Moving Picture Exhibitors' Association.

Photoplay (Volume 36 – 37 (Jul. - Dec. 1929)) online

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"Vulgar," she said. "Not the type of thing
you could be proud of. Cheap comedy. Just
more detestable mo\ie drivel."

When he did not answer, she flipped out of
the room.



He glanced at the first page of Agnes
Callahan's telephone conversation. One para-
graph caught his eye.

"He's a good guy. Jack," he read. "Came
from Kansas City, where I used to live. I've
known about him for years. He's new in the
game. Take this story. Jack, and behave
yourself."

Mr. Nottingham read no more.

He had blundered and he had been saved —
by a girl in whose ability he had placed no
confidence!

And why had she done this for him? Just
because she thought he was a "good guy."
He was humiliated, and for a moment humble.
He tore up the sheets and threw them into
the waste basket. He felt ashamed, as if he
had opened a friend's desk and pried into
personal correspondence. And M. L. had
acted as a spy! That sort of thing was dirty



"DACK in New York, two weeks later, lie
■•-'received guiltily the congratulations of the
sales department for his shrewd purchase of
"Blue Eyes."

"It was Miss Callahan's suggestion," he
admitted.

"That's true. She certainly picks them.
But you were the one that said O.K. You
backed her up." Ned Smith, sales manager,
was dishing out a little applesauce. "With
Jack Hitchcock directing. Blue Eyes' will
make us a million."

Mr. Nottingham decided that he would not
discharge .\gnes Callahan just yet. Perhaps
she could be guided along the right channels.

He began to realize, however, that she was
dictating the production policy of Marvel
Pictures Corporation and, as M. L. reminded
him, nothing was being done about pictures
for the better classes.

The fault was his. He was not pursuing
his policy. But he could not seem to get
going. Business was business, but there was
something about this movie thing that baffled
him.

Finally he got an idea, and M. L. said it
was marvelous.

He called Miss Callahan and Ned Smith,
the .sales manager, into his office.

"I have decided to produce 'The Valkyrie,'"
he announced.

"The what?" asked Ned Smith.

"It's an opera," Miss Callahan said.

"Lousy title, " said the sales manager.

"Don't tell nie," Mr. Nottingham was
appalled, "that you never have seen 'The
Valk>Tie.' "

"Nope," Ned Smith said.

Neither had Miss Callahan.

"People pay twenty-five dollars to hear it,"
Mr. Nottingham explained. "We will give
it at popular prices."

"T TH HUH, " said Ned Smith without enthu-
'-^iasm, wondering how much he could get
for an opera from the Novisky circuit with
fifty-six theaters in the Pennsylvania coal
towns.

"My success in other businesses," Mr.
Nottingham declared, "can be laid at the feet
of my determination to produce only the best.
The trouble with motion pictures is that they
are tawdry, cheap, vulgar. This picture will
bring into motion picture theaters millions
of persons who now never go to the movies."

Miss Callahan nodded sadly. She had heard
that speech before.

"What's the story like?" Ned Smith asked.

"A young man steals another man's wife
and the husband goes after him to kill him.
The young man and the husband fight.
There's a chance for a remarkable scene when
the Valkyries race to the battle — they're
women in armor, you know, riding wild
horses."

Miss Callahan sat up, interested. "Sounds
good," she admitted.

"Wotan comes to the scene," Mr. Notting-
ham continued, "and shatters the hero's snord



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so the husband can kill the hero.
Wotan kills the husband."

"Good twist," said Miss Callahan.

".■Vnd Wotan beats it with the girl?" the
sales manager asked.

"No. In the end, I think she dies."

"Not so good. Change it and let him get
the girl."

" T II.W'E employed Gregory Temple to direct
■'■ it," Mr. Nottingham announced.

"What's he ever directed?" asked Ned
Smith.

"He is a fine stage director — A^as -with the
Metropolitan for years. He will put this on
right. What do you think?"

He beamed, anticipating high praise. Under
the same circumstances in the cement mixer
business his subordinates would have hailed
him as a genius.

"Sounds sour to me," Ned Smith admitted.

"Is it too late to stop it?" l\Iiss Callahan
inquired.

Mr. Nottingham was irritated. He did not
like opposition from his employees.

"We shall make the picture," he said firmly.
"That is settled."

* * *

GREGORY TEMPLE went to Ilolly^xood
equipped with full authority to cast and
produce "The Valkyrie" in sound. When his
script came back, !NIiss Callahan read it and
went into. Smith's office, raving.

"It's terrible," she said.

Ned Smith looked it over.

"I thought it was a horse picture," he said.
"Instead, it's a fairy story."

".\nd only nine horses," Miss Callahan
pointed out. "Even the cheapest Westerns
give 'em fifty."

"Can't we get him to put in more horses?
Let's talk to the boss."

"He won't help us," said Miss Callahan.
"I'll see if I can get away with it."

