I Lost My Girlish Laughter
Page 6
Prepare list available writers and directors for SB re Sinners.
Have Casting prepare list casting suggestions.
ON BROADWAY
by Walter Winchell
November 27
What w.k. smart producer is having a tough time with the Hays office because of the race angle in that play that cost him a quarter of a million dollars? And the rumor is that he’s burning because he didn’t take time out to read it first. Tee hee!
SUPER FILMS
INTER-OFFICE COMMUNICATION
To: Madge Lawrence Subject: La Tarn
From: James Palmer Date: November 27
Dear Maggie:
Am having terrible time with Sarya Tarn. Her English is not as good as it was in Palm Springs and besides Tarn not knowing who Stella Carsons was made a lifelong enemy by referring to her as “that fat peasant.” And besides all editors are fed up on foreign importations. I’m afraid S. B. will have to dig down and pay for space if he wants it. He’s digging for everything else. Why should Publicity be a step-child?
How about dinner tonight?
J.
SUPER FILMS
INTER-OFFICE COMMUNICATION
To: Jim Palmer Subject: Food
From: Madge Lawrence Date: November 27
What is dinner? I can faintly remember way back in the dim past of sitting down at a table at seven o’clock and having minions fly around trying to entice my appetite. But that’s all a lost dream. I now take a cheese on rye whenever and if ever I get it. Tonight, my friend, I am to take Miss Tarn’s pooch to the vet. She can’t trust it to a mere servant. So what does that make me?
Thanks anyway, but what has happened to all those artists’ models you used to feed?
ML
P.S. However, you may feed me on Thanksgiving.
SIDNEY BRAND DECEMBER 1
SUPER FILMS
HOLLYWOOD CALIFORNIA
WODEHOUSE ON VACATION IN ENGLAND STOP NEITHER TEARS NOR MONEY WILL ENTICE HIM STOP JOHN TUSSLER AUTHOR SINNERS VERY KEEN ON HOLLYWOOD STOP WILL COME FOR TWO THOUSAND A WEEK ON THREE MONTHS TERMER STOP SHALL I CLOSE DEAL STOP TUSSLER NOW RATED AMONG THREE GREAT LIVING AMERICAN PLAYWRIGHTS STOP METRO WOULD PAY HIM MORE BUT ANXIOUS WORK ON HIS OWN PLAY REGARDS
FRANCES SMITH
ON BROADWAY
by Walter Winchell
December 1
The Hays office and Super Films have finally come out of their huddle on Sinners in Asylum. The play, a Theatre Guild smash, was purchased by Super for a paltry quarter of a million. Dollars my dear public! It concerns the very sensational theme of a mulatto girl and a white man. But that’s all fixed now. They are making her Spanish!
SIDNEY BRAND DECEMBER 1
SUPER FILMS
HOLLYWOOD CALIFORNIA
WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE MAKING HER SPANISH STOP THE WHOLE POINT OF THE PLAY WILL BE LOST STOP I WILL NOT BE PARTY TO ANY SUCH COMMERCIALISM STOP MY PLAY GOES ON AS IS OR ELSE
JOHN TUSSLER
JOHN TUSSLER DECEMBER 1
THEATRE GUILD
NEW YORK CITY
IS IT MY FAULT IF HAYS OFFICE WON’T LET ME BE ARTISTIC STOP FOR TWO THOUSAND WEEKLY YOU SHOULD BE WILLING SERVE AS PALLBEARER AT YOUR OWN FUNERAL STOP EXPECT YOU SOON STOP BEST WISHES
SIDNEY BRAND
December 1
Dear Liz:
Your alarm unnecessary. No, the villain did not hurl me out into the cold snow because I didn’t let him have his way with me, but instead he has taken a permanent option on my every waking moment which in his language is twenty-four hours out of the day.
