climax comes when the crook is sentenced to the electric chair and his plea for a pardon goes to the governor, who was a boyhood friend. This story should offer an excellent psychological study.
....
Young Tom Brown is as nice a lad as you will find in the film industry. Freckle-faced and unspoiled by fame, he makes friends wherever he goes. Tom was originally started on his career by Universal. His term contract with that company is expiring, but he does not lack other offers. In fact he will get one of his biggest opportunities at Radio Pictures, where he has been signed for the lead with Dorothy Jordan in Wild Birds. I understand that both Robert Montgomery and Phillips Holmes were tested for this same role which goes to Tom. The story is woven about the romance of an orphan girl on a farm and a boy who runs away from a reformatory.
....
Thelma Todd is the latest addition to the cast of Counselor at Law at Universal. This picture is to have one of the mot pretentious casts that has been assembled of late. With John Barrymore as the star, others will be Bebe Daniels, Isabel Jewell, Onslow Stevens, Doris Kenyon, all of screen fame. Nine members of the original New York stage production also are signed for the picture. They are Vincent Sherman, Conway Washburn, John Qualen, Elmer Brown, Maika Kornstien, Angela Jacobs, Clara Langster, T.H. Manning and Marvin Kline. William Wyler will direct.
....
Darryl Zanuck, I hear, is very much interested in a picture idea which will uncover another racket. Zanuck's greatest claim to fame has been the pictures he produced which exposed various kinds of rackets. He started the expose of the gangster racket at Warners, and although censors opposed the idea, I personally believe it is rather a good thing to show the public, pictorially, the type of underworld life that has developed in this country. The latest racket to be exposed by Zanuck, via Twentieth Century Pictures, is the gambling racket. Games of chance of all kinds will be shown, and Damon Runyon is to write the story. Apparently Zanuck does not expect Hollywood to reform too rapidly, as a result of this picture, since Joseph Schenck, his film partner and backer, is heavily interested in the casino at Agua Caliente. But there's one thing about gamblers–they seldom reform, even though they are told about the uneven odds.
....
Robert Montgomery won't have the lead opposite Connie Bennett in Moulin Rouge after all. This is to be another Twentieth Century production which starts very soon. A deal for the loan of Montgomery was made some time ago, but since the role will require more time than originally anticipated, he will not be available for the part, as he is closely scheduled at MGM. So the studio has offered to lend Franchot Tone for Moulin Rouge instead.
....
Irving Thalberg is definitely committed to a policy of signing up talent under personal contract. His negotiations have now centered on Elissa Landi, who at the moment is at Universal for By Candlelight. There's every probability that Miss Landi will sign up with Thalberg, although no contract has gone through at this writing.
....
Although Charles Laughton is renouncing a large salary to return to England and play Shakespearian roles on the stage at a salary of $100 a week, he is not burning all his bridges behind him in the matter of salary. Paramount today signed him to a new term contract, which will govern his services after Jan. 1, 1934. Meanwhile Laughton will have three months in which to indulge his love for the stage and Shakespeare. Two other new contracts handed out at Paramount will continue the services of Gail Patrick and Roscoe Karns.
Hollywood Sets In the 30's
ABBREVIATIONS
DN — Los Angeles Daily News
EE — Los Angeles Evening Express
EH — Los Angeles Evening Herald
EHE — Los Angeles Evening Herald Express
FD — Film Daily
HCN — Hollywood Citizen News
HDC — Hollywood Daily Citizen
IDN — Los Angeles Illustrated Daily News
LAR — Los Angeles Record
LAPR — Los Angeles Post-Record
LAX — Los Angeles Examiner
MPH — Motion Picture Herald
SFC — San Francisco Chronicle
Note: Film Daily and Motion Picture Herald were film industry professional journals, the information they contained was written for theater owners and managers.
1/4/1930 EE CAST COULDN'T BE SERIOUS
Filming comedy stories has become a rather difficult proposition since talking pictures have become the vogue. In the making of silent motion picture comedies, it didn't matter if the players themselves reacted to the humor of the situation and laughed out loud in a scene.
There was no sensitive microphone to record the sound of their laughter. The camera continued to grind despite the fact that the actors were laughing at their own antics. Vitaphone has changed that.
During the filming of a scene in The Aviator, adapted from the stage hit, now playing at Warner Brothers Hollywood Theater, the dialogue and situations reacted upon the actors, especially in scenes where the "ad libbing" of Edward Everett Horton, who heads the cast, was at its best. They found themselves laughing at themselves and at Horton, and the microphone registered the laughter as well as the spoken lines.
"That will never do," interrupted Roy del Ruth, the director, "the comedy in these situations rests mainly in the fact that the people in the scenes are utterly unaware that they are funny." After several rehearsals the cast became familiar enough with the lines and comedy situations to restrain their laughter.
1/5/1930 LAX DIRECTOR PLAYS HIS LITTLE JOKE
If the kiss John Boles gives Bebe Daniels at the fadeout in Rio Rita at the Fox-Carthay Circle Theater had been filmed in its entire length it would have been the longest in screen records.
It happened, not because of a secret romance between the two leading players of the RKO musical comedy, but because director Luther Reed had to have his little joke. When the final scene had been shot to his entire satisfaction Reed silently signaled the cameras to stop grinding and walked off the set, leaving Bebe and Boles in each others' arms, waiting for the order, "Cut," which would have meant the finish of the picture.
Finally, the director, after long moments, gave the necessary order and the players looked around to find the cast, stage hands and technical staff convulsed with laughter.
1/31/1930 EH CANNED FOG USED IN ANNA CHRISTIE
One hundred gallons of canned "fog" were used up in the filming of the waterfront scenes for Anna Christie, Greta Garbo's first talking picture, which is attracting record audiences to the Fox Criterion.
The synthetic fog was created by MGM technicians using a combination of mineral oil sprayed into the atmosphere under pressure with a little steam mixed in for added realism.
In this way the "old Davil sea" is constantly injected into the atmosphere of the scenes of the Eugene O'Neill drama which Clarence Brown directed.
3/5/1930 HDC Doris Denbo
As assistant director working on Raffles with Ronald Colman was looking over candidates for use in the Scotland Yard sequences. "You men won't do at all," he said in disgust. "Why not?" asked Ronald, standing by, "they look like Scotland Yard to me." "But they're not Scotch," scornfully, if respectfully, said the assistant. (Anyway, they told me this happened.) They have imported Lancias, Sunbeams, Peugots, Mercedes, the little Bugatti bug, the Fiat, Hispano Suiza, Benz and Rolls Royces into Hollywood for fashionable scenes for Ronald's picture. They must have wealthy atmosphere for these scenes and what could aid atmosphere more graphically than just such a line-up of cars.
4/1/1930 EE MEXICANS HAVE EBONY TO BURN
Imagine a hotel where even clothes closets are paneled in mahogany. And fancy burning ebony, that priceless black hardwood, to cook morning eggs!
These things happened in view of sixty-three members of the MGM company which has returned from making marine melodrama at the port of Mazatlan, Mexico.
"Forests of mahogany and ebony grow not far from Mazatlan," said director Wesley Ruggles, "and both woods are very cheap indeed. Our mahogany rooms were decidedly striking, but I think we all got our biggest "kick" when a boatload of ebony foundered and blocked the passage of the barge carrying out sound truck! And while we were on an island location several of the Indians cooked their lunch over ebony. I stared at them, remembering what I had paid for a pair of ebony hair brushes!
4/5/1930 EE Behind the Scenes In Hollywood
A large group of extras was standing by for use in scenes on The Devil's Holiday at the Paramount Studios.
Edmund Goulding, author and director of this Nancy Carroll film, cast his eye over the bit players seeking types.
A well-dressed man attracted his attention. He called the man to him.
"Listen," Goulding whispered, "you're all out of character for this mid-western scene. Run over to the wardrobe department and have them fix you up."
The young fellow laughed uproariously.
An embarrassed studio employee stepped forward.
"Mr. Goulding," he stammered, "this is Prince Frederic Leopold of Prussia, nephew of the former Kaiser Wilhelm."
4/18/1930 EH Scouting the Sinema
By Dorothy Herzog
Director Ernst Lubitsch was rehearsing Jack Buchanan, Jeanette MacDonald and other players in his forthcoming Monte Carlo. The players rehearsed in a hall devoted to line reading.
After a time there was silence. Everybody took advantage of the lull to study lines. Suddenly, an exclamation split the silence. It came from Miss MacDonald. Miss MacDonald's face was contorted with rage. She exclaimed a bit more and flounced from the hall.
Investigation followed on the burst of merriment from the remaining players. Reason for Miss MacDonald's flare: She had just been told the hair dresser she wanted was occupied at another studio caring for Kay Francis.
Dear me, the tribulations of the celluloid art...
4/29/1930 HDC Charlie Chaplin Offering May Renew Appeal of Silent Offerings
By Elizabeth Yeaman
Will Charlie Chaplin revolutionize the motion picture industry by partially reviving the silent screen? Will he instigate a renaissance of silent films two short years after Al Jolson plunged the industry into a sea of sound? Some of the strongest adversaries of Chaplin admit that City Lights, the silent comedy which he is making, will probably have a tremendous success. And in conceding the success of this picture, they tacitly acknowledge that there still may be a definite place for silent films. Joseph M. Schenck is interested in the idea, Douglas Fairbanks is frankly enthusiastic, and public approval is all that is needed to swing the pendulum back toward silent pictures.
I had been watching Chaplin directing and acting in a night club scene of City Lights, and the consummate art of his pantomime held me spellbound. Two apache dancers went through the mad violence of a strangling adagio, and when the girl was raised by the neck into the air and flung at Chaplin's feet, he jumped up and kicked her partner in the stomach with a force that sent him sprawling. The extras howled with glee, Chaplin was dragged back to his table by the proprietor, and when he sat down on a balloon that had chanced to float into his chair, he bounded up again in bewildered fright. I found myself joining in the uproar of laughter.
The incidents are stupid in the telling, but when enacted by Chaplin they are irresistible. When I learned the scene had been rehearsed for four days and brought a laugh every time it was repeated, I knew there could be no better advance guarantee of the success of City Lights.
SPECTATOR ENTHUSIASTIC
When Chaplin, perspiring through his make-up, finally took a seat beside me, it was impossible to check my enthusiasm. "You have been the one film actor to defy the dictates of talking pictures," I began, "and when City Lights has been hailed as an epoch-making success, I predict that other producers will make silent films with those actors who are best suited to the medium."
Chaplin smile reflectively, "I hope you are right," came his modest answer, "and this much I can say. A few nights ago Douglas Fairbanks, Joseph M. Schenck and a select group of executives saw four reels of this picture and they were impressed. In fact Fairbanks went so far as to say that he might postpone his plans for a talking picture until he could judge the public reaction to City Lights. Fairbanks, you know, is essentially as much a pantomime actor as myself, and he fears that dialogue will destroy his art.
