John Emerson in Pictures (1916) 🇺🇸
The much-abused phrase, “Motion pictures are still in their infancy,” would apply well to the subject we are about to discuss. It seems that each day marks something new in film circles and it appears as though it were only yesterday, when people laughed at the idea of motion pictures. Evidently, they were wrong, for the film business today, as we all know, ranks among the highest profit-paying industries.
by Bennie Zeidman [B. F. Zeidman]
A recent announcement of note was the acquisition of prominent speaking stage stars to almost every film producing company to star in featured photodramas. Among the selected legitimate stage stars, of the prominent ones, judging from results accomplished, is our subject for this interview.
John Emerson, of the Fine Arts Films studio, by means of telephone, invited the writer (after his identity had been revealed) to come to his hotel and have a “little chat,” as he termed it.
That night at seven found said writer in a choice Los Angeles hotel lobby. As John Emerson descended the hotel marble staircase, I presented myself and profusive greetings followed.
My first impression of John Emerson, who, at the age of thirty-three, was general stage director for the large Charles Frohman theatrical forces, was thus — a wiry, keen-eyed, smooth shaven, slim-built young man of darkish complexion, with the spring of health in his strides.
We soon drifted to the subject of playwriting, the writer having in mind Emerson’s recent dramatic success, The Conspiracy, of which he was co-author, producer and featured player.
“Of course, it goes without saying,” spoke John Emerson, “one must have a concrete idea in order to assume the work of a playwright There are a number of people who endeavor to write plays, who are absolutely ignorant, as to the technique of the drama. A playwright must be somewhat of a carpenter. He must construct portion by portion, until he has complete adequate parts to comprise a perfect house. In my own particular case, if I have an idea for a play, I work it out little by little. Sometimes for hours, again only for brief periods; it is as the mood has me. You cannot sit down and force yourself to write a play. Inspiration, after you have mastered the technique of the drama, plays an important part in successful play construction. I have known times while I was working on The Conspiracy when I would awaken in the middle of the night. My mind was on the play — the proper thought had come to me, and I would write into the wee hours of the morning. Fortunately for my play, The Conspiracy, when I read it to Mr. Frohman, he at once accepted it for production. Usually an ambitious author is compelled to wait sometimes for years to have his play even given serious consideration.”
“What of your entrance into the motion picture field? And why did a person of your success on the legitimate stage forsake same for the silent drama?” I questioned. “It so happens that your same inquiry has been addressed to me by many of my speaking stage friends. I will answer you as I did them. The possibilities of the screen and the wider scope for one’s talents.
“Yes, it is quite true, the stage affords you much opportunity, but there is something magnetic in the word ‘pictures’ — that is, it appeals so to me.
“The future of pictures, their rapid progress — and comparing them to the present slow moving speaking stage, it seems that film work is the best bet,” he concluded.
The ensuing few minutes we chatted about the weather, our views of the extreme East and West, and soon I succeeded in having John Emerson talk about himself.
“I am a native of Ohio, and when a lad my only ambition was to enter the Episcopalian ministry, but during my college course I gradually came to the conclusion that I had mistaken my vocation. During my time in college I worked hard after school hours to secure funds to pay for my tuition fees. Believe me, I was not born with the proverbial gold spoon.
“After leaving college, I still continued with my studies, but the attractions of the stage were too much for me. I secured a position in a School of Acting, where I taught to the pupils literature and other branches of the acting course. In spare hours, I was conducting a church choir and was also taking lessons in a music school.
“After a year of this, my ambition was realized. I had been cast with Tim Murphy in a very small speaking part, and at the end of the third performance I was discharged for incompetency. That was my theatrical debut,” he laughingly remarked.
“I then decided that I didn’t know enough to be an actor,” with a reminiscent smile, “so I came to New York and studied for three years more. For financial aid, I taught, staged amateur plays, and went on as ‘super’ and ‘extra man’ in various New York productions. By this time I was fully determined that I was going to be an actor. One day, later, an opportunity for my initial New York engagement presented itself. I was engaged to play small parts and act in the capacity of stage manager for Bessie Tyree and Leo Dietrichstein, and for two seasons I held that position down.
“After I had closed with Bessie Tyree and Leo Dietrichstein, I was with Mrs. Fiske for two seasons as stage manager and understudy for the part of the mendacious old father, and later in the season I played the part during the New York run and elsewhere.
