Henry Kolker (1916) 🇺🇸

Henry Kolker, who heads the supporting company in Gloria’s Romance, the George Kleine motion picture novel in which Miss Billie Burke is the featured star, has proven time and again on the screen that he is just as capable a star when appearing in the silent drama as he is on the speaking stage where he can use his voice to aid his pantomime; but perhaps never has his playing been more impressive than in his present vehicle. As Dr. Stephen Royce, the young physician who falls in love with Gloria Stafford, Kolker grows better and better as the story progresses.

This talented player began his career with the German Stock Company of Milwaukee, Wis., studying under the direction of the then leading man of that company, Franz Kauer, and soon afterwards went over to the American theater, joining Robert Downing in such plays as The Gladiator, Damon and Pythias, Virginius, Ingomar, Othello, David Garrick and Richard the Lion Hearted. After spending two seasons with Mr. Downing, Kolker headed the company supporting James O’Neill in Hamlet, The Courier of Lyons, Virginius and Monte Cristo. His first New York appearance was made at Wallack’s theater, where he played Guiderius in the big revival of Shakespeare’s Cymbeline. The next five years were spent as leading man of stock companies in Buffalo, Syracuse, Rochester, Indianapolis, Montreal, Philadelphia, Newark and Denver, and at the end of that period he was cast for the title role in Sergeant James, Eugene Walters’ first play, produced by Kirk La Shelle.

A varied series of dramatic engagements covering several years followed before he did his first picture work in the feature entitled The Bridge. His work in The Warning, another feature film, is also still remembered by many, and then he was employed to create the role of Dr. Stephen Royce in Gloria’s Romance, appearing opposite Billie Burke in this important role.

—

“Must Have Better Stories”?

Then better prices must be paid for the time required to write them.

by Emmett Campbell Hall.

“Everything has improved — except the stories. We must have better stories!” So cries the producer, suddenly awake to the fact that the picture business is moving by hitherto acquired momentum only, and that it is the story that must supply further motive power. With his business on the verge of a very serious illness, he has correctly diagnosed the disease, but is doing absolutely nothing toward remedying the thing he deplores. What can he do? The first thing needful is to realize that —

There will never be any better stories!

The stories of 1916 are no better than the stories of 1716, or of A. D. 1, nor will those of 2016 be. A prize offer of a million dollars would not bring forth a story better than thousands for which the authors received a skimped handful of shillings or francs or dollars, or told for the mere love of telling a tale.

The trouble is not with the stories, but in the method of telling. Take the masterpieces of fiction and strip them to their skeletons — their plots. Rather trite and banal, are they not? It is the method of presentation that has made them things of beauty. What would an untrained or hurried hand have accomplished with the same materials?

Haste of composition, not poorness of theme, is the cause of the hackneyed and mediocre results we see upon the screen. It isn’t that the photo-playwrights can not do better, but that they cannot afford to. The world is frequently assured by producers that they would joyously pay fabulous sums if only the authors would write something worth paying for. The photoplay author must be pardoned a sceptical smile. Once or twice he has made a play a labor of love — has given it weeks or months of devoted labor, turning it out polished like a gem — and received for it the same “our regular rates” that he got for the crudity he hammered out in a couple of mornings.

The time it takes to write a good photoplay must be paid for, it good photoplays are to be written. Ten five-reel subjects a year should be a large output for a very industrious author — live, of his maximum quality would be nearer right. To make a decent income, how many must he turn out at the prices he can get? Few producers are paying or are willing to pay more per reel than the better producers paid four years ago — with many the rate is no better.

It is not merely the story that the producer must purchase — it is that story in its highest photoplay development — if he wants good stories as seen through the medium of the screen. And to bring a story to that development takes time, patience, labor plus natural ability, training and a discriminating knowledge of picture technique.

Of course the overhead must be kept down, but — a point strangely overlooked — it is in the manuscript, not in the purchase price of the manuscript, that economy should be found. There are few features appearing on the screen in which a really competent author could not have saved hundreds and even thousands of dollars without any sacrifice of screen effect, by a sometimes very slight rearrangement of the story. To get maximum screen value at minimum necessary production cost is an art that one might expect would be appreciated, but it does not appear to be. The man whose play — no better on the screen — costs five thousand dollars more to produce, through the fault of the author — will get just as much for his manuscript as the author whose ability saves that amount. There is no premium on taking pains.

Solution? Remedy? Realize the difference between mere story value and photoplay value, stop paying absurd prices for the former and use the money to pay decent prices for the latter. Encourage the people who would write real photoplays if they could afford to by making real effort worth the while. Guarantee a reasonable sum but pay on a royalty basis, the author’s percentage being on the net profits. This will bring about what is really wanted — better pictures — not the impossible “better stories” — at smaller cost for production.

—

“Civilization” at Buenos Ayres at Five Dollars a Seat.

The stockholders of the ten-million-dollar opera house in Buenos Ayres, Argentine Republic, have just cabled to Richard Pitrot, their New York representative, announcing the sailing from that city of Pablo Calazzi, for the purpose of consummating the final arrangements for the presentation of Thomas H. Ince’s Civilization in the opera house where the great Caruso sang recently and was paid $10,000 each night. The directors also stated that the scale of prices adopted for the engagement of the big Ince cinema spectacle in Buenos Ayres will be practically the same as when Caruso sings. The boxes vary from $25 to $100, each seating from four to six persons, while the orchestra or parterre which seats 850 persons is scheduled at $5 throughout. The upper gallery or sixth balcony provides the cheapest seats, in this part of the auditorium half selling at $2 and the other half at $1 a seat.

—

Marie Shotwell Joins Thanhouser.

Marie Shotwell, who recently completed a five-year contract under the management of Daniel Frohman, has gone into moving pictures. She has signed with the Thanhouser Company and is now at the New Rochelle studios working in an Italian story by Emmet Mix in which she will be starred. Miss Shotwell is perhaps best known for her characterization of Shirley in The Lion and the Mouse.

Collection: Moving Picture World, August 1916