Evening star., 1940-04-02

we did not say so, for who would
jeopardize an opportunity to be an
assistant film editor? More than
that, really, for the job involved
also being a kind of technical ad-
wiser, the specialist who works on
every kind of film to see that no
error creeps into it which might
make an audience contemptuous of
the culture of the movies.
The scene of any ones debut as
a film editor-technical adviser
necessarily is screening room,
miniature reproduction of such a
cinema cathedral as the Earle or
the Palace. Washington, of course,
has its screening rooms but they
are nothing like those around a
Hollywood studio. The difference is
largely a matter of seats. Those
IN a screening room out here are
the seats Of the mighty and are
designed accordingly. Upholstered
in leather, they are large enough to
accommodate the most corpulent
producer, which makes them a fine
size for critic of modest dimen-
slons to curl up in. That would be
just the thing for a number of pic
lures, but never Fitzpatrick
travelogue and certainly not for
one which offered the chance for
editing and technical advice.
First step in editing is to sprawl
on one Of these capacious, luxurious
thrones. Mr. Fitzpatrick sprawls
IN another. The lights 60 out. Just
as they are gone, door at the back
opens and through the small slit Of.
light behind glides a ghostly figure
named Eddie. Its name had to be
Eddie because Fitzpatrick says,
Eddie, you know Jay?" The answer
to that question always is yes"
right or wrong. usually the latter.
Eddie says Hello, JAY" and we saw
Hello. Eddie" neither being able
to see the other. Then, quick as
a flash, we are of on the Job of
film editing.
1t is really a pretty simple thing.
The film, still without a sound
track, which gives it an eerie, old
fashioned quality, starts to run.
The editor just sits there and looks
at it.
That's the Department of Com
merce, isn't it?" asks Fitzpatrick,
who knows all the time it is the
of Commerce.
Yes" says the assistant editor
technical expert. 1t gives one the
feeling of being a yes-man, but the
of Commerce Building
is so infexibly the Department of
Commerce, there is nothing else to
say.
Comes then a few minutes of
silence while the camera is work.
ing its way out to Massachusetts,
avenue, covering a lot of nostalgi-
cally familiar ground en- route.
There is no work to do in this area
OF the film until it comes to the
British Embassy.
That's the British Embassy, isn't
it? asks Fitzpatrick.
The yes-man flush of self-con-
tempt covers one in the darkness,
but as much as one would like to
say the building is the French En-
bassy. home for retired movie
columnists, or the place where
George Allen keeps his horse, one
is in for another affirmative. A
mo" wouldn't fool Fitzpatrick.
The situation of yes-yes-yes re-
mains unchanged through the cherry
blossoms, the Pan-American Build
ing, Ford Theater, Smithsonian, the
Red Cross Building, etc. 1t begins
to look as if the assistant editor
and technical genius might never
have an opportunity to leave his
mark upon the film, that he might
always remain a hollow man who
completely his first chance
in Hollywood.
But Fitzpatrick is too courteous
and discerning man for that.
He demonstrates it when the film.
lovely with technicolor, gets around
to variety of impressive angle
shots of the Lincoln Memorial.
watch these" he says, land tell
me which of them you like"
That's the point at which one
really can use a vocabulary larger
than Eyes"
THE second" one says, quickly.
THE second" afflrms Fitzpatrick,