CHAPTER XIX

RECENT DEVELOPMENTS IN STAGE PRODUCTIONS

Although the mounting and staging of photo-plays has been greatly improved, the art has still many imperfections. This is partly due to the conservative character of the industry. There is a lack of initiative and enterprise; the producers are content to keep in the one groove which was established years ago. No one can deny that enormous sums of money are expended upon the mounting of the productions, nor assail them from the photographic viewpoint. But there is a lack of art which at times is sadly jarring.

This was to be expected. When the English pioneers embarked upon the play-producing business they knew nothing about stage-craft. Their ambition was rather to perfect the photographic quality of the films. So rapidly did the movement advance, however, and so insistent was the public in its demands for better, larger, and more lavishly staged plays, that the pioneer found himself out-distanced. At this juncture came the man who had won his spurs in the theatre, and who was thoroughly expert in the technique of stage-craft. His professional knowledge lifted the art out of the hands of the pioneers, who retired from the scene.

The introduction of the professional element commenced in France, and was taken up immediately by the Americans. These two countries went ahead so rapidly that Great Britain was soon left behind. The world became flooded with French and American productions, and in this healthy race the latter soon went ahead and took premier position. The French industry, being threatened, pulled itself together, and taking a cue from American methods it overhauled its organisations and increased its expenditure, with the result that it soon attained the level of excellence achieved by the United States. At a later date the Italian industry, which was in a languishing condition, followed suit. Money was sunk in the enterprise, huge studios were built, and talented artists were engaged to act before the moving-picture camera.

Great Britain lagged in this race, and it is only recently that the British producers, by a change of method have been able to make up the leeway. The British movement was rather of a sporadic nature. It was left to one or two enterprising firms to show the way. But others have followed, and to-day there is the keenest rivalry in producing, nor is expense considered so long as the public gets what it wants. To sink £3,000 ($15,000) in a single production has become quite a common venture.

In many cases, however, in spite of these changes, photo-plays still follow the lines that prevailed ten years ago. The blemishes, defects, and anachronisms are just as pronounced now as they were then, though they are suffered in silence by the public. Many faults are hidden by the gorgeous and lavish mounting of the scenes, while the rapid action of the players serves to distract attention from the shortcomings of the environment. But the feeling of actuality, which ought to be the great feature of the cinematograph, is missing. The scenic accessories might be left out for all the effect that they produce.

As a matter of fact the photo-play stage occupies to-day the position of the theatre twenty years ago. The scenery is for the most part make-shift, crudely painted in the neutral black and white, the stock room being ransacked to discover pieces of canvas to fit the situation. There is no attempt to create an artistic effect. Also there is an entire absence of reality or individuality. A cell scene, for instance, bears every sign of being built of canvas and battens, and so does the exterior of a mediæval castle, or the inside of a conservatory, and completed by a factory hand.

Sometimes the shortcomings of the studio-stage are avoided by setting the plays in an outdoor surrounding, and in this instance a far more realistic effect is produced. The audience is unconsciously carried away. This has been specially realised by some of the American, Danish and Italian firms.

In France the Gaumont Company has shown equal enterprise. So far as possible the elaborate productions of this company are acted in a scene suited to the plot, whether it be a sixteenth century castle or a modern hotel. There is ample opportunity for doing this, and the present popularity of the photo-play proves the wisdom of the policy. During the summer months as many as six different companies will be working in as many different corners of Europe, acting plays in the open air for the picture palaces. Even the interiors in Gaumont films are often real and not merely constructed for the occasion. As a rule the studio is used only during the winter when the climatic conditions are unfavourable for outdoor work. This is the chief reason why the Gaumont films to-day are in such demand, and why the company has forced its way to the front.

The conveyance of players to a suitable natural setting is expensive, but it represents all the difference between success and failure. Of course, there are occasions when a natural setting demands a certain amount of artificial embellishment. This was the case in the filming of Hamlet, as presented by Sir Forbes Robertson and his company. A sea background and a battlemented castle were required. The former was quite easy to find, but the combination of the two was more difficult. The problem was solved by the choice of Lulworth Cove as the scene and by erecting a solid set to represent the castle. In this case the preparation of the extemporised castle was so thorough and careful that it looks like a weather-beaten stone building.

The photo-play stage will be forced to emulate the current practice of the theatre. It must bring the artist to bear upon the work. At the moment it is merely a combination of the photographer and the stage-manager or producer. The latter is not always an artist, though he is clever at making existing facilities suit his purpose. The theatre is holding its own principally because it respects the artistic side of the issue. Individuality is encouraged. The photo-play stage will have to follow the same line of action. Directly this is done the picture palace will become a spirited rival of the theatre.