"There are many kinds of entertainment and as long as a picture fulfills the first requirement of good entertainment, it seems to me that it makes little difference whether the actors speak or remain silent. The medium must be adapted to the art of the individual if the best results are to be obtained. With my gunboat shoes and ludicrous appearance, I should destroy every illusion when I spoke with an English accent. And besides, my art is not gags, but pantomime. As both have their individual place in entertainment, both must have their individual medium.
WANTS WOMEN SILENT
"A woman should never be induced to open her mouth on the screen. She can be a beautiful illusion until she speaks, and then she may sound like an Irish washerwoman. Beautiful pictures should be a wish fulfillment for the public which can find a dream-like satisfaction in a silent picture. But there is no denying that speech destroys that illusion."
Chaplin paused to frame a frank statement, "I realize that if City Lights proves to be a success, I cannot conclude that silent pictures will return to favor. Thousands of people will go to see it out of curiosity to test their reactions to a silent film. Even my bitterest enemies will see it. Not until the following silent picture is released can I determine whether pantomime can hold its own with dialogue.
"Although none of the characters will speak," he continued, "City Lights will have a musical and sound accompaniment. This synchronization will emphasize and heighten the pantomime. For instance, the music in this night club scene will be recorded, and you will hear the balloon burst when I sit on it. In another scene I accidentally swallow a whistle, and when I press my stomach you will hear the whistle. This will be a far better accompaniment than could be given by the orchestras in theaters where the picture is shown. The sound accompaniment has been especially planned and perfectly timed to suit the action. For that reason, City Lights should be better than any of my previous pictures."
When questioned about the story of City Lights, Chaplin was loath to discuss the plot. "There are three main characters," he admitted, "a drunken millionaire, a blind girl and a tramp. They chance to cross each other's paths, and the background of the city with its menace, and its social pressure, has a psychological influence on their actions."
STUDENT OF PSYCHOLOGY
Analyze any of Chaplin's pictures and you will suspect that he is a deep student of psychology. Watch him direct, and you will know it. When he assumes a role, Chaplin interprets his emotions so perfectly that the other actors need only express a natural reaction to him. "When I interfere with the adagio dancers," he calmed directed, "just react naturally by crowding around to see the excitement." Nothing more is needed, for anyone would respond instinctively to his stimulus.
As a director he is as intensely human as he appears on the screen. Between camera calls he entertains the company, jigging, grimacing or exchanging jokes with different members of the cast. This is not a wanton waste of energy, for Chaplin knows that it is necessary to keep his players in the mood of the picture. He realizes that once they have lost the spirit of the scene it will take time to warm them up again.
While we talked Dr. Cecil Reynolds came over to speak to Chaplin. Dr. Reynolds is one of the foremost psychiatrists on the west coast, and in a few moments the two were engaged in a lively argument on psychology. Chaplin held on to one theory while Dr. Reynolds advanced another, and finally the argument was laughingly concluded when Chaplin announced, "In spite of what you believe, doctor, you needn't try to hang any inhibitions on me. The older I get, the less inhibited I become, until I think I would have a hard time finding a single inhibition today."
As Chaplin walked back to the set to resume his work Dr. Reynolds confided that he and Chaplin are discussing plans to produce a play which the doctor has just finished writing. It is a conventional three-act drama in which the action has been based on psychological motivations.
The miracles that Chaplin has achieved in the forty-one short years of his life will always remain one of the most dramatic episodes in the history of man.
STANDS AT PINNACLE
In April, 1930, he stands at the pinnacle of fame in the motion picture industry. In April, 1889, a leading vaudeville theater of London carried the name of Hannah Chaplin as one of the headline attractions. On April 16, a son was born to Hannah and a few nights later she carried the baby out on the stage for his first appearance before an admiring audience. And that son, who was virtually born and brought up on the stage was the Charlie Chaplin the world knows today.
His introduction to the world was cruel. His father, a popular figure in London music halls, died soon after little Charles was born, leaving him and his brother Sydney to the sole support of their mother. But stage folk were paid a mere pittance in those days, and Charlie's boyhood reeked with the poverty and squalor of the London slums. Long before he was old enough to make a living he was forced to roam the streets, a ragged little urchin dancing, tumbling, and grimacing for such pennies as might be thrown his way.
Today he defies the film czars and their allegiance to talking pictures. And the motion picture industry is awakening to the fact that it may learn something from Chaplin.
5/12/1930 EH BARE REAL LIFE TRAGEDIES OF FILM LOTS
San Francisco, May 12.—State Industrial Accident Commission noted that in 1929 16 men were killed on Hollywood lots, 9 were injured permanently and 1272 men and women were hurt enough to require a physician's attention.
Ten of the 16 fatalities occurred during the last 16 fatalities occurred during the last six months of the year and included two actors, two stunt men, one electrician, three carpenters and two laborers.
FALL FROM PLANE
One of the actors rode a horse into a tree, the other fell from a stage coach; the stunt men fell from an airplane, and the other fatalities were caused by collapsing walls or falls from parallels.
Among the very minor accidents reported were some containing terse and pithy light comments by the attending physicians, indicating that actors throw rocks at each other, get "big and strong" and lift trees, and should steer away from horses.
In fact the equine peril was revealed as one of Hollywood's most imminent, 16 thespians falling victims to horse treachery during the year.
7/19/1930 EE Romance On Set Has Code All Its Own
Clarence Brown, script in hand, sat in his canvas director's chair, property men brushed the nap of the old carpet, polished the veneered flooring and fussed with bric-a-brac and tapestries.
At one side of the big stage Lewis Stone walked restlessly to and fro, attired in the mode of 1865 and puffing a 1930 cigaret.
William Daniels, chief cameraman, clamped down the bolts on his aluminum camera perambulator and nodded to Mr. Brown.
"Any time you're ready," he said. At once the human and mechanical systems involved in the intricacies of making a talking picture was set in motion.
Whistles trilled. The set blazed in a deluge of incandescent light. A boy at the panatrope cut off "Happy Days Are Here Again." Buzzers sounded, lights flashed alternately red, green and yellow and sound men talked to one another over hand phones. Up in the glassed-in monitor tower a tousled "head mixer" fidgeted with controls and viewed the panorama below.
"Is that microphone boom going to be up against that wall or does it pan with the camera? Asks a raucous voice from the control-room.
"It doesn't pan until after we go into the second position by the door," a sound technician replied into the hanging microphone.
"Then change it. We get too much bounce off that wall. Put it on the other side!"
There is more moving of booms, cables, switch boxes, chairs and miscellaneous materials scattered about the set.
"How's it now?"
"One-two-three-four-five-six——"
"Okay—leave it—that's fine!"
Mr. Brown peers about anxiously.
"Are we ready to go?" he asks.
"Interlock is ready," assures the sound man.
"Call Miss Garbo," orders Mr. Brown and his assistant runs to her improvised dressing room. Within its flimsy walls is a large mirror, a small dressing table, a curling iron, an electric heater, a chair and a lounge.
"Ready, Miss Garbo!" calls the assistant.
"Coming," she replies.
In a rustle of silks Miss Garbo emerges from that nondescript hut a vision of exquisite charm, a definite personality. Before you are even aware of her physical presence, Greta Garbo, in curls and crinolines, is ready for another scene in her new talking picture, Romance now at Loew's State, an adaptation of the stage play in which Doris Keane starred for six years.
Quietly she takes her place at the tiny table on the set, opposite Mr. Stone, who is bending toward her imploringly.
There is tense stillness, then the players break the silence by action and words.
"You remember Milleflers—the lilacs under your window—the lime trees near the fountain—" Mr. Stone pleads.
Miss Garbo turns an anguished countenance from him and wrings her eloquent hands.
"No-no—dat ees imposs'ble—you do not understan'—she protests.
The pleading continues. They arise and move about the room, followed by the camera and microphone. Minutes tick away as the scene progresses. They reach the door, when Mr. Stone humbly says goodby.
"Okay—cut!" snaps Mr. Brown.
Director, cameraman and technicians look up to the control tower.
The mixer grins, turns his hands with both thumbs sticking up largely.
"Okay for sound," he shouts into his loudspeaker.
"Okay for camera," shouts Daniels.
8/2/1930 EE Movies Borrow a Store From May Company
It was a red-letter day for May Company employees the day MGM borrowed the store to make a motion picture. It was a red-letter day yesterday when the employees had a chance to drop into a theater and see themselves on the screen.
The picture is Our Blushing Brides, Joan Crawford's latest starring vehicle. It is showing at the Criterion Theater, and the cast includes Anita Page, Dorothy Sebastian, Robert Montgomery, Raymond Hackett and John Miljan.
In this film also are what have been described as "palatial country estates and Park Avenue apartments," but the fact that most of the action revolves around a department store and that Harry Beaumont, who did the directing, went out and borrowed a department store caused more interest to the department store employees.
Apparently the original plan had been to build a department store at the studio. It was discovered, however, that department stores require a deal of elbow room and not a few odds and ends of merchandise to make them look properly realistic. They were used to running up palaces and railroad stations, and amphitheaters at the studio, but they hadn't any practice throwing department stores together. So Mr. Beaumont hired the May Company for the occasion.
Along with the store Beaumont engaged its regular personnel as extras. The stipulation was that he could make pictures as soon as possible after closing time on Saturday and continue on Sunday, but had to have the store in its usual shape for the early morning trade the following Monday.
Beaumont rehearsed his principal players in dummy sets at the studio until they were perfect in their roles. And when the time came he moved his sound equipment, lights and cameras, into the store.
Miss Crawford and the others worked side by side with the regular clerks. The customers were hired. Most of the photography was done on Sunday as the weekday downtown noises were too much for the microphones.
8/30/1930 EH NOTHING CHEAP ABOUT HOLIDAY
A multimillionaire in life could not have equipped his mansion with more expensive furnishings than those used by Pathe in the sets showing multimillionaire Seton's home in the picture, Holiday, now in its fourth week at the Carthay Circle Theater. This ultra-smart comedy drama, starring Ann Harding, was directed by E.H. Griffith.
Steve Seymour, in charge of the property room at Pathe gives these figures about the props: the glasses were worth $350 a dozen, probably the most expensive glassware ever used on any moving picture set.
The dining room table boasts of silverware valued at $3,000. There are two crystal chandeliers valued at $2,500 each; two settees $1,400 each; several rugs $3,000 each; two tapestries at $3,500 each; paintings as high as $1,500 each and the luggage used by Ann Harding on her trip is worth about $1,000. All the rest of the furnishings were in keeping.
