Evening Star Newspaper, June 29, 1930, Page 78

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, b, C, JUNE 29, 1930. PICTURE FRAMED—5y Octavus Roy Cohen - A Major Inci- dent in an Artistic Career, With a Movie Production Outfit in the Back- - ground. ALIGNANT SMITH was large, ambitious and dumb. But—dumb as he was—he kuew that he covet- ed a job with Midnight Pictures Corporation, Ine, as he had never wanted anything else. He had known of Mid- night for years, because even in the little - town of Habersham there was a <colored pic- ture house which had featured these scintilant two-reel comedies by and of Negroes. Sinece She advent of the talkies, Midnight comedies no longer played the Negro house at Haber- sham, because that edifice was not wired for sound projection; but Malignant eould be dis- cerned occasionally loafing in front of the Palace, Habersham’s foremost white theater, where the two-reel talkies were creating a And now the mountain had come to Ma- homet. Malignant had long entertained am- bitions to visit Birmingham and try his luck with Midnight, but had noever gotten around to it. He was always too busy doing nothing. Therefore, he thrilled when news was brought to him that one Midnight production unit was encamped on the shores of Mustard Creek, a stream which meandered through a woodland about 8 miles from the town of Habersham. Malignant declared a holiday for himself and tramped 8 weary miles to the spot where Midnight was on location. And what he saw filled him with enthusiasm and won- der. Midnight was busy—very busy indeed. This particular unit was under the command of Director Edwin Boscoe Fizz, who was as- sisted by his pulchritudinous wife, Glorious; Opus Randall, star; Author Forcep Swain; Sound Mixer Callous Deechc; and an electri- cal erew under the command of Julian Fever. At the moment of Malignant’'s arrival the com- pany was rehearsing a boating scene. Near the stream was parked the location truek, with its generator, batteries, recording machine and microphone and camera hookups. MALIGNANT watched the rehearsals and the shooting of a scene wherein Opus Randall was pitched violently out of a canoce and banged consistently on the head with a yubber ocar. Then lunch was called a«nd the culinary department announced thai fresh barbecue and Brunswick stew was being served amder the trees. Mr. Smith moved into the grove. He was enormously impressed that so insignificant a creature as Eddie Fizz could be in command of an outfit like this. Malignant reflected upon the vagaries of Fate and Circumstance. Here he was, 6 feet 2 inches tall and possessing better than 200 pounds of bone and muscle * * * and he was about to ask a faver of & shrimp like Mr. Fizz. Malignant was acecus- tomed to taking what he wanted by sheer power of muscle, yet it struck him that it would prob- ably be lacking in tact for him to address Eddie Fizz thusly: “Say—if you don't gimme a job, Ise gwine frail you over the haid.” He did debate the idea for a few seconds before dis- carding it, and then waited patiently until a gorged sigh from Mr. Fizz informed the world that the little director had consumed ample Junch. Feeling that this was a strategic mo- ment, Malignant advanced to the attack. “Is you the bossman heah?" Mr. Fizz gazed up at the dark, human moun- tain which accosted him. “That's the one thing I ain’t nothin’ else but.” “I—1 reckoned so when I seen you tellin’ ev'ybody else what to do. An’ also I could guess 3t fum that noble look you got.” Eddie finished with pardonable pride. “My name is Mistuh Pizz,” said he. “I is the director in charge of this production.” “An’ me—my name is Malignant Smith. Eddie extended his hand. “Ise much obliged to meet you, Mistuh Smith. Do you live down thisaway?” E A wistful Jook “I walked all the way out fess. “Always I has craved to git me a job with you folks, an’ when I heard you was lo- down heah fo' some pitchers, right away !g.mymhxdtogobworkwm An' concealed a smile. sort of work did you aim to uh Smith?” an actor?” I never acted a Nck™ ,a lectrician? Or a carpenter, or g?" “Nossuh. I ain't none of them things.” “Well, what can you do?” é;g;:;;gggg “Folks,” announced Vinnie persuasive- X ly—“Soempin’ terrible happened heah earlt this mawning'. TH!.' eyes of Mr. Smith alighted on the green and gold location truck which had cest Midnight twenty thousand dollars and which marked the ultimate step in modern talkie ad- vancement. “I could drive that truck, Mistuh Piaz.” Eddie shook his head. “Ise sorry, Malignant but we got a driver.” “Who he?” “Yinnie Napp.” Mr. PFizz pointed to a di- minutive figure which leaned against the truck. “That's him yonder.” “That 1i’'l light-brown feller?” “Uh-huh™ “Hg's