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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77829 ***
+
+
+
+ SCREEN ACTING
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1921
+ PHOTO-STAR PUBLISHING CO.
+ LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
+
+[Illustration: _The Author and Daughter Mary_]
+
+
+
+
+ SCREEN ACTING
+
+ BY
+
+ MAE MARSH
+
+ OF
+ “THE BIRTH OF A NATION,” “INTOLERANCE,” “POLLY OF THE
+ CIRCUS,” “THE CINDERELLA MAN,” ETC.
+
+ ILLUSTRATED
+
+ LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
+ PHOTO-STAR PUBLISHING CO.
+
+ CHAMBER OF COMMERCE BUILDING
+
+ _All Rights Reserved_
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+In her travels and through her amazing--to put it
+mildly--correspondence, the motion picture star finds that there is
+everywhere a great curiosity about screen acting.
+
+What does it require? What, if any, are its mysteries? What system of
+detail is there that permits fifty-two hundred feet of celluloid ribbon
+to spin smoothly past the eye to make an interesting story?
+
+I look upon this book as an answer to the thousands of letters I
+have received in the past several years asking as many thousands of
+questions. A motion picture star’s most intimate audience, after all,
+is her correspondence.
+
+There comes to her sometimes the vague realization that in a dozen
+different countries little children, their sisters, their brothers and
+their parents may be, at one moment, viewing her image upon the screen
+in a dozen different plays. It is all too stupendous; too impersonal.
+But though she cannot be a breathing part of these audiences she learns
+often what is in the hearts of many. This message comes through the
+mails; that is her broad point of contact with her international public.
+
+Five years ago these letters were largely to request photographs and
+the star could tell something of her popularity by the number of
+pictures mailed out. But, as the screen has grown in importance and
+merit, the star’s correspondence has indicated a lively curiosity in
+the art of camera-acting. So much ambition; so many questions!
+
+I have often thought that to make a satisfactory reply to the thousands
+of questions I have been asked would be to write a book, and--well, I
+wrote it. I have tried to outline the important steps in the building
+of a screen career. In doing this I have evaded technical phraseology.
+It is not indispensable to a knowledge of screen technic and might tend
+to confuse.
+
+I believe that anyone desiring a career in motion pictures can profit
+by that which I have written out of my experience; that others can
+learn from it something of the work-a-day life of the screen actress.
+
+In conclusion I would take this opportunity to thank the tremendous
+number of children and grown-ups who have at one time or another
+written me. They serve always to remind me that those of us upon the
+screen have an influence and responsibility that go beyond a mere
+make-believe.
+
+ MAE MARSH.
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+Chapter Page
+
+I. The Universal Impulse 15
+
+II. Stars and Meteors 23
+
+III. Seven Qualities 33
+
+IV. Beauty and Expression 43
+
+V. Story, Make-up, Costuming 51
+
+VI. Noses, Chins and Eyes 61
+
+VII. Camera-Consciousness and Such 73
+
+VIII. Emphasis and Repression 81
+
+IX. Long Shots, Intermediates and Close-ups 91
+
+X. About Atmosphere 101
+
+XI. Mr. Griffith 109
+
+XII. Home Life of the Star 121
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+
+ Page
+
+The Author and Mary Frontispiece
+
+Lillian Gish and the late Robert Harron 27
+
+Charles Ray 37
+
+Mary Miles Minter 47
+
+Mary Pickford 55
+
+Madame Nazimova 65
+
+Blanche Sweet and Wallace Reid 77
+
+Norma Talmadge 85
+
+The Author and Some Beginners 95
+
+Gloria Swanson and Thomas Meighan 105
+
+Mr. Griffith 113
+
+The Author at Home 125
+
+
+
+
+MAE MARSH, MOTION PICTURE ACTRESS
+
+
+_I_
+
+ _The arts are old, old as the stones_
+ _From which man carved the sphinx austere._
+ _Deep are the days the old arts bring:_
+ _Ten thousand years of yesteryear._
+
+
+_II_
+
+ _She is madonna in an art_
+ _As wild and young as her sweet eyes:_
+ _A frail dew flower from this hot lamp_
+ _That is today’s divine surprise._
+
+ _Despite raw lights and gloating mobs_
+ _She is not seared: a picture still:_
+ _Rare silk the fine director’s hand_
+ _May weave for magic if he will._
+
+ _When ancient films have crumbled like_
+ _Papyrus rolls of Egypt’s day,_
+ _Let the dust speak: “Her pride was high,_
+ _All but the artist hid away:_
+
+ _“Kin to the myriad artist clan_
+ _Since time began, whose work is dear.”_
+ _The deep new ages come with her,_
+ _Tomorrow’s years of yesteryear._
+
+ --_Nicholas Vachel Lindsay._
+
+ _From “THE CHINESE NIGHTINGALE_
+ _and other Poems” by Vachel Lindsay._
+ _Published by The MacMillan Company._
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+ _The dilemma of a casting director--A flood of letters_
+ _and their four objectives--What every-_
+ _one wants to know._
+
+
+When Mr. Adolph Klauber, former dramatic critic of the New York Times,
+was casting director for a big picture corporation I chanced to meet
+him one day in the Fort Lee Studios.
+
+“Read this,” he said, tendering me a letter.
+
+It was from a young girl in Columbus, Ohio, as I remember, who wanted
+to know how she could get into motion pictures. It was not so much the
+letter as a small snap-shot photograph of herself which she had pinned
+to her missive that took my attention.
+
+The picture showed a girl in a sitting position, who was plump to
+the verge of fatness. She had thick legs and ankles, straight hair,
+probably brown, and dark eyes. So far as a front view divulged her
+features were fairly regular. It was not in any way a remarkable
+picture. Nor did it promise any particular animation in its subject.
+
+She had written to ascertain “what chance she would have in motion
+pictures.”
+
+“What are you going to answer?” I asked of Mr. Klauber.
+
+“That’s a poser,” he replied. “I was about to write her that she didn’t
+have any chance; that she probably would be happier if she remained
+home; certainly so until she obtained her parents’ consent for plans of
+a career. Looking at the picture I should say she had one chance in a
+million.”
+
+“That is probably true,” I said.
+
+“But do you know,” continued Mr. Klauber, “that the more I think of
+it the less I believe that I am endowed with authority to tell anyone
+that he or she has no chance in motion pictures. How can I know? We see
+about us every day celebrated stars who, perhaps, began their career
+with apparently no more chance than this little Columbus girl.”
+
+Mr. Klauber paused.
+
+“For that reason I have not sent the discouraging letter which it was
+on the tip of my pen to write,” he continued. “Instead I am going to
+send her a letter telling her that her chance of screen success is
+altogether problematical; that everything depends upon circumstance,
+hard work and the native talent that is developed before the camera.”
+
+“I should like to see a copy of that letter,” I said.
+
+I never happened to see Mr. Klauber’s reply to the girl in Columbus.
+But I am sure it was interesting.
+
+In the past eight years I have received hundreds of thousands of
+letters from motion picture fans in every part of the world. In answer
+now to a question I have often heard asked, “Does a motion picture star
+immediately read all her mail?” I can say for myself, “Bless you, no.”
+
+A single mail has brought as many as a thousand letters and I shall
+leave it to the reader to determine how one could possibly read one
+thousand letters and arrive at the studio at 8:30 o’clock. Personally,
+my secretaries are instructed to attend to such fan letters as request
+a reply--which practically all of them do--and then preserve the
+letters that I may read them in leisure moments.
+
+In that way I have managed I think to peruse at one time or another the
+majority of the letters that come to me. I find the reading of them a
+great pleasure.
+
+It is nice to receive pleasant compliments on one’s hard and honest
+effort to do something worth while. I have on many occasions found
+helpful criticism in my mail. Almost anyone can dismiss a picture with
+a “I liked it” or “I didn’t like it.” There is the exceptional one in
+a thousand who will tell you he didn’t like it and why, placing his
+finger upon a real defect. Often that is a help.
+
+To get back to my point: The letters I receive seem to be written with
+one, and sometimes all of the following objectives--
+
+1. To request a photograph.
+
+2. To request an autographed photograph.
+
+3. To ask for “old clothes.”
+
+4. To find out how “I can learn to act for motion pictures.”
+
+As for Numbers 1 and 2, the many of you who are making a “collection”
+know that a picture, autographed if requested, is sent you in due
+time. Up to very recently the star has considered it a matter of good
+advertising to remember those friends who are kind enough to ask for
+photographs. But the demand for pictures has become so tremendous that
+some of the stars are now making a flat charge of twenty-five cents
+for their photographs. This barely covers the cost of production and
+postage.
+
+It was Miss Billie Burke, I believe, who was first to establish a cost
+charge on her photographs. She did this during the war and donated the
+receipts to charity.
+
+The most of us have feared to risk offending those picture fans who
+have been at the pains of writing us by asking them for a photographic
+fee. We have spent from $10,000 to $25,000 a year out of our own
+pockets--unless by our contracts our producers agreed to bear this
+expense--and have trusted that it was money well expended. In the
+amount of pleasure brought to the little ones I, for one, am sure it
+has been.
+
+But, as the demand for pictures grows greater and letters pour in
+from all parts of the world, the cost of materials has been steadily
+climbing. In 1915 I could send out three photographs for what it now
+costs to send one. That means something when thousands of photo-mailers
+each month are being sent to a dozen different countries.
+
+Recently a well known star, a particular friend of mine, declared that
+it was but a matter of months before all the more popular stars would
+institute a photographic fee.
+
+As to Number 3, regarding old clothes, I am sure that while the
+requests emanate from worthy sources no star could possibly satisfy
+these many supplications.
+
+To begin with if the story calls for clothes that are actually old--old
+enough to be considered “costumes”--they are usually supplied by the
+producer and belong to him after production. In the case of modern
+clothes--meaning new ones--most stars are very pleased to wear them
+themselves when they have finished before the camera.
+
+Such is mine own case. Whenever there is any danger of my reaching a
+point of clothes saturation I have several growing sisters who, so
+far, have been able to handle the situation. After that our clothes go
+through certain pre-arranged channels of charity.
+
+I make this point in the hope that many young ladies who have written
+me for my “old clothes” will understand that I have few or none, as
+much as I should like to accommodate each one of them.
+
+Which brings me to Number 4.
+
+“How can I learn to act for motion pictures?” Six years ago in “The
+Birth of a Nation” days my mail brought me many such inquiries. Since
+then, with the motion picture steadily gaining in favor, I have been
+swamped with this universal request.
+
+“Do brown eyes photograph better than blue?” “Is it necessary to have
+stage training to act before a camera?” “Can a girl with a big nose
+succeed in the movies?” “What is the accepted height for a motion
+picture star?” “Are the morals of motion pictures safe for the average
+girl?” “If I came to Hollywood and got work as an extra how long
+would it be before I am featured?” “Do you know any director who will
+star a small girl, of blond type, who has played parts in high school
+comedies?” “Are the star salaries we hear of the real thing?” “Does
+Charlie Chaplin make $1,000,000 a year?”
+
+I have picked at random these few questions. I think I could go on and
+on, farther than Mr. Tennyson’s charming brook, with others of the same
+kind. Sometimes I am given to the thought that every young girl in the
+United States wants to go into motion pictures.
+
+Possibly I am right. You know as well as I. Receiving so many of these
+letters I have begun to feel as Mr. Klauber felt. I don’t know exactly
+what to say.
