CHAPTER XVII

So much discussion has been set down in these pages regarding the results obtained when a director prepares his own continuity or when he works without a continuity in his hand; and it has been explained that a large number of directors produce the best results when they collaborate with their continuity writers, that the question naturally arises as to who is the actual creator of the motion pictures seen on the theatre screens. Is the director the creator? Or is the continuity writer the creator?

This is a question that can't be answered without giving immeasurable offense to the one group of artists or the other. Every director will publicly announce that he and his fellows are the creators. And every continuity writer will announce the same thing. Having had considerable experience in the continuity line and never having directed a picture, I will probably be accused of bias when I side with the writing men. However, the facts of the case seem to point solely to the conclusion that the writers are the creators. The very directors who decline to follow a written continuity in their work give particular significance to this statement.

It has been shown that D. W. Griffith and a number of his lesser disciples decline to use a continuity on the ground that it cramps their originality. They can't make a good picture following another man's continuity. What better answer could be found than that in answer of the question, “Who is the creator of a picture?”

Both the De Milles are frank with the statement that they work long and arduously over the preparation of their continuities. Then there is Thomas H. Ince's method which, as explained, stresses the importance of the continuity above all else. It appears to be plain, therefore, that the continuity is generally regarded as the beginning of everything with respect to the motion picture. Of course, the original story comes first of all and is vastly the most important matter for consideration. But the original, as a general rule, is not a picture story. From the original story the continuity writer creates the picture.

The continuity writer thinks in pictures. If he is efficient he is able to visualize his work as he goes along. When he has finished his task he has a completed picture in his mind. And if his continuity is a perfect work he has a completed picture on paper. And, still further, if the director is capable of visualizing, he discerns this completed picture that lies before him on paper and proceeds to transfer it to the celluloid.

The man who carries out the plans for the construction of a giant building or of a subway, the man who does the actual building of a great ship or the man who directs a picture, are not the creators of their work. The creators are the men who draw up the plans.

The reason why directors claim that they can't get the best results working with another man's continuity is that they realize that directing has its limitations. To actually create they must invade the field of creation. And so the Griffiths and the De Milles invade the continuity writers' field and do creating on their own accounts. And some of them, of course, are creators of excellence.

Then, these matters granted, why bother about the continuity writer, it may be asked. Without going to the defense of these greatly abused fellows it may be emphatically stated that without the continuity writer the directors would find their work greatly deteriorating. In the field of production today there are certain directors who insist on doing their own continuities, who refuse even the slightest assistance or suggestion from an outside source. Many of these men grow “stale” in their work and turn out uninspired and mechanical pictures. They “live” with a picture too long. They get to know it so well that they slight it. They know it so well that they think everyone else is on the same familiar footing with it. They see it through their own eyes only and they see it through colored glasses that obligingly obliterate all its faults and intensify its merits. These men won't let anyone touch one of their pictures in any process of production. They even insist on doing the actual cutting and editing of the film and the writing of the subtitles. Their work is, as a rule, artless, tedious to watch and flat in the majority of effects striven for.

This condemnation of the man who combines both the arts of writing for the screen and directing is not to be taken without exception. The rule is like every other rule and wouldn't be a rule unless there were here and there an exception to it.

So, instead of a creator the motion picture director really finds himself in the same position occupied by the man who sets out to translate a book from one language into another. The work has already been created and lies before him needing only his deft touch to recreate it through a different medium than type. Recreate seems to be the proper word. Deprived of the privilege of calling himself a creator, a director can at last call himself a recreator.

And when a director proceeds to translate a work of his own from type to picture form he is filling both positions. However, the fact that he is creating in one of his capacities, doesn't mean that he is creating in the other as well.

This sudden depriving of the director of all award in the creation of a motion picture and handing it to the screen writer may not seem at all just. There are directors who will say that such a claim is ridiculous, who will say that a continuity writer cannot possibly be the creator of a picture because he doesn't know the exact topography of the exterior location or setting to be used as background for the scene, who will say that there are hundreds of times when little pieces of “business” suggest themselves on the moment to the director.

These and dozens of other arguments will be advanced to riddle the statement that the continuity writer is the creator. But the statement will still stand as a fact. The slight changes necessitated when an exterior location presents some unusual topography never seriously change the plot of the picture. The business introduced, if it is good business, enriches the plot so much the more. Then if the director wishes he may designate himself as a decorator in addition to a recreator.

But despite all these words that seem to detract from the glory of the director, his work remains a high art, tremendous and difficult to master. His task of translating from the printed page to the strips of film is no child's play by any manner of means. To accomplish this work he must bring into play all his talents, his experience, his level-headedness, his judgment of story values, his ability to handle people, his knowledge of dramatic construction and so on and so forth. If he hasn't many talents he is liable to keenly feel the lack of them before he has progressed far on his work.

The fact that the average director refers to his continuity or rather somebody else's continuity to guide him is no reflection on his own ability. It produces proper balance in the work of picture making and the director knows it. He knows too that the art of picture making is no exception to the old rule that two heads are better than one.

The best scheme of things and one which is followed in many studios today is to have a director and a continuity writer work hand in hand not only on the construction of the picture story but also on the director's end of it—the writer acting in the capacity of supervisor and advisor to the director. This method of procedure has produced some of the best pictures recently made.

It would be ideal if human nature in general didn't contain those qualities which make armies and navies necessary and which make cats and dogs fight.