yo’ truck driver?” “He ain't nothin’ else.” “Why, shuh, Mistui: Pisz—Ise twice as big as him an’ ten times as strong.” “Yeh, I know. But Vinnie is a good driver, an’ there ain’t no reason why us should fire him, is there?” * “No—not less'n you was keen to git me.” “We is,” said Eddie tactfully. “But I don't hardly think it would be fair to Vinnie, Satis- faction is the most thing he has give us, an’ we don't crave to do him no dirt.” “An’—an’ you ain’t got no other job fo' me?” “Nary job. Ise sorry.” “Mistuh Fizz, where you stop off bein’ sorry— tha's just where I begin at. Ise plumb mis’- able.” Eddie clambered to his feet. “You come to Bumminham some time an’ talk with President Latimer. Maybe so he can find a place fo’ you. But just now there ain’t nothin’ we can do.” A pained expression settled on Malignant's face. He ambled away. His large foot carried . him to the vicinity of the little truck driver who was completing another large sandwich. Vinnie Napp was not an imposing person. He was about 5 feet 4 inches in height, and had the complexion of very weak iodine. His clothes were shabby and his manner indifferent, as though he didn't even appreciate his job. Malignant stood looking down at the little man who stood beiveen him and the only Mid- night job he was competent to fill. It occurred to Malignant that he wasn't at all fond of Vinnie. And what made it worse was that the more he saw Vinnie doing nothing the more convinced he became that this was the sort of job he could fill to perfection. Vinnie felt a hateful stare upon him. He looked up into the visage of Malignant Smith and blinked. As a matter of fact, the shy and modest Vinnie experienced a faint misgiving. “See anything?” he demanded with a show of courage. “Just a hunk of tripe.” “Meanin’ who?” “You!” growied Malignant. “An’ what is you gwine do about it?” Mr. Napp closed his eyes. “Who?>" “You.” “Do about what?” “Bein’ a piece of tripe.” “Gosh!” murmured Vinnie with candor. “I reckon a feller cain’t help it if he’s & piece of tripe, can he?” Malignant made a gesture of annoyanece. “Cain’t you even take an insult?” “Nope,” said Vinnie promptly, “I cain't.” “How come not?>” “’Cause long ago I learned that ev'y time I'd git my dandruff up at somebody I always would wind up in a hospital. So now does any- body have a good time callin’ me out of my name, I wishes him plenty of good breff to th’ow after bad.” “You ain’t got no courage.” “Big bay, you sho'ly spoke troof that time.” “An’ you wouldn’t fight, would you?” “I ail't no fighter. Ise a truck driver” “Yeh—an’ I bet I s a better one than you is.” “I bet so, too.” “An’ Ise a good mechanic,” boasted Malig- nant. “X eould just look at you an’ see that.” Malignant’s manner altered. “Ain’t you got no need fo’ a good mechanic, Mistuh Napp? T'd sho’ like to work with you.” Vinnie shook his head. “But you could use a mechanic, couldn’'t you?” “I ain’t saying I couldn’t.” “An’ you ain't said yoy could. Now, I ask you, could you eould or you couldn’t?" “I don't ‘know nothin’' 'bout nothin’, large feller. All I know is that I has got a swell job, which I crave to keep. An’ I ain’t gittin’ sug- gestive that the comp’ny gives me no ’sistant fo’ fear they’ll go out an’ hire somebody fo’ my job whieh ain’t got such highfalutin’ ideas. An’ now I got to git to work. We is takin' some shots down the crick an’ they got to have the truck there.” “Fo’ what?” “Cause our batteries an’ interlock is on board,” explained Vinnie, gleefully airing his dechnical knowledge. “An’ lessm I is there they cain't git their stuff in synchrony.” Mulignant staggered. “Gosh! Do you have to do all that?” “Uh-huh,” returned the little man compla- cently. “With Midnight ev'rybody has got to be an expert.” A RAUCOUS command from Callous Deech, the sound engineer, caused Vinnie to leap into the driver’s seat. The starter hummed, the motor thrummed, and Vinnie guided it toward the water's edge, where the electrical staff took charge and commenced hanging cylindrical microphones to boughs of trees. Malignant gazed at the tense activity. He was considerably appalled by technicalities, and his chief ambition of the moment was to be- come an auto mechanic. But suddenly the town of Habersham had become very tiny, and Malignant found himself yearning for the flesh- pots of Birmingham and one of the fabulous salaries which he had heard Midnight paid its employes. Others had drifted out to watch the Negro company in action. Two of these were young farmers, who were particularly interested in the sound truck. One of them conveyed some in- teresting information to Vinnie Napp. “Whyn’'t you come to Habersham tonight, Vinnie was slightly superior. “How come I should?” “We's got a dance there. All the swell cullud folks is gwine be present, an’ they sho’ would be proud to entertain somebody fum the com- pny.” “Says you?” Vinnie considered the matter. His impulse was to arrange with some one else from the company to go with him, but he dis- carded that thought instantly. If a Midnight to be that one, and it was a cinch else who might accompany him own luster. Besides—— nohow,” he said “Uh-hub. AR night long I got to keep my motor runnin’ so my battries will stay » “Golla. ."BM-” anyway, where this here dance hall at?