+
+But since there are undoubtedly many thousands of boys and girls not
+only in the United States but in foreign countries--the Japanese boy,
+for instance, is particularly keen on knowing the how of motion picture
+acting--who would like to get into motion pictures, I feel that such
+information as I have acquired through a wide experience will interest
+many and perhaps prove of value to those others who are destined to be
+our cinema stars of tomorrow.
+
+As for my qualifications I was about to say that I am one of the motion
+picture pioneers. Yet when I say pioneer I think of Daniel Boone. And
+Mr. Boone, had he lived, would have been an old, old man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+ _The myth of the “overnight” star--An instance of_
+ _success after long sustained effort--_
+ _What the beginner faces._
+
+
+To become an artistic success one must assuredly be in love with the
+art he has elected to follow. In business or finance a so-called lucky
+stroke may make of a man or a woman a success without there being those
+qualities of esteem and enthusiasm for the thing itself that are so
+essential to artistic endeavor.
+
+Such lucky strokes are rare in pictures. Appearances to the contrary,
+notwithstanding, motion picture stars are not made over-night. Every
+now and then some actor or actress begins to assert his or her right to
+cinema stardom. But if one will take the trouble to examine the records
+in such cases he will usually find that the privilege of stardom has
+come only after a slow climb.
+
+There have been cases where producers have tried to “manufacture”
+stars. But, in the main, it hasn’t worked.
+
+To recall one example: One of the shrewdest of our producers not long
+ago signed a young, beautiful and talented vaudeville actress to a long
+time motion picture contract. Screen tests proved that she photographed
+beautifully. She had the grace of carriage to be expected of the
+professional dancer. Her face was expressive. That a capable director
+would find in her all the qualities necessary for stardom the producer
+never doubted.
+
+Thousands of dollars were spent in an ocean of advertising ink
+announcing the debut of this star. Her name was flashed from one end of
+the country to the other, indeed, around the world, in electric lights
+and on bill boards. Her photograph was published in the metropolitan
+dailies and small town papers. So far as the campaign was concerned it
+was an unqualified success. By the time the little star’s first picture
+was ready for release there had been built up about her a tremendous
+curiosity.
+
+I own I was as curious as the next. I think the majority of us, who had
+attained stardom only after years of rigorous training, self denial and
+hard work, were interested, even anxious, to know if motion picture
+stars could be developed after the formula of this producer. It meant
+something to us.
+
+If the magnitude of the motion picture actress was to be in proportion
+to the size of an introductory advertising campaign then our own
+position was none too secure.
+
+As a star this little actress failed. Thanks to some natural talent her
+failure was not so disastrous as it might have been. But as a star, she
+was soon withdrawn. The fortune spent in exploiting her was gone, but
+not forgotten. As a proof of the impossibility of “manufacturing” stars
+under the most favorable of circumstances it probably served a purpose.
+
+Why did she fail? Why would a baby, who had never walked, fail if she
+were told to run a foot race? She simply didn’t know how.
+
+All the little important things that one can learn by nothing save
+experience, things which mean everything to successful screen acting,
+were missing in her work. She was like one trying to paint without
+knowing color, to compose without a knowledge of counter-point, to
+write without having learned grammar school English. Contrary to a
+tradition which exists in some localities the best swimmers are not
+developed by throwing the child into the water and telling him to sink
+or float.
+
+There is another interesting point in the case which I have cited. When
+the plans to make this young lady an over-night star failed she became
+a featured player in a group. Surrounded by experienced, capable screen
+actors and relieved of the responsibility that stardom entails she has
+developed splendidly and is, in point of fact, a better actress today
+than she was when she was advertised as a star.
+
+It has been simply a matter of training. If sometime in the future she
+is again starred she will be prepared to make a better job of it.
+
+I have brought up this case because it has been my observation that
+there exists a feeling that in motion pictures anybody can be a star
+anytime. There is talk of influence, managerial favoritism, luck
+and, goodness knows, what not? There may be truth to some of these
+assertions.
+
+But the year in and year out stars--Mary Pickford, Dorothy and Lillian
+Gish, William Hart, Mme. Nazimova, Douglas Fairbanks, Charles Ray,
+etc.--are those who stand solidly on the ground of genuine merit.
+
+And the solidity of their stance is usually determined by the amount of
+their natural talent, plus the excellence and length of their training.
+
+I believe many people have the habit of falling in love with an idea.
+The idea of becoming a motion picture star is appealing. But like many
+other general conceptions the idea of the star’s life--as gathered from
+a smoothly displayed picture drama or a magazine article portraying the
+artist’s home, her automobile and her pets--is misleading.
+
+Robert Louis Stevenson wept in despair over the composition of many of
+his stories. A great many of us have had occasion to weep over our own
+more modest efforts. We have found, indeed, that the most beautiful
+roses are very often those with the cruelest thorns.
+
+[Illustration: _Lillian Gish and the late Robert Harron in a love scene
+from “The Greatest Question.”_]
+
+It has been proved that motion picture stars cannot be made over-night.
+It is equally true that many promising actresses do not become
+stars--in the accepted professional sense of the word--even after long
+years of work.
+
+I suppose if I said that nobody can succeed in motion pictures and that
+the star is the exception to the rule I should be accused of being a
+pessimist. Yet that is more nearly the truth than may appear on the
+surface.
+
+Consider, for instance, the thousands of actors and actresses who have
+appeared before a camera in the past decade. After you have done that
+count the number of genuine stars now before the public. You can name
+the majority of them on the fingers and thumbs of four hands.
+
+Yet in the heart of each of the thousands, who have stepped before the
+batteries of motion picture cameras, there was undoubtedly the hope
+that natural ability, circumstance or hard work would bring success.
+
+It is well to take this into consideration when one looks toward the
+screen for a career.
+
+But sometimes this law of average is defeated by that exceptional
+person whose faith is undiminished, whose confidence in one’s self is
+boundless and whose capacity for work never flags.
+
+Let me cite you the case of one of the best known young actresses
+on the screen who, as this is written, has never enjoyed the full
+privileges of stardom though she has shared most of its disadvantages.
+
+She began her screen career more than a half dozen years ago. She was
+frail, and slow to absorb the lessons of the screen. Even her dearest
+friends never imputed to her a great natural acting talent.
+
+But this young lady was dauntless. She kept everlastingly at it.
+By systematically exercising she gradually built up strength and
+endurance. When she was given a part she read everything she had access
+to which would help her in the development of her character portrayal.
+
+She over-came any tendency toward self-consciousness while before the
+camera. She became adept in the matter of thinking up business. The
+fact that she did not attain stardom, in its generally accepted sense,
+never deterred her. Year after year she gave to the screen and to her
+parts the best that was in her.
+
+Her courageousness has been rewarded. It is my opinion that in the past
+two years she has contributed to the photographic drama two of its most
+distinguished characterizations. She is a motion picture star in the
+true sense of the word. Her name is Lillian Gish.
+
+If I seem to be gazing on the darker side of a screen career I assure
+you that it is not because such is my habit. Quite the contrary. But
+it appears to me that since there seems to be such a universal impulse
+to gain fame through the medium of the moving picture drama that it is
+as well to consider some of its difficulties.
+
+Trained actors and actresses from the spoken stage to their sorrow have
+found these difficulties. The established star finds sometimes that
+success has seemed merely to double her troubles.
+
+The beginner will discover, therefore, that when he or she sets his or
+her face toward a screen career there will come moments when it will
+seem much easier to give up than go on. Those who give up will be those
+who should never have started. They will have wasted time that could
+have been otherwise more profitably spent.
+
+Those who go on--well, there is always hope for such.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I am always interested in and can sympathize with the young girl who
+yearns for a career. It seems but yesterday that I was in short skirts
+and Miss Marjorie Rambeau was the most talented and beautiful actress
+that was ever permitted upon the face of the earth. After a matinee
+at the old Burbank theater in Los Angeles a young girl friend and I
+often followed Miss Rambeau discreetly and at what might be called a
+worshipful distance.
+
+Then there was Mr. Richard Bennett. What a masterful, handsome man was
+he! My goodness! he was one to occupy one’s dreams; to make one wonder
+if somehow it might not be possible to grow up and become his leading
+lady. I am sure that the very paragon of modern-day leading men could
+not come up to my childhood estimate of Mr. Richard Bennett.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+ _Seven qualities that indicate fitness for a screen career_
+ _--Why they are important--An illus-_
+ _tration of vitality._
+
+
+As I have said, I have been asked by thousands of correspondents for
+the formula for screen success. I have never felt able to answer. I
+don’t believe there is any such formula.
+
+Putting the proposition another way:
+
+If I were requested to choose from among ten beginners the one who
+would go the farthest in motion pictures I should unhesitatingly lay my
+finger upon the one who possessed the following qualifications:
+
+(1) Natural talent.
+
+(2) Ambition.
+
+(3) Personality.
+
+(4) Sincerity.
+
+(5) Agreeable appearance.
+
+(6) Vitality and strength.
+
+(7) Ability to learn quickly.
+
+I am sure that I should not go far wrong if I were to place my trust in
+one endowed with these qualities.
+
+A natural talent for acting implies more than a mere desire to act. It
+is the art, usually discovered during childhood, of mimicry, and the
+joy in that art.
+
+How many of us have been convulsed in our earlier years at some school
+girl friend’s take-off of our teacher? How many of us, indeed, have
+played the mimics? I seem to remember that in my grammar school days I
+was called upon more or less to take-off one of our teachers.
+
+If not called upon I volunteered. None of my school chums got more
+enjoyment out of my “imitation of Miss Blank” than I did. I never
+dreamed at that time--or, if I did, they were vague dreams--that I was
+to become an actress. Since then I have come to the conclusion that I
+was actually taking my first steps toward what I chose as a career.
+
+Natural talent, as I have called it, is no more than a tendency toward,
+or an aptitude for, some form of endeavor. In youth my first artistic
+loves were for mimicry and painting--the latter of which took the form
+of sculpturing--and both of these loves have been enduring.
+
+For that reason unless my candidate for screen success had previously
+shown some love for acting or mimicry I should come to the conclusion
+that he or she was intoxicated merely with the glamour of the
+profession, with no especial love for the fundamental thing itself.
+
+This is an important point. If its significance were duly impressed
+upon the thousands of girls and boys, who would like to choose the
+screen for a career, perhaps, some of them would abandon their dreams
+and turn to things for which they have displayed some natural aptitude.
+
+Ambition must, of course, go hand in hand with natural talent. In
+any form of vocational training it is assumed that the student has a
+feverish desire to succeed in the particular line that he has elected
+to follow. It is the same on the screen.
+
+Possibly I might have written down enthusiasm in the place of ambition.
+After one has attained stardom and thus, perhaps, achieved his or
+her ambition the ability to sustain enthusiasm in one’s work becomes
+more important than ambition. But ambition and enthusiasm are closely
+correlated.
+
+They mean that one has an ambition to gain the top, and that to reach
+that position one has the enthusiasm to practise all the forms of
+self-denial, discipline and study that are important to artistic
+success in any line.
+
+Personality is important for the reason that the camera has a way of
+registering it unerringly. It is keen in detecting the weak or vapid.
+
+In my eight years before a motion picture camera I have never met a
+person of inferior fibre whose inferiority was not accentuated by the
+camera. For that reason to sustain success on the screen I believe
+there is nothing more important than clean thoughts and clean living.
+They do register.
+
+It is precisely the same with sincerity. In any line there is probably
+little hope for those who lack this salient quality. But a motion
+picture camera seems especially to delight in exposing insincerity.
