Practical Cinematography and Its Applications

by Frederick Arthur Ambrose Talbot

The desire of the photo-play producer to encourage unknown writers has led to the inevitable result. He is inundated with plots and suggestions of every description, written by every type of man, woman, and child. Needless to say, a large proportion of the submitted contributions are wildly impossible, or contain plots which have been worn so thread-bare that there is no possible chance of dressing them in a new guise. Fortunately the task of sifting the wheat from the chaff is not exacting. A hurried scan of the opening lines generally suffices to show whether the subject is excellent, passable, or hopeless.

Picture-play writing is an art, science, or whatever one likes to call it, which can be cultivated. The average person, at some time or other, is sure to have an idea—it may be an idle fleeting thought—which is capable of being turned to useful account. The picture-play producer knows this very well, and accordingly holds out every inducement in the hope that sooner or later he may light upon something brilliant. A suggestion need only have some small germ of possibility, but the producer, from his experience of the theatre, and of the requirements of the picture palace, can take that germ and evolve it in the most effective manner.

Under these circumstances the question arises "How should a photo-play be prepared?" While there is no golden rule, and while each producer works in his own way, it is possible to give a few hints to the beginner. A glance at the manuscript is enough to inform the reader whether the author is a raw hand at the work or otherwise, and although every manuscript is reviewed, more interested attention is attracted by a contribution which is set out upon more or less methodical lines.

In the first place it is just as well to remember that the photo-play producer of to-day is a man of wide experience. In most cases he has graduated upon the stage, and has probably passed through all the phases between a touring company and a well-known theatre. As a result of this drilling he will have assumed a wide perspective. Sheer ability will have brought him to the control of the cinema-studio stage, where the work is most exacting, and where there is a very great demand for ingenuity and resource. Having mastered the intricacies and possibilities of the photo-play stage, and what can be done by photography, he will be a thorough master of craft. The greater number of the play-producers retained by the foremost firms are men who climbed to the top rung in the theatrical profession and merely went over to the motion-picture studio because it offered them greater scope for their prowess and knowledge. Indeed, one might go so far as to say that, unless a man has served his apprenticeship behind the footlights, he is an indifferent play-producer, because he will be ignorant of stage-craft and the technique of the profession.

A man of such experience and ability is able to sum up the value of a plot in an instant. Consequently the author is well advised to condense his plot into as few words as possible—the briefer the outline the better. In some instances it is not even necessary to indicate the characters, the period, or the scene. The plot is the only thing that is wanted: the producer, as he reads it, will conjure up in his mind the period, environment, atmosphere, and characters, wherewith such and such a story may best be worked out.

There is one well-known Continental producer who never asks for more than a bald statement of the plot. If it can be conveyed in six lines he is more than satisfied. On one occasion, while seated at lunch, one of the party jestingly suggested an idea. Without a word of comment the producer scribbled the suggestion upon the back of an envelope. Returning to the studio an hour or so later, he handed a note to one of his staff, indicated how he would like it worked out, the colleague fitted in the characters, evolved the scenes, period, and situations, and the next morning the play was staged.

One of the foremost French picture-play producers follows a similar practice. He has a staff of eight writers whose sole duty is the preparation of scenarios for production. Plots as they flit through the minds of these men are jotted down and pigeon-holed. The outside contributions which come in with every post are scanned, and those thought suitable are dissected, their ideas are torn out and re-committed to paper, for filing, while the author is rewarded with payment according to the merit of his work. At this establishment no lengthy scenario submitted by an unknown writer is considered. Time is too valuable when eight or ten stages have to be kept going. The staff is fully occupied upon the work in hand, and cannot wade through pages of often indecipherable hand-writing. The method of this particular producer in the case of an ordinary play is to have an abstract, prepared by the retained scenario writer, indicating the scenes, their sequence, characters, and other details, with a brief synopsis of the plot, the whole being set out upon a sheet of foolscap. Upon this material the producer works, explaining to the company the story of the play and the situations, as they progress step by step.

Many producers, however, prefer the scenario to be submitted in a more complete form, though requirements of brevity and terseness must be observed. They like the list of characters to be given, together with a suggested period and setting. The cast should be kept as small as possible, as a plethora of characters in a photo-play is apt to be bewildering. Also the producer can amplify the cast if he wishes to do so. The plot should be set out in narrative form. A bald synopsis is quite sufficient because the scenario expert will judge the merits of the manuscript from this alone. In order to assist the producer the main points and situations may be indicated. After the synopsis there should be some suggestions for working out the story scene by scene. These are not essential, but they sometimes give the reader a better impression of the story, and help him in staging the play. The chances are a hundred to one that the play never will be staged as written by the author, yet its brief evolution is often appreciated.

When the author works out his plots he must steer clear of introducing wild impossibilities or hopelessly impracticable suggestions. The producer is admittedly a clever man, and is able to get wonderful effects with the aid of the camera, nor does he hesitate to employ trickery when it will further his purpose, but there are limitations even to trick photography. There was one manuscript in which the author, after taking his villain through adventures innumerable, suggested a sensational means of eliminating him altogether. The man was speeding across a frozen river to escape the vengeance of the hero when the ice opened up suddenly, let him through, and then closed on him to hide him from sight and memory. Needless to say, this plot met with scanty consideration. In another case the plot turned upon a lady's ring. The lady was standing by a river, and the ring slipped from her finger into the water to be caught and swallowed by a fish. Some days later the hero was fishing in the same stream. He had a bite, hooked his catch, cut it open, and found the ring. It is difficult to say who experienced the most amazement, the hero when he opened his fish, or the producer when he read the story.