Evening Star Newspaper, March 23, 1930, Page 86

4 THE SUNDAY Super-Moving This Is the Diary of a - Hollyzvood Director WhoSupervised the Moving of 1001 ons of Studio Equip- ment to the Heart of Africa for Filming a Thriller in Which Hundreds of Wild Animals Were Extrasand Props. BY W. S. VAN DYKE, (The director who filmed “Trader Horn” in the jungle.) (On board the S. S. Usaramo, April 18.) HEN I was told in Hollywood a couple of months ago that I had been selected to lead a Metro - Goldwyn - Mayer movie wexpedition into Africa to make a film version of “Trader Horn” it occurred to me that the enterprise might some time make interesting reading. So I decided to keep a logbook of our adventures. The making of any great picture is a romance in itself. But in this instance a new modus operandi would be employed. We would go to the shores Trader Horn described, risk with him the fevers, the animals, the hostile native tribes. In each detail we would endeavor to live again the life of the old man who “traded” up and down half the rivers of Africa. And the fact that a camera would follow us as we went seemed to detract nothing from the realism of the situation, and to add little to its com- plexity. That, as I say, was two months ago. That was before I saw as I do now the vast prep- aration such an expedition requires. In point of time we were to make* almost the longest . Aside from the actual distance we were to travel there was this matter of equipment. On every hand were advised that to take than & kit into Africa was sheer lishness. And yet, by our closest figuring, were unable to reduce the weight of our necessities to less than 80 to 90 toms. generator—the machine which would sup- us t the jungle—weighed 10 tons; apparatus 5 tons; to say nothing camera paraphernalia, the high-power arc lights, laboratory equipment and the thousand-and-one smaller articles which were essential to the filming of anything other than the simplest news reels. 8 g P 25 3 R the first time in the history of movies I was to take a studio picture in the African jungle. It was my duty, virtually, to transport the facilities of a Hollywood studio 12,000 miles to a spot in the wilds of British Bast Africa and there to make a coherent story, employing American actors for the principal parts and trusting to the natural hunger of the animals and natives and a ‘Winchester .405 to supply the thrills, All I had to do was to restore to life the experiences of an adventurous fellow who did nothing better than barter goods with a lot of natives, and proceed to tell the world about it. But as he went, let me add in fairness to myself, he was required to pack no electrical generator, no sound devices. The fact that the sun could not penetrate the jungle was to him & surcease from the tropical heat rather than 8 condition which must be rectified by use of ponderous arc lights and reflectors. Of course, consistent with the general in- consistency of the human mind, the more I considered the impossibility of the expedition, the more I became convinced that T would like to go and prove it possible. I went from Hollywood March 18. ‘There were 15 of us in all; Harry Carey, who had been selected to play the part of the Trader; BEdwina Booth to be Nina T, ‘the White Goddess; Duncan Renaldo, cast as Little Peru, three camexg men, two electricians, two tech- nical experts, a script clerk, a carpenter, a white hunter, a laboratory man and myself. fMombasa, British East Africa, May 1.) 'I‘ON!GHT I am sitting in my room at the \* “Palace Hotel. This morning we were landed at Kilindini, the port of Mombasa, a few miles down the road. All day we have been check- ing over our baggage and assisting his majesty’s custome officers in clearing the tons of equip- ment being unloaded from the ship. To the -west are the hills. A shiny silk STAR, WASHIKGTON, D. C, MARCH 23, Pictuie Production . 1930. # Each admired the other. Edwina Booth, who played the W hite Goddess in the African production, and a Kavirondo warrior whose hippo-teeth hat she envied as much as he admired her long, yellow hair. Mounted on a floating platform of dugout canoes, the cameramen surmounted many difficulties in making real “studio pictures” in Africa for the first time, They are shown here “shooting” the approach to a native village on the Thika River, Kenya colony. thread stretches up through them and out of sight. It is the single track railroad to Nairobi, 336 miles inland. You can load your kit on this train and set out into the interior. But when you decide to get off your responsibility begins. Your equipment is thrown off with you and if you want to move it further—go ahead, you have your hands. (Nairobi, Kenya, May 4.) I have decided to levy “my children” at the new Stanley Hotel for a week or so while I take some of my camera men and technical men up-country with me to look over locations, That will save the delay of waiting here to out- fit a safari and then proceeding in a body to look around. By the time the actors arrive and the equipment is set up ready to use, I will have everything ready to “shoot” at sight. Unless circumstances or a heavy rain prevent «« . and a heavy rain will prevent anything here . . . I will shove off with my advance guard day after tomorrow. We will make Kampala our first stop. That is a small settlement on the west side of Lake Victoria, about three days’ journey from here by train, auto and foot. From there we can strike out farther west in search .of crocodiles, a savage native tribe, and various other props useful to the successful African movie director. (Butiaba, Uganda, May 21.) HAVE decided to include the activities of the past 10 days in one entry. During that time we have covered about 1,400 miles of country, but since it is all to be covered more thoroughly by our combined party later, and since we were in too much of a hurry to make careful note of anything but the most general details, I feel that it is best to confine myself to more accurate expositions later. (Butiaba, Uganda, May 21.) It was our purpose on the small “high-pres- sure” safari from which I have just returned to make a rapid examination of certain parts of the country which had been suggested to me as being suitable for locations. It was my modest ambition to find 500 crocodiles who could pass a Hollywood make-up test, a herd of elephants who could listen to reason, a few plain and fancy rhinos who could be depended upon to charge the camera upon request, as well as a tribe of pygmies, a witch doctor and a giant native who was intelligent enough to handle the part of Renchero, the fourth most important character in the picture. And—without being too literal about it—we were successful in each instance. At Murchison Falls we found 500 crocodiles and many more hippos—so many in fact, that they almost upset the launch which was taking us up the Victo= rian Nile to the falls. Traveling up the White Nile from Lake Ale bert to Rhino Camp we passed large herds of elephants, also part of the preserve. They are there, there is no doubt of that, but when we begin operations with cameras, arc lights, and generators it is a question as to just what will transpire. It is illegal to shoot them, and they don't speak English. The only thing I can think of is peanuts. Perhaps it is best to do all the worrying when the time comes. (Masindi, Uganda, May 22.) FOR the first time in Africa, the entire “Trade er Horn” company is together. I am a little flabbergasted at the size of the combined expeditions. Outside my window I can see the 17 motor lorries carrying our kit. Across the road in a clearing 100 boys are pitche ing their beds and mosquito nets for the night. They are all part of our safari, engaged as personal servants, cooks, porters and waiters, The two hunters, who accompanied me—Maj. Dickinson and R. C. Bowring—have been join- ed by three more. A. Sydney Waller, who will have charge of the entire safari; J. C. Barnes and H. B. Stanton. Upon the heads of these “old-timers” will rest the responsibility of bringing 25 Americans through the heart of the big game country umscatched. (Panyamur, Uganda, May 27.) Today we turned the first crank in the filme ing of “Trader Horn.” I'll try to explain just how one goes about taking a’ “professional” moving picture in Africa. First, let's have a look at the script—the book of directions for making the picture. Here we find the story revised into photograph-able form, and split up into paragraphs, each ope requiring a different camera angle in filming. These are numbered and marginally headed “Long Shot,” “Close Up,” “Medium Long Shot,” etc., and contain a description of the action included In the shot. It is the director’s duty to see that action is forthcoming from the actor; to interpret it to his conception of the story. The setting and properties of each loca= tion are described in the script in a general