You see, darling, and doubtless you have seen by the daily papers, that we have a new foreign star and while you and the rest of the laity palpitate in expectation of the lady’s debut, I am busy working to make it a fact. Give me none of your hollow laughs. I am fully aware of the fact that I am just an office slavey but in my spare moments (and they are definitely spare), I dabble in such quaint pastimes as finding a house that will suit Miss Tarn, servants who can cook her pet Viennese dishes, a maid who can put her to bed, the right kind of vet for her dog, a hairdresser whose artistic aura is akin to her own, a couturier who will cover the fact that she is a trifle bow-legged and too short in the legs.
To add to all this, Mr. Brand has done me the honor of making me his personal valet. I mix his drinks, lay out his evening clothes, put studs in his shirts, but on the other eve I was properly floored when he asked me to fix his shaving lather while he talked to New York on long distance phone.
Picture me if you can in the black and white tile bathroom off his office dreamily stirring hot water into the shaving mug. Outside the stars are overhead, a dizzy moon hangs low, the scented air gently stirs the white frilled cellophane curtains and other girls are actually sitting out dances, carelessly sipping cocktails, unheeding of the workaday night while I am spending my romantic soul in raising a lather. Incidentally, considering it’s my initial effort, I do a very fine job.
My liege lord, after $60 worth of telling off a poor unsuspecting advertising man what He would have done if He had anything to do with These layouts, enters the bathroom. I hand him his lather and razor and start to leave as any nice girl would, but no, he hands me a script and waving me to sit on the bath stool, says, “Be a good girl, Madge, and read me this play while I shave. We’re having a story conference at my house at ten tomorrow morning and I won’t have a chance to read this tonight because I’ve got to go to an anniversary dinner for my mother-in-law.” And would you believe it, the script is Sinners in Asylum for which we have paid a quarter of a million dollars and Winchell was right.
Half an act later my boss says, “That’s swell, Madge, you’ve got a good reading voice. Now I’d better hurry. Call up my wife and tell her I’m on my way.”
I heave a heavy sigh of relief and Mr. Brand says suddenly, “What do you do with your private life?” I say to him, “Mr. Brand, you talk about it as though it was a pill that you took a half an hour after eating. I wish to God it was so, because can you tell me when I could have a private life?”
I think that will hold him. But he laughs a gay, mocking laugh and tosses off an unusually good epigram. “Still waters,” says he, “run deep.”
What do you think?
Love,
Maggie
5
I Become a Female Angle
Sunday, November 29
Dear Aunt Agnes:
It is very difficult to explain to you why I really haven’t time to write oftener. Even this tidbit comes your way only because Mr. Brand went back to sleep after breakfast.
You see, we were all due here at his house this morning at ten o’clock for a story conference. Yes, I know it’s Sunday but we are rushed for time for a story to launch that new foreign actress, Sarya Tarn, you have been reading about. I arrived here at ten sharp along with the director, Monk Faye; Mr. Brand’s assistant, Roy Tyson; the author of the play, John Tussler; and Philip Skinner, one of our best scenario writers.
I do wish you could see Mr. Brand’s house. It is a sprawling California hacienda filled with French Provincial furniture and a mob of elegant English servants careening around, to say nothing of tennis courts, swimming pool and a model farm. It’s all very feudal.
Well, as I say, we all arrived at ten and the butler told us Mr. Brand did get up and dress and eat his breakfast but then decided to go to sleep again. So, that gave me a chance to write you.
Mr. Faye is most annoyed and is saying some very cutting things about Mr. Brand; Mr. Tyson is playing solitaire; Mr. Tussler, who just arrived from New York this morning, stares at us as though we were inside cages; and Mr. Skinner, who has been in Hollywood a
long time, is taking time out for a quiet nap.
This is the first time I have been invited to attend a story conference and I am very excited about it. Mr. Brand told me that I am to take down in shorthand everything that is said in the conference so that nothing valuable will be lost.
Mr. Skinner just awakened out of his nap and is telling about a wonderful dream that he had. I can’t hear much of what he is saying but it must be most amusing, because even Mr. Tussler awakes out of his lethargy and says he can swap an even better one. And it is—for they all laugh very loudly.
Then a pretty little French maid on very high heels trips into the room and says, “Sh! Sh!” She then whispers to Mr. Faye and he nods. After she leaves, he tells us that we must be very quiet as Mrs. Brand is going to have a baby soon and is not feeling well.
