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Job Hunting in Hollywood
A Real Hero And Nix On Brains BY LOUISE GALLAGHER
THERE are unsung heroes in every walk of life, but here is one in the motion picture world that deserves a medal.
It was 20 minutes to 12, and the hearts of 150 extra players on a big carnival street set beat high with hope. Surely the director could never finish now by 12 o’clock, which is the hour that marks the half day period for an actor who checks in on a set at 8 o’clock. The scenes in which they were in had followed each other too rapidly to suit the old experienced players who feared this might mean only a half day check. Work had been slack in mobbing and street circles and this class of actor who never earns more than $5 a day, had been having long waits between jobs.
We had come over from our set across the way to watch the scene as one of the electricians had told us there was a young man who danced a wicked apache. The director and his numerous assistants buzzed about like bees, intent upon getting the scene over quickly for to finish with 150 in half a day, thereby saving some $300 or $400 on production, meant a chalk mark to their credit.
“Just one more shot now, Everyone happy and gay. Here, you apache dancer, when that woman starts across the street with the heavy basket of dishes, dance up, take them and carry them across the street for her.
Ready now! camera.”
The dancer caught his signal promptly, took the basket and started across. In some way he lost his balance when right in the middle of the street, wobbled uncertainly for a second and then over went the basket with a crash, scattering broken dishes in every direction. The cameras and big lights snapped off even before the megaphone bellowed out the order. Were the director and his assistant mad? They did a regular war dance. Prop men rushed out to round up more dishes, but none were available closer than the big store room a block away. As the dancer, a wicked looking underworld thug, hurried to get away from the abuse of the director, he threw a moronish smile at his fellow workers. “Sure, he has a heart of gold, that chap,” one old lady murmurred, “he just knew what a full day’s pay check meant for all of us these hard days.”
At luncheon the director, who was a brother of one of the girls with me, came over to our table. He had quite recovered from the disappointment of not finishing with his big mob in half a day and was rather inclined to look upon it as a joke on himself. “Might have known it was bad business to let them know I was on the windup, when it lacked such a few minutes of being 12 o’clock. Did you see how well he stated his fall, right in the foreground where it was bound to mess things up? That young devil has too good a brain to stay long in the work he is doing. He will go in for bootlegging or bank robbing and earn real money one of these days soon.”
Improved Conditions
Working conditions at the studios are to be much improved for the future. No lesser light in the business end of the industry than Joseph Schenck, himself, has come out in defense of the overworked actor. The Motion Picture Producers’ Association of which he is the president, has insured an edict that there is to be no overworking of players in order to make a record for quick production. Actors have felt keenly the injustice of having to work 12 to 15 hours on a set when this condition was often the result of mismanagement and could be avoided or was for the sole purpose of building up a reputation for quick work for •some director. Mr. Schenck has asked the actors to report to his association for investigation any overwork that is unwarranted or where overtime is not allowed. It is hardly probable that an actor unless very well known in the business would . dare to take advantage of this for fear of getting in bad at a studio but good result will come about by the directors, knowing that a check-up on their work may take place any time.
The only really bad experience I have had in working long hours was last Spring when I played a few week with a small independent company. For three days and nights we had only four hours a day rest, from 4:30 in the morning until 8:30. We were so tired that between scenes we just fell asleep on any chair or bench we could find. It is enough to cure forever anay film struck youth to have a prop man roughly awaken you from a much needed nap and hustle on under the strongest possible arc lights when you eyes are still heavy and your muscles still. There is nothing funny to film folks in being seen coming in with the milkman. It is too often just a necessary trip from the studio to their home for a bath and change of costume. The men may be able to get some sleep in the three or four hours before having to be back on the set but for the girls no such luxury can be indulged in. There are clothes to be pressed and sometimes remodeled, hair that must be properly curled and made look the best possible and numerous other little things that take up the few hours allowed to rest. Nearly everyone in pictures owns his or her own car, otherwise if they must depend upon the street cars they must allow about an hour and a half to get to many of the studios that are out a distance from Hollywood and the street car connection to which is very poor.
The Very First.
I have had a real step upward since I wrote you last. I am playing in my first drama and feeling very upstage and Ritzy over it. In “The Prude,” starring Evelyn Brent, I have the young flapper part, a comedy-drama role that seems to suit me beautifully. Miss Brent is very pretty in an oriental way and a most agreeable person to work with. As for the director he is a peach. Explains so clearly to you what you are to do before you go before the camera that it makes it very easy. 1 was a little upset the first scene 1 tried to put over when he stopped the cameras quickly and called me over to him. “You have been playing in straight comedy only, haven’t you now? You are registering ever gesture too fast. Just keep in mind that drama, even comedy-drama, is two tempos slower than straight comedy. This is not nearly so difficult as what you have been doing for comedy is the hardest think to get over. Comedy is two degrees faster than normal, drama and tragedy who or more degrees slower than normal.”
1 have had no trouble pleasing the director in the part and am enjoying the work more than anything I have done so far. Yesterday we had in addition to our regular cast of 10 players, about 20 others brought on for a country club and drawing room scene. 1 haven’t had time since coming here to give much attention to the social side of life in the movies off sets, but 1 want to tell you that for the first time 1 just stood still and stared at a man with my best vampish look. Handsome-well, wasn’t he though! Valentino and the prince of Wales wouldn’t get a glance with him around. He could just walk off with a beauty prize under their very nose. Evidently the director fell for him as much as I did. “Have you noticed that perfect Adonis we have with us today? I am going to let him have a dance with you right in the foreground, have Harold register jealousy and the handsome thing resent it by walking off with you.”
I was all thrilled over it, but never again will I fall in love at first sight with anyone in the profession without first ascertaining how they register affection. Girls, under that marvelous blond hair of his was nothing but a Grand Canyon filled with light air. He simply could not act. The director tried the scene over twice, giving him directions that any child should be able to follow but it was just no use. Mr. Adonis was not in the least embarrassed over it. He had said in the beginning he doubted if he could do it and when the director agreed with him, he took it as a matter of course. As the part was not in the script anyway, it was just cut out. I talked with the handsome thing later and learned that he has been in pictures for nine years and is 30 now. During that whole time has never gotten beyond the extra class, and yet never has he gone on a set where a director did not know him that he has not been picked out to do some little part on account of his looks. He screens wonderfully and time and again has been picked from the extras in some big picture and offered a chance to do something better. He accepts everything that comes his way, and lets the director find out for themselves that he just can’t act. His brain just won’t take directions. He might just as well be a painted figure for all the expression it is possible to bring to his face.
“I never need to worry about a job though, that’s one good thing. I am too good looking. I have only what I earn in pictures, but it is seldom I make less than $50 a week. I couldn’t do that at anything else. I’d possibly starve in the business world. I am not jealous when I see other chaps walking away with something that has been offered to me. I know no matter how hard I try, I could never do it. It took me six months to get through my head that I must pull out the chair for a lady when dining with her. Elinor Glynn saw me once and didn’t sleep for three days, but when she met me she decided I was doing the only thing possible in my case.”
He reminded me of some of the lavish scenery you see on expensive sets. Beautiful to look at from the outside, but back behind only a thin painted canvas of nothing.
