_Atmosphere and studio morale--Where best work is_
_done--Importance of story--Value of_
_“Observation Tours.”_
The beginner has learned that he or she must at all times stand
solidly before the camera upon his or her own feet. I mean this in a
metaphorical sense. So much depends upon courage and self-reliance.
If it is well not to let the style of supporting artists affect one, it
is equally well to steel one’s self against the conditions under which
one must sometimes work.
The motion picture, after all, is a commercial proposition. It is very
much so to the producer. For that reason the beginner will find that
different studios create and maintain their own atmosphere. Here one
will discover a wide range. But since we may consider ourselves called
upon to work now in New York, again in California, and sometimes in
Florida, passing from studio to studio, we shall win a big battle if at
the outset we will determine to let conditions and studio atmosphere
affect us as little as possible.
It is here, again, a case of taking advantage of conditions if they are
good, and trying to ignore them if they are distasteful.
I know from experience that this will be a hard thing to do. If the
actress finds, in the very air of which she breathes, unpleasantness
and intrigue, she will be normally inclined to resent it hotly. Yet
such resentment only takes away from her acting, for it diverts her
mind, and she will be the greater loser as between herself and her
producer.
I have worked under such profound systems as considered studio spies
and time charts upon make up, etc., as necessary to production. I will
leave it to the reader to decide how much morale one will find in this
sort of studio.
Fortunately such a studio and such a morale are the exception. But, if
encountered in the many vicissitudes that an actress will face, it will
be well to make the best of it; to steel one’s nervous system against
odds. Self-reliance in such a case is no less than golden.
But in the majority of studios the manufacture of motion pictures is
not put upon the same level as the making of gloves or brooms, and the
beginner will find a kindly and friendly atmosphere both charming and
helpful.
In those studios that glow with a warm, friendly atmosphere there
is always a good-natured rivalry and spirit of fellowship which is
certain to reflect itself in the finished picture. For that reason it
is a genuine asset. Here hours are buoyant minutes and the actors and
directors find their reward in the excellence of their endeavor, as
well as somewhere in Heaven.
Another point that the beginner must remember is that it is much harder
to make good in pictures now than it was when I started. That, of
course, is because of the greater competition.
Where ten years ago there was one boy or girl ambitious for a screen
career there are now a thousand. I often think that the screen has been
very kind to those who had faith in it in its babyhood. It has brought
to so many of these fame and fortune.
And sometimes, when I observe some fairly competent actress or actor
thwarted in an attempt to reach stardom, I wonder if the screen, after
its own fashion, is not asserting itself for this lack of faith in
those early days.
At any rate those who got in first secured a big advantage over those
who wondered if a multiple-reel picture could be a success and doubted
it for, as some said, “It would be too great a strain upon the eye.”
But if there are more aspirants now there are assuredly more
opportunities and my candidate need have no fear. Sooner or later merit
may be counted upon to assert itself. All about us in motion pictures
we every day perceive the truth of this.
It is also true that the screen is in a state of constant change. The
methods of acting change; the methods of direction; the methods of
presentation; the methods of story selection--all is continually in
flux.
No one knows what another five years will bring. But we do know
that some of our prized pictures of five or more years ago would be
instantly pointed out as old-fashioned by the average theater-goer.
That is because there is no fundamental point about them that has not
been somehow affected by time.
Yet no pictures I ever will make will be dearer to me than my “The
Sands of Dee,” “Apple Pie Mary,” “The Little Liar,” “The Escape,”
“Hoodoo Ann,” “The Wharf Rat,” etc.
This constant evolution is a matter to be reckoned with. To stand still
is to be lost. We must always be pushing ahead. For that reason the
beginner and the star will find it greatly to their advantage to follow
everything that is done on the screen.
In unexpected places we discover new development. Some unheard-of
player in a boisterous two-reel comedy may disclose some little trick,
or expression, or bit of business, that can be easily interpolated in
the more serious drama with good effect. And so on.
[Illustration: _A pair excellent in its screenic balance--Gloria
Swanson and Thomas Meighan._]
We must read widely. Try as they may, we can be mortally certain that
no scenario editors can always supply the vehicle which we feel is
suitable for us to play. There will come a time when the actress will
be thrown upon her own resources, either in the matter of rejection or
selection of a story. She must be able to put her finger on what she
considers a vital defect in some narrative that appeals to the editor,
or discover for him good points in some other story against which he is
prejudiced.
In any event it will be extremely hazardous not to participate as much
as possible in the business of deciding upon the play.
Nothing is so vital as a good story. Even when poorly acted it will
be of greater appeal than a well played scenario of no merit. Motion
picture actresses prosper almost in exact ratio to the inherent worth
of their scenarios.
At first this story matter will not greatly concern the tyro. But as
the beginner finds himself or herself slowly crawling up the ladder to
stardom he or she will do well to think often upon the type of story to
be preferred if given a chance to star.
By this process the beginner will be visualizing himself in a role.
Of a certain his most pleasant visualization will be the role in
which he feels that he would be at his best. In such a way, when the
chance comes, the star may know exactly the story he or she will fit
perfectly.
Once the story is decided upon there are many ways to bring to it
genuine color. In several of my early plays Mr. Griffith sent me down
into the New York slums on an “observation tour.” We all made such
tours. In “Intolerance” I visited sick and stricken mothers in baby
hospitals. We spent a half-day once in a jail observing the characters
therein.
It is always important in acting to show a thing as it is, not as we
think it ought to be, and for that reason these “observation tours” are
of great benefit.