Richard Wallace — Who is Responsible? (1926) 🇺🇸

The second in a series of articles by men and women actively identified with motion pictures, on the subject of “Better Pictures.”
by Richard Wallace
Responsibility for better pictures is so utterly intangible that to point the finger to any one group or class is well nigh impossible. Responsibility must be divided to a certain extent for everybody who comes in contact with motion pictures shoulders a part of the responsibility. Therefore I believe that the answer to the question “Who is the responsible party?” is “Everybody.”
Of course, even in motion picturedom there are some folks, no doubt, who sigh for the “good old days,” but they are just as unthinking and uncritical as those who wail for the dear, dead past in anything else.
Not a year passes that does not see some marked stride taken in the development of film making, in the method of presenting a story, in treatment, in playing, in photography and all the other technical phases of production.
Comparisons of the pictures of the present with those of only a few years ago are so ludicrous as to be all but impossible. Changes may come gradually, almost unnoticed, but they do come constantly. Almost immediately they are accepted as customary and so readily adaptable is the human mind to the new order that the average being forgets that the existing condition was not always in force.
That is why the picturegoer recalls certain outstanding productions he has seen, possibly years ago, as landmarks — epics, and not infrequently he wishes he might see them again. It would be much better for his own convictions and fond memories if he didn’t. He forgets or doesn’t realize that what made the picture seem great was simply the fact that his capacity for entertainment on the screen was attuned only to the standard of that time and if the picture was better than the average of that day, it naturally stood out.
When the first racing automobiles attained the blinding speed of fifty miles an hour, they were the wonders of the motor world, yet today, the driver who cannot force his machine to average 125 miles per hour cannot even qualify for a contest. Standards are purely relative, governed entirely by contemporary conditions.
It was only a year or so ago that a distributor with an unusually clear realization of this fact unearthed a fifteen-year-old film which had been one of the moving and tense motion picture dramas of its day. After one glance at it in the projection room, he had all its old titles cut out and in their place had comedy titles inserted, with the result that the picture proved an uproarious farce when it was reissued.
It has only been a month since another of the old-time masterpieces was revived, one of the earliest of the two-reelers, a battle picture that was declared to be far ahead of its time when it was first released.
It was reissued in its original form. It didn’t require new comedy subtitles. The audiences howled hilariously at it. There would have been no more striking contrast with present day pictures.
The lighting was, of course, terrible. The sets, considered quite magnificent in their day, paled into insignificance when compared to those of the modern two-reel comedy that followed the ancient film. And the acting was unforgettable. Each of the leading players took his turn at emoting in the center of the stage, glaring directly into the camera.
The Birth of a Nation was and is one of the greatest pictures ever made, because it told a great story and told it well, yet, from a technical standpoint it pales beside the epics of the present day. When it was reissued a year or two ago, fans who remembered it in its glory and saw it again to convince themselves that the new pictures did not compare with the old, wondered what was wrong with it. There could have been no more convincing proof of the changed standards that had come into the screen world.
Ten or twelve years ago we had the first film version of “Monte Cristo,” a three-reeler that was looked upon as a masterpiece. But it seemed puny beside the Monte Cristo in which Jack Gilbert [John Gilbert] appeared five years ago. And that five-year old picture is far behind the pictures of today.
Make no mistake about it. Every film produced by the leading companies of today has points of distinct superiority over the best films of a few years ago.
Who deserves the credit for the improvement? Everybody. No single individual or group of individuals or succession of groups has brought about the result. Every picture fan, every exhibitor, producer, director, player, camera man, electrician and prop boy has played his part in bringing pictures up to their present standard.
Nothing is ever produced for which there is not a demand somewhere. It is a patent fact that tastes and standards and ambitions are never stationary. Fixed conditions become wearisome. Because nothing human is ever perfect, there is always someone to demand that improvements be made and always someone to meet the demand and create the improvement.
Every time the film makers have felt that they had practically reached the acme they have discovered that the picture going public becomes restive under monotony and waning box-office receipts compelled the production of better pictures.
After all, it resolves itself into the fact which is finally becoming realized that the interests of everyone concerned, producer, exhibitor and fan are practically Identical. That is why we have the rapidly developing movement to coordinate the sentiments of all three to work toward ever improved standards.
In the past, the ideas that have emanated from the three sources have usually reached the spot where they would do the most good by extremely circuitous routes.
It is easy to imagine that as far back as the earliest pictures, some interested picturegoer thought of something that he conceived as a possible improvement. He probably suggested it to some other fan, who in turn passed it on. At some time, that vagrant idea came to the attention of someone definitely in pictures and was seized upon, found to be worth while and incorporated into production.
Countless persons, perhaps, played a small part in bringing that single idea to the point of execution. The same is true of every new idea that means improvement. The producer sees one angle of possible betterment, the director another, the actor, the technical man, the exhibitor and last and most important of all, the fan who pays the bills still others. And if they are good, they all eventually find their way into the finished product on the screen.
Everybody contributes to the improvement, everybody is in part responsible for it. This is true in everything else in human life.
The automobile of today would be the same crude mechanism of twenty years ago, if there hadn’t been the demand for improvement, and the universal contribution of ideas from manufacturer, engineer, garage man and driver.
Radio came into being, not because Marconi had a brilliant idea, but because a definite need and demand fostered the idea. And broadcasting would still be accomplished by the buzzer code, if there hadn’t been a universal demand for the development of radio telephony.
So it is in motion pictures. The fan has the easiest time of it. So long as pictures entertain him, he looks at them. When they cease to entertain him, he simply forgets about the film theatre. Then the exhibitor comes into the equation. When attendance drops off, he begins to inquire as to why. And when one customary fan and another cites definite reasons, he has something to impart to the distributor and the distributor’s message reaches the producer and sincere efforts result which seek to overcome the indifference of the fan and win him back with new and better entertainment.
I know of an exhibitor who manages one of the most successful picture theaters in the country, who frequently lounges about like a mere hanger-on in the lobby of his theater or on the walk in front of it. He simply listens as the prospective ticket purchasers comment before entering, and he listens again when they come out of the theater, and he acts on what he hears. That is why he has one of the most successful theaters in the country. He is a direct contributor to picture improvement, and everyone whose comments he heard also played their part.
Within the industry itself there are several contributing features to improvement— competition, ambition, pride of effort. These affect every director, player, technician and everyone who has anything to do with the making of pictures. Each wants to better his work, for selfish reasons, probably, but the result is the same — improved films, which is the ultimate objective.
We are a long way from the ultimate in picture making as yet. Fact is, we never will reach it. Which is -extremely well, because there will always be room for improvement, always something better to look forward to.
Five years from now, the pictures of today will seem as primitive as the pictures of 1921 appear to us today.
—
In the July issue of The Motion Picture Director Edward Sedgwick fired the opening gun in a series of discussions on the part of directors, producers, exhibitors, writers and others connected with the making of pictures on the general subject of “Who is Responsible?”
Here are presented the views of Richard Wallace, who is now directing Corinne Griffith in her comedy-drama “Just Off Broadway” and has recently completed a series of comedies for Hal Roach including productions featuring Ethel Clayton, Theda Bara, Claude Gillingwater, and Mabel Normand in her return vehicle “Raggedy Ann.” According to Mr. Wallace “better pictures” are constantly in a process of evolution and that in their development everybody connected directly or indirectly with pictures is concerned.
—
Collection: Motion Picture Director, August 1926