The Art of the Cinematographer

by Leonard Maltin

  LM: Which did you like better, the three-strip Technicolor of those days, or the later color?

  ROSSON: Oh, the latter. At that time the three-strip had just come into its own, because the color was so gorgeous. I think all pictures should be in color.

  LM: Don’t you think there are some subjects that lend themselves better to black and white?

  ROSSON: There are subjects that may lend themselves to black and white, but put them in color, and see if they’re not better, or equally as good. I think they will be better. In this day and age—in this very room we’re sitting in—there’s nothing but color. Everything is color, therefore you don’t even think about it. Life is color.

  LM: Some people feel that the old three-strip color was unnatural, however, and that it was too vivid, and therefore not realistic.

  ROSSON: Certain processes would amplify color out of all degrees of naturalness. But there again, I’ll go back to the phrase I used earlier—I tried to control color. I looked upon color as another actor. When an actor walks on the stage, the director doesn’t let him run roughshod all over the place. I think the cameraman who uses color can control it.

  LM: Could you make adjustments for color when you timed the different color separations in the lab?

  ROSSON: The Technicolor people controlled their end of the business, the developing of the film, one hundred percent. But if by chance I had attempted to do something that would enter into their developing of the film, that was against what they were doing, I’m sure they would have argued it.

  LM: Then you weren’t involved in the processing of the film?

  ROSSON: Not at all, not after it left the stage.

  LM: Let’s go back to another picture of yours, MADAM SATAN, an unusual picture, to say the least.

  ROSSON: What a fantastic picture. Mr. DeMille did that; I went to MGM studio at the request of Mr. DeMille. I did the remake of his first picture, THE SQUAW MAN.

  LM: Do you remember anything about photographing the zeppelin?

  ROSSON: That was a fantastic thing; originally, the floor was going to be a sheet of glass. We were going to photograph inside the zeppelin, and because the floor was glass, you would see the lights of the city below. But that’s one of the joys of the picture business—the dream pictures you encounter.

  LM: What were your feelings about DeMille?

  ROSSON: I learned more from Mr. DeMille than from any other human being I’ve known. I boast of the fact that we were very close friends.

  LM: Having started in the film business when everything was as you saw it on the screen, more or less, what were your feelings about rear projection and other devices that came into widespread use in the 30s?

  ROSSON: I think process screening, the art of process screening, is one of the great things that has come to the motion picture business. Speaking of process work as applied to camerawork, I think it is a fantastic aid to the cameraman.

  LM: Don’t you think, though, that you sometimes sacrifice atmosphere when you use process work?

  ROSSON: I would be inclined to say no, because, for instance, I’ve never been to the North Pole, but I can put the North Pole on the motion picture screen. I think that what you can do with that greatly overcomes the non-usage of it. I think you can get fantastic results with back projection.

  LM: You worked with W. S. Van Dyke at this time; was his reputation as a rapid-fire director accurate?

  ROSSON: Woody Van Dyke was a very interesting person; I had the great pleasure of working on numerous pictures with him. He had a style that he exercised practically all the time. His thinking, as I recall it, was to emphasize certain things in a picture. In other words, the girl in his picture had to look beautiful. So Van would permit you as a cameraman as much time as needed, within reason, to get a good result of the girl. If I was going to make a photograph of a piece of newspaper that had to be lying on that table, he wanted me to photograph that newspaper in one second, or half a second if possible, but I could take hours with the girl. So I would say that all these stories you heard about Van Dyke as a one-take, hurry-up man—granted he wanted you to hurry up, on that newspaper , but he never hurried me up on the girl. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

  Rosson (left) and director King Vidor (right) prepare to shoot a scene for DUEL IN THE SUN (1946).

  LM: One of the first pictures you did with him was TARZAN THE APE MAN, which was quite an elaborate picture.

  ROSSON: Oh yes. They had that wonderful trio, the Flying Cadonas, and they built trapezes which became part of the set. We did a lot of the flying stuff out near Lake Sherwood.

  LM: Do you think that there was a “studio look” to certain films? Was there an MGM look?

  ROSSON: All studios prided themselves on their work, and I was fortunate enough to be at the MGM studio when they had an unbelievable number of actors and actresses; they had half a dozen cameramen who were considered the finest in their profession—patting myself on the back a little bit with that statement. And nothing was released until it was right. So there was a great esprit de corps in the work at the MGM studios; we all stood half an inch taller than our normal height due to the fact that we were a little swell-headed about our work. I know I was, very definitely. Maybe the MGM pictures did have a look that other studios did not have, maybe it was due to the photography. I’m not privileged to say that is so, but I do know that the spirit was such that we were proud to be at MGM.

  LM: You certainly worked on the top pictures at MGM during your stay there. How did you handle the color in THE WIZARD OF oz?