Supporting Miss Harding are Mary Astor, Robert Ames, Edward Everett Horton, Hedda Hopper, William Holden and Monroe Owsley. E.H. Griffith directed.
Abe Lyman and his orchestra and a Slim Summerville talking comedy complete the program.
8/30/1930 EE Behind the Scenes In Hollywood
By Wood Holly
NOISY INSECT
Tay Garnett stepped into the sound booth to get an idea of how a scene was coming over. Suddenly he came rushing out.
"What's all the racket about?" he shouted.
"There's no racket," said Bob Fellows, his assistant.
"What do you mean no racket?" He held his ears and peered into the booth, whence came pandemonium or something similar.
The microphone man inspected his instrument. "Oh, it's just a fly on the mike," he explained.
"A fly!" exploded Tay. "It sounded like the clatter of cavalry on a tin bridge."
9/6/1930 EE Behind the Scenes In Hollywood
By Wood Holly
THE INTERLOPER
Malamutes resent pretense and sham.
That was established to the satisfaction of an RKO company recently.
Evelyn Brent was driving a dog team for scenes in The Silver Horde. The leading dog had a white face and legs. For photographic purposes, he should be black, it was decided.
With lampback he was "made up" as an entirely black dog. When hitched to the sled, other dogs failed to recognize their leader. A battle royal followed.
The difficulty was overcome by cleaning off the dye and applying it again after the team was hitched to the sled.
9/13/1930 EHE MARIE'S BEST UP SLEEVES
At forty we may creak a bit—
Appear to be all in,
But that's not so—
For wise folks know
Best tunes are played
On an old violin.
"And I'm just beginning to play them," confessed Marie Dressler, while we were speeding toward Los Angeles in her luxurious motor. We were en route from San Pedro, where the writer found Miss Dressler engaged in an interesting episode of her newest MGM picture.
The name has slipped my mind, but it sounded something like Sadie of the Docks. Anyway, Marie has a role similar to her part in Anna Christie, only this time strictly on the water wagon. "It's the high and dry for me," as she expressed it.
Entering "Fish Harbor" where the company was on location, we first came upon several tumbled down saloons, and an old rickety boarding house, where the odor of barracuda, halibut and sea bass filled the air. A little further down the block was visible the hull of an old whaler.
The bay was thick with tiny fishing craft of almost every description. Turning the corner of the alley and continuing along the dock, we found Marie Dressler reclining in front of an old dilapidated "beer joint."
"My, how did you ever acquire that terrible gash on your cheek?" the writer was forced to exclaim as the noted comedienne displayed a jagged cut on the side of her face.
"Oh, that. Why Dorothy Jordan hit me with a curling iron. I'm sorry you missed it. Looks realistic, doesn't it?" she laughed. "Now if I can only get hold of that property man, I'll be fixed in a jiffy. He's the only one around here who can take this awful stuff off."
But in the meanwhile, we talked.
"You might say," declared Marie, "that I fell into the laugh racket. At a very tender age, my father was all of accompanying me to the proverbial woodshed, but my former dancing experience had taught me quick footwork, and I nimbly skipped around the room just out of my father's reach. Objects fell wherever I went; books, vases, etc, all in the path of destruction. But the wicked never come to any good, so I ended the little episode by sprawling headlong on the highly polished hall floor. The fall must have been a scream, because my fond parents just stood there and laughed and laughed. I was a success, and, you might say that I've been falling ever since."
And, we might add, people have been laughing ever since. If you desire proof, attend Let Us Be Gay, in which Marie appears at Loew's State theater this week—.D.W.
9/15/1930 HDC ALL FILM STUDIO DRAMA NOT ACTED BEFORE CAMERAS
By Elizabeth Yeaman
Don't be misled into thinking that the drama of motion picture is all make-believe. If you nursed a black eye and narrowly escaped the aim of a brass cuspidor in the performance of your duty, you would realize that the business of making pictures has its perils as well as its compensations.
You needn't be a slapstick comedian or a stunt actor in order to experience the perils of the film industry. You can be nothing more offensive than a carefully groomed young man in a spacious office with a large glass-topped mahogany desk, and a row of buttons to summon various assistants.
Rex Bailey down on the RKO lots fits this description and he has nursed more than one black eye, dodged the unseemly flight of a brass cuspidor and smiled bravely in the face of ominous threats. Each day more drama is enacted in his office than ever reaches the screen, and it's all due to the fact that he is the casting director.
Every day hundreds and sometimes thousands of extra players beseech him for jobs. Some of them are hungry, and when they are hungry they become desperate. When they find there is no work for them they are liable to leave the casting director with a black eye.
BAD LUCK STORIES
"I suppose I hear more stories of hard luck, illness, and tragedy than any presiding judge," Mr. Bailey remarked. "Some of them I know to be true, but the great majority are fictitious sympathy gags. And hard as it seems, it is my duty to turn a deaf ear to their appeals.
"The problem all boils down to the fact that motion picture studios are not charitable organizations. They must produce pictures at a profit in order to exist, and they must be run on the same principles of any other business organization. The cost of talking pictures is so tremendous that we no longer can employ extras where they are not needed. The expenditures of each department must be kept within definite limits if the cost of the picture is not to exceed the profits.
"When extra players are needed, they must be selected carefully, so that each one will represent the type required for background. If an extra does not have the wardrobe necessary for that type, we cannot employ her no matter how much she needs the work. The personal problems of the extra cannot be permitted to outweigh her professional deficiencies."
Bailey hesitated before continuing. "It may sound cruel, but in the last analysis an extra player is nothing more nor less than a clothes horse. They do not act, they provide only background. And it follows inevitably that the extra who has the most clothes gets the most work, and thereby is able to keep up his or her wardrobe.
"But invariably they will say, ‘why do you give that girl another job when she doesn't need the money and works almost steadily?' I would like to give jobs to all the extras who apply, but if they do not have the clothes we need for a scene they are of no use to us. Their wardrobe is all that interests us."
FEW "IN THE MONEY"
Last year there were only five extra girls who averaged a salary as high as $40 a week. But even this salary is not sufficient to meet the demands of a first class wardrobe unless a girl can do much of her own sewing. And of the 100 girls who rate first class wardrobes, 75 percent are married, which means that they have additional incomes. These are not the girls who need work but they are the ones who qualify for work at the studios.
Among the elderly people who furnish "dress" backgrounds, there are a number of retired people who have income sufficient for their needs. For instance, one man whose appearance has distinguished many a picture, is a retired doctor of 60.
"Talking pictures more than anything else have cut into the demand for extra players," Mr. Bailey continued. "For one thing, the studios are no longer making pictures like Ben Hur in which 2,000 extras were used. Furthermore, the cost of making talking pictures is so enormous that production schedules have been greatly cut down. In the days of silent films, six months often were spent in the making of a big picture. Today, the average production schedule is between 18 and 24 days. Rio Rita was made in 22 days.
"So you see that fewer extras not only are used in pictures today, but when they do get a job it does not last long. I remember when Harold Lloyd made some of his big comedy successes, the director would take perhaps 50 extras out with the principals to work out a sequence. The script would be a very sketchy affair, and it was up to the director to work out his own gags and humorous pantomime. Day after day they would work on a situation, figuring out the best comedy angle. That was typical of all silent pictures, and it meant lots of work for the extras.
DIFFERENT NOW
"But today, the script for a talking picture is complete in every detail. Before a director starts, he knows just what he is going to do, and the biggest scene can be filmed in one morning.
"As a result, hundreds of extras are left without work of any kind. Yet once they have worked in pictures, they will never give up and look for some other employment. There is no future for them, but they are always hoping for a ‘break.' Yet I content that any man or woman who has the personality, the bearing and the clothes to be an extra player, could achieve much bigger things in the business world."
Is the day of the extra passing in Hollywood? Extras are still being used and probably always will be used in limited numbers. But where there were jobs for thousands several years ago, only a few hundred can find work today. But that is not the fault of the casting director.
11/18/1930 EH Harrison Carroll
Returning to Lily Damita, Paramount executives engaged in weighty conferences over the way Gary Cooper must address her in Fighting Caravans.
In one sequence, Cooper leaps from his horse and cries: "Felice!"
When the scene was taken, someone conceived the horrible possibility that audiences might mistake this for "Police!" As a result, the director made another take, in which Gary didn't use the name at all.
The classic mishap of the sort was in Fox's The Black Watch, when Victor McLaglen's pronunciation of the name 'Yasmine' came out of the projection machine as "Yes, Minnie."
....Wallace Beery is in bed with influenza....Marie Dressler, his partner in Min and Bill, also is laid up, with neuritis. Both expect, however, to attend the premiere of the film on Thursday.
12/8/1930 EE POLYGLOT JOB ON MIN AND BILL
Directing a crowd of extras in five languages was the task of George Hill in filming the fishing village scenes of Min and Bill, the current attraction at the Carthay Circle, which stars Marie Dressler and Wallace Beery.
A location at Terminal Island was used and actual fisher folk were employed as extras. The conglomeration of nationalities that made up the colony included Japanese, Danes, Portuguese, Slovaks and even Indians.
Min and Bill, which is enjoying a highly successful engagement, was suggested by Dark Star, the widely read novel by the late Lorna Moon. The picture offers Marie Dressler in her first character role since Anna Christie.
1/26/1931 HDC LOWELL SHERMAN, ACTOR-DIRECTOR, KEEPS ALL HAPPY
By Elizabeth Yeaman
"We'd better take that scene over, Mr. Sherman, because you're not in it," remarked the head cameraman as the lights were dimmed and the cameras stopped grinding.
"Why should I be in it?" demanded Lowell Sherman. "That is Miss Murray's scene and why should I intrude in it?"
This conversation took place on the Radio Pictures' lot where Bachelor Apartment was in production. Sherman had just finished escorting Mae Murray to the door with such genial but determined poise that she exclaimed in surprise. "Do you realize that you are putting me out?" From then on her indignation grew caustic. It was an exciting sequence, but Mae Murray was the only person in front of the camera.
Unimportant as this incident was, it had great significance. For it demonstrated how Lowell Sherman can be the star of a picture and at the same time direct himself and the other members of the cast without creating friction or jealousy.
NO DISSENSION
As he moved about the set quietly and with calm assurance, there was not a ripple of dissension. Not a member of his cast could say that he chose to monopolize the camera. Neither could anyone say that he was not open to suggestion. Occasionally one of the players would say, "How would it be if we worked this scene out this way?" Although the whole play had been carefully rehearsed he would go off in a quiet corner to try the lines in a new way, while the set was being rearranged.
The result of this amazing harmony between the members of the cast and technical crew was complete efficiency. Four scenes were shot in little more than an hour. Anyone who knows anything about talking picture production can testify that this is unusual speed.
2/18/1931 EH Harrison Carroll
Cecil B. DeMille is noted is noted for working his players well into the afternoon before calling lunch.
