How They Do It — Selecting the Plays (1925) 🇬🇧

This is the first of a series covering every phase of the movie industry, from the selection of the story to the final scrapping of the film.

by Charles Gartner

When the Great American Public submits a story to the scenario department of any of the bigger motion picture companies, the following is what generally happens:

The office-boy receives the MSS in the mail. He carefully clips the enclosed stamped envelope to the story and hands the whole thing to the first reader. The first reader goes through the story and then passes it on to a young lady who enters the title of the story, together with the submittor’s name and address, on a card which is filed away. The opus is then given back to the office-boy with a nicely worded rejection slip to mail out again.

The monotony of this routine is broken just once in every nine hundred thousand instances. (Yes, that’s right! Once in every 900,000 instances!) Old-timers at the Scenario Department of the Famous Players-Lasky Corporation, from which most of the data for this article was obtained, say that they cannot remember when the last amateur’s effort was accepted and paid for.

Why do these conditions exist? Considering the hundreds of lawyers, doctors, housewives and street-car conductors who “write for the movies,” isn’t there a chance of at least one of them “landing” occasionally? Broadly speaking — no! And principally because the policy of the scenario departments, not only at Famous Players, but everywhere, is that if there are two stories of equal merit submitted, the one by the better-known author will be accepted. Figure the chances of “getting in” against competition of this kind.

To the anxious outsider these tactics undoubtedly seem unfair, but when it is considered that if an exhibitor can advertise the name of a prominent writer as the author of the picture he is showing it will mean just so much more money at his box-office, the policy of the producers in this respect is more readily understood.

The question then arises naturally: What can or should be done by the serious-minded amateur in order to get his story beyond the sacred portals of Jesse L. Lasky’s office with the notation, “Recommended for acceptance.” It is here that the advice to aspiring writers that a famous novelist once is especially applicable: “The only way to learn how to write is to write!” The scenario department at Famous Players-Lasky Corporation backs up the noted author on this statement, but adds emphatically that before trying any brain-children on the scenario department to first tackle the fiction magazine market

Strange as it may seem, a story, if first printed in a magazine, will come to the attention of the powers that be much quicker than if mailed directly to them. This is because the various readers in the scenario department go through every fiction magazine published, synopsising and sending the most likely-looking stories into “headquarters” for special attention.

The stories not suited for immediate use are filed and preserved for future reference. As many of these stories are purchased five or six years after publication they are not, by any means, considered as” being sent to the “morgue” when they are synopsised and filed in this fashion.

To further heighten the sorrows, and to completely drown all hopes of the amateur, announcement is also made that every book published, and every play produced, is also recorded as possible photoplay material. This fully explains the one in nine hundred thousand chances the outsider has of having his story bought.

On the other hand, Cecil B. De Mille [Cecil B. DeMille] recently stepped forward with the encouraging information that the idea for his greatest production to date, The Ten Commandments was obtained as a result of a contest open to everyone. There were some thirty thousand suggestions sent in. And among these suggestions were those of many prominent writers.

Five people each received the full first award for the best idea, that of filming The Ten Commandments. One of the winners was a retired contractor, three others were housewives while the fifth was a man who, also, had never before written anything with the idea of selling it.

One of the many reasons why the amateur will always have trouble in getting his story across is his ignorance of the boundaries to which the average motion picture must be restricted. One of these limitations is dialogue. A motion picture composed mostly of sub-titles will never “take.” The background necessary to the filming of other stories is another restriction. Still another is censorship.

The amateur may bring himself several steps nearer the goal if he will but study as many pictures as possible, making notes on the most successful ones, and the reasons why they are successful. Then by following similar lines, he may be able to interest a producer in one of his stories.

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Left: Elinor Glyn and Conrad Nagel discuss The Only Thing.

Right: Gardiner Sullivan [C. Gardner Sullivan] and his dog.

Above: An interesting quartette — Jesse Lasky, Avery Hopwood, Edward Knoblock, and Robert Loraine.

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Right: Carey Wilson, an accomplished scenario writer.

Below: Sabatini [Rafael Sabatini] with a model of the galleon used in The Sea Hawk.

Cecil B. de Mille separates the wheat from the chaff.

Next month: The Scenario Writer.

Collection: Picturegoer Magazine, November 1925