  ROSSON: It was just a matter of controlling color, again.

  LM: But it was such a tremendous color-oriented production; it must have made things more difficult for you.

  ROSSON: No, not really.

  LM: Was it your idea to start the picture in black and white, and switch to color when the setting moved to Oz?

  ROSSON: I don’t really recall whose idea that was.

  LM: It was certainly copied enough times in later fantasy films. What about shooting a B picture at MGM like the DR. KILDARE films: could you still provide the traditional studio polish working on a lower-budget picture?

  ROSSON: Naturally, you didn’t have as much time to spend on one of the DR. KILDARE films, but I remember Mr. Mayer saying to me, “If it’s an MGM film, it has to look like an MGM film,” regardless of the fact that it was officially a B picture.

  LM: When you went to England to film THE GHOST GOES WEST, did you find any great difference in filmmaking technique?

  ROSSON: No, I would say that it was essentially the same as here.

  LM: What about working with René Clair?

  ROSSON: He was a marvelous man, a wonderful man to be around.

  LM: When you went to work on DUEL IN THE SUN, did you work with William Dieterle or King Vidor?

  ROSSON: I worked with King Vidor . . . I don’t remember working at all with William Dieterle.

  LM: Were you subject to any of David Selznick’s memos as to how you should photograph Jennifer Jones?

  ROSSON: No comment (laughing) . . .

  LM: When you got into CinemaScope in the 1950s, did you have to reorient your way of thinking for shooting a film?

  ROSSON: When you are working in CinemaScope you have to think in CinemaScope terms, because the whole idea of the size of the screen is foreign to my entire world . . . look around at any painting here, you won’t see that size. But I did enjoy working in it, because if you have a Western, you automatically think in terms of the Grand Tetons, the great American desert—well, CinemaScope was half again as big as what we had been using.

  LM: What about the problems, though, like faces distorting when you did close-ups, and horizons tending to curve upward?

  ROSSON: CinemaScope had so many bastardized things in it, you resented it at first. I like honesty, I believe in the truth, and CinemaScope was anti-truth. But I loved the areas you could work in.

  LM: The first CinemaScope lenses w
eren’t supposed to be too good on definition . . .

  ROSSON: They weren’t too good on anything. You had to overcome an awful lot of things.

  LM: Did you ever work in Panavision? It’s supposed to be better for a lot of these problems.

  ROSSON: Yes, I think Panavision is very fine.

  LM: What about Vista Vision?

  ROSSON: They all had so many things in them that were both honest and dishonest; in talking about them you’re trying to explain the honesty against the dishonesty.

  LM: Did you ever want to direct?

  ROSSON: Yes.

  LM: Did you?

  ROSSON: No.

  LM: Any particular reason?

  ROSSON: Yes, I wasn’t given the opportunity. I asked for it, and Eddie Mannix, of whom I spoke before, gave me a very flattering answer. He said, “You’re too good a cameraman; you’ll never direct. Not here, anyway.”

  LM: What was the most recent film you’ve done?

  ROSSON: I didn’t work for ten or twelve years, and then I went back and did a picture for Paramount, with John Wayne, called EL DORADO, with Howard Hawks. Howard’s an old pal of mine, and he said, “Oh come on, come back,” and I said, “You don’t want me,” and he said, “Yes I do.” So I went back, and I was out of my mind I ever quit.

  LM: Why did you stop?

  Rosson at the Los Angeles County Museum in 1970.

  ROSSON: Well, I’m pretty old—I’m seventy-five years old now.

  LM: Do you think you’ll be doing more work in the future?

  ROSSON: No, I don’t honestly believe so.

  LM: How about television? Have you ever done any TV work?

  ROSSON: Yes, but I don’t choose to do television. I’m very grateful and thankful that television came in, because it’s put so many of my pals to work, but I do not like it. Please don’t get the wrong idea about me—I’m very proud of my work. And I’ve found very few cameramen who have made television pictures who say they are proud of their work. I do not choose to work—and I don’t have any misconception about how “great” I was—where I wouldn’t feel that way. I’ve been very fortunate, I made some very good investments, so I don’t think anyone will ever have to throw a benefit for me.

  LM: But if the right opportunity would come along . . .

  ROSSON: If the opportunity comes, I honestly don’t think I would work, unless it was like EL DORADO. I photographed that because Wayne and Hawks did that . . . I would do anything for Howard Hawks, and I enjoyed doing it. It was fun.

  LM: Do you think that was the secret of the great films we’ve been talking about?

  ROSSON: Yes, a group falling together and thinking together and praying together, and you wanted one result—a good picture. And you wanted to be mixed up in it.

  THE FILMS OF HAL ROSSON

  Once more, this is an attempt at a complete filmography from the starting point of 1920. Rosson had been photographing films for several years prior to this, but research as to titles has been fruitless. It is hoped that all of his feature films since this date are included below, however.