Last Friday it was nearing 2 o'clock and The Squaw Man company still was making scenes. Finally, Eleanor Boardman pointedly examined her watch.
"I know what happened to C.B. the last time they took him to the hospital," she said. "They took his stomach out."
4/30/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
ON THE SETS
Cadwallader and Jones is not the name of a firm of brokers or realtors. It is the name of a rooster that caused plenty of excitement by a display of temperament during the filming of The Night Angel at the Paramount Long Island studio.
Edmund Goulding, the author and director, two camera men, two prop boys and a group of actors coaxed Cadwallader and Jones for three hours before he would even condescend to notice them. But he would not crow, and that was his part in the picture.
Just about the time they were giving up in despair, some one brought a mirror, and as soon as he saw his reflection, Cadwallader and Jones began a performance that it took another hour to stop.
After that, the company decided that Cadwallader and Jones was too formal a name for him. Now they call him Tom.
***
When a director charges an actor with spoiling a scene, it is not news. But when a director takes the blame, himself, it is.
Paul Stein did it on The Common Law set at RKO-Pathe the other day, and the whole world stopped and marveled.
Constance Bennett and Lew Cody were going through a scene.
"Cut," called Stein. "We'll do it again. I was very bad that time."
"What do you mean, you were bad?" said Miss Bennett with proper amazement.
"Well," said Stein. "I gave the butler his cue too late."
5/30/1931 LAR SO THEY CANCELED HIS SHORE LEAVE
Richard Arlen was ordered to the to the brig of a Pacific fleet battleship several weeks ago by one of the ship's officers.
The Paramount unit filming The Lawyer's Secret was on location at the docks of San Pedro. Arlen was dressed in the sailor costume he wears in the drama.
At lunch time the actor strolled away from the set and passed a naval officer. He was called back and reprimanded for not saluting. Arlen, who was once in the Royal Flying Corps, decided to salute to avoid argument. Unconsciously he gave the English salute, whereupon the officer canceled Arlen's shore leave and ordered him back to his ship to learn how to salute properly.
As the officer signaled the military police to arrest him, Arlen introduced himself and invited the officer to have lunch with him, and attend the showing of The Lawyer's Secret at the Paramount Theater during its current engagement.
7/9/1931 EHE Eileen Percy
On one of the MGM stages I found the United States airplane carrier Saratoga, with three naval planes, all of the officers and the crew. It was just a set, but it looked so real I am sure it could do everything but float. You'll see it in the new MGM special, Hell Divers.
8/17/1931 EE Eileen Percy
Went to visit Richard Dix on the set at the RKO Studio, where he is making Secret Service. Found him patching up his makeup, looking pounds thinner, and I said so, which was just the best thing I could have said, for so pleased was "Rich" he said: "Just for that you may stay for the birthday party the company is giving Jack"—meaning the director, J. Walter Rubin. "It's a surprise for him and each member of the cast has donated 50 cents toward the cake." Just then it was brought in by two prop boys.
That was the cue for Richard to jump up and, and like a child at his first party, start yelling "happy birthday." Of course, Hollywood's new and young director took it big, then immediately started candle counting to see there were not more than 32. That over with, the business of cutting it equally among the 75 co-workers was begun. Needless to say, the first served got the biggest pieces. Dix, on the pretense of diet, refused his portion, but I noticed he was right there to retrieve every small piece that broke off in the cutting. No one was overlooked, but the last man served never knew the cake originally had three layers and a delicious frosting.
10/16/1931 LAR
One of Bing Crosby's flapper fans rushed up to him on the set the other day. It was during the filming of one of his shorts on Mack Sennett's lot.
"Oh, Mr. Crosby! Won't you please sing "Now You're In My Arms" for me?" She gasped.
"Aw....my rheumatism hasn't traveled that far yet," objected the crooner, and he wouldn't.
11/13/1931 HCN Harold Prendergast
An elephant never forgets and neither did Susie Barnes, who is a baby pachyderm herself.
Susie is just another of the many troubles MGM dug up in starting production on the jungle picture, Tarzan. The other day, when the Barnes' circus baby was being transported to Hollywood, her 10-ton perambulator developed brake trouble on a hill near Bakersfield.
Susie thought fast and averted the inevitable abrasions and contusions by promptly pushing out the end of the truck and depositing her unshapely self on the highway, leaving the truck to its own devices in Devil's Gulch.
But the experience seared Susie's unfailing memory—she refused to enter another truck. Try to push a recalcitrant elephant into a truck! They had to tow her behind the vehicle, all the way to Hollywood—and Susie's no race horse.
* * *
Which brings to mind the fact that Marion Davies would brook no studio props for her circus picture, Polly of the Circus. She is taking her entire company to Baldwin Park winter headquarters of the Barnes Circus to complete the opus of the big top.
12/4/1931 LAX Louella O. Parsons
Oo-la, la, la, these French temperaments! Fifi Dorsay on the set for the French version of Maurice Chevalier's picture, One Hour With You for a day, did her regular eye-rolling, hip-shaking stuff. "Won't do at all, Fifi," Ernst Lubitsch told her. "You are to play a grande dame." Now Fifi in her demurest moments couldn't play a grande dame. She is Fifi, bubbling over with laughter, sauciness and gayety. She agreed with Lubitsch she could only be herself so she stepped out of the picture and Lily Damita stepped in. Now Lily can play those naughty, naughty French girls, but she can also be a dignified young lady.
12/4/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
Tarzan, now shooting at MGM, probably is the only picture which ever was held up because a hippopotamus had a toothache.
Hippopotami ordinarily are peaceful, modest beasts, noted for going through life without seeking publicity, notoriety, or anything much but food.
Out on location, a herd of them was quietly wallowing in the water of a little lake when the calm of the outdoors was rent by a frightening yell.
One of the animals was plunging wildly and emitting blasts of sound which resembled a fog-horn with neuralgia.
"What's wrong?" asked director Van Dyke.
"He's in pain," said the trainer.
"Is there such a thing as a hippopotami doctor?" asked Van Dyke.
But a doctor was not needed. The beast dashed from the water, gave the side of his head a thunderous whack on the edge of the bank and out flew a tooth.
It was nearly 7 inches long.
Van Dyke is keeping it as a souvenir.
12/8/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
One of the scenes in Taxi, starring James Cagney and Loretta Young calls for an energetic mix-up between a taxi-cab and a 10-ton truck.
Simple little things like that always are bobbing up in the movies.
Though taxis and 10-ton trucks frequently mix with spectacular effect on the public highways, it is a little harder to get them to do it with real enthusiasm for the camera. They had to be coaxed. And with every try, another cab was put completely out of commission.
Roy Del Ruth, the director, made takes and retakes. And executives stood around and wrung their hands.
Finally one rushed up.
"This has to stop!" he cried.
"There's no danger," Del Ruth assured him. "It looks bad, but I have the drivers completely protected. That's why we are having so much trouble getting the shot."
"This shot must come out!" the executive insisted frantically. "With money so tight, you have to throw it away on dozens of taxis!"
"Hey! We're making money!" the director retorted. "The cab companies paid me to haul away these old jalopies."
"AAAAAh," said the executives with a sudden flair for the crack scintillant. "Go ahead. We shall make this a smash hit, after all."
12/17/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
Tarzan The Ape Man, has been chosen as the release title of the film MGM is making from the Edgar Rice Burroughs story. All of which brings us around to a story they are telling about Johnny Weissmuller who is playing the title role.
The famous swimmer delighted to get members of the troupe all worried during the scenes in which he is seen romping around in a jungle pool. He made a habit of diving in, swimming around under water for as long as a minute at a time, and coming up at some unexpected spot. Then, when he did come up, he made his appearance even more surprising by shooting a stream of water from between his cupped hands. It is one of his tricks. He can send a handful of water, with deadly aim, for several yards.
But the prop man had his revenge, after getting soaked several times. He prepared, with loving care, a nice bucket of cracked ice and water. The next time Weissmuller came above the surface, "Glug" went the whole bucket-full over his head.
Sort of coals-to-Newcastle, but effective.
12/25/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
Efficiency men are not the biggest pets around studios. Supervisors do not take the handpainted cigar as the biggest troublemakers. And even the temperament of the most explosive stars do not cause so much loss to producers as common flies.
Flies are such an important annoyance that many lots maintain official fly-catchers. But, however hard these men may work, their task seems to be a hopeless one.
Studio flies seem to thrive on poisons. They dance merrily out of the way of disinfectant guns. They gaily avoid the deadly swatter. And it is figured that they cost between $5,000 and $10,000 a production in lost time, ruined scenes and labor.
One fly in the microphone sounds like a violently active volcano. Two supply enough noise to pass for the battle of Jutland.
But, worse still, is their habit of picnicking on the powdered noses of fair heroines, right in the middle of a tender love scene.
This serio-comic situation happens hundreds of times during the making of a picture. And nearly always one or the other of the actors says something distinctly not suitable to be heard from the screen.
Flies are attracted to the sets because they are cold and hungry. The lights supply the heat, and they never seem to tire of lunching on makeup.
Next to bigger and better pictures, the crying need of the movie industry is for smaller and fewer flies.
12/28/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
MGM learned about hippopotami from Tarzan.
A whole flock of them were rented for one of the scenes in the jungle story. Great trucks strained out to location with the huge beasts. It was a long dusty ride. The hippopotami looked wistful, worn and worried by the time their destination was reached.
Their keeper was used to them in captivity. He knew that they were gentle, modest beasts. And he did feel sorry for them. So he though it would be a kindly act, and entirely safe, to let them out of the confining cages, to take a little bath in a lake.
It was a safe proceeding.
The hippopotami went straight down to the bottom of the lake, and stayed there for three days, coming up only long enough to gulp a little air.
Pleading, cajolery and harsh words had absolutely no effect upon them. And their very high rental went on and on, skyrocketing into the thousands.
Finally, the baby...weighing 800 pounds...succumbed to some especially succulent leaves, and was persuaded to shore. Its mother followed. The rest followed the mother. And the whole company went to work.
1/21/1932 HCN Elizabeth Yeaman
... There is such a thing as producing too much glitter in a film costume. Miriam Hopkins' silver sequin dress which she wears in Dancers in the Dark, reflects so much light before the cameras that the wardrobe clerk is called to powder it before each scene...
MGM is very much elated over the purchase of a story titled Three Men, which comes from the pen of Arthur Caesar, who is noted as a wit and author of comedy dialogue, has changed to a heavy dramatic theme in this story,, which is destined to co-star John Barrymore and Otto Kruger. At last it would seem that the studio has decided that Kruger is sufficiently groomed for the screen and now he seems to be in line for some real parts. Kruger and Barrymore may be rivals yet, as far as type of portrayals is concerned. For Barrymore, as you know, is to play Kruger's stage role in Universal's production of Counsellor-at-Law.