+
+I think considerable of the success of Mary Pickford and Charles
+Ray--to name but two stars--is due to their absolute and abundant
+sincerity. The camera, finding so much that is clean and real, has
+joyously reproduced it. It is the love that Miss Pickford radiates from
+the screen and the obvious manliness of Mr. Ray that are among their
+biggest assets. This is sincere love and sincere manliness, or it would
+never be so emphasized by the camera.
+
+My candidate for screen honors, therefore, must have the God-given
+quality of sincerity. Only that kind can feel deeply, think cleanly and
+develop the sterling traits without which neither a camera or a public
+can be very long deceived.
+
+I now come to the matter of personal appearance. This is a topic
+in which every man under 65, and every woman under 100 years seem
+interested. I sometimes wonder if it is not the desire to see how they
+would look on the screen, rather than how they might act, that fills
+so many boys and girls and men and women with an ambition for a screen
+career.
+
+[Illustration: _Charles Ray, plus his abundant sincerity, as reflected
+in “The Old Swimmin’ Hole.”_]
+
+I have found the subject of such universal interest that I believe it
+deserves a chapter to itself. Therefore I shall dismiss this matter
+until the next. I may say, however, that in my candidate I should rank
+agreeable appearance and an expressive face as superior to mere beauty.
+
+To paraphrase, nothing succeeds like good health. Of itself it is the
+most valuable thing that we should own. Good health can be translated
+into terms of capacity for work. Therefore since a screen career means
+both hard and trying work I should insist that my candidate possess or
+develop the qualities of strength and vitality.
+
+I am aware that in many forms of art such artists as Chopin, Stevenson
+and Milton, have become famous in spite of great physical handicaps. I
+do not believe the same can be done in pictures.
+
+It seems to me that healthy persons like to see and be among well
+people. Motion picture audiences being invariably in first-class
+physical shape themselves, desire that those who appear before them on
+the screen be likewise fortunate. It is my belief that an audience is
+usually bored to tears by a convalescing hero or heroine. If I were in
+charge of all the scenarios played I should cut such episodes very
+short. They beget more impatience than sympathy.
+
+But it is not only because good health radiates from the screen that it
+is important. In point of nervous and muscular strain, and the often
+long studio hours that are necessary when production has begun, good
+health is essential.
+
+To illustrate: While we were filming “Polly of the Circus” in Fort Lee
+one morning I reported at the studio at nine o’clock. We were working
+on some interior scenes that were vital to the success of the story.
+My director at that time was Mr. Charles Horan. Mr. Vernon Steele was
+playing the male lead.
+
+That day we became so engrossed in playing some rather delicate scenes
+that before we knew it--or at least before I could realize it--it was
+six o’clock, and we weren’t half done.
+
+“What do you say to continuing?” asked Mr. Horan.
+
+“Good; we’re right in the spirit of it,” I replied.
+
+We had a bite to eat and worked on until midnight. In spite of our
+hard and earnest efforts there were several scenes with which we were
+dissatisfied.
+
+“Well,” said Mr. Horan ruefully. “Tomorrow will be another day.”
+
+As he spoke it dawned upon me how one of the scenes on which we felt
+we had failed could be done with probable success.
+
+“Why tomorrow?” I replied. “Let’s make a night of it if necessary. We
+simply have to get that scene.”
+
+Mr. Horan grinned. That had been his wish. But he had feared breaking
+the camel’s back.
+
+We worked until four o’clock that morning. Things went swimmingly. It
+was broad daylight when I ferried across the Hudson but if I was very
+tired I was equally happy.
+
+Several times during “Polly of the Circus” we had experiences which, in
+the number of hours put in, were similar to that which I have related.
+But in the end it was worth while. We had a picture.
+
+At that time I was feeling in the best of health but, even so, the
+long hours had been a severe drain upon my none too great vitality.
+For anyone lacking strength and vitality such hours would have been
+impossible.
+
+It is not my intention to write a booklet on health. But all of us
+should be very careful of our most precious possession. I know of so
+many young girls in motion pictures who have let their health get away
+from them. And some of the cases are so pitiful....
+
+My candidate, then, will have strength and vitality and, equally
+important, he or she will cling to both, whatever social sacrifices may
+have to be made to preserve them.
+
+The ability to learn quickly will save anyone going into screen work so
+much trouble and possible humiliation that it may well be listed as an
+essential qualification.
+
+The screen is no place for the mental laggard. The beginner,
+particularly, must be alive to learn the new lessons that each day will
+bring, and learning them he must remember.
+
+During the course of production in a studio things are at high tension.
+Time is money. Each of us constitutes a more or less important cog in
+a great machine. Those cogs that inexcusably forget to function are
+eliminated.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+ _Beauty and the measure of looks upon the screen--_
+ _Expression most important--Tragedies of_
+ _doll-faces--Photographic “angles.”_
+
+
+What follows happened during the National Convention of Motion Picture
+Producers in 1917 at Chicago. The convention was held at the Coliseum.
+There were jazz bands, gay and costly decorations, and motion picture
+celebrities from both Coasts. The carnival spirit ran high and
+thousands of motion picture fans squeezed into that huge old building.
+
+The opening was called “Mae Marsh Day.” I shall not soon forget it.
+That night as our party entered the Coliseum through the manager’s
+private office I espied in the center of the building a newly erected
+platform draped with bunting and decorated with flowers.
+
+“You will make a little speech,” the manager said.
+
+I gasped. I think I almost fainted. I had never made a formal speech.
+The idea of it was as foreign to me as becoming Queen of the South Sea
+Islands.
+
+“All right,” I gurgled weakly.
+
+My voice has never been strong. As I walked to the platform the
+Coliseum was a bedlam of sound. I was introduced with difficulty. With
+sinking knees I stepped forward.
+
+“Ladies and gentlemen I am sure I am pleased to--”
+
+A jazz band, which seemed to be located somewhere immediately beneath
+my feet, began to loudly play. I didn’t know whether to dance or sing.
+It was a medley in which “The Star-Spangled Banner” was predominant. I
+blessed the band. I doubly blessed our national anthem. Looking about
+me I saw a small American flag. I grasped it and stood waving it to the
+strains of our national air. The convention was duly opened.
+
+Afterward, when I stood upon a small table giving away carnations until
+my wrist ached--smiling like a chorus girl meantime--a woman informed
+my mother that she wished to see me on an important matter. In the
+press of those thousands of children and grown-ups I was virtually
+trapped.
+
+“Tell her,” I suggested, “to call at the Blackstone Hotel tomorrow
+morning.”
+
+She came. She was a plain woman with an honest eye. She brought along
+two small daughters aged, respectively, ten and twelve, I afterward
+ascertained.
+
+“Miss Marsh,” she declared, leaning forward expectantly in her chair,
+“I think my two daughters should succeed in motion pictures. One of
+them is very beautiful, and the other looks like you.”
+
+I told this honest lady, with as straight a face as I could command,
+that while her daughters were still too young to think of playing in
+motion pictures that some day, perhaps, I could do something for them,
+particularly the one that looked like me.
+
+In approaching the matter of screen faces I am strongly reminded of
+that Chicago lady. I believe her logic was essentially sound. There
+is no measure of looks for the motion picture screen. If there is a
+yardstick it applies to expression, or animation, and not looks.
+
+No one admires a beautiful face upon the screen more than I. If it so
+happens that this beauty is allied with ability then I am often given
+to the thought that they are not a congenial combination. For beauty,
+ever a queenly quality, is diverting and manages in this way and that
+to steal some of the thunder that rightfully belongs to ability.
+
+If, as sometimes happens, I see mere beauty being exploited on the
+screen with no semblance of acting talent, I am ready to give up my
+seat to the next one along about the third reel. Nothing palls upon one
+more quickly.
+
+Therefore, I am at odds with those who believe that beauty is necessary
+for the screen beginner. Say for beauty that it has the merit of more
+quickly attracting attention to the one who possesses it and you have
+done it full justice. But even then, if it is unaccompanied by ability,
+it is just another tragedy of a doll-face.
+
+Acting is primarily the ability to express something. If the face that
+conveys that feeling is not disagreeable then it becomes a matter of
+not how much beauty is in the face but how much expression. That was
+certainly the case with Mme. Sarah Bernhardt. All of us know plain
+appearing persons whose faces, when they have something to say, become
+interesting and expressive.
+
+They impress us as individuals whose beauty is inside or spiritual.
+That is a lovely quality for the screen. On the other hand we know,
+all of us, persons who are generally considered beautiful whose faces,
+under any circumstances, have no more animation than a mask. These
+people strike us as spiritually barren, lacking in humor, or something.
+
+If my candidate for screen honors has simply an agreeable appearance
+and good eyes--which I consider most important of all facial
+features--I shall be satisfied provided his or her face, and
+particularly the eyes, are expressive.
+
+[Illustration: _A beautiful young star and her director, Mary Miles
+Minter and Chester Franklin._]
+
+It has been my observation that while beauty or good looks is largely a
+matter of opinion--which has furnished many lively debates--the quality
+of expression or animation is seldom denied those who possess it. For
+that reason my candidate, if he or she has an expressive face, will
+have a more valuable and certain stock-in-trade than mere good looks.
+
+In spite of this logic most of us stars go on wishing to be thought
+beautiful, or to have it thought that we could be beautiful if we
+wanted to be. I recollect that it took time and courage for some of us
+to brave our publics in other than our pet make-ups.
+
+There are, for instance, two stars who had always regarded their curls
+as indispensable. After many years of stardom one of them decided to
+take what she thought was a desperate chance. She skinned her hair back
+and played the part of a little English slavey. The result was that she
+turned out one of the most successful pictures in her career.
+
+Another, a dear friend of mine, we used to call “The Primper.” She
+never appeared upon the set without her curls just so. I think at that
+time she thought they were the most important part of her career.
+
+She has reformed. As her art developed she became less particular about
+her hair dress. One night in a little theater in Jamaica, Long Island,
+I dropped in to see one of her photoplays. It was an excellent picture.
+Her hair was drawn back tightly over her head into a knot. That night I
+wired her congratulations.
+
+No; curls, Grecian noses, up-tilted chins and rose-tinted cheeks are
+not the measure of success upon the screen. It is something that goes
+deeper than that.
+
+It is something that goes deep enough to over-ride facial defects.
+There is one excellent little star, for example, who, because of a nose
+unfortunately large, must always work full face when near the camera.
+I think she is charming. Another, for an odd reason, permits only a
+one-way profile to be taken. There are many such cases.
+
+Indeed, the majority of us have our “angles.” By “angles” I mean the
+full, three-quarters, one-quarter or profile views in which we think
+we appear at our best. Each star has studied that point out for his or
+herself. And, since we are taking largely our own opinion for it, it is
+possible we are mistaken. But our vanity upholds us.
+
+In my own case I was hauled into motion pictures while sitting rather
+forlornly on a soapbox waiting for my sister Marguerite. Since at that
+time I was without curls, having never had any before or since, and
+looked as I look, so to speak, it has never been necessary for me to
+expend any great amount of time in make-up. That has been satisfactory
+to me.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+ _The story, make-up and costuming--Rouge riots and_
+ _their disadvantages--The blond_
+ _and the “back spot.”_
+
+
+In any art or profession the ability to seize opportunity when it
+presents itself is important. This is especially true in motion
+pictures. Things move very fast there. It is like a game where the
+knack of doing the right thing at the right time determines one’s value.
+
+After the beginner has done his extra work, or small bits, if he is of
+the right stuff, he will some day be given a part. He may be unaware of
+it, but that will be the biggest moment of his screen career.
+
+When doing extra work or small bits the critics, the public, and the
+profession have paid little attention to the beginner. But once the
+beginner secures a part he comes instantly into the eye of everyone
+interested in the screen. We are all diverted by new faces.
