Page:Screenland October 1923.djvu/83

SCREENLAND

of his character. One can see it in his hands, in his every move.

my brain for the opening question. This is all-important, for by it, the interview may freeze his victim into ice on the instant.

They had planned that I talk with him at lunch, but at noon, when they approached him on the subject, I could see him shaking his leonine head vigorously, something like terror in those sea-blue eyes. I thought, with an irreverant inward giggle, of the terror of an elephant for a mouse.

At last they persuaded him to remain cornered for a very few minutes.

Now for my carefully-couched question!

"Would you mind telling me, Mr. Seastrom, a little of how they make pictures in Sweden? Is the industry on as large a scale as it is here?"

"Well—", and this strong man actually faltered, chosing his words oh, so carefully."It is quite large."

Not so good on that one, but an opening at least.

"Is there as much money invested there as there is here?"

"Ye-es there is a good deal of money in pictures there."

Not so good.

"Are pictures in Sweden backed by independent capital? Is the industry, made up of independent producers?"

exactly. Tt is_ more like a trust."

Ah ha—an admission! Poor man—he had fallen into the trap!

"But aren't there anti-trust laws there, as there are here?"

"Oh, yes,—but there are always ways, you know," smiling apologetically.

So much for that; Well—

"Are the studios as large as they are here?"

"Yes, they are quite large. Maybe not so large, though." (Yes, we have no bananas, I thought.) "Maybe not so large as Stage Six." You have all heard of Goldwyn's Stage Six, the largest in the world. "Maybe as large as this," he waved his hand inclusively at the courtroom, which is not large as sets go.

Evidently, "stage" as picture fans understand the word, means "studio" in Sweden.

"How about working facilities?"

not so many as here,", he said more positively. "One has no assistants there. One does all oneself."

"How about, lights—how is location work managed?"

"We have fine lights, too. You see we work only in summer because the theatres close and the actors come direct from, them to the studios. There are no actors who give their talents solely to the screen."

"Is the stellar system practiced in Sweden."

"No—oh, no, indeed," further warmth and interest. "We do not believe in that. The same actors appear in all the pictures made by the producer. Yes—a stock company. It is like one big family." Again the smile. "One is very happy to work with them."

But in spite of the smile, I could see him becoming more and more restive. I could not find it in my heart to torture him longer. He was so obviously unhappy. I intimated that he was released.

"Oh,—thank you!" and before I could turn to him from a glance about in search of my guides, he had vanished. Whether he had flown through the ceiling or had disappeared into thin air, I know not.

think I am poking fun at Victor Seastrom. Far from it. My life as an interviewer has been made up of such a large number of things, that I have honest liking and gratitude for this particular variety of victim. When one realizes the past achievements of the man—realizes the nice application of his vast knowledge of life and acting to the work at hand, it is astounding to find such reticence.

Poor, unhappy man! He is doomed to many an uncomfortable hour, for the world within the next year will send many and many an interviewer to talk with, him—not about ships and sealing wax—but about Victor Seastrom, his one poor subject of conversation.

So, if we are to learn his views on American photoplays and photoplay-making, we must reconstruct them from the few remarks recorded on these pages.

Therefore, at the risk of incurring his righteous wrath, I shall make so bold as to give you his views as I conceive them:

He—quite naturally—likes to make pictures' better in Sweden than he does here. You can't blame him. There he is among his people, speaking his tongue, basically thinking his thoughts. His mind is Swedish and his pictures appeal first and foremost to Swedish minds.

America gives him greater technical opportunities for the making of pictures—providing the American public will accept them. That is the chance he is running now. In all probability, the thought which is uppermost in his mind during. these days of filming The Master of Man is:

"Am I making a picture which the American mind will embrace? Will each and every scene in this picture be clear to the American public?"

I sensed that he regretted having said that Swedish motion pictures were controlled by a trust. The remark oozed out, as it were, and was quickly repressed. But here, perhaps, is another reason why Seastrom is making pictures in this country. It is possible that he was restricted too much by this combine, and feels that America is the promised land, in that respect at least.

, too, the time alloted to Swedish picture making is short. A few brief months in the summer and—pouf! it is over.

We are all awaiting eagerly the release of both Mortal Clay and The Master of Man. These pictures, made under varying circumstances, in two different countries, will offer food for comparison. By them we can learn the relative merits and demerits of the native and the foreign branches of the industry. In other words, we will see what America has done for or done to Victor Seastrom.

I prophesy that the world will soon recognize him as the greatest director in motion pictures.