That night Gregory Temple received a tele-
gram from Agnes Callahan, scenario editor in
New York City, that read:



Photoplay Magazine for December, 1929
Then



133



JUST SAW SCRIPT VALKYRIE
AND NOTE YOU HAVE ONLY
NINE GIRLS ON HORSES
WHICH WILL LOOK TERRIBLE
STOP PLEASE USE AT LEAST
ONE HUNDRED STOP REGARDS

To which the intellectual Mr. Ten^plc
replied :

IF YOU WILL READ YOUR
MYTHOLOGY YOU WILL FIND
THERE WERE ONLY NINE VAL-
KYRIES STOP THEY WERE
DAUGHTERS OF WOTAN STOP
HE DID NOT HAVE ANY MORE
DAUGHTERS STOP REGARDS

Agnes Callahan quickly dictated a straight
telegram :

HAVE SOME NEIGHBOR GIRLS
GO ALONG FOR THE RIDE OR
CHANGE WOTAN TO SOLOMON
STOP GET MORE DAUGHTERS
AT ANY COST OR PICTURE
WILL FLOP STOP REGARDS

Mr. Temple had the last word:

MY DEAR LADY MY CONTRACT
SAYS I SHALL DECIDE WHAT
IS TO BE IN THIS PICTURE
STOP NO OPPORTUNITY NOW
TO GET ANY MORE DAUGHTERS
FOR WOTAN STOP HE IS DEAD
AND SO IS MRS. WOTAN STOP
VERY VERY KINDEST REGARDS
STOP STOP STOP

Smith grinned when Miss Callahan showed
him the message.

"I am afraid he's kidding us," he said.
"Well, we'll just have to wait and see."



THE 'VALKYRIE" opened on Broadway
with a terrific ballyhoo.
The next morning M. L. clipped the
criticisms and laid them on Mr. Nottingham's
desk.



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"I told you it would be a triumph, " she
said.

"I read some of them on the \vay down.
Axe they all good?"

"Every one. Vou have proved your point."

Ned Smith and Agnes Callahan were forced
to admit that the criticisms seemed fa\-orable.

"It's not my kind of a picture," said the
sales manager.

"Bored me stiff," said Jliss Callahan.

"But look at what the newspapers say,"
exulted !Mr. Nottingham. " 'It is a new era
in motion pictures!' "

"Let's see how business holds up," Ned
Smith advised.

People stayed away from "The Valkyrie"
by the millions.

In Los Angeles the critics were enthusiastic
and the seats were empty. In Topeka, in
Dallas, in Seattle, in Oklahoma City the
results were the same.



\J[^. XOTTIXGHAM sat at his desk and
■'■''■'■scowled as he looked over the sheets of
figures that showed him the sorr^' results of
his first six months as a master mind in the
picture business.

He was a worried man and his ner\es were
on edge.

He turned to the report that he had pre-
pared for his board of directors the next day.
It called for a production program sogg>' with
culture.

i\Ir. Nottingham was not a fool. He had
made a fair analysis of the situation. For
hours he had checked and re-checked the
figures and his conclusion was incontestable.
He had failed.

The stories that he had O.K.'d grudgingly,
under pressure from Agnes Callahan and Ned
Smith, had made mone\- — l5ut not enough
money to pay for the losses on "The Valkyrie "
and his other favorites. "Blue Eyes" was the
big hit of the year.

Savageh' he^ hit his temple with the heel
of his hand.

"What's the matter with the machinery?"
he asked.

M. L. entered, smiling triumphantlj'. She
handed him a bum h of papers.

"Vou will be interested," she said, "in
seeing how Miss Callahan has been trj-ing to
countermand your orders. \\ ithout authoriza-
tion, she demanded changes in 'The Valkyrie.' "

He read the telegrams.

"Where did you get these?" he said,
angrily.

"In the evenings, when I stay late," she
said proudly, "I look through the files in
the outer office."

He pulled himself to his feet. '.'M. L.,"
he thundered, "that is dirty, low, mean
business." He glanced at the telegrams. "If
we had had more horses, perhaps we would
not have lost half a million dollars, M. L." —
he took a deep breath. The moment had
come. Discouraged, irritated, his courage
rose. He would discharge her. "M. L.,'" he
said, "I don't like the way — I am determined
that — j'ou are — j'ou are — "

"What am I?" she asked.

He could not do it.

""V/OXJ ha\e been with me for years," he

-'• said, "and — and have been very faithful

and — efficient. I am going to give you a \'aca-

I tion, a long vacation — on full pay, of course.

Take a month, two months, three months.

That's it, three months."

"But, ]Mr. Nottingham — " she protested.

"Go ahead. Vou've earned it. Fix it up.
Right away. We'll trj- to find someone to
take your place."

"Are you sure^" she began.

"Of course. You go right away."

And something in his tone made her murmur
her thanks, and with her chin in the air,
she turned and left the office.

He sank down, relieved, as if he had sold a
stock just before it dropped forty points.
Three months without M. L.! After three



months, what then? No need to worry now
about that.

He picked up the schedule he had laid out
for the coming year — a schedule that Agnes
Callahan and Ned Smith had protested vigor-
ously, but which ]M. L. had agreed was
admirable. He tore it, and dropped it into
the waste basket.

He hurried down the hall to Agnes Callahan's
office and entered.

"May I come in?" he asked.

"Certainly. Please sit down."

