Chapter IX

_Long shots, intermediates and close-ups--“Hogging_
_the camera” and ingenious leading men--_
_Keeping one’s poise under fire._

While the actress will exert herself in every “shot” or “take”--as the separate exposures of a scene are called--she comes to know that the result of her acting upon the screen is greatly influenced by the distance from the camera that she has worked.

There are, for our present purposes, three different distances which we work from the camera. There is the long shot, the intermediate and the close-up or insert. With the gradations of these we need not now concern ourselves.

The long shot is usually taken to establish the atmosphere and setting of a scene. In this the actress finds herself ordinarily so far from the camera that her facial expression registers indifferently. For that reason the body movement, with which she is playing a character, substitutes for facial expression. She is known to the audience by her costume and carriage and makes her appeal largely through these.

Most of the dramatic action is now played at three-quarters length; that is from the face to the knees. As we weave in and out of a scene, very often the entire body is shown and the feet have their opportunity for expression--they assuredly act!--but the majority of the intermediate shots through which the dramatic action is conducted cut off the lower part of the body.

Here, in brief, is the combination of facial expression and bodily movement that establishes the actress. It will be through the intermediate shots that my candidate will make or break. All our preparation for a part and our fitness for it are here brought to the test.

An important item in this phase of screen acting is the effect that those playing opposite will exert upon one. The good actor or actress helps one. Things seem to swim along. Work becomes a pleasure!

But very often the actress will find that she is forced to work opposite other actresses or actors whose style is disagreeable. If they are too loud or too full of antics it has the effect of taking your mind off your work--if you let it! In such a case very often the director will observe the difficulty and a word of caution spoken in private to the offending actor or actress will improve conditions.

But sometimes the director is not observing and you are forced to make the best of conditions. I recall one rather well-known actor who, to use a frank expression, “spits as he talks.” If I should ever be compelled to play opposite him again I should prepare myself either with an umbrella or a bathing suit. I think it was only his total unconsciousness of this habit that made it possible for me to continue.

We women are told that we are very vain. Perhaps we are. But if my experience with male actors may be taken as a criterion I should say that vanity has been pretty well distributed throughout the world.

With a few notable exceptions, I make bold to affirm that the leading man counts that day lost when he has not stolen the camera from the star (poor girl!) not once but several times. In the profession we call this “hogging the camera.”

The tricks that some of these amiable gentlemen will play to keep themselves in the immediate center of the foreground deserve nothing less than a volume. This leads to many amusing experiences.

I remember one leading man who had a habit of falling back from the camera during the progress of a scene. The result of this, of course, was to turn me toward him, leaving my back exposed to the camera. He was very ingenuous. I thought, at first, the habit was unintentional.

But as work upon our play progressed he repeated this maneuver often enough to convince me that I was dealing with a rather clever artist in his way. I began to anticipate him. When he started to drop away from the camera, instead of turning toward him, as I had previously done, I stood still and practiced talking over my shoulder.

This had the value, at least, of showing my face and not my back to the audience. In addition it gave me an unequal prominence in the picture, since he was standing three or four feet behind me. Realizing his disadvantage he quickly resumed a position beside me and thereafter abandoned his little trick.

Since that time, however, I have seen him in other plays and he is quite as original as ever.

I might go on indefinitely with such instances. Enough that the artist must be on her guard for it seems to be acting-nature to want to “hog the camera.” But as the stars and directors are aware of this tendency its accomplishment has become more difficult.

It is particularly trying, too, to play opposite one of your own sex who insists upon over-acting. This is a common case. This kind of actress generally realizes that she has but a few important moments before the camera and is determined to make the best of them even if she has to “act the star off the set.” I have actually felt sometimes as though I were being pushed from the stage by some actress, who, without any particular reason, has come in like a whirlwind.

The beginner will find himself best off if he does not let the style of those playing opposite him affect him too much. If the style is good take advantage of it. It will be real help. If it is bad one should the more concentrate upon his part and thus maintain his own poise under difficulties.

If in these important intermediate shots where the most of the dramatic action is sustained we remember the various points that we have discussed we should come off acceptably.

The silent drama is silent only in its completed product. Before the camera lines are spoken and it is of utmost importance that they be pronounced clearly and with feeling.

In spoken sub-titles that are expressively mouthed and well-timed in the cutting, the sub-title seems to blend in with the voice--though it be unheard--of the speaker, particularly so to the spectator who is clever at lip-reading.

While it is not necessary to memorize a great number of lines, as on the spoken stage, it is necessary that those lines which are read be given with the correct shade of feeling, just as they should be on the dramatic stage.

Lines are particularly important to many persons who show a maximum of expression while speaking. Here the silent voice is a genuine asset.

Most close-ups, or inserts, as we call them, are of the face alone. Sometimes there may be a close-up of a hand, a foot, etc., but the most acceptable style of direction these days seems to be not to overdo in this respect.

In the close-up the face of the actress is usually about 24 inches from the camera. Every line of her face, every thought, indeed, her very soul, will now be more or less registered. Nothing, in the whole range of screen acting, is more effective than the close-up.

The insert is always to depict a particular emotion. In a single scene, in the intermediate shots, we have perhaps expressed several degrees of feeling but in the insert it is a matter of one emotion at a time.

Here we are not aided by the action or expression of any brother artist. It is entirely a matter of imagination or feeling. The lens of the camera, like the eye of a Cyclops, is staring sheerly at us and it is not necessary to feel its breath to believe that it is a living thing.

When called upon for an insert we know precisely the emotion that we are supposed to express and will bend every effort to concentrate upon it.

To begin with there are two important things to remember in the insert. One is that the make up should be very much lighter than in the long or intermediate shots; the other, that the action will be slower.

The reasons are fairly obvious. If the same make up that is used in the dramatic action is continued it becomes immediately too conspicuous. Slower action is necessary because at the distance of two feet the camera is limited in the speed of movement that it can faithfully record.

In the insert we are ever reminded of the value of repression. The mere expression of the eyes may be all that is necessary to convey to the audience the emotion of the player. The truth is that the effectiveness of the close-up seems to be in inverse proportion to the amount of facial action in it.

When we behold an insert in which there is much grimacing and contortion of the face we realize that there is no real depth of feeling. It is playing at feeling.

On the other hand I have seen vital emotion so delicately expressed in the insert that its effect was haunting and beautiful. Observe in “Broken Blossoms” and “Way Down East” the close-ups of Lillian Gish.

Much as the good old “back spot” is popular among the fluffy blonds, so is the insert welcomed by all screen actresses. We believe that it shows us off at our best and brings us nearer, as it were, to our audiences.

Yet there are some actresses favored over others by the insert. One whose features are naturally coarse, or hard, loses something when in close contact with the camera. Others, like myself, who have small features, and believe, therefore, that we are often at a disadvantage in the long and intermediate shots, are only too glad of the opportunity to prepare for an insert.

Indeed, our directors sometimes make a jest of saying that we seem to want a drama of inserts. But it is never quite so bad as that.