Now it is one o’clock and we are all very hungry, and still no Mr. Brand. Mr. Faye summons the butler and asks him to find out when Mr. Brand will be with us. We fidget and fidget and then the butler returns and says that Mr. Brand will be right down.
Mr. Brand has just come in.
“It’s lunch time,” growls Mr. Faye.
“Oh, that’s all right,” says Mr. Brand. “I’ve had a tray in my room. Let’s get going.”
So now I will have to say good-bye and my love to you.
Madge
STENOGRAPHER’S NOTEBOOK
BRAND: Glad to see you here with us, Tussler. Did you have a nice trip out? Where are you staying?
TUSSLER: Yes. I’m…
BRAND: Say, Monk. How much did you drop at the Clover Club last night?
FAYE: I came out ahead. How about you?
BRAND: They took me for plenty. I can’t win. Tussler, we’re going to do big things with that play of yours. Super is selling the rest of its product on the strength of it. We’ve got to put it over. It’ll cost a million before we get on the set. You’re a highway robber, Tussler, but the joke’s on you. The Government will take most of it.
SKINNER: He won’t mind that. He’s a member of the Communist Party.
BRAND: A communist! Why didn’t somebody tell me? Don’t I have enough trouble?
TUSSLER: But, Mr. Brand. I’m not….
BRAND: All right…all right, Tussler. You’re safe enough with me. I’m no red-baiter. Just so long as you don’t start a revolution at Super!
TUSSLER: But, Mr. Brand, I’m not…
BRAND: Let’s get down to business or I’ll start a revolution. Madge, be sure and get every word we say! Now boys, the important thing is to stick as closely as possible to the original play. After all, there are a lot of people in New York who paid good money to see this play, so it must have something. But, of course, we have to remember the Hays office. I have been sweating for days, I give you my word, to put this thing over with them and it was only after I gave them my solemn word of honor that I would handle this with my usual good taste, finesse and delicacy that they said to me OK Brand, we trust you to do the right thing. Now boys, I can’t let them down and you can’t let me down!
TYSON: You know us, Chief. We’ve never let you down yet.
BRAND: Thanks, Roy. And another thing. I’ve promised the Hays office to change the title. You see Sinners in Asylum is connected in the public mind with a very unsavory theme. Sure, we’re changing the theme but that’s not enough. We have to wipe out in the public consciousness all connection with Sinners in Asylum.
TUSSLER: But why…
BRAND: Now, Monk. I’ve never told you yet how to shoot a picture. I’m paying you to do that but this time things are different. I want you to do the best you can for Sarya Tarn but don’t burn up the film by giving me fifty-seven takes of a scene. I don’t need fifty-seven takes to know what’s good. I’ve got an instinct for those things.
TYSON: You bet you have, Chief.
BRAND: Thanks, Roy. And also, Monk, see if you can’t forget that creepy tempo you gave me the last time. The hell with your artistic camera angles. We’ve got something to sell this time—Sarya Tarn!
TUSSLER: But, my pl——
FAYE: All right, Sidney. I’ll tell you what. You go out on the set and I’ll sit in your office and we’ll see what you can do with that dame. It would be a pleasure!
BRAND: What are you getting sore about? Now you, Skinner, we’re paying Tussler a fortune to write this adaptation. All right, so he’s one of the three greatest American playwrights. But has he ever written for the screen? What are his credits? None! But you—you know what it’s all about and I’m depending on you to see to it that we get the finest screenplay of the year. You never know, we might even get the Academy Award.
TYSON: You’re due for one, Chief. That was a lousy deal you got last year.
BRAND: You’re right. Thanks, Roy. Madge, you’re sure you’re getting everything?
ME: Yes, Mr. Brand.
SKINNER: Say, Chief. Who are you going to get to play opposite Tarn? It’s very important because until I know who the leading actors are I can’t get the right feel of the script.
TUSSLER: But—what’s the diff——
BRAND: Don’t worry. I’m negotiating right now for Gable!
TYSON: Gee, Chief, that’s perfect!
