WRITING FOR THE FILMS?

Press, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22424, 10 June 1938, Page 5

WRITING FOR THE FILMS?

■ No • amateur, however interested in teedicine and engineering, would ever dream of attempting to cut out an appendix or build a bridge, states a [Writer in the “Film Weekly.” Bqt practically anyone reputed of a “acile pen” seems to think that it is merely lack of time (or laziness) -that separates him or her from the fortunes supposed to J be within every writer’s graSp;

They may not quite aspire to the laurels and bank balances of Maugham and Coward, but when it comes to film writing (from £BOO a week upwards. isn’t it, and something like £20,000 for the rights to a story?) ■why, anyone could do that, if one just puf one’s mind to it!

This sweet fallacy is responsible for the fact that every film studio- in the wond is being swamped with unsolicited story material;' in any major studio literally millions of words descend on unfortunate readers each month. Rather a pathetic waste of time, paper and postage; for to put the average uselessness of outside material at S9J per cent, would be a kindly rather than a conservative estimate;, it’s probably in the neighbourhood of 99.8 per cent. One in Two Hundred Walter Mycroft, production chief of Associated British, told me that in the 202 productions he has so far been associated with, one solitary story came from an outsider. And that was not an unwieldy "script” but merely a short synopsis with a few sensible ideas which could be built up into a Proper film story. When, in the course of our conversation, the futility of people sending m 50,000 words of non-story material Was contrasted with the sense of a *jan , (also an outsider) who wrote to George Arliss’s producers merely .the seven words: “Why don’t you let Arliss Play Rothschild?” and got a £IOOO cheque for his pains. Walter Mycroft Wisely remarked that, however well deserved that cheque was. it might set HP a dangerous precedent, w Actually, when it comes to suggess Kona of famous stories or characters

The Chances of the Outsider

for individual stars, there are very few possibilities that haven’t, time after time, been considered, discarded, and reconsidered by the star’s producer and his advisers.

Some years ago the employers of Conrad Veidt solicited, ideas from the public and got some 800 suggestions Of “Cagliostro” and a few dozens of “Franz Liszt.”

As a matter of fact, both these ideas have for many years been, toyed with by practically every one of Conrad’s producers: they never yet happened to materialise, but they might one day—and then it would be just too bad if every one who ever suggested it were to come up and demand £IOOO for his admittedly bright idea. Some people even insist on cash in advance ’ before parting with one of their brilliant suggestions. But what about the vast majority of enthusiasts not content to suggest historical subjects and characters or other people’s stories, but who insist on sending in their own—huge typescripts (or worse, manuscripts!) of them. What about them? They should either stay out or learn the job of writing. That doesn’t mean that in Elstree they do not encourage talent when they come across it. They do. One night, straying into the Arts Theatre Club. Mycroft saw promise in the play and sent for its entirely unknown author. He turned out to be a man in his thirties, Cecil Tailby by name, and a butcher by profession. But. in whatever spare time he had from his veal cutlets and pork chops, Mr Tailby had written six plays. Mycroft looked at them all and saw that here was a man who could write dialogue and knew how to knit a story. So Mr Tailby will stop butchering and; start scenario-writing. Or take the case of a certain girl of 22 who had been in domestic, service and now holds a job as shop-assistant. She is determined to make herself a film writer. She has worked and slaved at it and has ultimately succeeded in turning out a story which is being considered at Elstree.