Three Men is woven about the lives of three boys who grow up together as friends. One boy becomes a governor, another seeks priesthood and becomes a cardinal, while the third becomes a crook. The climax comes when the crook is sentenced to the electric chair and his plea for a pardon goes to the governor, who was a boyhood friend. This story should offer an excellent psychological study.
....
Young Tom Brown is as nice a lad as you will find in the film industry. Freckle-faced and unspoiled by fame, he makes friends wherever he goes. Tom was originally started on his career by Universal. His term contract with that company is expiring, but he does not lack other offers. In fact he will get one of his biggest opportunities at Radio Pictures, where he has been signed for the lead with Dorothy Jordan in Wild Birds. I understand that both Robert Montgomery and Phillips Holmes were tested for this same role which goes to Tom. The story is woven about the romance of an orphan girl on a farm and a boy who runs away from a reformatory.
....
Thelma Todd is the latest addition to the cast of Counselor at Law at Universal. This picture is to have one of the mot pretentious casts that has been assembled of late. With John Barrymore as the star, others will be Bebe Daniels, Isabel Jewell, Onslow Stevens, Doris Kenyon, all of screen fame. Nine members of the original New York stage production also are signed for the picture. They are Vincent Sherman, Conway Washburn, John Qualen, Elmer Brown, Maika Kornstien, Angela Jacobs, Clara Langster, T.H. Manning and Marvin Kline. William Wyler will direct.
....
Darryl Zanuck, I hear, is very much interested in a picture idea which will uncover another racket. Zanuck's greatest claim to fame has been the pictures he produced which exposed various kinds of rackets. He started the expose of the gangster racket at Warners, and although censors opposed the idea, I personally believe it is rather a good thing to show the public, pictorially, the type of underworld life that has developed in this country. The latest racket to be exposed by Zanuck, via Twentieth Century Pictures, is the gambling racket. Games of chance of all kinds will be shown, and Damon Runyon is to write the story. Apparently Zanuck does not expect Hollywood to reform too rapidly, as a result of this picture, since Joseph Schenck, his film partner and backer, is heavily interested in the casino at Agua Caliente. But there's one thing about gamblers–they seldom reform, even though they are told about the uneven odds.
....
Robert Montgomery won't have the lead opposite Connie Bennett in Moulin Rouge after all. This is to be another Twentieth Century production which starts very soon. A deal for the loan of Montgomery was made some time ago, but since the role will require more time than originally anticipated, he will not be available for the part, as he is closely scheduled at MGM. So the studio has offered to lend Franchot Tone for Moulin Rouge instead.
....
Irving Thalberg is definitely committed to a policy of signing up talent under personal contract. His negotiations have now centered on Elissa Landi, who at the moment is at Universal for By Candlelight. There's every probability that Miss Landi will sign up with Thalberg, although no contract has gone through at this writing.
....
Although Charles Laughton is renouncing a large salary to return to England and play Shakespearian roles on the stage at a salary of $100 a week, he is not burning all his bridges behind him in the matter of salary. Paramount today signed him to a new term contract, which will govern his services after Jan. 1, 1934. Meanwhile Laughton will have three months in which to indulge his love for the stage and Shakespeare. Two other new contracts handed out at Paramount will continue the services of Gail Patrick and Roscoe Karns.
Hollywood Sets In the 30's
ABBREVIATIONS
DN — Los Angeles Daily News
EE — Los Angeles Evening Express
EH — Los Angeles Evening Herald
EHE — Los Angeles Evening Herald Express
FD — Film Daily
HCN — Hollywood Citizen News
HDC — Hollywood Daily Citizen
IDN — Los Angeles Illustrated Daily News
LAR — Los Angeles Record
LAPR — Los Angeles Post-Record
LAX — Los Angeles Examiner
MPH — Motion Picture Herald
SFC — San Francisco Chronicle
Note: Film Daily and Motion Picture Herald were film industry professional journals, the information they contained was written for theater owners and managers.
1/4/1930 EE CAST COULDN'T BE SERIOUS
Filming comedy stories has become a rather difficult proposition since talking pictures have become the vogue. In the making of silent motion picture comedies, it didn't matter if the players themselves reacted to the humor of the situation and laughed out loud in a scene.
There was no sensitive microphone to record the sound of their laughter. The camera continued to grind despite the fact that the actors were laughing at their own antics. Vitaphone has changed that.
During the filming of a scene in The Aviator, adapted from the stage hit, now playing at Warner Brothers Hollywood Theater, the dialogue and situations reacted upon the actors, especially in scenes where the "ad libbing" of Edward Everett Horton, who heads the cast, was at its best. They found themselves laughing at themselves and at Horton, and the microphone registered the laughter as well as the spoken lines.
"That will never do," interrupted Roy del Ruth, the director, "the comedy in these situations rests mainly in the fact that the people in the scenes are utterly unaware that they are funny." After several rehearsals the cast became familiar enough with the lines and comedy situations to restrain their laughter.
1/5/1930 LAX DIRECTOR PLAYS HIS LITTLE JOKE
If the kiss John Boles gives Bebe Daniels at the fadeout in Rio Rita at the Fox-Carthay Circle Theater had been filmed in its entire length it would have been the longest in screen records.
It happened, not because of a secret romance between the two leading players of the RKO musical comedy, but because director Luther Reed had to have his little joke. When the final scene had been shot to his entire satisfaction Reed silently signaled the cameras to stop grinding and walked off the set, leaving Bebe and Boles in each others' arms, waiting for the order, "Cut," which would have meant the finish of the picture.
Finally, the director, after long moments, gave the necessary order and the players looked around to find the cast, stage hands and technical staff convulsed with laughter.
1/31/1930 EH CANNED FOG USED IN ANNA CHRISTIE
One hundred gallons of canned "fog" were used up in the filming of the waterfront scenes for Anna Christie, Greta Garbo's first talking picture, which is attracting record audiences to the Fox Criterion.
The synthetic fog was created by MGM technicians using a combination of mineral oil sprayed into the atmosphere under pressure with a little steam mixed in for added realism.
In this way the "old Davil sea" is constantly injected into the atmosphere of the scenes of the Eugene O'Neill drama which Clarence Brown directed.
3/5/1930 HDC Doris Denbo
As assistant director working on Raffles with Ronald Colman was looking over candidates for use in the Scotland Yard sequences. "You men won't do at all," he said in disgust. "Why not?" asked Ronald, standing by, "they look like Scotland Yard to me." "But they're not Scotch," scornfully, if respectfully, said the assistant. (Anyway, they told me this happened.) They have imported Lancias, Sunbeams, Peugots, Mercedes, the little Bugatti bug, the Fiat, Hispano Suiza, Benz and Rolls Royces into Hollywood for fashionable scenes for Ronald's picture. They must have wealthy atmosphere for these scenes and what could aid atmosphere more graphically than just such a line-up of cars.
4/1/1930 EE MEXICANS HAVE EBONY TO BURN
Imagine a hotel where even clothes closets are paneled in mahogany. And fancy burning ebony, that priceless black hardwood, to cook morning eggs!
These things happened in view of sixty-three members of the MGM company which has returned from making marine melodrama at the port of Mazatlan, Mexico.
"Forests of mahogany and ebony grow not far from Mazatlan," said director Wesley Ruggles, "and both woods are very cheap indeed. Our mahogany rooms were decidedly striking, but I think we all got our biggest "kick" when a boatload of ebony foundered and blocked the passage of the barge carrying out sound truck! And while we were on an island location several of the Indians cooked their lunch over ebony. I stared at them, remembering what I had paid for a pair of ebony hair brushes!
4/5/1930 EE Behind the Scenes In Hollywood
A large group of extras was standing by for use in scenes on The Devil's Holiday at the Paramount Studios.
Edmund Goulding, author and director of this Nancy Carroll film, cast his eye over the bit players seeking types.
A well-dressed man attracted his attention. He called the man to him.
"Listen," Goulding whispered, "you're all out of character for this mid-western scene. Run over to the wardrobe department and have them fix you up."
The young fellow laughed uproariously.
An embarrassed studio employee stepped forward.
"Mr. Goulding," he stammered, "this is Prince Frederic Leopold of Prussia, nephew of the former Kaiser Wilhelm."
4/18/1930 EH Scouting the Sinema
By Dorothy Herzog
Director Ernst Lubitsch was rehearsing Jack Buchanan, Jeanette MacDonald and other players in his forthcoming Monte Carlo. The players rehearsed in a hall devoted to line reading.
After a time there was silence. Everybody took advantage of the lull to study lines. Suddenly, an exclamation split the silence. It came from Miss MacDonald. Miss MacDonald's face was contorted with rage. She exclaimed a bit more and flounced from the hall.
Investigation followed on the burst of merriment from the remaining players. Reason for Miss MacDonald's flare: She had just been told the hair dresser she wanted was occupied at another studio caring for Kay Francis.
Dear me, the tribulations of the celluloid art...
4/29/1930 HDC Charlie Chaplin Offering May Renew Appeal of Silent Offerings
By Elizabeth Yeaman
Will Charlie Chaplin revolutionize the motion picture industry by partially reviving the silent screen? Will he instigate a renaissance of silent films two short years after Al Jolson plunged the industry into a sea of sound? Some of the strongest adversaries of Chaplin admit that City Lights, the silent comedy which he is making, will probably have a tremendous success. And in conceding the success of this picture, they tacitly acknowledge that there still may be a definite place for silent films. Joseph M. Schenck is interested in the idea, Douglas Fairbanks is frankly enthusiastic, and public approval is all that is needed to swing the pendulum back toward silent pictures.
I had been watching Chaplin directing and acting in a night club scene of City Lights, and the consummate art of his pantomime held me spellbound. Two apache dancers went through the mad violence of a strangling adagio, and when the girl was raised by the neck into the air and flung at Chaplin's feet, he jumped up and kicked her partner in the stomach with a force that sent him sprawling. The extras howled with glee, Chaplin was dragged back to his table by the proprietor, and when he sat down on a balloon that had chanced to float into his chair, he bounded up again in bewildered fright. I found myself joining in the uproar of laughter.
The incidents are stupid in the telling, but when enacted by Chaplin they are irresistible. When I learned the scene had been rehearsed for four days and brought a laugh every time it was repeated, I knew there could be no better advance guarantee of the success of City Lights.
SPECTATOR ENTHUSIASTIC
When Chaplin, perspiring through his make-up, finally took a seat beside me, it was impossible to check my enthusiasm. "You have been the one film actor to defy the dictates of talking pictures," I began, "and when City Lights has been hailed as an epoch-making success, I predict that other producers will make silent films with those actors who are best suited to the medium."
