Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett
In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “The Majestic Theatre and Palace Music Hall had us all do their work as usual, but not very much new work.” “But not very much new work” is very telling. The industry was in a state of turmoil and business was becoming erratic for scenic artists. They could no longer anticipate a steady stream of work; it was as if someone had turned down the valve and projects were now slowly trickling out.
There were some supply shortages too, with elevated prices due to war rationing. By late spring, Moses wrote, “Our business is not good – far from it. Raw material has advanced so rapidly that we are unable to keep up with it, and I am very much worried about the outcome.” The studio did not have enough work to keep Moses on full-time, and he was the president of the company. By summer Moses noted, “June business had a slump, so I took a little time to plant our first garden, and we had some garden. It was a little hard at first, but soon I got used to it and rather liked it. My neighbors insisted on making fun of me as they claimed that was the first real work they ever saw me do. I wish they could see me lay in a big wood drop on a hot summer’s day. I think they would change their minds about my easy work.”
In addition to the decline of work, scarcity of materials due to the war, there was another obstacle that was forever growing bigger – the popularity of movies. In 1918, Moses wrote, “Mama and I have become movie fans. Many of the pictures are very good, while some are far from it.” The rise of movie fans reflected a shift in audience expectations. By fall, Moses would resign as the president of Sosman & Landis, hoping for greener pastures with New York Studios.
But a new threat was on the horizon for Moses and many theaters employees; one that would throw another wrench into the works – the Spanish Flu – and it hit theaters hard. Moses possibly picked the worst time to leave Sosman & Landis.
On Oct. 27, 1918, “The Des Moines Register” reported, “Appetites of Movie Fans, Whetted by Lack of Shows, Manager Says” (page 27). The article announced, “Local Film Houses Expect Big Rush of Business As Soon As Quarantine for Flu is Lifted.” Here is the article:
“What are the movie fans all doing while the theaters are closed on account of the ‘flu,” and what will be the after effect of going for two weeks without a glimpse of fascinating Douglas, excruciating Charlie, bewitching Mary, thrilling Theda – or whomsoever else may happen to be a particular film god or goddess that attracts one irresistibly to the movies?
Answers to these questions are as varied and numerous as the persons asked; more varied, even, than the classes who make up the crowds that daily and nightly pack the movie theatres to their full seating capacities when they are in operation.
As to what their patrons are doing during their enforced vacation, proprietors and managers of local moving picture houses have apparently given scant thought, but they are all of one mind regarding the psychological effect to be expected when the ban has been lifted.
‘Don’t know what they’re doing in the meanwhile – probably reading magazines, visiting among themselves or, maybe, helping make face masks to hasten the end of quarantine,” is about the way the average movie manager sums up the situation.
‘But when the shows reopen, they’ll fairly eat them up! Their appetites will be whetted up: they’ll be less critical – not so prone to pick flaws and criticize as they were before. Get out of the movie habit? No danger! It would take a generation to accomplish that. Attendance will be greater than ever when the quarantine is lifted.’
Acting on that conviction, the movie magnates are having their houses renovated and made more attractive on the inside and out – are planning irresistible drawing cards to present when they reopen – and are tightening up all the loose screws in the seats which are to accommodate record breaking crowds.
‘I only hope that the type known as ‘movie fiends’ are improving the opportunity by staying at home and cultivating the acquaintances of their families,’ says City Mother McMichael; who goes on to explain that she is not opposed to clean, wholesome movies; in fact, she enjoys them. She believes the moving picture film possesses marvelous potential educational value – which, unfortunately, is being largely neglected, while the baser instincts of the public, particularly the younger people, are appealed to and inflamed by sey [sic.] films which do irreparable harm.
‘Maybe the boys who have been shut out of the pool halls will get acquainted with the girls who have been spending all their evenings at the movies, and – there’s no telling what will happen then,’ suggest a policeman, who considers Billy West superior to Charlie Chaplin.
‘The movie fans are reading,’ was an instantaneous reply of a young woman behind the counter of a city library. ‘The demand for books, since the closing order went into effect, amounts almost to a stampede. Thousands of strange faces are lining up at this counter daily, seeking literary substitutes for movie thrills.
‘What class of literature? Fiction – of the ‘popular’ variety. Problem novels are in greatest demand, particularly those that have been dramatized or filmed. Suppose they are reading up on the stories, which they have visualized on the screen. Oh no, there is no appreciable increase in the demand for books on domestic science, the arts, or technical subject.
‘Psychological effect?’ repeated Be Woolgar, superintendent of public safety. ‘I don’t know what effect the closing order will have o the movie fan, but when the theaters reopen they’ve got to pay more attention to the matter of keeping the red lights burning at all emergency exits.”
To be continued…
