Evening star., 1932-01-17

4 CCORD1NG to Dan 10th
y eroh, playwright, screen
Il writer and many other
kinds of writer, Hollywood
is a mean place for the profess
Sional pen-and-pencil plugger
(Mr. Totheroh's play, Distant
Drums" was recently exhibited at
the Shubert-BelaSco.) Westward
of the cactus country, in the
depths of the studio acres, a man
who wields typewriter as liv-
ing is considered miserable and
a negligible quantity. The word
writer" spells frowns and verbal
mutteringS, and the fact that a
company takes you under its wing
is matter of such little import
that it is better not to mention it
at all.
The littlest man of Hollywood!
Such is he who fits letters to-
gether to spell words and words
to spell thoughts and thoughts to
spell bread and butter. Even If
you have been Splashed with a
Pulitzer prize, or wandered over
European shores dripping with
Nobel medals, when you get into
a studio and take off your coat
you are just a scenarist-and a
scenariSt is a humble being who
is considerably less than the
proverbial mole hill.
Mr.. Totheroh, who helped in
the verbal sequences of such pic
lures as 'The Dawn Patrol and
others of equal import, bases his
statement on personal expert
ences. While he admits having
enjoyed much studio work, he
also admits the above and the
truth that the player is the thing
and not the playwright. Mourn
fully he eXclaimS on the infinite
waste of material and time on
these shores, and the long, drear
hours when the "moguls" are
making up their minds what they
want-and then don't want it.
The glamour of publishers pink
tea parties-famous in Manhat-
tan-iS so far removed from
Hollywood that the author in
comparison becomes a shabby
and a scrubby thing. No idolatry
surrounds him no lady tea
hound pats him soothingly with
praise-no work that he has pro-
duced raises more than a care
fully stenciled eyebrow. His
pedestal at once becomes kind
of mourner's bench, from which
he is summoned from time to
time to add a dot or a dash to
some ethereal studio idea-and
his authors crown, which has
helped him so advantageously
through Eastern subWays and hot
house eulogies, has tumbled for
ward onto his nose and is taken
off in haste lest it be recognized
at all.
"a writer is the lowest form of
man in a studio" says Mr.. 10th
eroh-and this probably because
you don't see him or hear him,
and don't expect to plug" him
before the public. For months
he may lie idle around the lot
and then suddenly-and this very
likely after complete stagnation
for several months-they will find
out what you can do, and you
do it," In other words, when you
are signed you are signed for be-
ing writer-presumably a good
one. After that if they can use
you its fine-and if they can't
we'll that's fine, too. At least
they have Author x under their
wing and if suddenly he can pro-
duce a "Skippy" or a gangster
story, then hurrah-if not hurrah,
too-but it's hard on the writer
Remember Mr.. Wodehouse'S sad
lamentS?
u X X u
NEVERTHELESS, n the studios
must have their spoken and
word, and as the new
year launches into its full stride
they must have their stories. The
word has gone around, too, that
picture magnates (this from the
Motion Picture HERALD are in
search of original material, since
the prices of best sellers" and pop
llar plays have scared up way be- |