Chaplin smile reflectively, "I hope you are right," came his modest answer, "and this much I can say. A few nights ago Douglas Fairbanks, Joseph M. Schenck and a select group of executives saw four reels of this picture and they were impressed. In fact Fairbanks went so far as to say that he might postpone his plans for a talking picture until he could judge the public reaction to City Lights. Fairbanks, you know, is essentially as much a pantomime actor as myself, and he fears that dialogue will destroy his art.
"There are many kinds of entertainment and as long as a picture fulfills the first requirement of good entertainment, it seems to me that it makes little difference whether the actors speak or remain silent. The medium must be adapted to the art of the individual if the best results are to be obtained. With my gunboat shoes and ludicrous appearance, I should destroy every illusion when I spoke with an English accent. And besides, my art is not gags, but pantomime. As both have their individual place in entertainment, both must have their individual medium.
WANTS WOMEN SILENT
"A woman should never be induced to open her mouth on the screen. She can be a beautiful illusion until she speaks, and then she may sound like an Irish washerwoman. Beautiful pictures should be a wish fulfillment for the public which can find a dream-like satisfaction in a silent picture. But there is no denying that speech destroys that illusion."
Chaplin paused to frame a frank statement, "I realize that if City Lights proves to be a success, I cannot conclude that silent pictures will return to favor. Thousands of people will go to see it out of curiosity to test their reactions to a silent film. Even my bitterest enemies will see it. Not until the following silent picture is released can I determine whether pantomime can hold its own with dialogue.
"Although none of the characters will speak," he continued, "City Lights will have a musical and sound accompaniment. This synchronization will emphasize and heighten the pantomime. For instance, the music in this night club scene will be recorded, and you will hear the balloon burst when I sit on it. In another scene I accidentally swallow a whistle, and when I press my stomach you will hear the whistle. This will be a far better accompaniment than could be given by the orchestras in theaters where the picture is shown. The sound accompaniment has been especially planned and perfectly timed to suit the action. For that reason, City Lights should be better than any of my previous pictures."
When questioned about the story of City Lights, Chaplin was loath to discuss the plot. "There are three main characters," he admitted, "a drunken millionaire, a blind girl and a tramp. They chance to cross each other's paths, and the background of the city with its menace, and its social pressure, has a psychological influence on their actions."
STUDENT OF PSYCHOLOGY
Analyze any of Chaplin's pictures and you will suspect that he is a deep student of psychology. Watch him direct, and you will know it. When he assumes a role, Chaplin interprets his emotions so perfectly that the other actors need only express a natural reaction to him. "When I interfere with the adagio dancers," he calmed directed, "just react naturally by crowding around to see the excitement." Nothing more is needed, for anyone would respond instinctively to his stimulus.
As a director he is as intensely human as he appears on the screen. Between camera calls he entertains the company, jigging, grimacing or exchanging jokes with different members of the cast. This is not a wanton waste of energy, for Chaplin knows that it is necessary to keep his players in the mood of the picture. He realizes that once they have lost the spirit of the scene it will take time to warm them up again.
While we talked Dr. Cecil Reynolds came over to speak to Chaplin. Dr. Reynolds is one of the foremost psychiatrists on the west coast, and in a few moments the two were engaged in a lively argument on psychology. Chaplin held on to one theory while Dr. Reynolds advanced another, and finally the argument was laughingly concluded when Chaplin announced, "In spite of what you believe, doctor, you needn't try to hang any inhibitions on me. The older I get, the less inhibited I become, until I think I would have a hard time finding a single inhibition today."
As Chaplin walked back to the set to resume his work Dr. Reynolds confided that he and Chaplin are discussing plans to produce a play which the doctor has just finished writing. It is a conventional three-act drama in which the action has been based on psychological motivations.
The miracles that Chaplin has achieved in the forty-one short years of his life will always remain one of the most dramatic episodes in the history of man.
STANDS AT PINNACLE
In April, 1930, he stands at the pinnacle of fame in the motion picture industry. In April, 1889, a leading vaudeville theater of London carried the name of Hannah Chaplin as one of the headline attractions. On April 16, a son was born to Hannah and a few nights later she carried the baby out on the stage for his first appearance before an admiring audience. And that son, who was virtually born and brought up on the stage was the Charlie Chaplin the world knows today.
His introduction to the world was cruel. His father, a popular figure in London music halls, died soon after little Charles was born, leaving him and his brother Sydney to the sole support of their mother. But stage folk were paid a mere pittance in those days, and Charlie's boyhood reeked with the poverty and squalor of the London slums. Long before he was old enough to make a living he was forced to roam the streets, a ragged little urchin dancing, tumbling, and grimacing for such pennies as might be thrown his way.
Today he defies the film czars and their allegiance to talking pictures. And the motion picture industry is awakening to the fact that it may learn something from Chaplin.
5/12/1930 EH BARE REAL LIFE TRAGEDIES OF FILM LOTS
San Francisco, May 12.—State Industrial Accident Commission noted that in 1929 16 men were killed on Hollywood lots, 9 were injured permanently and 1272 men and women were hurt enough to require a physician's attention.
Ten of the 16 fatalities occurred during the last 16 fatalities occurred during the last six months of the year and included two actors, two stunt men, one electrician, three carpenters and two laborers.
FALL FROM PLANE
One of the actors rode a horse into a tree, the other fell from a stage coach; the stunt men fell from an airplane, and the other fatalities were caused by collapsing walls or falls from parallels.
Among the very minor accidents reported were some containing terse and pithy light comments by the attending physicians, indicating that actors throw rocks at each other, get "big and strong" and lift trees, and should steer away from horses.
In fact the equine peril was revealed as one of Hollywood's most imminent, 16 thespians falling victims to horse treachery during the year.
7/19/1930 EE Romance On Set Has Code All Its Own
Clarence Brown, script in hand, sat in his canvas director's chair, property men brushed the nap of the old carpet, polished the veneered flooring and fussed with bric-a-brac and tapestries.
At one side of the big stage Lewis Stone walked restlessly to and fro, attired in the mode of 1865 and puffing a 1930 cigaret.
William Daniels, chief cameraman, clamped down the bolts on his aluminum camera perambulator and nodded to Mr. Brown.
"Any time you're ready," he said. At once the human and mechanical systems involved in the intricacies of making a talking picture was set in motion.
Whistles trilled. The set blazed in a deluge of incandescent light. A boy at the panatrope cut off "Happy Days Are Here Again." Buzzers sounded, lights flashed alternately red, green and yellow and sound men talked to one another over hand phones. Up in the glassed-in monitor tower a tousled "head mixer" fidgeted with controls and viewed the panorama below.
"Is that microphone boom going to be up against that wall or does it pan with the camera? Asks a raucous voice from the control-room.
"It doesn't pan until after we go into the second position by the door," a sound technician replied into the hanging microphone.
"Then change it. We get too much bounce off that wall. Put it on the other side!"
There is more moving of booms, cables, switch boxes, chairs and miscellaneous materials scattered about the set.
"How's it now?"
"One-two-three-four-five-six——"
"Okay—leave it—that's fine!"
Mr. Brown peers about anxiously.
"Are we ready to go?" he asks.
"Interlock is ready," assures the sound man.
"Call Miss Garbo," orders Mr. Brown and his assistant runs to her improvised dressing room. Within its flimsy walls is a large mirror, a small dressing table, a curling iron, an electric heater, a chair and a lounge.
"Ready, Miss Garbo!" calls the assistant.
"Coming," she replies.
In a rustle of silks Miss Garbo emerges from that nondescript hut a vision of exquisite charm, a definite personality. Before you are even aware of her physical presence, Greta Garbo, in curls and crinolines, is ready for another scene in her new talking picture, Romance now at Loew's State, an adaptation of the stage play in which Doris Keane starred for six years.
Quietly she takes her place at the tiny table on the set, opposite Mr. Stone, who is bending toward her imploringly.
There is tense stillness, then the players break the silence by action and words.
"You remember Milleflers—the lilacs under your window—the lime trees near the fountain—" Mr. Stone pleads.
Miss Garbo turns an anguished countenance from him and wrings her eloquent hands.
"No-no—dat ees imposs'ble—you do not understan'—she protests.
The pleading continues. They arise and move about the room, followed by the camera and microphone. Minutes tick away as the scene progresses. They reach the door, when Mr. Stone humbly says goodby.
"Okay—cut!" snaps Mr. Brown.
Director, cameraman and technicians look up to the control tower.
The mixer grins, turns his hands with both thumbs sticking up largely.
"Okay for sound," he shouts into his loudspeaker.
"Okay for camera," shouts Daniels.
8/2/1930 EE Movies Borrow a Store From May Company
It was a red-letter day for May Company employees the day MGM borrowed the store to make a motion picture. It was a red-letter day yesterday when the employees had a chance to drop into a theater and see themselves on the screen.
The picture is Our Blushing Brides, Joan Crawford's latest starring vehicle. It is showing at the Criterion Theater, and the cast includes Anita Page, Dorothy Sebastian, Robert Montgomery, Raymond Hackett and John Miljan.
In this film also are what have been described as "palatial country estates and Park Avenue apartments," but the fact that most of the action revolves around a department store and that Harry Beaumont, who did the directing, went out and borrowed a department store caused more interest to the department store employees.
Apparently the original plan had been to build a department store at the studio. It was discovered, however, that department stores require a deal of elbow room and not a few odds and ends of merchandise to make them look properly realistic. They were used to running up palaces and railroad stations, and amphitheaters at the studio, but they hadn't any practice throwing department stores together. So Mr. Beaumont hired the May Company for the occasion.
Along with the store Beaumont engaged its regular personnel as extras. The stipulation was that he could make pictures as soon as possible after closing time on Saturday and continue on Sunday, but had to have the store in its usual shape for the early morning trade the following Monday.
Beaumont rehearsed his principal players in dummy sets at the studio until they were perfect in their roles. And when the time came he moved his sound equipment, lights and cameras, into the store.
Miss Crawford and the others worked side by side with the regular clerks. The customers were hired. Most of the photography was done on Sunday as the weekday downtown noises were too much for the microphones.
8/30/1930 EH NOTHING CHEAP ABOUT HOLIDAY
A multimillionaire in life could not have equipped his mansion with more expensive furnishings than those used by Pathe in the sets showing multimillionaire Seton's home in the picture, Holiday, now in its fourth week at the Carthay Circle Theater. This ultra-smart comedy drama, starring Ann Harding, was directed by E.H. Griffith.
Steve Seymour, in charge of the property room at Pathe gives these figures about the props: the glasses were worth $350 a dozen, probably the most expensive glassware ever used on any moving picture set.