>” ’ “Right on the main road, two mile befo’ you git to Habersham. It's about six mile fum heah.” “I'll remember,” promised Mr. Napp. “But I ain't gwine be there. I got to be careful who I dissociate with.” Yet, when the day’s work was finished Vinnie again bethought himself of the invita- game in progress, and in another hut a poker game was getting under way. Mournfully Vinnie drove into the woods. There was one feature of this location business which was not so popular with him. Because batteries must be kept charged in order that there might be sufficient current for the next day's shooting, Vinnie was compelled to keep his motor running all night. And the first night on location the company had protested loudly against the incessant thrumming of the six cylinders, with the result that Vinnie had been banished to a distant spot. Being alone in the woods made no appeal to him, even though he could see the lights of the camp. The motor kept him awake, too. Yet he was afraid to leave his truck, lest some vandal should tamper with the motor. Tonight he found his sleeping spot, a.shanty sufficiently far from the camp to save the actors’ slumbers from disturbance. Mr. Napp hooked up his generator, slipped to the ground, lighted a cigarette, and stared un- happily into the gloom In the camp, poker and bridge anu music, Six miles away, at Habersham, a swell dance. And here he was, miserably alone. The more he reflected upon that dance, the more ir- resistible became its appeal. He envisioned himself appearing at the hall and announcing himself as an important member of Midnight Pictures Corporation, Inc. He knew he would receive the warmest kind of a welcome. NINE o'clock. Nothing to do, and 10 hours in which to do it. Six miles away jamy music and pretty gals. And it struck him then that his motor was running anyway. Gasoline was being used . . . why shouldn't that gas serve the purpose of conveying him to the dance on the outskirts of Habersham, and of later bringing him back? He smiled. He would see to it that the motor continued to run while he danced, and no one in camp would be the wiser. Somehow—without knowing how ke got there—he was in the driver's seat of the truck, purring along the road toward Haber- sham and happiness. Whatever feeling of guilt may have been in his bosom was momentarily overshadowed by anticipation of pleasure. Toe-tickling music and gay lights informed him that he had arrived. The pavilion stood in the midst of a little grove, and Vinnie could see colored couples moving about the crowded dance floor. He whirled grandly in at the gate, parked his car under the trees, left his motor running and climbed down from his seat. A large, rotund colored individual with a red sash around his mezzanine was bustling for- ward, face beaming. His eyes were focused on the side of the truck: Midnight Pictures Corporation, Inec. The Best in Colored Talkies. Officer R. Latimer, Prest. Birmingham, Alabama. “You is fum the Midnight comp'ny?” “That's the most thing I is,” swelled Vinnie, “Is you the president?” “Well, no,” answered Mr. Napp modestly. “But in some ways I has got a mo’ important job than him.” “You is an actor?” “Gosh, no. I wouldn't be such.” “Then what is you?” “Ise a technicker.” “A which?” “A technicker. Ever since sound pitchers come in Midnight has trained men to do their technicking, an’ I is the most feller that does such.” “Gee gosh! Ain't you marvellious! An’ may I ask yo’ name?” “My name is Mistuh Vinnie Napp. Why?* “’Cause, Mistuh Napp, it does us proud te welcome you as our gues’ at this fo'th annual dance of the Open Road Hiking an’ Barbecue Sassiety of Habersham, Alabama; an’ if you will design to come in, I take great pleasure in straducin’ you to all the best-lookin'est gals we has got, which their name is lesion.” Vinnie accepted eagerly. He was in the grip of an exaltation which he had never before known The fat Ytt\ man hesitated for just a moment. “Ain’t you gwine turn off yo' motor, Mistuh Napp?” Vinnie shrugged. “I reckon mot”™ “But you is wastin’ gas.” “Sho’ly. But where did you ever heah of a fust-class movin’ pitcher comp'ny that didn’t waste somethin’? An’ besides, if I leave my