Writing the Photoplay

by J. Berg Esenwein; Arthur Leeds

It is a constant source of mingled amusement and dismay to editors to read some of the impossible or impracticable things that amateur photoplaywrights wish to have done in the course of the action of their stories. Three things are responsible for this common fault in photoplay plotting: the writer's very limited knowledge of the limitations of the photoplay stage; an intense desire to be original; and the fact that, having seen in the pictures themselves so many evidences that the manufacturers do not let the question of expense stand in the way of attaining spectacular and realistic effects, they go blindly ahead and introduce scenes to take which would so enormously run up the cost of producing the picture that the expense involved would be out of all proportion to the value of the scene as a part of the story.

Better to illustrate these points, we reproduce a paragraph from an article by Mr. R.R. Nehls, manager of the American Film Manufacturing Company:

"Ordinary judgment should tell a writer about what is possible in the way of stage equipment to carry out a plot. We can provide almost anything in reason, such as wireless instruments, automobiles, houses of every description, cattle, etc., but we cannot wreck passenger trains, dam up rivers, and burn up mansions merely to produce a single picture. There is no rule to guide you in these matters save your own common sense."

Now, the foregoing paragraph was written by Mr. Nehls some six years ago. We include his opinion in this volume, however, because it is absolutely necessary to consider expense when planning a story for the screen. On the other hand, it must be said for the benefit of the new and talented writer who really has or can evolve big situations for his stories that never in the history of the motion picture have manufacturers been so ready to do the big thing in a big way as they are now. That is to say—and this whole statement should have your most careful consideration—the only thing that a manufacturer considers today is the question of whether or not a certain effect, scenic, mechanical, or whatever it may be, is worth the money which would have to be spent to obtain it. It would be folly to say that train wrecks, burning houses, destroyed bridges, and the like, are "impossible" in a film story, after every patron of the picture houses has seen on the screen everything from the wrecking by earthquake of a whole village to the burning of a huge sailing vessel—have seen, in very fact, almost everything that it is possible to see on the earth, above the earth, or in the waters under it. We have indeed reached a period of amazing spectacular effects, produced, in most cases, at enormous cost. And yet today a far closer watch is kept on the cost than ever before.

How are we to reconcile these two apparently conflicting statements? The answer is simple: Nothing is too costly if it pays for itself—as reckoned by the sale of prints when the picture is placed on the market. If, for example, "The Birth of a Nation," "Civilization," "Cabiria," "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea," and ever so many other super-features that have been made since these were produced, had cost twice as much as they actually did, they would still have been exceedingly profitable ventures for the ones who put them out. If you have the story to justify the big scenes and effects you will unhesitatingly be provided with all the effects the story calls for. Today, economy is practiced after the story has been purchased; the unusually good plot is not persistently returned because of the expense attached to putting it into film form. Ways and means are found within the studio to produce, for every thousand dollars paid out, an effect—a result—such as to make it appear that from three to five times that amount has been expended. Sometimes, indeed, an effect produced at comparatively trifling expense, often by trick photography or by "faking" or substituting for some expensive property, is even more effective than the real thing would have been. As an example, the effect on the screen of a miniature—a "fake"—Zeppelin falling through the clouds, a blazing mass, was convincing, thrilling and easy to produce, whereas from the spectator's point of view it would have been well nigh impossible to make a satisfactory photograph of a real Zeppelin consumed by flames and falling to destruction, even though it had been both possible and financially worth while to burn a real dirigible.

Another thing to be remembered is that Mr. Nehls wrote his statement at a time when one-reel pictures were the rule; and what would have been considered enormously expensive for a single-reel story is not thought so much of when it is to be included in a production of five reels or over. A good rule, followed by many successful writers, is to plan your story—estimating as well as you can according to what unusual effects or settings, are called for—so that a five-reel subject, say, will not call for more than five times the outlay demanded by a single-reel picture. It is not an easy thing to do, we will admit; but you can do your best to figure the expense in this way. Many manufacturers are willing to pay out as much for a thoroughly good five-reel picture as some others would pay for a six-or seven-reel feature; if they do so in the case of your story so much the better for you, in the light of the additional credit you will receive for having turned out an especially fine piece of work. The point is: Don't be too ready to add to the expense merely because it is a multiple-reel story. The test should be: Is the expensive scene or effect absolutely essential to a proper unfolding of your plot? If it is, include it; if not, leave it out or find as good a substitute effect as you can. In any event, omit expensive scenes for minor parts of your plot.

2. Considering the Expense of Settings

Do not write a scene into your scenario that will necessitate too much work for scenic artists, carpenters, and property men. A truly big theme is, of course, entitled to careful, and even elaborate, staging; but it is usually only necessary to set forth the big theme and describe the setting in a general way; the producer will do the rest. Do not be extravagant in your requirements. This should be one of your first considerations when you start to write a scene: could it be played as well in some other setting that would not require so much "staging?" Perhaps, in the setting that you thought of first, it might be necessary to use several extra people, thereby adding to the cost of production. No doubt it would be very pretty and effective to have Ralph make up his quarrel with Dorothy as she sits down close to the camera in the crowded ball-room; but, if the play did not already contain a ball-room scene, could not the reconciliation be shown just as well in the library or on the street near her home or in a drawing-room scene where only a few guests are assembled, the guests all being regular members of the stock company?

Some pictures calling for special properties and extra people fully justify the additional expenditure; others do not. He is a wise writer who knows his own script well enough to be able to judge.

3. How Some "Too Expensive" Scenes Were Taken