The dining room table boasts of silverware valued at $3,000. There are two crystal chandeliers valued at $2,500 each; two settees $1,400 each; several rugs $3,000 each; two tapestries at $3,500 each; paintings as high as $1,500 each and the luggage used by Ann Harding on her trip is worth about $1,000. All the rest of the furnishings were in keeping.
Supporting Miss Harding are Mary Astor, Robert Ames, Edward Everett Horton, Hedda Hopper, William Holden and Monroe Owsley. E.H. Griffith directed.
Abe Lyman and his orchestra and a Slim Summerville talking comedy complete the program.
8/30/1930 EE Behind the Scenes In Hollywood
By Wood Holly
NOISY INSECT
Tay Garnett stepped into the sound booth to get an idea of how a scene was coming over. Suddenly he came rushing out.
"What's all the racket about?" he shouted.
"There's no racket," said Bob Fellows, his assistant.
"What do you mean no racket?" He held his ears and peered into the booth, whence came pandemonium or something similar.
The microphone man inspected his instrument. "Oh, it's just a fly on the mike," he explained.
"A fly!" exploded Tay. "It sounded like the clatter of cavalry on a tin bridge."
9/6/1930 EE Behind the Scenes In Hollywood
By Wood Holly
THE INTERLOPER
Malamutes resent pretense and sham.
That was established to the satisfaction of an RKO company recently.
Evelyn Brent was driving a dog team for scenes in The Silver Horde. The leading dog had a white face and legs. For photographic purposes, he should be black, it was decided.
With lampback he was "made up" as an entirely black dog. When hitched to the sled, other dogs failed to recognize their leader. A battle royal followed.
The difficulty was overcome by cleaning off the dye and applying it again after the team was hitched to the sled.
9/13/1930 EHE MARIE'S BEST UP SLEEVES
At forty we may creak a bit—
Appear to be all in,
But that's not so—
For wise folks know
Best tunes are played
On an old violin.
"And I'm just beginning to play them," confessed Marie Dressler, while we were speeding toward Los Angeles in her luxurious motor. We were en route from San Pedro, where the writer found Miss Dressler engaged in an interesting episode of her newest MGM picture.
The name has slipped my mind, but it sounded something like Sadie of the Docks. Anyway, Marie has a role similar to her part in Anna Christie, only this time strictly on the water wagon. "It's the high and dry for me," as she expressed it.
Entering "Fish Harbor" where the company was on location, we first came upon several tumbled down saloons, and an old rickety boarding house, where the odor of barracuda, halibut and sea bass filled the air. A little further down the block was visible the hull of an old whaler.
The bay was thick with tiny fishing craft of almost every description. Turning the corner of the alley and continuing along the dock, we found Marie Dressler reclining in front of an old dilapidated "beer joint."
"My, how did you ever acquire that terrible gash on your cheek?" the writer was forced to exclaim as the noted comedienne displayed a jagged cut on the side of her face.
"Oh, that. Why Dorothy Jordan hit me with a curling iron. I'm sorry you missed it. Looks realistic, doesn't it?" she laughed. "Now if I can only get hold of that property man, I'll be fixed in a jiffy. He's the only one around here who can take this awful stuff off."
But in the meanwhile, we talked.
"You might say," declared Marie, "that I fell into the laugh racket. At a very tender age, my father was all of accompanying me to the proverbial woodshed, but my former dancing experience had taught me quick footwork, and I nimbly skipped around the room just out of my father's reach. Objects fell wherever I went; books, vases, etc, all in the path of destruction. But the wicked never come to any good, so I ended the little episode by sprawling headlong on the highly polished hall floor. The fall must have been a scream, because my fond parents just stood there and laughed and laughed. I was a success, and, you might say that I've been falling ever since."
And, we might add, people have been laughing ever since. If you desire proof, attend Let Us Be Gay, in which Marie appears at Loew's State theater this week—.D.W.
9/15/1930 HDC ALL FILM STUDIO DRAMA NOT ACTED BEFORE CAMERAS
By Elizabeth Yeaman
Don't be misled into thinking that the drama of motion picture is all make-believe. If you nursed a black eye and narrowly escaped the aim of a brass cuspidor in the performance of your duty, you would realize that the business of making pictures has its perils as well as its compensations.
You needn't be a slapstick comedian or a stunt actor in order to experience the perils of the film industry. You can be nothing more offensive than a carefully groomed young man in a spacious office with a large glass-topped mahogany desk, and a row of buttons to summon various assistants.
Rex Bailey down on the RKO lots fits this description and he has nursed more than one black eye, dodged the unseemly flight of a brass cuspidor and smiled bravely in the face of ominous threats. Each day more drama is enacted in his office than ever reaches the screen, and it's all due to the fact that he is the casting director.
Every day hundreds and sometimes thousands of extra players beseech him for jobs. Some of them are hungry, and when they are hungry they become desperate. When they find there is no work for them they are liable to leave the casting director with a black eye.
BAD LUCK STORIES
"I suppose I hear more stories of hard luck, illness, and tragedy than any presiding judge," Mr. Bailey remarked. "Some of them I know to be true, but the great majority are fictitious sympathy gags. And hard as it seems, it is my duty to turn a deaf ear to their appeals.
"The problem all boils down to the fact that motion picture studios are not charitable organizations. They must produce pictures at a profit in order to exist, and they must be run on the same principles of any other business organization. The cost of talking pictures is so tremendous that we no longer can employ extras where they are not needed. The expenditures of each department must be kept within definite limits if the cost of the picture is not to exceed the profits.
"When extra players are needed, they must be selected carefully, so that each one will represent the type required for background. If an extra does not have the wardrobe necessary for that type, we cannot employ her no matter how much she needs the work. The personal problems of the extra cannot be permitted to outweigh her professional deficiencies."
Bailey hesitated before continuing. "It may sound cruel, but in the last analysis an extra player is nothing more nor less than a clothes horse. They do not act, they provide only background. And it follows inevitably that the extra who has the most clothes gets the most work, and thereby is able to keep up his or her wardrobe.
"But invariably they will say, ‘why do you give that girl another job when she doesn't need the money and works almost steadily?' I would like to give jobs to all the extras who apply, but if they do not have the clothes we need for a scene they are of no use to us. Their wardrobe is all that interests us."
FEW "IN THE MONEY"
Last year there were only five extra girls who averaged a salary as high as $40 a week. But even this salary is not sufficient to meet the demands of a first class wardrobe unless a girl can do much of her own sewing. And of the 100 girls who rate first class wardrobes, 75 percent are married, which means that they have additional incomes. These are not the girls who need work but they are the ones who qualify for work at the studios.
Among the elderly people who furnish "dress" backgrounds, there are a number of retired people who have income sufficient for their needs. For instance, one man whose appearance has distinguished many a picture, is a retired doctor of 60.
"Talking pictures more than anything else have cut into the demand for extra players," Mr. Bailey continued. "For one thing, the studios are no longer making pictures like Ben Hur in which 2,000 extras were used. Furthermore, the cost of making talking pictures is so enormous that production schedules have been greatly cut down. In the days of silent films, six months often were spent in the making of a big picture. Today, the average production schedule is between 18 and 24 days. Rio Rita was made in 22 days.
"So you see that fewer extras not only are used in pictures today, but when they do get a job it does not last long. I remember when Harold Lloyd made some of his big comedy successes, the director would take perhaps 50 extras out with the principals to work out a sequence. The script would be a very sketchy affair, and it was up to the director to work out his own gags and humorous pantomime. Day after day they would work on a situation, figuring out the best comedy angle. That was typical of all silent pictures, and it meant lots of work for the extras.
DIFFERENT NOW
"But today, the script for a talking picture is complete in every detail. Before a director starts, he knows just what he is going to do, and the biggest scene can be filmed in one morning.
"As a result, hundreds of extras are left without work of any kind. Yet once they have worked in pictures, they will never give up and look for some other employment. There is no future for them, but they are always hoping for a ‘break.' Yet I content that any man or woman who has the personality, the bearing and the clothes to be an extra player, could achieve much bigger things in the business world."
Is the day of the extra passing in Hollywood? Extras are still being used and probably always will be used in limited numbers. But where there were jobs for thousands several years ago, only a few hundred can find work today. But that is not the fault of the casting director.
11/18/1930 EH Harrison Carroll
Returning to Lily Damita, Paramount executives engaged in weighty conferences over the way Gary Cooper must address her in Fighting Caravans.
In one sequence, Cooper leaps from his horse and cries: "Felice!"
When the scene was taken, someone conceived the horrible possibility that audiences might mistake this for "Police!" As a result, the director made another take, in which Gary didn't use the name at all.
The classic mishap of the sort was in Fox's The Black Watch, when Victor McLaglen's pronunciation of the name 'Yasmine' came out of the projection machine as "Yes, Minnie."
....Wallace Beery is in bed with influenza....Marie Dressler, his partner in Min and Bill, also is laid up, with neuritis. Both expect, however, to attend the premiere of the film on Thursday.
12/8/1930 EE POLYGLOT JOB ON MIN AND BILL
Directing a crowd of extras in five languages was the task of George Hill in filming the fishing village scenes of Min and Bill, the current attraction at the Carthay Circle, which stars Marie Dressler and Wallace Beery.
A location at Terminal Island was used and actual fisher folk were employed as extras. The conglomeration of nationalities that made up the colony included Japanese, Danes, Portuguese, Slovaks and even Indians.
Min and Bill, which is enjoying a highly successful engagement, was suggested by Dark Star, the widely read novel by the late Lorna Moon. The picture offers Marie Dressler in her first character role since Anna Christie.
1/26/1931 HDC LOWELL SHERMAN, ACTOR-DIRECTOR, KEEPS ALL HAPPY
By Elizabeth Yeaman
"We'd better take that scene over, Mr. Sherman, because you're not in it," remarked the head cameraman as the lights were dimmed and the cameras stopped grinding.
"Why should I be in it?" demanded Lowell Sherman. "That is Miss Murray's scene and why should I intrude in it?"
This conversation took place on the Radio Pictures' lot where Bachelor Apartment was in production. Sherman had just finished escorting Mae Murray to the door with such genial but determined poise that she exclaimed in surprise. "Do you realize that you are putting me out?" From then on her indignation grew caustic. It was an exciting sequence, but Mae Murray was the only person in front of the camera.
Unimportant as this incident was, it had great significance. For it demonstrated how Lowell Sherman can be the star of a picture and at the same time direct himself and the other members of the cast without creating friction or jealousy.
NO DISSENSION
As he moved about the set quietly and with calm assurance, there was not a ripple of dissension. Not a member of his cast could say that he chose to monopolize the camera. Neither could anyone say that he was not open to suggestion. Occasionally one of the players would say, "How would it be if we worked this scene out this way?" Although the whole play had been carefully rehearsed he would go off in a quiet corner to try the lines in a new way, while the set was being rearranged.