+
+Thus the impression that the beginner will make in his first part is
+one that will for a long time endure. It comes very near making or
+breaking him. This may seem hard. Often it is unjust--a beginner may
+have a part forced upon him for which he is unfitted. But it is true.
+And we have to deal with conditions on the screen as we find them.
+
+For that reason when the big moment comes, and the part is secured,
+the beginner must do everything within his or her power to be as well
+prepared as possible.
+
+There are in this respect three important mechanical details that must
+be looked after. I should list them as follows:
+
+ (1) Studying the story.
+ (2) Studying make-up.
+ (3) Studying costuming.
+
+The beginner will be given the story--or script--typewritten in
+continuity form. Continuity means the scene by scene action through
+which the story is told. Ordinarily there will be some three hundred
+scenes or “shots” to the average photoplay.
+
+The beginner will first look to the plot and theme of the story. We
+want to know what the author is telling and how he is trying to tell
+it. We find the big situations and the action that precedes them. More
+important, we locate the why of it.
+
+When I have established the idea of the play I immediately go over the
+script again with an eye alert for business. By business I mean the
+tricks, mannerisms, and the apparent unexpected or involuntary moves
+that help to sustain action.
+
+The value of good business cannot be over-rated. It goes a long way
+toward making up for the lack of voice. Without clever business any
+photoplay would drag. The two-reel comedy, which I have observed is
+popular with audiences of all ages, is usually but a sequence of
+business.
+
+If the business that is planned upon seems natural to the
+character--the wiggling of a foot when excited, the inability to
+control the hands, the apparent unconscious raising of an eyebrow,
+etc.--I am sure there can be no real objection to it. The audience, who
+are the final critics, love it.
+
+Just the other night I saw Mr. Douglas Fairbanks in a play the final
+scene of which depicted him in the act of making love to his intended.
+That there might be some privacy to the undertaking they were screening
+themselves from the view of the guests--and the audience!--with a large
+silken handkerchief.
+
+The girl might have stood still. If she had there could have no
+criticism. Neither would there have been much of anything else, as her
+face was hidden from view. She laid her hands over a balustrade and
+wiggled her fingers. The audience roared.
+
+These are the things which keep a photoplay from dragging. They give
+the action a piquancy and charm.
+
+Now while the audience may believe that these things are done on the
+spur of the moment the facts are very contrary. These bits of business
+must be planned in advance and it is only an evidence that they have
+been well planned when they appear to be done unconsciously.
+
+While it is true that we have all discovered very telling bits of
+business during the actual photographing of a scene, we can count this
+as nothing but good fortune. To leave the matter of business until the
+director called “Camera!” would be fatal.
+
+Thus in going over a script I look for business. I think of all the
+business I can, knowing that much of it will prove impracticable and
+will have to be discarded. Nor is that all. When the scenic sets upon
+which we are to work are erected at the studio or on location, I look
+them over very carefully in the hope that some article of furniture,
+etc., will suggest some attractive piece of business. An odd fan, a
+pillow, a door, in fact, anything may prove valuable.
+
+I should suggest to my candidate that he or she be just as alert for
+good business as the star is. The good director is always open to
+suggestion. Business may make all the difference between a colorless
+and a vivid portrayal of a part. Thus for the beginner who, in
+obtaining a part, has reached the most vital moment of his career,
+the value of keeping an eye open to the possibilities of business is
+apparent.
+
+[Illustration: _Mary Pickford’s love radiates from the screen. A scene
+from “Pollyanna.”_]
+
+Make-up, like much of everything else on the screen, is a personal
+matter. There are, however, some general rules that can be followed to
+advantage.
+
+I should instruct my candidate not to make up too much. It seems to me
+that I have observed a tendency in this direction recently.
+
+Some actresses have laid on lip rouge so thickly that their lips seem
+to run liquid. Rouge photographs black. The result has been that this
+riot of lip paint has given them the appearance of having no teeth.
+Others have used too much and too dark make-up about the eyes. Nothing
+more quickly ruins expression. Such eyes have the look of holes burned
+in a blanket and for dramatic purposes are only slightly more useful.
+
+Since my candidate will have youth, good health and vitality he or she
+will not have to resort to tricks of make-up. There are many such. I
+recall the case of one actress who is considered a beauty on the spoken
+stage. On the screen she discovered that the motion picture camera is
+not very kind to some people. The lines and flabbiness which were in
+her face were accurately reproduced. She thought, of course, they were
+exaggerated.
+
+She was in despair until she found that by laying heavy strips of
+adhesive tape over her ears and behind her neck--she wore a wig--these
+lines and flabbiness were overcome. The tape pulled her face into
+shape! But, I am sure it must have been painful.
+
+Another actress, it is an open secret, undergoes periodic operations
+for the removal of the flabby flesh underneath her chin. Others
+afflicted with the hated “double chin” rouge the guilty member heavily
+with more or less success. Still others wear collars and necklaces to
+thwart flabbiness.
+
+None of us need laugh; that is if we are in motion pictures. If we stay
+there long enough we may be driven to similar measures.
+
+In make-up, to begin at the top, is to consider the hair. Let me say,
+first of all, that this should always be kept very clean. The camera
+has a way of treating us unpleasantly if it isn’t.
+
+Some actresses have set styles of hair dress which they seldom vary. I
+think of Madge Kennedy’s “band of hair,” Dorothy Gish’s black wig and
+the Pickford Curls.
+
+Dorothy Gish had tried many styles of hair dress and found none of them
+to her liking. She experimented with a black wig and was delighted with
+the result. It contributed something to her expression--brought it
+out, as it were--which she felt had been lacking. Since “Hearts of the
+World” she has never stepped before a camera without her trusty B. W.
+
+But while most of us have a favorite style of wearing our hair most
+of us are forced often to lay aside that style to suit the character
+we are playing. Playing a child we let our hair hang. The length or
+abundance doesn’t seem to particularly matter.
+
+If enacting the daughter of a well-to-do business man then we may have
+our hair plain or marceled to suit our fancy. Plain hair seems to
+suggest sweetness. If playing a saucy character we must contrive some
+dress that will convey the desired effect.
+
+Blonds, in motion pictures, are traditionally fluffy-haired. There is a
+very good reason for this, by the way. Some years ago Mr. Griffith--who
+usually does everything first--discovered that by leveling a back
+spotlight on Blanche Sweet’s fluffy, blond hair it gave the appearance
+of sunlight showing through.
+
+On the screen it was beautiful. Since that time the “back spot” has
+been worked to death. In spite of the fact that it is an old trick it
+is one that is still very much respected by the actress--or us blond
+actresses, as it were.
+
+The back light shining through the hair has a tendency to take away all
+the hard lines of the face. It leaves it smooth and free from worry.
+How often in a motion picture have I heard the involuntary expression,
+“How beautiful!” when such a shot--usually a close-up--is shown.
+
+Many of you may have wondered why a blond seems to have dark hair in
+many interior scenes and blond hair out of doors. Here is one fault,
+at least, that we can shift to other shoulders. If a blond’s hair is
+dark indoors it is because the cameraman has failed in his lighting
+arrangement.
+
+But even with the most expert manipulation of lights there is no rival
+in motion pictures for the sun. For blonds and brunettes alike he is
+Allah.
+
+And now since this matter of make-up requires more space and this
+chapter is growing long we shall skip to the next.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+ _More about noses and chins--Costumes as important_
+ _to the star as a story to the director--_
+ _Rags and riches._
+
+
+In the matter of face and make-up we seldom think of the forehead. Yet
+I personally admire a pretty forehead very much and think it is as
+important as a good mouth or nose, if secondary to the eyes. Comprising
+as it does--or should--one-third of the face it is nothing if not
+conspicuous.
+
+If to be deep and learned is to have an extremely high forehead then
+to be deep and learned on the screen is to labor under one definite
+handicap. For the girl with a too high forehead cannot skin her hair
+back without appearing ugly.
+
+Those of us with medium foreheads are more fortunate. Whatever may be
+said for our mental capacity we can, at any rate, skin our hair back
+and thereby add very much to our expression.
+
+The girl with the high forehead compromises by trying to keep some of
+it covered but it never gives quite the effect of hair drawn tightly
+back.
+
+I should particularly admonish my screen beginner against too much
+make-up about the eyes. For blue or gray eyes, a light gray make-up is
+used; for brown or black eyes, a light brown make-up.
+
+We frequently hear it said that brown eyes photograph best for the
+screen, but I have never heard anyone whom I would accept as an
+authority say that. I believe that all colors are equally good. It is
+far more important that a screen actress’s eyes be expressive than it
+is that they be either brown or blue.
+
+Thus if we have expressive eyes and evade the error of making them up
+so heavily as to create the “burnt hole” aspect we shall have nothing
+to worry about. Generally speaking the more prominent the eyes and
+eyebrows the less of make-up should be used. There are exceptions.
+
+A nose is something we can do nothing about. We either have or haven’t
+a good nose. If the nose is so badly out of symmetry with the face as
+to be unsightly its possessor will probably have to confine himself, or
+herself, to character parts. There are some who have attained stardom,
+even with ill-shaped noses, but I think of very few. These by devious
+practices conceal the defect as well as possible.
+
+Make-up for the nose is usually for character and not star parts. A
+spot of rouge at the tip of the nose will give it a turned up or pug
+appearance. When playing a mulatto in “The Birth of a Nation” Miss
+Mary Alden inserted within her nostrils two plugs that permitted her
+to breathe and yet had the effect of greatly widening her nostrils.
+The late and beloved “Bobby” Harron broadened his nose with putty in
+the same play in one of the scenes in which he doubled as a negro.
+The screen lost one of its sweetest and most lovable characters when
+“Bobby” Harron died.
+
+But these cases were characterizations. For star purposes a nose is a
+nose. The pity is that sometimes even well-shaped noses seem to lose
+something or gain too much when they are reproduced on the screen.
+
+The lips and chin require a light make-up for the very good reason,
+again, that to overdo in this respect is to stifle expression. It is
+my opinion that those who are becoming addicted to an extremely heavy
+make-up of lips are making a mistake. It is unreal. It is not art. Such
+thick, sensuous, liquid lips as I have beheld on the screen during the
+past year have never been seen on land or sea.
+
+The chin is a good deal like the nose. Very little can be done about
+it. If it protrudes too much, or is abruptly receding, its possessor
+will probably find himself chosen for character parts. Here what are
+otherwise considered facial defects will be no handicap at all. On the
+contrary they may be a decided help.
+
+As in the case of the ill-shaped nose there are stars who have
+succeeded in spite of an absence, or too great presence, of chin. They
+have learned the photographic angles at which they appear to the best
+advantage. In one way or another, when working close to the camera,
+they keep always within these angles. Thus they prove that there can be
+an exception to any rule.
+
+If in the matter of make-up I can convince my candidate that he or she
+will be better off by using as little as possible of it, I shall be
+willing to pass on to the next topic.
+
+Hands, too, must be kept clean and are usually made up with white chalk.
+
+I often think that costumes are to the star as important as the story
+is to the director.
+
+Whatever may be the case in everyday life clothes do make the man,
+or the woman, in motion pictures. They establish character even more
+swiftly than action or expression. No where so much as in motion
+pictures does the general public accept people at their clothes value.
+There are the over-dress of vulgarity, the shoddiness of poverty, the
+conservatism of decency and so on, each of them speaking as plainly as
+words of the person so attired.
+
+Now if mere over-dress, shoddiness, conservatism, and so on, were all
+that were necessary the process would be quite simple. But the art of
+costuming is more subtle than that.
