Al. Hayman Charles Frohman
Copyright by Charles Frohman, Inc.
º Marc Klaw
Abraham L. Erlanger
Copyright, Rockwood
Samuel F. Nixon (Nirdlinger) J. Fred. Zimmermann, Sr.
“It is often true, as old King Duncan declares, that ‘There’s no art to find the mind’s construction in the face.’ Nevertheless, study of the faces of the men who compose that sacred institution of beneficence, The Theatrical Syndicate, is worth making. Such study renders it easier to understand the condition of the Theatre in America to-day.”—W. W.
livelihood, is forced to sell his business and desist from competition. Then the benevolent national octopus gradually advances the price of oil until at last the public in the neighborhood has paid the cost of driving the small competitor out of business, the field is occupied solely by the Standard Company, and it sells oil to the people for “all the traffic will bear.” That method may be as lawful in selling “theatricals” as in selling oil, but—is it right?
If Belasco desired to present one of his “attractions,” in thirty cities under the Syndicate domination (acceding to the terms imposed upon him), but could, in one other city, present that “attraction” for ten weeks, at an independent theatre, receiving eighty per cent. of the gross receipts, while in the same city the Syndicate would “book” his “attraction” at one of its theatres and graciously exact fifty per cent, of the gross receipts, then Belasco would be necessitated to submit to that predatory dictation, or else lose his “bookings” in the thirty other cities,—in all other cities,—in which the Syndicate controlled the “first-class” theatres.
“THOSE SHALL TAKE WHO HAVE THE POWER.”
Perhaps that may seem an extreme case. Yet that is exactly what happened to him. In 1902 Belasco produced “The Darling of the Gods,” Miss Blanche Bates appearing in it as a star, in association with an exceptionally fine and expensive company. That was a very costly production: after two years of presentation of it Belasco had gained a net profit of only $5,000,—while, had he chosen to do so, he could have gained that profit in a fortnight with many an inferior vehicle. He was, naturally, proud of his achievement. He desired that the play should be represented within reach of the multitude assembled to view the World’s Exposition, which was opened at St. Louis, in 1904, and he arranged to present “The Darling of the Gods” at the Imperial Theatre, in that city. As soon as this fact became known he was notified by Mr. Erlanger, on behalf of the Syndicate, that he would not be permitted to do so,—the reason being that the Syndicate would not tolerate the presentment there of Belasco’s play in any but a Syndicate house, though the Syndicate could not, or would not, provide him a theatre there for as long a term as he could secure the Imperial. Belasco’s reply was that he would certainly produce “The Darling of the Gods” in St. Louis, whereupon Mr. Erlanger, in the presence of Belasco’s representative, destroyed and threw into a waste basket a number of contracts, signed and executed, providing for the presentation of that and other Belasco “attractions” in theatres under Syndicate control in various cities of the Union and Canada. This peremptory repudiative action, accompanied by much violent expletive, no doubt was one of Mr. Erlanger’s genial ways of illustrating the conduct of business on those “firm lines” he had prescribed as so essential to theatrical regeneration, and of illuminating the Syndicate’s righteous purpose, as stated by the late Mr. Charles Frohman, to compel the managers of theatrical companies “to keep faith with managers of theatres.” It clearly was a conclusive example of the Syndicate’s beneficent methods.
“Thus bad begins and worse remains behind”: if the general policy which I have specified is iniquitous, how shall certain other proceedings, conducted by the executive of the Syndicate, in the development of the business of the Theatre, be characterized? Let the reader assume that he wishes to bring out a new star or a new play, in New York, and does so: his venture is successful: he plays for a considerable term in the capital: he wishes to “book” his “attraction” on the road. The charges made for such booking service are, I understand, reasonable,—somewhere from about $250 to $300 for a season’s tour. But does the reader suppose he can get his play booked and his tour arranged as simply as by paying an agent’s commission? Let him try: perhaps he will succeed: “circumstances alter cases”: his play may have proved so popular in New York that theatre managers throughout the country clamor to have it exhibited in their theatres, in which case the Syndicate might become placable; but such good fortune is dubious. It is far more probable that, in order to obtain a desirable route through the first-class theatres of the country, he will find it obligatory to make “a free gift” of an interest of from one-third to one-half of his successful venture (in which he has done all the original work and borne all the expense and risk) to the benevolent and protective firm of Messrs. Klaw & Erlanger,—as, for example, it appears from his sworn testimony (see ante, pp. 18-19) that Belasco was forced to do when presenting David Warfield in “The Auctioneer.”