For this reason the efforts of Sir Hubert von Herkomer, the eminent British artist, are being followed with interest. He was attracted to the photo-play producing business owing to the artistic atrocities perpetrated by the professional producer of film plays. He is not attempting to achieve any revolution, except in the mounting and acting of plays for the camera, but in this sphere he hopes to bring about a recognition of the part that the artist must play.

There is a complete absence of sensationalism about the artist-producer's work, and in this respect he goes against the conventions. He is deliberately flouting many of the accepted tenets of the photo-play production, and his attitude is certain to meet with some hostile criticism. But from the realist point of view he is correct. His matter-of-fact productions give verisimilitude to the scene and story, and brings them within the range of probability. There is no straining after effect. No detail is introduced unless it has a distinct bearing on the subject. The costumes are faithful to the last button. If a sixteenth century farmhouse is wanted, it is built, and built so well that in the picture it has every appearance of having been built of stone.

A feature which will be appreciated in the Herkomer productions is the suppression of the harsh and distressing blacks, greys and whites, which under brilliant illumination often convey the impression of snow. Nor do the players seem to be suffering from anæmia. These appear to be trivial matters in themselves, but they greatly affect the ultimate whole. The robust aspect of the peasant who lives out of doors is faithfully conveyed, and he is thrown up in sharp contrast to the white-faced townsman. In the conventional picture-play, on the other hand, there is no individuality of facial expression, because one and all are made up in the same way.

Sir Hubert von Herkomer has commenced his work in a logical way. He confesses that until he began it he knew nothing about it. He was not harassed by a partial knowledge of how things are done. He is essentially a pioneer, content to work out his own ideas, and possessed of views upon stage-craft which are not to be despised. They had a good effect upon the theatre twenty or thirty years ago, and have lately been revived by another enthusiast. So Sir Hubert von Herkomer is not likely to be the slave of tradition.

He maintains that in the average photo-play everything is sacrificed to rapid action. This is true, and it is done purposely to distract attention from the weakness of the rest. The spectator must fix his attention upon the characters or he loses the thread of the story. No time is given him to see the deficiency of atmosphere or environment. The result is that everything is rushed through as if the villain and hero were racing the clock. To realise this it is only necessary to follow the film-play of a well-known historical story. Familiarity with the incident here gives the spectator a chance of taking in the setting and the mounting. If there are mistakes, interest gives way to mirth and all concentration is lost. The picture is followed with no more enthusiasm than a pantomime. This is the main reason why producers are chary of portraying well-known historical episodes upon the screen. One educational authority has described such films as burlesques, and that is among the causes of opposition to the cinematograph as an educational medium. In one instance an attempt was made to film an incident in one of Fenimore Cooper's stories with white actors made up as Red Indians. It was acted in a well-kept private forest instead of in the wild woods of Canada. But young and old proved to be too familiar with this author's works. They had too true a notion of the Canadian timber wilderness to be impressed by the substitute on the screen, and received the presentation with the ridicule it deserved. The sight of a Red Man slouching through the bush with out-turned feet and trying to conceal himself behind a tree less than six inches in thickness, proved to be merely comic. But other things equally ridiculous are found in many of the films of to-day, and that is the reason why the scenes are so judiciously rushed.

By slowing down the speed of acting, though without reducing the sustained interest, Sir Hubert von Herkomer contends that the public will be put in a position to grasp the whole subject, and will be able to follow it more rationally and comprehensibly. At the same time the players will have time and scope to perform their parts properly. There is not the least reason why this should not be achieved without allowing the action to flag or the interest to drop.

The lighting of the subject is another important feature to which Sir Hubert von Herkomer is giving attention. The illumination must be arranged to suit the situation, and as cinematography offers the utmost latitude in this respect, it is unnecessary to rush to violent extremes. In many productions the studio stage is suffused with such an intense glare that all facial expression and shadows are sacrificed. Sir Hubert has realised how great is the scope for improvement in this direction, and is altering the whole principle of stage lighting. Similarly, in outdoor work he is supplementing sunshine with arc lights, so as to secure the steady illumination necessary for good effects. The combination of brilliant daylight and artificial illumination is a novelty in photo-play production, but when the action is taking place under trees, where the shadows are heavy and in sharp contrast with scattered patches of brilliant sunlight, the players are apt to present a phantom appearance. Sometimes they are scarcely distinguishable. The introduction of auxiliary light relieves the shadowy places and softens the general effect. Needless to say the manipulation of powerful arc lights under such conditions demands skilful handling, but in the Herkomer films the improved results certainly show that the labour is not wasted.

Whether the combination of artist and producer will prove successful time alone can show. There will be a certain amount of commercial opposition, lacking in artistic feeling, and hostile to innovation. But the appearance of the artist and his resolution to work out his schemes logically should surely be encouraged by the public. The same reforms that changed and improved the theatre, enabling it to hold its own against the all-conquering picture palace, have a mission to the latter also. They can lift it to the higher level that is its obvious destiny.