+
+[Illustration: _Madame Nazimova, one of the few dramatic stars who
+quickly mastered the art of the screen._]
+
+In each costume there must be something original and personal. In other
+words, something that is peculiarly suited to the precise character
+that is being portrayed. There must be also a color contrast or harmony
+that will be favorable to good motion picture photography.
+
+In addition, the costume in a broader sense should harmonize with the
+scenic setting. The costume, more than anything else, will establish
+the fiction of age. To appear very young or middle-aged is to dress
+young or middle-aged.
+
+In addition to its value in suggesting character the costume has
+attained a new importance in that the screen has become a sort of
+fashion magazine. The thousands of young ladies who live outside of New
+York, London or Paris have come to look more and more to the screen for
+the latest fashions, and are accordingly influenced.
+
+With this phase of costuming my candidate need not particularly
+interest herself beyond remembering that women love to see pretty
+clothes and that those who give them the opportunity occupy an especial
+niche in their affections.
+
+The beginner who learns the knack of dressing for the screen in a
+manner that is sharply expressive of the character being played, and,
+in a way to bring out what the actress herself has come to regard as
+her strong point, will find her pains rewarded.
+
+Mr. Griffith has always been extremely painstaking about screen
+clothes. Even in the early days of the old Biograph two-reelers we had
+screen tests for costumes. It was no unusual thing to hear him say,
+after one of us had been at much pains to select a costume which we
+thought did justice to both our part and ourselves, “No, that won’t
+do!” Possibly we were trying to do too much justice to ourselves.
+
+Anyhow we often had as many as four costumes made before Mr. Griffith
+was suited. Then he invariably suggested a ribbon, a fan, a bit of old
+lace, etc., the effect of which upon the screen was always pleasing.
+
+I have been told that one of the sweetest and, at the same time, most
+pathetic scenes done in motion pictures occurred in “The Birth of a
+Nation” where I, as Flora Cameron, the little sister of the Confederate
+soldier, trimmed my cheap, home-made dress in preparing to welcome home
+my big brother.
+
+It was Mr. Henry Walthall, himself a southerner by birth, who suggested
+this bit of business.
+
+You will remember the situation. The Camerons, an old and distinguished
+Southern family, had been impoverished by the war. They were
+preparing for the return of the big brother--played capitally by
+Mr. Walthall--with the mixture of emotion to be expected under the
+circumstances. I, as the youngest member of the family, was least
+affected by our cruel poverty. The joy of being about to see my big
+brother again overcame any other feeling.
+
+I begin to dress. The sadness of my stricken family cannot affect my
+holiday spirit. I have but one dress. It is of sack cloth. I find
+that its pitiful plainness is not in keeping with my happiness or the
+importance of the event. Looking about for something with which to trim
+that dress I find some strips of cotton--“southern ermine,” as it was
+called. With these I trim that homely old dress, spotting the “ermine”
+with soot from the fireplace, in a manner that I think will be pleasing
+to my big brother.
+
+Mr. Walthall suggested the “southern ermine” and it was Mr. Griffith,
+always kindly in the matter of accepting a suggestion, who built the
+drama about it. I have had many women, from the North as well as the
+South, tell me that to them this scene is the most affecting they ever
+have seen in the picture drama. I know I have played few, if any, in
+which I have felt more deeply the spirit of the action.
+
+In “The Birth of a Nation,” by the way, all of us were forced to do a
+great deal of research work upon our costumes. This is a good thing. It
+gets one quickly into the spirit of the drama that is to be played.
+
+As I say, I have always appreciated the advantages of modish dress upon
+the screen even though I have had in my eight years of acting only one
+“clothes” part. By clothes part I mean one in which the star dresses in
+modern garments in every scene. I began my career as a screen waif with
+the result that the literary men who have to do with the stories picked
+for me, have kept me at this style of part.
+
+There is never a story written in which a poor, little heroine conquers
+against great odds--usually after much suffering and not a few
+beatings--but that many friends rush to tell me that so and so is “a
+regular Mae Marsh part.” Such is the power of association.
+
+Yet I very much enjoyed my one dressed-up part. That was “The
+Cinderella Man.” I understand that there was great doubt expressed
+by the scenario department that I should be able to play such a role
+for, since the heroine was the daughter of a wealthy man, there was no
+occasion for her appearing in rags.
+
+Miss Margaret Mayo, the well-known dramatist, who wrote “Polly of the
+Circus,” “Baby Mine,” etc., was here my stanch advocate. Both she and
+Mr. George Loane Tucker, one of our greatest directors, insisted that I
+could do the part. It was decided to make the trial.
+
+“Go to Lucille,” suggested Miss Mayo, “explain the story to the
+designer and let her show you the kind of costumes she would suggest.”
+
+Expense was to be no object. Mr. Tucker and I met one afternoon on
+Fifty-seventh street and, entering Lucille’s, we went into a clothes
+conference with a designer. The result was a mild orgy of beautiful
+gowns.
+
+It was decided that Lucille should make two dresses of a particular
+design, one green and one gray, as the gown which I was to wear in a
+great many of the scenes.
+
+Showing that cost does not indicate fitness I remember that the gray
+dress--which was $100 cheaper than the green--was the one which we
+decided to use. My costume bill for “The Cinderella Man” exceeded
+$2,000. There are many actresses who spend far more than that for
+clothes on every picture. But compared with the amount that I had been
+spending in my “poor girl” roles that $2,000 was as a mountain to a
+sand dune.
+
+“The Cinderella Man” was a great success and we were happy;
+particularly Miss Mayo and Mr. Tucker, who had never doubted that I
+could do a dressed-up part.
+
+The matter of costumes, then, is one of the important things that the
+beginner must consider. On the screen clothes may be said to talk;
+even to act. The male artists, I am sure, also realize this. But the
+actress, particularly, must always dress in a manner to get the maximum
+of benefit from her clothes whether they be cheap or expensive.
+
+In “The Birth of a Nation” during the famous cliff scene I experimented
+with a half dozen dresses until I hit upon one whose plainness was a
+guarantee that it would not divert from my expression in that which was
+a very vital moment.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+ _Camera-consciousness and a way to cure it--Why it is_
+ _fatal to imitate--Some scenes_
+ _in “Intolerance.”_
+
+
+The several qualities most likely to succeed upon the screen having
+been discussed, and the importance of knowing the story, make-up and
+costuming having been established, my candidate is now ready to go
+before the camera.
+
+All that has been done before is but to build up to this vital moment.
+The camera tells at once and usually in no uncertain terms whether one
+is possessed of star possibilities.
+
+It is a sort of court from which there is no appeal. For that reason
+every expression, every movement, every feeling and, I verily believe,
+every thought are important once the camera has begun to turn.
+
+Now the actress or actor is standing entirely upon her or his own feet.
+Previously they have had the benefit of all the advice and help that
+the many departments of a studio could proffer. In a word they have
+been able to lean upon someone else and to correct mistakes at leisure.
+
+It is different before the camera. The beginner will at once
+feel very much alone and terribly conspicuous. This tends toward
+self-consciousness, or camera-consciousness, which must be immediately
+overcome or success is impossible. Camera-consciousness is the bane of
+the beginner. I think most of us have suffered more or less from it. I
+have known actresses who possessed it to such a degree that, finding
+they could not rid themselves of it, they left the screen. By extreme
+good fortune this never happened to be one of my troubles.
+
+Self-consciousness on the screen is much the same thing as stage fright
+in the spoken drama and proceeds, I suppose, from the same source,
+which is the inability to forget one’s self.
+
+When a dear friend of mine first began playing small parts she found
+that she suffered from it. She also saw that it would certainly be
+fatal if she didn’t cure it.
+
+“For that reason,” she said to herself, “the best thing to do is to
+think so hard about the part that I am playing that I won’t have time
+to think of anything else.”
+
+She gave herself good advice. Anyhow it worked and I am sure it
+will be successful in the case of the average beginner. If so, then
+camera-consciousness will really be a blessing in disguise, for it will
+have taught the actress concentration upon her part and concentration,
+in every fiber of one’s being, I believe, is the big secret of screen
+success.
+
+I remember the case of one young actress who came to me in tears saying
+that when she rehearsed her part in the privacy of her own home, or
+dressing room, she felt every inch of it, but once under the gaze of
+the director, the assistant director, the cameraman, possibly the
+author and perhaps a number of privileged persons about the studio, she
+seemed to wilt.
+
+“Look at it this way,” I advised. “When you are acting the director has
+his work to do and is doing it. So has the assistant director. Likewise
+the cameraman and the assistant cameraman have their work to do and are
+doing it. So are the other actors. As for the lookers-on, request that
+they leave. Then imagine you are in a big schoolroom where everyone
+is busy at his or her lessons. You have your lesson to get which is
+concentrating upon your part. Go ahead with it.”
+
+It helped the girl in question. She has become a very excellent and
+charming star and while she still prefers to work upon a secluded stage
+she does not find it positively necessary, as do some actresses. In any
+event there is no trace of camera-consciousness in her acting.
+
+Camera-consciousness having been eliminated the beginner can now throw
+himself or herself entirely into the part being played. By throwing
+one’s self into the part I do not mean forcing it. Nothing is quite
+so bad as that. I mean feeling it. If you do not feel the particular
+action being played then the result will certainly be a lack of
+sincerity. We have already decided that that is fatal.
+
+Let me illustrate:
+
+While we were playing “Intolerance,” one cycle of which is still being
+released as “The Mother and the Law,” I had to do a scene where, in the
+big city’s slums, my father dies.
+
+The night before I did this scene I went to the theater--something,
+by the way, I seldom do when working--to see Marjorie Rambeau in
+“Kindling.”
+
+To my surprise and gratification she had to do a scene in this play
+that was somewhat similar to the one that I was scheduled to play in
+“Intolerance.” It made a deep impression upon me.
+
+As a consequence, the next day before the camera in the scene depicting
+my sorrow and misery at the death of my father, I began to cry with
+the memory of Marjorie Rambeau’s part uppermost in my mind. I thought,
+however, that it had been done quite well and was anxious to see it on
+the screen.
+
+I was in for very much of a surprise. A few of us gathered in the
+projection room and the camera began humming. I saw myself enter with a
+fair semblance of misery. But there was something about it that was not
+convincing.
+
+[Illustration: _Back to the old Mutual days with Blanche Sweet and
+Wallace Reid._]
+
+Mr. Griffith, who was closely studying the action, finally turned in
+his seat and said:
+
+“I don’t know what you were thinking about when you did that, but it is
+evident that it was not about the death of your father.”
+
+“That is true,” I said. I did not admit what I was thinking about.
+
+We began immediately upon the scene again. This time I thought of the
+death of my own father and the big tragedy to our little home, then
+in Texas. I could recall the deep sorrow of my mother, my sisters, my
+brother and myself.
+
+This scene is said to be one of the most effective in “The Mother and
+the Law.”
+
+The beginner may learn from that that it never pays to imitate anyone
+else’s interpretation of any emotion. Each of us when we are pleased,
+injured, or affected in any way have our own way of showing our
+feelings. This is one thing that is our very own.
+
+When before the camera, therefore, we must remember that when we feel
+great sorrow the audience wants to see our own sorrow and not an
+imitation of Miss Blanche Sweet’s or Mme. Nazimova’s. We must feel
+our own part and take heed of my favorite screen maxim, which is that
+thoughts do register.
+
+It is true that we have good and bad days before the camera. There are
+times when to feel and to act are the easiest things imaginable and
+other occasions when it seems impossible to catch the spirit that we
+know is necessary. In this we are more fortunate than our brothers upon
+the spoken stage, for we can do it over again.