BRAND: Thanks, Roy. Now, Phil, this is a suggestion, but bear it in mind while you’re writing. It’s just what I’d like. Tarn’s got to be a sympathetic character. This is the first time she’s being presented to the American public. Now, the dame in the play is not sympathetic enough, so we’ve got to make Tarn more naïve. And it’s right that she should be naïve. Here is this girl who has lived all her life on an island off the African coast.
TUSSLER: But it isn’t in Afr——
BRAND: She has never known a mother’s love and her old man, this Swedish sea-captain, was killed with her mother when she was a baby. The only love she has known is from animals and the kindly natives of the village. So she is naïve—but on the inside there is a roaring volcano…her mother’s Spanish blood!
SKINNER: I get what you mean, Chief. I get it…
BRAND: Here in this primitive background, Monk, I’ll let you have your camera angles. I want production value here. Later on it’s another story.
TYSON: Say, Chief, maybe we can save some dough here by picking up stock film from Bring ’Em Back Alive.
BRAND: Thanks, Roy. Hey, wait a minute. What do you mean? Will you climb out of your quickie background! This is a major studio production. But on the other hand, it might not be a bad idea. See what you can pick up, Roy.
FAYE: Listen, Sidney. I hate to disagree with you because I know you’re all excited. But I don’t see where Tarn has the fire for this role.
BRAND: Never mind, Monk. You leave that to me. I’ll see to it that she gives you plenty of fire. Boy, I can just see her when all the Spanish in her breaks loose. She’s a hell cat! Like an animal she scratches back when she comes face to face with an artificial civilization. She’s got to be tamed! She’s a wild thing with bars around her. She’s caged! My God! What a title! Lady in a Cage!
TYSON: Gosh, what a title!
BRAND: Thanks, Roy. Can you see it on the twenty-four sheets…on the marquee…SUPER FILMS IS PROUD TO INTRODUCE SARYA TARN IN THE SEASON’S MOST ASTOUNDING DRAMA—Lady in a Cage.
FAYE: I don’t care what you call it. I just thought of an angle on the love interest that is terrific! Here you have a dame…living in an outpost of civilization…she’s beautiful…she’s luscious…she’s untouched! She’s everything to drive a man crazy. She’s grown up wild in the jungle. Now this is my idea. There’s a shipwreck and Gable is washed up on the shore. He wakes up to see this gorgeous creature looking down at him. There’s a passion flower in her hair. That’s symbolic. He stares at her…unbelieving….She runs away…frightened….
He follows…the animal in him aroused.
TUSSLER: But—!
BRAND: Wait a minute, Monk. She wouldn’t run away. She wouldn’t be afraid. Remember, she may be naïve, untouched, but inside of her is this flame…this Spanish blood….She would be too fascinated to run.
SKINNER: Listen. I know a thing or two about dames. I’ve had a thousand of ’em. This dame…
BRAND: Why should we argue about female psychology when there is a woman in the room. Monk, you ask Madge what she would do. Now Madge, listen carefully.
FAYE: We take the camera over to a close-up of Gable’s face. It is moonlight. We have a long shot of this jungle and the jungle moon hanging low. Into the camera comes Sarya Tarn, chanting a native love song. She is the spirit of the jungle night. The camera follows her as she dances into the waves—a wild thing! Suddenly she sees something…stops…the camera follows her and in a beautiful two-shot we see Sarya Tarn looking down at Gable’s face. He opens his eyes. He thinks he is in a dream. Blindly he puts up his hand to…touch…to feel…It’s flesh…warm, alive…He leaps to his feet…the camera moves back for a close two-shot of these two looking into each other’s eyes, discovering each other. Mind you, Gable is the first white man Tarn has ever seen! All the dormant woman in her comes to life…He makes a grab for her….She…Now, Miss Lawrence…if you were that girl…if you were there on that tropical beach with Gable, what would you do?
ME: I—
BRAND: Remember she’s Spanish!
ME: I—
SKINNER: Her first white man!
TYSON: Gable!
ME: Well, I—
FAYE: Go on! Go on!
ME: Well—I should give in!
BRAND: What did I tell you? That proves my point.