The result of this amazing harmony between the members of the cast and technical crew was complete efficiency. Four scenes were shot in little more than an hour. Anyone who knows anything about talking picture production can testify that this is unusual speed.
2/18/1931 EH Harrison Carroll
Cecil B. DeMille is noted is noted for working his players well into the afternoon before calling lunch.
Last Friday it was nearing 2 o'clock and The Squaw Man company still was making scenes. Finally, Eleanor Boardman pointedly examined her watch.
"I know what happened to C.B. the last time they took him to the hospital," she said. "They took his stomach out."
4/30/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
ON THE SETS
Cadwallader and Jones is not the name of a firm of brokers or realtors. It is the name of a rooster that caused plenty of excitement by a display of temperament during the filming of The Night Angel at the Paramount Long Island studio.
Edmund Goulding, the author and director, two camera men, two prop boys and a group of actors coaxed Cadwallader and Jones for three hours before he would even condescend to notice them. But he would not crow, and that was his part in the picture.
Just about the time they were giving up in despair, some one brought a mirror, and as soon as he saw his reflection, Cadwallader and Jones began a performance that it took another hour to stop.
After that, the company decided that Cadwallader and Jones was too formal a name for him. Now they call him Tom.
***
When a director charges an actor with spoiling a scene, it is not news. But when a director takes the blame, himself, it is.
Paul Stein did it on The Common Law set at RKO-Pathe the other day, and the whole world stopped and marveled.
Constance Bennett and Lew Cody were going through a scene.
"Cut," called Stein. "We'll do it again. I was very bad that time."
"What do you mean, you were bad?" said Miss Bennett with proper amazement.
"Well," said Stein. "I gave the butler his cue too late."
5/30/1931 LAR SO THEY CANCELED HIS SHORE LEAVE
Richard Arlen was ordered to the to the brig of a Pacific fleet battleship several weeks ago by one of the ship's officers.
The Paramount unit filming The Lawyer's Secret was on location at the docks of San Pedro. Arlen was dressed in the sailor costume he wears in the drama.
At lunch time the actor strolled away from the set and passed a naval officer. He was called back and reprimanded for not saluting. Arlen, who was once in the Royal Flying Corps, decided to salute to avoid argument. Unconsciously he gave the English salute, whereupon the officer canceled Arlen's shore leave and ordered him back to his ship to learn how to salute properly.
As the officer signaled the military police to arrest him, Arlen introduced himself and invited the officer to have lunch with him, and attend the showing of The Lawyer's Secret at the Paramount Theater during its current engagement.
7/9/1931 EHE Eileen Percy
On one of the MGM stages I found the United States airplane carrier Saratoga, with three naval planes, all of the officers and the crew. It was just a set, but it looked so real I am sure it could do everything but float. You'll see it in the new MGM special, Hell Divers.
8/17/1931 EE Eileen Percy
Went to visit Richard Dix on the set at the RKO Studio, where he is making Secret Service. Found him patching up his makeup, looking pounds thinner, and I said so, which was just the best thing I could have said, for so pleased was "Rich" he said: "Just for that you may stay for the birthday party the company is giving Jack"—meaning the director, J. Walter Rubin. "It's a surprise for him and each member of the cast has donated 50 cents toward the cake." Just then it was brought in by two prop boys.
That was the cue for Richard to jump up and, and like a child at his first party, start yelling "happy birthday." Of course, Hollywood's new and young director took it big, then immediately started candle counting to see there were not more than 32. That over with, the business of cutting it equally among the 75 co-workers was begun. Needless to say, the first served got the biggest pieces. Dix, on the pretense of diet, refused his portion, but I noticed he was right there to retrieve every small piece that broke off in the cutting. No one was overlooked, but the last man served never knew the cake originally had three layers and a delicious frosting.
10/16/1931 LAR
One of Bing Crosby's flapper fans rushed up to him on the set the other day. It was during the filming of one of his shorts on Mack Sennett's lot.
"Oh, Mr. Crosby! Won't you please sing "Now You're In My Arms" for me?" She gasped.
"Aw....my rheumatism hasn't traveled that far yet," objected the crooner, and he wouldn't.
11/13/1931 HCN Harold Prendergast
An elephant never forgets and neither did Susie Barnes, who is a baby pachyderm herself.
Susie is just another of the many troubles MGM dug up in starting production on the jungle picture, Tarzan. The other day, when the Barnes' circus baby was being transported to Hollywood, her 10-ton perambulator developed brake trouble on a hill near Bakersfield.
Susie thought fast and averted the inevitable abrasions and contusions by promptly pushing out the end of the truck and depositing her unshapely self on the highway, leaving the truck to its own devices in Devil's Gulch.
But the experience seared Susie's unfailing memory—she refused to enter another truck. Try to push a recalcitrant elephant into a truck! They had to tow her behind the vehicle, all the way to Hollywood—and Susie's no race horse.
* * *
Which brings to mind the fact that Marion Davies would brook no studio props for her circus picture, Polly of the Circus. She is taking her entire company to Baldwin Park winter headquarters of the Barnes Circus to complete the opus of the big top.
12/4/1931 LAX Louella O. Parsons
Oo-la, la, la, these French temperaments! Fifi Dorsay on the set for the French version of Maurice Chevalier's picture, One Hour With You for a day, did her regular eye-rolling, hip-shaking stuff. "Won't do at all, Fifi," Ernst Lubitsch told her. "You are to play a grande dame." Now Fifi in her demurest moments couldn't play a grande dame. She is Fifi, bubbling over with laughter, sauciness and gayety. She agreed with Lubitsch she could only be herself so she stepped out of the picture and Lily Damita stepped in. Now Lily can play those naughty, naughty French girls, but she can also be a dignified young lady.
12/4/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
Tarzan, now shooting at MGM, probably is the only picture which ever was held up because a hippopotamus had a toothache.
Hippopotami ordinarily are peaceful, modest beasts, noted for going through life without seeking publicity, notoriety, or anything much but food.
Out on location, a herd of them was quietly wallowing in the water of a little lake when the calm of the outdoors was rent by a frightening yell.
One of the animals was plunging wildly and emitting blasts of sound which resembled a fog-horn with neuralgia.
"What's wrong?" asked director Van Dyke.
"He's in pain," said the trainer.
"Is there such a thing as a hippopotami doctor?" asked Van Dyke.
But a doctor was not needed. The beast dashed from the water, gave the side of his head a thunderous whack on the edge of the bank and out flew a tooth.
It was nearly 7 inches long.
Van Dyke is keeping it as a souvenir.
12/8/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
One of the scenes in Taxi, starring James Cagney and Loretta Young calls for an energetic mix-up between a taxi-cab and a 10-ton truck.
Simple little things like that always are bobbing up in the movies.
Though taxis and 10-ton trucks frequently mix with spectacular effect on the public highways, it is a little harder to get them to do it with real enthusiasm for the camera. They had to be coaxed. And with every try, another cab was put completely out of commission.
Roy Del Ruth, the director, made takes and retakes. And executives stood around and wrung their hands.
Finally one rushed up.
"This has to stop!" he cried.
"There's no danger," Del Ruth assured him. "It looks bad, but I have the drivers completely protected. That's why we are having so much trouble getting the shot."
"This shot must come out!" the executive insisted frantically. "With money so tight, you have to throw it away on dozens of taxis!"
"Hey! We're making money!" the director retorted. "The cab companies paid me to haul away these old jalopies."
"AAAAAh," said the executives with a sudden flair for the crack scintillant. "Go ahead. We shall make this a smash hit, after all."
12/17/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
Tarzan The Ape Man, has been chosen as the release title of the film MGM is making from the Edgar Rice Burroughs story. All of which brings us around to a story they are telling about Johnny Weissmuller who is playing the title role.
The famous swimmer delighted to get members of the troupe all worried during the scenes in which he is seen romping around in a jungle pool. He made a habit of diving in, swimming around under water for as long as a minute at a time, and coming up at some unexpected spot. Then, when he did come up, he made his appearance even more surprising by shooting a stream of water from between his cupped hands. It is one of his tricks. He can send a handful of water, with deadly aim, for several yards.
But the prop man had his revenge, after getting soaked several times. He prepared, with loving care, a nice bucket of cracked ice and water. The next time Weissmuller came above the surface, "Glug" went the whole bucket-full over his head.
Sort of coals-to-Newcastle, but effective.
12/25/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
Efficiency men are not the biggest pets around studios. Supervisors do not take the handpainted cigar as the biggest troublemakers. And even the temperament of the most explosive stars do not cause so much loss to producers as common flies.
Flies are such an important annoyance that many lots maintain official fly-catchers. But, however hard these men may work, their task seems to be a hopeless one.
Studio flies seem to thrive on poisons. They dance merrily out of the way of disinfectant guns. They gaily avoid the deadly swatter. And it is figured that they cost between $5,000 and $10,000 a production in lost time, ruined scenes and labor.
One fly in the microphone sounds like a violently active volcano. Two supply enough noise to pass for the battle of Jutland.
But, worse still, is their habit of picnicking on the powdered noses of fair heroines, right in the middle of a tender love scene.
This serio-comic situation happens hundreds of times during the making of a picture. And nearly always one or the other of the actors says something distinctly not suitable to be heard from the screen.
Flies are attracted to the sets because they are cold and hungry. The lights supply the heat, and they never seem to tire of lunching on makeup.
Next to bigger and better pictures, the crying need of the movie industry is for smaller and fewer flies.
12/28/1931 LAR Llewellyn Miller
MGM learned about hippopotami from Tarzan.
A whole flock of them were rented for one of the scenes in the jungle story. Great trucks strained out to location with the huge beasts. It was a long dusty ride. The hippopotami looked wistful, worn and worried by the time their destination was reached.
Their keeper was used to them in captivity. He knew that they were gentle, modest beasts. And he did feel sorry for them. So he though it would be a kindly act, and entirely safe, to let them out of the confining cages, to take a little bath in a lake.
It was a safe proceeding.
The hippopotami went straight down to the bottom of the lake, and stayed there for three days, coming up only long enough to gulp a little air.
Pleading, cajolery and harsh words had absolutely no effect upon them. And their very high rental went on and on, skyrocketing into the thousands.
Finally, the baby...weighing 800 pounds...succumbed to some especially succulent leaves, and was persuaded to shore. Its mother followed. The rest followed the mother. And the whole company went to work.
1/21/1932 HCN Elizabeth Yeaman
... There is such a thing as producing too much glitter in a film costume. Miriam Hopkins' silver sequin dress which she wears in Dancers in the Dark, reflects so much light before the cameras that the wardrobe clerk is called to powder it before each scene...
Labels: Charles Laughton, Elissa Landi, John Barrymore, Thelma Todd
posted by GDH at 8:06 AM
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