+
+It is also very often true that even when we are entirely in the spirit
+of our part, and believe we have done a good day’s work, that there
+will be some mechanical defect in the scenes taken which makes it
+necessary to do them over, possibly when we feel least like so doing.
+
+In this event it is a good thing to remember that it doesn’t pay to
+cry over spilt milk. We must learn to take the bitter with the sweet.
+Fortunately the mechanics of picture taking are constantly improving.
+
+The hardest dramatic work I ever did was in the courtroom scenes in
+“Intolerance.” We retook these scenes on four different occasions. Each
+time I gave to the limit of my vitality and ability. I put everything
+into my portrayal that was in me. It certainly paid. Parts of each
+of the four takes--some of them done at two weeks’ intervals--were
+assembled to make up those scenes which you, as the audience, finally
+beheld upon the screen.
+
+Therefore, when first going before a camera it is well to resolve to
+put as much into one’s performance as possible. We cannot too greatly
+concentrate upon our parts. If we do not feel them we can be very sure
+they will not convince our audiences.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+ _Over-acting and a horrible example--the value of_
+ _repression and emphasis--How we_
+ _act with the body._
+
+
+Good screen acting consists of the ability to accurately portray a
+state of mind.
+
+That sounds simple, yet how often upon the screen have you seen an
+important part played in a manner that made you, yourself, feel that
+you were passing through the experiences being unfolded in the plot. I
+imagine not often.
+
+If a part is under-played or, worse, over-played--for there is nothing
+so depressing as a screen actress run amuck in a flood of sundry
+emotions--it exerts a definite influence upon you, the audience.
+
+You begin to lose sympathy with the character itself. You are
+interested or irritated by the mannerisms--often hardly less than
+gymnastics--of the actor or actress. You never identify such an actor
+or actress with the part they are playing for the very good reason that
+they are not playing the part. They are playing their idea of acting
+_at_ a part.
+
+In any event your interest in the story crumbles. What the author
+intended as a subtle character development flattens out. An ingenious
+plot is ruined by its treatment. You index that particular evening as
+among those wasted. I know. I have done the same.
+
+For those who would like to take up the screen as a career, however,
+such an evening may prove very profitable. For it is the learning what
+not to do that is important. There never was a character portrayal done
+upon the screen that could not have been spoiled without this knowledge.
+
+I have in mind a photodrama of 1920 that because of the excellence
+of its plot gained quite a success. But for me it was ruined by the
+ridiculous overacting of the heroine.
+
+She had beautiful dark eyes and seemed to think--it was a
+melodrama--that the proper way to display screen talent was to dilate
+and roll those eyes as though she were constantly in terror.
+
+She had added to that trick one of dropping her jaw which I understood
+to be her idea of the way to register astonishment. I cannot begin to
+describe the effect upon me of those horrified eyes and open mouth. At
+the end of six reels I felt like screaming. There was no time when I
+should have been surprised had she wiggled her ears.
+
+Either she was unfortunate in her choice of a director or he, poor
+fellow, was powerless to stop her once she had decided upon her
+program of mouth and eyes.
+
+One of the first things that a screen actress must learn is the value
+of emphasis. In the case that I have cited above the actress threw
+herself emotionally (?) so far beyond the mark in little moments that
+when a big situation in the development of the plot occurred she
+had nothing left. The impression consequently was one of a strained
+sameness. Than that there is no quicker way to wear out one’s audience.
+It is like shouting at one who has sat down for a quiet chat. The shout
+should be used at no distance less than a city block.
+
+No screen actress makes a shrewder use of emphasis than Norma Talmadge.
+She seems invariably to hold much in reserve with the result that when
+she does let go in a big emotional scene the effect is brought home
+to the audience with telling force. There are other actresses who
+play with reserve. But it is important that with Miss Talmadge her
+repression seems ever illuminated by the fires of potential emotion.
+
+The student of the screen will do well to study these matters of
+emphasis and repression. They are all important. Our manner of life
+itself is an accepted repression, outlined by laws for the streets and
+conventions for the drawing room. From the screen viewpoint repression
+is a vital thing, if for no other reason than the fact that it gives
+the audience a breathing spell. After a breathing spell it is the
+better disposed to appreciate emphasis.
+
+Whenever I study a scenario or story it is with an eye for the contrast
+of moods and the situations that call for emotional emphasis. I plan
+in advance of the actual camera work the pace at which I will play
+various stages in the development of the story. By shutting my eyes I
+can almost _see_ how the part will look upon the screen. If there is a
+sufficient contrast of moods and opportunity for emphasis I feel that I
+shall, at least, be able to do all within my power to make the story a
+success.
+
+The physical strain before a camera is a peculiar thing. At no time
+is the motion picture actress or actor called upon for a sustained
+performance such as is true on the spoken stage. For that reason we
+should theoretically be in condition to put forth our very best efforts
+on each of the short scenes or “shots”--averaging not over two minutes
+in photographing--that we are called upon to do. The ordinary director
+is well satisfied if he averages twenty “shots” a day during production.
+
+But here, I should say, appearances are deceiving. Genius has been
+described as the ability to resume a mood. In the case of motion
+pictures it is necessary that a mood be resumed not once or twice, but
+possibly twenty times during a day.
+
+[Illustration: _Norma Talmadge whose acting is notable for its
+admirable repression._]
+
+This is no less important than it is at first difficult. There may
+be an hour or two hours’ interval between scenes--often longer than
+that--and picking up the thread of the story where it was dropped, the
+actress must resume the mood of her characterization.
+
+I can suggest no better aid to this undertaking than retiring to one’s
+dressing room and remaining quiet. Absolute quiet is an excellent thing
+for the actress during the working day. It gives her a rest from the
+turmoil of the studio set. It provides her a chance to do a little
+mental bookkeeping on the part she is playing. I have found it a great
+help.
+
+This ability to resume a mood, however, soon becomes something that is
+subconsciously accomplished and for that reason need not be too much
+worried over by the beginner.
+
+There is one quality on the screen that the audience always likes. That
+is vivacity, and by vivacity I mean both of the face and the body.
+
+Vivacity in this respect is a lively and likable sort of animation
+which goes a long way toward establishing that mercurial quality which
+is known as “screen personality.”
+
+I have never heard anyone give a very good definition of “screen
+personality.” The most that can be said is that some seem to have it
+and some don’t. Certain it is that it is valuable quality, for it will
+not stay hidden.
+
+In the news weeklies that are so popular on the screen I can, in
+a group of men or women, almost instantly pick those persons who
+have screen personality. It makes them stand out sharply in contrast
+to their companions. Ex-President Wilson, for instance, has screen
+personality while President Harding, I am certain, will make a better
+President than he would an actor.
+
+The movement of the body contributes to this sought after animation.
+The body is almost the equal of the face in expression and the way to
+talk and use the hands and feet are things that must be sedulously
+studied.
+
+Many stage directors have advised famous actresses to “learn how to
+walk” and before a camera one not only has to learn how to walk but how
+to walk in many different ways.
+
+We would not, for example, expect a little girl on New York’s East Side
+to employ the same body carriage as a society girl walking down Fifth
+avenue. There seem to be so many schools of walking!
+
+Thus in going over a part it is of the utmost importance that we
+decide upon the way our heroine is going to carry herself and then
+throw our body, as well as our thoughts and expression, into our role.
+I have often used this matter of walking--I was about to say art of
+walking--to very good effect. I should advise the beginner to observe
+the many different ways in which various persons accomplish expression
+through the movement of the body.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+It was in the early days. It was in Yonkers. We were making “The
+Escape.” It was a street scene and we were working with a concealed
+camera. Mr. Donald Crisp was playing the brutal husband. He drew back
+his fist to strike me. I was the forlorn wife.
+
+“If yu’ touch that lady I’ll knock yer block off,” said a threatening
+voice.
+
+It was a young Yonkers bravo. Absorbed in the scene he had forgotten
+that it was acting, particularly with the camera concealed.
+
+I often think of that incident when at a picture play I hear someone
+say: “People don’t act like that in real life.”
+
+ * * * * *
+
+If I were a director there is nothing I should rank as more important
+than rehearsals. I do not mean merely running over the scene before
+it is filmed. All directors do that. The ideal rehearsal is one which
+calls together the leading parts perhaps a week before production and
+meticulously works out every vital scene in the story.
+
+No director of the spoken stage would think of producing a play without
+doing this. Yet in motion pictures a production that may cost twenty
+times as much as the average spoken drama is often put on with twenty
+times less of care in rehearsal. It is illogical and costly.
+
+Working with the director of the type who leaves everything until the
+last minute the actor or actress feels a strain that takes away from
+the performance rendered. On the other hand where painstaking rehearsal
+is practiced the actor acquires a poise and deftness of touch that
+justify the preliminary preparation, say nothing of the labor spared in
+editing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+ _Long shots, intermediates and close-ups--“Hogging_
+ _the camera” and ingenious leading men--_
+ _Keeping one’s poise under fire._
+
+
+While the actress will exert herself in every “shot” or “take”--as
+the separate exposures of a scene are called--she comes to know that
+the result of her acting upon the screen is greatly influenced by the
+distance from the camera that she has worked.
+
+There are, for our present purposes, three different distances which
+we work from the camera. There is the long shot, the intermediate and
+the close-up or insert. With the gradations of these we need not now
+concern ourselves.
+
+The long shot is usually taken to establish the atmosphere and setting
+of a scene. In this the actress finds herself ordinarily so far from
+the camera that her facial expression registers indifferently. For
+that reason the body movement, with which she is playing a character,
+substitutes for facial expression. She is known to the audience by her
+costume and carriage and makes her appeal largely through these.
+
+Most of the dramatic action is now played at three-quarters length;
+that is from the face to the knees. As we weave in and out of a
+scene, very often the entire body is shown and the feet have their
+opportunity for expression--they assuredly act!--but the majority of
+the intermediate shots through which the dramatic action is conducted
+cut off the lower part of the body.
+
+Here, in brief, is the combination of facial expression and bodily
+movement that establishes the actress. It will be through the
+intermediate shots that my candidate will make or break. All our
+preparation for a part and our fitness for it are here brought to the
+test.
+
+An important item in this phase of screen acting is the effect that
+those playing opposite will exert upon one. The good actor or actress
+helps one. Things seem to swim along. Work becomes a pleasure!
+
+But very often the actress will find that she is forced to work
+opposite other actresses or actors whose style is disagreeable. If
+they are too loud or too full of antics it has the effect of taking
+your mind off your work--if you let it! In such a case very often the
+director will observe the difficulty and a word of caution spoken in
+private to the offending actor or actress will improve conditions.
+
+But sometimes the director is not observing and you are forced to make
+the best of conditions. I recall one rather well-known actor who,
+to use a frank expression, “spits as he talks.” If I should ever be
+compelled to play opposite him again I should prepare myself either
+with an umbrella or a bathing suit. I think it was only his total
+unconsciousness of this habit that made it possible for me to continue.
+
+We women are told that we are very vain. Perhaps we are. But if my
+experience with male actors may be taken as a criterion I should say
+that vanity has been pretty well distributed throughout the world.
+
+With a few notable exceptions, I make bold to affirm that the leading
+man counts that day lost when he has not stolen the camera from the
+star (poor girl!) not once but several times. In the profession we call
+this “hogging the camera.”
+
+The tricks that some of these amiable gentlemen will play to keep
+themselves in the immediate center of the foreground deserve nothing
+less than a volume. This leads to many amusing experiences.