“Later, I was engaged as stage manager for Mme. Nazimova [Alla Nazimova], and in a short time I was playing such parts as Ricardi in Comtesse Coquette, Krogstadt in A Doll’s House, and the doting husband in Hedda Gabler. I received a personal letter from Mme. Nazimova in which she said, ‘You are the best Tesman I have ever bad.’ This letter, of course, I had framed in gold and hung it upon the wall, with a large wreath of laurel above it.
“The following season I assisted in staging The Blue Mouse, and when Mr. Clyde Fitch died I was chosen by the Shubert management as the man most familiar with the author’s methods, to put on The City. I was later made general stage director for the Shuberts, and during that time I appeared in the support of Marietta Olly, a German actress, whose American career was rather brief; I also produced and played the leading male role in The Watcher, and in other plays.
“I joined the Frohman management, where I staged The Runaway, with Miss Billie Burke as the star; The Attack for John Mason, Bella Donna for Mme. Nazimova and various other plays. While with Mr. Frohman I managed to find time to collaborate with Hillard Booth and Cora Maynard on The Bargain and with Robert Baker on The Conspiracy, in which I also played the featured part.”
Those who have seen John Emerson in The Conspiracy, as the eccentric newspaper writer, were very loud in their praise. Emerson is an artist, his work is finished. At the age of thirty-three he was at the head of the Frohman forces, which speaks for itself, as to his business ability. Perhaps this is one reason why Emerson is where he is today.
John Emerson displayed signs of growing tired and the writer suggested a bit of liquid refreshments. We marched into the hotel grill. Once on the inside, with one foot propped up on the polished bar railing, Emerson looked somewhat rested.
“What of your present motion picture engagement?” I ejaculated.
“I am appearing in an original feature photodrama at the Fine Arts Films studio. By the way, it was at this very studio that D. W. Griffith staged that sensational masterpiece, The Birth of a Nation. The picture I am appearing in will be known as ‘The Scarlet Band,’ and it deals with scientific war matters.
“Yes, I can justly say I enjoy my work, or you could term it ‘film acting.’ It is my intention to remain at the Fine Arts Films studio, and perhaps at a later date will take to staging motion picture plays. However, before attempting this branch of the profession, I want to be fully posted as to camera limitations, etc., which, of course, are new to me.”
By this time we drained our cocktail glasses, and started away from the bar. Through swinging doors we emerged and Emerson hailed his waiting chauffeur.
“I have a studio appointment,” said Mr. Emerson, “and therefore must leave you.” The starting of a motor, an odor of burning gasoline and the writer was alone.
To the writer John Emerson is a wonderful character. He speaks in moderate tones, brings a pleasing smile to surface ever so often, and somehow or other you feel at home in his presence.
After learning that men of John Emerson’s type are enlisting in the motion picture profession, it does kind of make you think that motion pictures are still in their infancy. For it is only natural that bigger things in the line of scenarios will have to be originated, to secure themes adequate in strength and construction for the Emerson type of artist.
—
Happy Days
by Will H. Greenfield
Ah, here are the scenes of my childhood.
These picturesque valleys and glades;
The mountains, the rivers, the forests.
It’s a land of bright sunshine and shades!
“Twas here ‘mid the forest s cool shadows
With comrades as young and as strong
I followed the trail with the vigor
Which only to youth can belong.
And here on the banks of these rivers —
That flow in their beauty so free —
That still in their grandeur are flowing
Toward the great deep — the blue sea —
I roamed when the twilight s last gleaming
Had faded and died in the west;
When stars in the heavens were beaming
And nature had sunk into rest.
Here, too, in these smooth, glassy waters.
With boughs o’er our heads hanging low.
We bathed with the freedom of nature
Or paddled our light birch canoe.
These scenes all recall the sweet pleasures.
The bright, happy days I here passed
With friends who have since crossed Life’s river.
Safe now from the storm’s bitter blast.
The grand march of time with its changes
Has wrought out for me a new scene;
But I’m dreaming again of those old times
Presented to view by the screen.
Here, now, in seat at the movies
I’m recalling the sad, glad events
Of a past that is mine without travel,
Joy untold for the sum of five cents!
—
Collection: Photoplay Magazine, May 1916
(The Photo-Play Journal for May, 1916)