A Close Up of Michael Curtiz (1937) 🇺🇸

A Close Up of Michael Curtiz (1937) 🇺🇸

December 29, 2021

A personal interview with the man who directed The Charge of the Light Brigade as well as “Front Page Woman,” “The Walking Dead,” Captain Blood, “British Agent,” and “Black Fury.” Here is a story of an interesting character, who is one of the most versatile directors in the Industry.

It would be difficult to catch the engaging Austrian accent of Michael Curtiz on paper. It would also be difficult to draw a word-picture of the man himself, but a few sentences will help to place his portrait in your mind.

Mr. Curtiz’ claim to fame in Hollywood may have nothing to do with his manner of speech, nor with the deep coat of tan on his face, nor with the amazing checkered shirts that he sometimes wears, nor with his riding boots that usually need polishing. But it does concern the terrific amount of energy he expends during the making of a picture. And all of these things are so definitely a part of the man himself that they become important in any story about him.

When it comes to handling action in the mass there is no better director than Michael Curtiz; few men know as much about tempo as he does. Few men know how to use technique to cover deficiencies in plot, actors or sets, so well as he. In a sense, he is an opportunist. If he goes on location and the weather is bad, he changes the scene to suit the weather. He did this time and time again on The Charge of the Light Brigade and saved his company a great deal of money.

There was one scene of a horse-buying expedition filmed at Lone Pine that illustrates this. The script called for a fine, sunny day. The day was neither fine nor sunny; up on Mount Whitney a snow storm was raging and a bitter wind swept across the location scene. Mr. Curtiz did not send his troupe home. He set up some wind machines and filmed the scene through a sand storm, making one of the most exciting and realistic sequences in the picture by taking advantage of an opportunity that would have been wasted in the hands of a person less alert.

There is one thing that Michael Curtiz dislikes. (Besides parsnips, which are his pet hate!) He doesn’t like trick shots and camera angles. He believes that straight camera work is best when the scene itself contains vivid action. He also feels that love-scenes should be quietly subdued when the rest of the picture is active and dramatic. Striding back and forth he illustrated this, using his hands in great gestures to make his point. It is contrast that he desires in story telling. In other words, if the hero returns from a wild battle, to an equally violent and exciting love-scene acted with the same tempo, the sameness of the two scenes would cause the beholder’s interest to pall and the result would be disappointing.

He believes in truth and authenticity in pictures also. For example, in one instance, one of his assistants came to him with the suggestion that work horses could be procured cheaper than the spirited chargers that the script called for: that the harness marks deep in their hides could be covered by using the camera at angles, with the riders trailing their fluttering banners a little lower.

“But that’s cheating,” said Mr. Curtiz. “I don’t like to do it. Get spirited horses and well shoot dem so! With the sun shining on their lovely satin coats.”

There is an example of the scrupulous standard by which Michael Curtiz works.

On the set of The Charge of the Light Brigade Mr. Curtiz sat staring into space, his legs in the dusty riding boots stretched in front of him. A scene had just been shot, and the company waited for the verdict.

Finally he spoke.

“Dose tings,” he said, and shook his head.

The two prop men, Limey Plews and Scotty More, knew that he meant the props on the set before him. They removed some of them. Props are always “dose tings” to Mr. Curtiz and, as a matter of fact, the rest of the cast call them that throughout a picture on which he works.

“And it was hammy,” added Mr. Curtiz. “Very hammy. Why should you not be simple? Why should you not talk like peoples talk? One more rehearse and we take it over!”

A rehearsal is always a “rehearse” with Mr. Curtiz. His use of the English language is amazing. He admits that it has him stumped. One example of his tangles with the tongue of this country w as when he sent an assistant to do something and when it was done improperly he exploded: “The next time I send a dumb so-and-so I send myself!”

Another time, desiring that riderless horses be brought on the set, he shouted: “Bring on de empty horses!”

One need only spend a half-hour on the set with Michael Curtiz to hear quoted many instances such as these. After ten years in America, English is still a mystery to him and he has long since given up being sensitive about it. Riderless horses are “empty” to him and “empty” they always will be. However, though English has him stumped, he is never at a loss for ability directorially. If the story is about American small town life, he is as American as Sinclair Lewis. If it is about Paris, he’s continental as Maurice Chevalier. If it’s a mystery he delves right in with the subtlety of a Van Dine. It is this quality which has made him famous as a versatile and ingenious director.

When excited, be resorts to pantomine. During the filming of the massacre sequence for the “Charge” he wanted the border tribesmen to fire volleys into the women, children and lancers in the water. He picked up the microphone and, using it as a gun, gave a graphic demonstration of what he wanted though what was said was lost to all but those close at hand because the microphone was nowhere near his mouth. This was probably just as well because Mr. Curtiz was excited and his instructions then need considerable translation. However. his pantomime must have been excellent, for the border tribesmen followed instructions to the letter and the scene was only taken once.

A biographical sketch of this director would include the facts that he was horn in Budapest. Hungary; that his father was an architect and his mother a concert singer; that he discovered Lili Damita, now Errol Flynn’s wife; that he once directed Garbo; that he was a strong man in a circus and a lieutenant in the Austrian army during the war; that he has made pictures in Austria, Sweden, France and Denmark; that he was an actor in Max Reinhardt’s company and that he is married to Bess Meredyth, the scenario writer. An additional sentence could say that he loves to play polo and has made some thirty pictures all of which are successful.

His belief in the picture The Charge of the Light Brigade is great. He hopes it will prove to be one of the biggest winners of all time. It is this energy and enthusiasm that has charged the entire company during the filming of the picture. A close bond exists between Michael Curtiz and Sol Polito, the director of photography on the “Charge” with him. To Polito, Michael Curtiz is always “Mishka.”

The words forceful, enthusiastic, self-reliant and intelligent each in its highest meaning can be used describing this man.

His cosmopolitan background, years of experience in his chosen vocation, and his dynamic vitality assure Michael Curtiz an interesting and promising future.

Art director Johnny Hughes submits a miniature set for the picture The Charge of the Light Brigade prior to building it.

Director Michael Curtiz on the left, approves, as does Sol Polito, cameraman, on the right.

An exciting battle-scene from the famous “Charge of the Light Brigade.”

Source: Motion Picture Studio Insider, January 1937

Source: International Motion Picture Almanac, 1937/1938