+
+I remember one leading man who had a habit of falling back from the
+camera during the progress of a scene. The result of this, of course,
+was to turn me toward him, leaving my back exposed to the camera. He
+was very ingenuous. I thought, at first, the habit was unintentional.
+
+But as work upon our play progressed he repeated this maneuver often
+enough to convince me that I was dealing with a rather clever artist in
+his way. I began to anticipate him. When he started to drop away from
+the camera, instead of turning toward him, as I had previously done, I
+stood still and practiced talking over my shoulder.
+
+This had the value, at least, of showing my face and not my back to the
+audience. In addition it gave me an unequal prominence in the picture,
+since he was standing three or four feet behind me. Realizing his
+disadvantage he quickly resumed a position beside me and thereafter
+abandoned his little trick.
+
+Since that time, however, I have seen him in other plays and he is
+quite as original as ever.
+
+I might go on indefinitely with such instances. Enough that the artist
+must be on her guard for it seems to be acting-nature to want to “hog
+the camera.” But as the stars and directors are aware of this tendency
+its accomplishment has become more difficult.
+
+It is particularly trying, too, to play opposite one of your own sex
+who insists upon over-acting. This is a common case. This kind of
+actress generally realizes that she has but a few important moments
+before the camera and is determined to make the best of them even if
+she has to “act the star off the set.” I have actually felt sometimes
+as though I were being pushed from the stage by some actress, who,
+without any particular reason, has come in like a whirlwind.
+
+[Illustration: _A long shot, the author, and some screen beginners in
+the days of “Hoodoo Ann.”_]
+
+The beginner will find himself best off if he does not let the style of
+those playing opposite him affect him too much. If the style is good
+take advantage of it. It will be real help. If it is bad one should the
+more concentrate upon his part and thus maintain his own poise under
+difficulties.
+
+If in these important intermediate shots where the most of the dramatic
+action is sustained we remember the various points that we have
+discussed we should come off acceptably.
+
+The silent drama is silent only in its completed product. Before the
+camera lines are spoken and it is of utmost importance that they be
+pronounced clearly and with feeling.
+
+In spoken sub-titles that are expressively mouthed and well-timed in
+the cutting, the sub-title seems to blend in with the voice--though it
+be unheard--of the speaker, particularly so to the spectator who is
+clever at lip-reading.
+
+While it is not necessary to memorize a great number of lines, as on
+the spoken stage, it is necessary that those lines which are read be
+given with the correct shade of feeling, just as they should be on the
+dramatic stage.
+
+Lines are particularly important to many persons who show a maximum of
+expression while speaking. Here the silent voice is a genuine asset.
+
+Most close-ups, or inserts, as we call them, are of the face alone.
+Sometimes there may be a close-up of a hand, a foot, etc., but the most
+acceptable style of direction these days seems to be not to overdo in
+this respect.
+
+In the close-up the face of the actress is usually about 24 inches from
+the camera. Every line of her face, every thought, indeed, her very
+soul, will now be more or less registered. Nothing, in the whole range
+of screen acting, is more effective than the close-up.
+
+The insert is always to depict a particular emotion. In a single scene,
+in the intermediate shots, we have perhaps expressed several degrees of
+feeling but in the insert it is a matter of one emotion at a time.
+
+Here we are not aided by the action or expression of any brother
+artist. It is entirely a matter of imagination or feeling. The lens of
+the camera, like the eye of a Cyclops, is staring sheerly at us and
+it is not necessary to feel its breath to believe that it is a living
+thing.
+
+When called upon for an insert we know precisely the emotion that we
+are supposed to express and will bend every effort to concentrate upon
+it.
+
+To begin with there are two important things to remember in the insert.
+One is that the make up should be very much lighter than in the long
+or intermediate shots; the other, that the action will be slower.
+
+The reasons are fairly obvious. If the same make up that is used in the
+dramatic action is continued it becomes immediately too conspicuous.
+Slower action is necessary because at the distance of two feet the
+camera is limited in the speed of movement that it can faithfully
+record.
+
+In the insert we are ever reminded of the value of repression. The mere
+expression of the eyes may be all that is necessary to convey to the
+audience the emotion of the player. The truth is that the effectiveness
+of the close-up seems to be in inverse proportion to the amount of
+facial action in it.
+
+When we behold an insert in which there is much grimacing and
+contortion of the face we realize that there is no real depth of
+feeling. It is playing at feeling.
+
+On the other hand I have seen vital emotion so delicately expressed
+in the insert that its effect was haunting and beautiful. Observe in
+“Broken Blossoms” and “Way Down East” the close-ups of Lillian Gish.
+
+Much as the good old “back spot” is popular among the fluffy blonds,
+so is the insert welcomed by all screen actresses. We believe that
+it shows us off at our best and brings us nearer, as it were, to our
+audiences.
+
+Yet there are some actresses favored over others by the insert. One
+whose features are naturally coarse, or hard, loses something when
+in close contact with the camera. Others, like myself, who have small
+features, and believe, therefore, that we are often at a disadvantage
+in the long and intermediate shots, are only too glad of the
+opportunity to prepare for an insert.
+
+Indeed, our directors sometimes make a jest of saying that we seem to
+want a drama of inserts. But it is never quite so bad as that.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+ _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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+ _Mr. Griffith and some of his methods of direction--_
+ _What everyone associated with the screen_
+ _owes to him--About patience._
+
+
+I have planned all along to dedicate this chapter to Mr. David Wark
+Griffith, and now that I have arrived at it, I find that my pen is
+unequal to the task. No mere chapter, nor book, could undertake to tell
+Mr. Griffith’s importance to motion pictures. The things that he has
+accomplished in the past ten years, invariably in the face of great
+odds, almost pass belief.
+
+For Mr. Griffith I have the strong and mixed feeling that the child has
+for its benefactor, or the student for a beloved preceptor. At an age
+now where I can more appreciate the many trials that he endured I look
+back fondly to those days when Mary Pickford, Blanche Sweet, Lillian
+and Dorothy Gish, Robert Harron, and myself were beginning our careers
+and at the same time founding what has come to be known as the Griffith
+school.
+
+Nor were we all. If the list of actresses, actors and directors who
+spent the formulative days of their screen careers with Mr. Griffith
+were compiled I believe it would be found to include many of those who
+have reached the heights. Mr. George Loane Tucker, Mr. Thomas Ince, Mr.
+Marshall Neilan and Mr. Raoul Walsh, to name but four, were directors
+that he started on the road to success.
+
+Those were the days of the old Biograph. I am sure they were of the
+happiest that any of us ever have spent. We made two-reelers then. But
+we made good two-reelers. And the guiding genius of the organization
+was Mr. Griffith, tireless in his quest for something new, something
+big, something that would expand and elevate this new art to which he
+had pledged his very soul.
+
+His energy in those days, just as it is now, was astounding. Traveling
+from New York to Los Angeles not long ago, I happened to meet aboard
+the train Mr. Griffith’s private secretary.
+
+“He seems never so unhappy,” she said, “as when he is taking a day off.
+He mopes around the studio, hands in his pockets, with an air almost
+comical. It is as though he were silently resenting such foolishness as
+days off.”
+
+With this energy I remember those early days best for Mr. Griffith’s
+infinite patience. I can truly say that he had the patience to make us
+succeed. He never despaired no matter how backward we might be. He
+kept at us constantly to bring out the best that was in us. And even on
+those extraordinary occasions when he seemed to lose patience--usually
+when we had worn his nerves to a frazzle--we always had that wonderful
+feeling that he was intensely loyal to all of us.
+
+Those were the days when in addition to schooling us to pictures Mr.
+Griffith was constantly experimenting with such things as close-ups,
+fade-outs, etc., that were to revolutionize the entire picture drama
+and lift it above the atmosphere of the nickelodeon.
+
+For he did lift it. And he is still lifting it.
+
+Not only those privileged few of us who consider ourselves of the
+Griffith school are indebted to his genius. Every actress, or actor, or
+director, on the screen today, who has a weekly salary that runs into
+three figures, can thank Mr. Griffith for making motion pictures big
+and prosperous enough to so recompense them.
+
+It is not the money that Mr. Griffith has made possible, but the
+dignity that he put into this new art for which we are most beholden
+to him. Motion pictures were lightly held until “The Birth of a
+Nation” shook an entire continent and showed the deep significance and
+possibilities of the screen art.
+
+It took the courage of the born fighter and worlds of confidence to
+put on such a picture as “The Birth of a Nation.” For here at one
+step he was doing the unheard of thing, the thing almost everyone in
+the profession said was impossible. But it wasn’t impossible to Mr.
+Griffith. He did it.
+
+He has continued to do things just as fine. And if there is one fault
+to which the most of us are addicted it is that we have come to expect
+more than is humanly possible of this patient, humble genius.
+
+In my correspondence I am often asked many questions regarding Mr.
+Griffith’s manner of directing. Wherein is it different from other
+directors? Wherein does it excel? How is it possible to become
+associated with him? Can he make anyone a star? And so on.
+
+These questions are, in a way, difficult to answer. So far as I know
+Mr. Griffith possesses no magic lamp by which he makes a star out
+of anyone. It is not any one quality--unless it be patience--but a
+combination of many that make him the foremost of our directors.
+
+Mr. Griffith is extremely human. There is no unnecessary flourish,
+or blowing of trumpets, about his manner of direction. That has the
+simplicity of true greatness. He never lords it over his players
+as I have seen some directors do. He is kindly, sympathetic and
+understanding.
+
+[Illustration: _Mr. Griffith, at the left, directing a scene in
+“Intolerance.”_]
+
+Perhaps we are about to do a very vital scene. Mr. Griffith tilts back
+in his chair--he has a manner of directing while seated--and may say to
+the actress:
+
+“You understand this situation. Now let us see what you would do with
+it.”
+
+Here is a direct challenge. The actress is put upon her metal. After
+giving the matter careful consideration she plays the scene after her
+own idea. If she does it well no one is quicker in his praise than Mr.
+Griffith. If otherwise, no one is more kindly in pointing out the flaws.
+
+In other words, Mr. Griffith gives the actress a chance. How different
+from other directors I have seen. They might say under the same
+circumstances:
+
+“You understand this situation. Now here is the way to do it. Follow me
+closely.”
+
+With that the director will proceed to act out a scene according to his
+notion of how a woman would conduct herself under given circumstances.
+The flaw in this is obviously that a man and woman have a way of acting
+differently in the same situation and Mr. Griffith, by letting the
+actress show what she would do, is shrewd enough to profit by Nature.
+Our self-sufficient director, on the other hand, wants us to act only
+as a man would think a woman _ought_ to act in a given situation.
+
+In this way Mr. Griffith draws out the best that is in his players,
+and, by seeming to depend upon them to stand upon their own feet,
+maintains an enthusiasm among his players--a sort of big family
+spirit--that I never have seen equalled in any other studio.
+
+I hope no one understands me to say that the actress, under Mr.
+Griffith, has the say of how she shall act. Quite the contrary! No one
+has a way of bringing a player more abruptly to his or her senses when
+he or she is unqualifiedly in the wrong.
+
+And no matter how well we think we have outlined a scene Mr. Griffith
+may entirely change it. When he does change it we know it is for a
+reason other than a fondness for showing authority. In other words, he
+has built up among his artists a great and abiding faith in his ability
+to do the right thing at the right time, or, as importantly, have it
+done.
+
+For another thing, Mr. Griffith is big enough not to be small about
+receiving suggestions. His people know that, with the result that they
+are always thinking up something to put into a scene that has not been
+written there. He listens attentively to these suggestions, even though
+he knows in advance that he probably cannot use one in a hundred of
+them. Yet that one may be important enough to balance the patience
+expended in listening to the other ninety-nine.
