FILM’S LIFE

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 630, 5 April 1929, Page 1

FILM’S LIFE

From Hollywood to Garbage Dump WHERE OLD PICTURES GO Where are the films of yesterday, the dramas, comedies, and romances screened in Auckland a year or two ago? Do they return to Hollywood, or wherever they first saw the light? Do they find a market among amateur screen enthusiasts? Do they just die of old age when scratched and cracked beyond repair? Those are the questions. Perhaps, they will be answered more simply if a standard length film, Mr. Fox Feature, becomes a “talkie.” He is old apd much-travelled—a picture of experience. “When I was born in Hollywood prints were taken from my mother film—-the one that passed through the movie camera,” he says.. “Many brothers had I, and we went out into the world with orders to visit every country except Russia. PRINTS FOR NEW ZEALAND “I came alone to New Zealand. Some of my colleagues are deemed of such importance that two, or even three, come together; three members of the “Four Sons” family came to the Dominion; but I was just a good, ordinary feature. “On arrival at Auckland, the place of my debut, , my steel can was placed in bond until the date of my release. Then I was taken from bond and hurried to Wellington for screening before the censor. I awaited anxiously the signal for a painful cut, but it was not made, and back I hurried to an Auckland city theatre. “At last the pride of a first-night showing, the blaze of the lamp, the soft purr of the projector and my clear, steady, but ever-changing image playing on the screen. “A week passed and my first city run was over. Now to the suburbs and to the conquering of fresh fields, backed up in my quest by the reflected power of city publicity, the effect of which had penetrated far intp the new area. TO THE PROVINCES “Next I was rushed to a provincial town and after a ‘first run’ there, I moved to the surrounding district. Then on to another town and district. “You may think that by then I was old and stale, but that is far from the case. Each time I entered a new area I was as fresh and up-to-date there as the day I arrived in Auckland. My box-office value was just as high—to my new exhibitors. “In my wanderings 1 combed New Zealand almost as thoroughly as a tax collector. I travelled the country on rail and road, by land and water, under conditions both good and atrocious. Daily my steel can became more bent and battered, but inside I \ # s snug and safe, waiting to bring my share of tears and laughter. “So carefully and widely was I booked that nearly two years passed before I returned to Auckland. During that time I had been screened in every city, town, village and farming centre in the country. New Zealanders from North Cape to the Bluff were given the opportunity of seeing me. Such is the experience of all my colleagues—we tour New Zealand for upwards of two summers. “Next I was off to the Islands on the Tofua, and for nine months I journeyed about the Pacific. Finally I returned to that Auckland vault, not because I was useless, but because I had covered my prescribed area. My publicity sheets, posters, booklets and pictures—the very life-blood of my popularity—were exhausted, and it did not pay to send to New York for more. DOOMED TO FIRE “Thus my doom is sealed. I cannot be exported, for my brother prints are in the same position in other countries: I cannot be sold privately to amateur projectionists. for William Fox forbids this, and I cannot be treated for the recovery of my byproducts, silver and celluloid, as there is no factory in New Zealand, and freight to Sydney would render the plan impracticable. “So I wait, here in Auckland, for the annual ‘blaze,’ when the films of the old year are destroyed in the presence of William Fox’s auditor, a solicitor, and a fireman.” And that is the history of Mr. Fox Feature, a busy fellow, born in a studio and buried on a garbage dump. A recent Sun photograph showed the last big Fox blaze in Auckland, when 600,000 feet of smiles, heart-throbs, thrills, problems, puzzles, news items, cartoons, fashion displays, stunts, excitements, frowns and tears just disappeared in acrid, swirling smoke.