"LJE looked around at the snug room. There
-'• -'•were easy chairs, books, and on the walls
were pictures — snapshots, young people, old
people, children playing in the park, a group
on a beach, a picture of a main street in a small
town. Most of the other offices were hung
■n-ith autographed photographs of stars. This
one had no touch of movies.

"Jliss Callahan," he said, "I need help."

''I know it,' she answered, simply.

"I cannot get the hang of this motion
picture business."

As he made the admission his cares seemed
to leave him. It was the first time in his
business career that he ever had admitted
failure. He should have been hiunUiated.
Instead he was exalted.

"I'm the doctor?" she smiled.

He nodded. "Prescribe."

"I'll have to operate," she warned.

"Use dynamite, if you think it's the thing
to do," he surrendered.

"Your forgetter is too active. I'll have to
take it out."

"Go ahead, doctor," he agreed.

She was silent for a moment.

"What's the best book you ever read?"'
she asked suddenly.

"Well, er — I don't read much. Probably
something of Dickens or — I remember a storj'
of Arnold Bennett's. I can't recall."

"Ever read 'Huckleberry Finn'?"

He laughed aloud and sl.apped his knee.
"I had forgotten all about 'Huck'!" he ex-
claimed. "Remember when Jim was in the
cabin, chained to the bed?"

"And they made him eat the sawdust! And
the King and the Duke?"

"I must read 'Huck Finn' again," he said.

She took a worn volume from a shelf and
handed it to him. "Use my copy,'' she
offered. "Remember Electric Park in Kansas
Cily?"

"Vaguely," he admitted. "There was a
band that played. Oh, yes, and .Mligator Joe ! '

"Wasn't it mar%elous how he used to wrestle
with alligators?"

"I wonder what ever became of him?" he
mused.

REMEMBER the 'Priests of Pallas'
parades?" she inquired. "And the ball?"

"Of course. I rode on one of the floats once
when I was a kid."

"We're getting somewhere," she declared.

"But this has nothing to do ^^■ith business,"'
he interjected.

"Yes, it has." She waved a hand at the
pictures. "These are old friends, that I
knew out West. They are the folks we make
pictures for — just ordinary, nice, intelligent
folks Uke me" — she smiled — "and like you,
if the operation is a success."

"I'm beginning to understand."

"I pick stories that these people will like,"
she said. "There's Tom Denton over there,
\nth his arm around a girl — Nancy Fitch she
was, before she married him. He's a lawyer
in Kansas City. And up in the corner, see,
that's my Aunt EUzabeth. Sometimes I read
a story that I am sure is not for her, so I
turn to that freckle faced little de\il in the
football clothes. If it seems to suit him I
decide that is what we want, and write Aunt
Elizabeth a letter telling her that she had
better not go when the picture comes to town —
that it is a little too wild for her. So, of
course, she goes, and takes all the other
members of the Sewing Club."



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Photoplay Magazine for December, 1929 I 3 5

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"Of course," said Mr. Nottingham.

"Your trouble, Mr. Nottingham, is that
you have lost the Kansas City touch."

"Yes," he said, slowly, "I believe you."

She leaped to her feet. "That's the stulJ!"
she announced. She took four or live pho-
tographs off the wall and placed them on her
desk.

"The main show in the big tent is about to
begin," she beamed. "Mr. Nottingham, let
me introduce the customers!" She resumed
her seat and took a file of papers out of a desk
dra^ve^. "Now let's put on fifty-two shows
for them. Let's make them whoop and
holler and spend money. Won't you smoke,
Mr. Nottingham, or \\ould you like a stick
of this chewing gum?"

"I think I'd like to try the gum," he said.



TTIE directors' meeting was over. Henry
-'• K. Nottingham had read his report,
admitted his mistakes, advanced his plans for
the year to come. The bankers applauded —
and when a banker applauds it is only for
big time stuff.

"Congratulations, Nottingham," said R. W.
Nelson, chairman of the board. "I must
admit that I was getting a little bit squeamish
about your polity. You've worked it out,
though, just as I predicted you would."

"Yes," said Alfred Lowman, another banker,
"we are set for real profits now. It just goes
to show that a big man in one business is a
big man in any business."

They took their twenty dollar gold pieces,
the wages of directors, and left.

Henry K. Nottingham hurried to .Agnes
Callahan's ofiice.

"How did it go?" she asked eagerly.

"Great!" he said, "thanks to you — and to
Kansas City."

"Everything is all right then?"

"It will be," he said, "if you will go to
dinner with me tonight. We'll celebrate."

"Of course I'll go. Where?"

"To one of those table d'hote places, where
they dance."

"Shall I dress?"

".A.S you like," he said. "As for me, I
have bought a new blue shirt with a blue
stiff collar and a red and yellow tie."

"Good boy!" she beamed.

She was happy, for as the lion instinctively
knows when hunters are approaching, Agnes
Callahan knew that Henry K. Nottingham had
made up his mind to marry her. Which
was the ending she had planned!



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Online LibraryMoving Picture Exhibitors' AssociationPhotoplay (Volume 36 – 37 (Jul. - Dec. 1929)) → online text (page 139 of 145)