+
+To illustrate:
+
+In “The Birth of a Nation,” when the Cameron house was being mobbed by
+frenzied negroes and the family had barricaded itself in the cellar it
+was a matter of some moment how the little sister, which part I was
+fortunate enough to play, would be affected.
+
+I can hear your average director:
+
+“Roll your eyes,” he would say. “Cry! Drop to your knees in terror.”
+
+In other words, it would be the same old stuff. It is this same old
+stuff that makes so many pictures positively deadly. The least that can
+be said about this conventional style of doing things is that, if it
+cannot be criticized, neither can it be applauded.
+
+Mr. Griffith, when we came to the cellar scene, asked me if there had
+ever been a time in my life when I had been filled with terror.
+
+“Yes,” I said.
+
+“What did you do?” he inquired.
+
+“I laughed,” I answered.
+
+He saw the point immediately.
+
+“Good,” he said. “Let’s try it.”
+
+It was the hysterical laugh of the little girl in the cellar, with the
+drunken mob raging above, that was, I am sure, far more effective than
+rolling the eyes or weeping would have been.
+
+Mr. Griffith is quick to appreciate the involuntary action of one
+of his actresses while a scene is being played or rehearsed. As for
+instance, in the court room scene in “Intolerance” (“The Mother and the
+Law”) when I began unconsciously to wring my handkerchief and press it
+to my face.
+
+“Good,” he said, “keep it up!”
+
+We are gratified when Mr. Griffith accepts any suggestion for business,
+etc., for we know he has a fine sense of distinction and, for every
+idea we give him, he returns a hundred.
+
+This system of suggestion extends beyond the players to the mechanical
+department with the result that camera men and assistants, as well as
+assistant directors, are always on the alert for something new. They
+know their suggestion will be given due consideration. And for that
+reason to Mr. Griffith and his staff we owe credit for most of the new
+inventions of telling a story by pictures. This director is as expert
+in the mechanics of his art as he is bold in story conception.
+
+We are familiar with that smoky, hazy, beautiful close-up that Mr.
+“Billy” Bitzer invented by using gauze or placing the camera slightly
+out of focus. In some recent pictures bearing the “D. G.” stamp I have
+seen some beautiful blue values that I have not elsewhere observed.
+
+I find the space allotted to this chapter beginning to dwindle with a
+sense of having left unsaid so many important and interesting things
+about this wonderful director and his methods. But someday someone will
+set down the true estimate of the man who has done so much for the
+picture drama. And Time will write it even larger.
+
+Many of us are deeply indebted to Mr. Griffith and none of us owe that
+which can be repaid. For he gave us of his genius and personality and
+for these there is no return coin.
+
+Other directors I have had of many experiences and varied training.
+Sometimes we have succeeded and sometimes we have failed, and success
+is made only the more sweet by taste of failure. But whether we failed
+or succeeded we know, all of us, that we did our level best. That is
+something.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+In the matter of public acknowledgement the stage has never been so
+kind to its directors as the screen. We think of Belasco, Hopkins,
+Cohan, not forgetting Mr. Oliver Morosco, and are almost done.
+
+But on the screen, to name a few of many, there are the De Milles, with
+their uncanniness in seeming to make the screen talk; Tucker, with his
+painstaking thoroughness and ability to limn the separate values of
+a story; Neilan, with his quality of gay, unexpectedness; Tourneur,
+with his grand manner of picturization; Dwan, with his workman-like
+comprehension; Fitzmaurice, with his ability to make every scene
+beautiful as a painting; Walsh, with his all-around cleverness--all
+these are famous, and there are more.
+
+No medium has equalled the screen in its kindness to those who do
+creditable work. Witness, for instance, our camera aristocracy.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+While I have ridden faster than seventy miles an hour in an
+automobile, have been “ducked” in lakes, rivers, and oceans--two of
+them--have braved the wintry blasts of New England until I thought I
+was frozen, and done scenes with tigers, bears and lions, I have never
+feared greatly for my personal safety nor need the beginner.
+
+In really dangerous scenes “doubles”--acrobats, trick jumpers, bareback
+riders, animal trainers, etc.--dress in feminine garb to resemble the
+star, assume the role being played and risk death or danger for so many
+dollars a day. The star’s services are too valuable to the producer for
+him to allow her to take any unnecessary chances.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+ _Opportunity for home life of motion picture actress--_
+ _Los Angeles and New York as production_
+ _centers--Screen morals and such._
+
+
+In this final chapter I shall try to say something about the home life
+of the motion picture actress. In general actresses are of two classes:
+those who act both on and off the screen, and those who confine their
+efforts merely to the studio.
+
+The first class is not particularly open to censure. For, unless I am
+mistaken, the public desires to see its actresses act on an average of
+sixteen out of twenty-four hours. One friend of mine, a star, stoutly
+maintains that she would not go to the theater in anything except the
+most up-to-date garb and a conspicuous car! Why? Because otherwise
+there would be sure to be many who would be disappointed in her! If
+there is anything funny about this it is that it is somewhat true.
+
+Actresses, as public favorites, maintain a peculiar position, as Gil
+Blas points out, somewhere between royalty and the citizen without
+being of either. The public seems to feel something of pride when it
+points out some glittering dreadnaught of an automobile, conspicuous
+for color or equipment, and says, “There goes Dolly Twinkletoes!”
+
+Personally I have never had this inclination to act both “off and on.”
+I am afraid, having been of a large family, I should have found it
+extremely difficult even had I the inclination. A number of sisters,
+and a brother or two, are a fine cure for any tendency to undue
+importance.
+
+And now that I have an especially charming daughter, and am happily
+married, I must really be set down as a conservative. That baby of
+mine! Being detained beyond hours at the studio one night I hurried
+home to see her before she was tucked in bed, having no time to take
+off my make up. She gazed at me as though she were beholding a ghost or
+a total stranger!
+
+A Chicago picture critic once gave me such advice as I think fit
+to pass on to those who think of the screen as a career. “Save the
+pennies,” she said, “they can always be spent if you have them.”
+
+Yet how many, with a splendid opportunity, do not save! Then some day
+they wake up and find their golden chance gone. As an old philosopher
+has pointed out, we, who find money so easy at times, must guard
+against intemperance and folly.
+
+But this is not a sermon. We live up in the beautiful California
+mountains. There, in a colonial house on a small acreage, with flower
+and vegetable gardens, Airedales, chickens, a car, a cow, and a cat,
+I have a feeling of substantial worth-while happiness and that is the
+kind that counts.
+
+Indeed, one of the best things about motion pictures is that it
+permits of a home life. The actress in vaudeville or on tour, or even
+on Broadway with the uncertainty of the length of runs, never has any
+surety where she will be on the morrow. We, in motion pictures, are
+fortunate enough to sign contracts that usually call for a year or more
+work in one city and that New York or Los Angeles. This, I should say,
+is one of the most advantageous things about the screen as contrasted
+with the spoken drama. There are many others.
+
+Since Los Angeles and New York are the two centers of the motion
+picture industry each has its staunch advocates as to suitability, etc.
+In any group of actresses and actors this will usually be the topic of
+a lively discussion. Personally I like Los Angeles. At a dinner that I
+attended some time ago the head of a big distributing company, who is
+interesting for his shrewd observations, said there had never been a
+really great picture done in New York City. “For the entire atmosphere
+of life there,” he continued, “is too superficial.”
+
+I agree with him. Los Angeles is friendly and natural. Its climate is
+only one of its many virtues.
+
+The screen actress will be called upon to meet the people of the press.
+Interviews are important. She will find that the number of them will
+usually be determined by the degree of success of her newest screen
+play. As for screen writers, one will discover them, in the majority,
+keen, sympathetic and altogether delightful. No one need have the dread
+of coming in contact with them that I originally had; nor resort to the
+subterfuges to evade them. I was very young then.
+
+Public appearance is another factor the screen has to deal with
+and sometimes I think this is rather overdone. During the separate
+campaigns for the sale of Liberty Bonds all of us tried to do our
+share. While I never hope to be able to make a speech, I find that the
+anticipation of being expected to do so fills me with greater terror
+than actually being called upon.
+
+I believe it is a good idea for the actress to cultivate some companion
+art. In between productions, or during an enforced vacation, she will
+have something then as an off-set to mere indolence. I have been
+interested in sculpture for many years, and I have an ambition to do
+something in it that will be of real value. If I don’t, the ambition
+will have been of real value, for it has assisted in providing me with
+many happy and instructive hours. That is the main thing.
+
+[Illustration: _The author at home and happy._]
+
+The study of another art is interesting, too, because we immediately
+perceive in its form and substance the truth of the saying that all
+arts are one. Sculpture is a matter of repression and emphasis just as
+acting is. And when I am doing the figure of my baby, or modeling from
+life, I am startled to find that my errors, in their way, are akin to
+the errors of the beginning actress.
+
+There may have existed at one time a silly idea that actresses
+shouldn’t marry; that it hurt their box-office value, destroyed an
+illusion, etc. As though actresses were not women! Most of my actress
+friends are married and glad of it. Almost without exception those
+who have gone highest in the profession are married. The public has
+invariably been pleased about it.
+
+I should recommend any young actress to a suitable husband. It
+will give her a better and deeper insight into life and broaden
+her sympathy. There is something a little pitiable, something that
+doesn’t ring quite true, about the actress too ready to boast of her
+star-spangled freedom.
+
+I have often been asked about the morals of motion pictures. Will
+someone tell me why we, all of us, are so deeply concerned with our
+neighbor’s morals? And when we find them not all that could be desired
+are we filled with sorrow and the wish to effect an honest reform, or
+with a sort of unholy joy and a desire to spread scandal?
+
+It has been my observation that in motion pictures a girl can be as
+good as she wants to be. In that way our profession is identical with
+others. It is true that the glamour of the screen has attracted people
+who would be undesirable in any business or profession. But we should
+recognize them as such and never mistake them as representing the
+entire profession.
+
+The majority of those who succeed in motion pictures do so by honest
+work. That means long hours and application. I doubt if the average
+successful business man puts in as much time or as high-tension effort
+as the picture actress, actor or director who gets somewhere. My
+friends are of that kind. They are too busy to worry unnecessarily over
+what the public may think of motion picture morals. They assume only to
+regulate their own conduct.
+
+I have enjoyed doing this book. From time to time I have been forced
+to drop my work upon the urgent appeal of my eighteen-months’ old
+daughter. She has gorgeous blue eyes with lashes long as twilight
+shadows. Her cheeks are exquisitely pink and her little mouth is like
+a rose-bud in spring. Her name is Mary. She has brought me worlds of
+undreamed of happiness.
+
+Someday Mary may want to go upon the screen. Even now she acts before
+the long mirror. If she can, in any way, secure her mother’s hat she
+gives a complete performance. My blessed baby!
+
+When the time has arrived for her to start upon her career I shall
+place my little book in her hands and say:
+
+“There is the most and the best that I knew about the screen back in
+those old-fashioned days of 1921.”
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s Notes
+
+ Inconsistent hyphenation has been retained.
+ p. 30 changed “had” to “has” in “she has contributed”.
+ p. 40 changed “The” to “the” in “Polly of the Circus”.
+ p. 46 added a period in “mask. These people”.
+ Removed excess whitespace at bottom of p. 89 and top of p. 90.
+ p. 97 changed “diffculties” to “difficulties”.
+ p. 99 changed “bonds” to “blonds”.
+ p. 115 changed “closelly” to “closely”.
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77829 ***