  THE CINEMA MURDER—Paramount 1920—George D. Baker

  POLLY OF THE STORM COUNTRY—First National 1920—Arthur Rosson

  HELIOTROPE—Paramount 1920—George D. Baker

  BURIED TREASURE—Paramount 1921—George D. Baker

  EVERYTHING FOR SALE—Paramount 1921—Frank O‘Connor

  A VIRGINIA COURTSHIP—Paramount 1921—Frank O’Connor

  THE CRADLE—Paramount 1922—Paul Powell

  FOR THE DEFENSE—Paramount 1922—Paul Powell

  A HOMESPUN VAMP—Paramount 1922—Frank O‘Connor

  THROUGH A GLASS WINDOW—Paramount 1922—Maurice Campbell

  DARK SECRETS—Paramount 1923—Victor Fleming

  GLIMPSES OF THE MOON—Paramount 1923—Allan Dwan

  GARRISON’S FINISH—Paramount 1923—Arthur Rosson

  LAWFUL LARCENY—Paramount 1923—Allan Dwan

  ZAZA—Paramount 1923—Allan Dwan

  A SOCIETY SCANDAL—Paramount 1924—Allan Dwan

  MANHANDLED—Paramount 1924—Allan Dwan

  STORY WITHOUT A NAME—Paramount 1924—Irving Willat

  MANHATTAN—Paramount 1924—R. H. Burnside

  A MAN MUST LIVE—Paramount 1925—Paul Sloane

  Too MANY KISSES—Paramount 1925—Paul Sloane

  THE LITTLE FRENCH GIRL—Paramount 1925—Herbert Brenon

  THE STREET OF FORGOTTEN MEN—Paramount 1925 —Herbert Brenon

  CLASSIFIED—First National 1925—Alfred Santell

  INFATUATION—First National 1926—Irving Cummings

  UP IN MABEL’S ROOM—Producer’s Distributing Cor-portation (PDC) 1926—E. Mason Hopper—Collaboration with Alex Phillips

  ALMOST A LADY-PDC 1926—E. Mason Hopper

  FOR WIVES ONLY—PDC 1926—Victor Heerman

  MAN BAIT—PDC 1926—Donald Crisp

  JIM THE CONQUEROR—PDC 1927—George B. Seitz

  GETTING GERTIE’S GARTER—PDC 1927—E. Mason Hopper

  ROUGH HOUSE ROSIE-Paramount 1927—Prank Strayer—Collaboration with James Murray

  EVENING CLOTHES-Paramount 1927—Luther Reed

  SERVICE FOR LADIES—Paramount 1927—Harry D’Arrast

  A GENTLEMAN OF PARIS—Paramount 1927—Harry D‘Arrast

  OPEN RANGE—Paramount 1927—Clifford S. Smith

  QUICKSANDS—Paramount 1927—Jack Conway—Independently made in 1923 and supposedly released then, this film, produced and written by Howard Hawks, reappeared in 1927 as a Paramount film—Collaboration with Glen MacWilliams

  GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES—Paramount 1928—Mal St. Clair

  DRAG NET—Paramount 1928—Josef von Sternberg

  SAWDUST PARADISE—Paramount 1928—Luther Reed

  THE DOCKS OF NEW YORK—Paramount 1928—Josef von Sternberg

  THREE WEEKENDS—Paramount 1928—Clarence Badger

  ABIE’S IRISH ROSE—Paramount 1929—Victor Fleming

  THE CASE OF LENA SMITH—Paramount 1929—Josef von Sternberg

  FAR CALL—Fox 1929—AHan Dwan

  TRENT’S LAST CASE—Fox 1929—Howard Hawks

  FROZEN JUSTICE—Fox 1929—Allan Dwan

  SOUTH SEA ROSE—Fox 1929—Allan Dwan

  HELLO, SISTER—Sono Art 1930—Walter Lang

  THIS MAD WORLD—MGM 1930—William DeMille

  MADAM SATAN—MGM 1930—Cecil B. DeMille

  PASSION FLOWER—MGM 1930—William DeMille

  MEN CALL IT LOVE—MGM 1931—Edgar Selwyn

  PRODIGAL—MGM 1931—Harry Pollard

  THE SQUAW MAN—MGM 1931—Cecil B. DeMille

  SON OF INDIA—MGM 1931—Jacques Feyder

  SPORTING BLOOD—MGM 1931—Charles Brabin

  CUBAN LOVE SONG—MGM 1931—W. S. Van Dyke

  TARZAN THE APE MAN—MGM 1932—W. S. Van Dyke

  ARE YOU LISTENING—MGM 1932—Harry Beaumont

  WHEN A FELLER NEEDS A FRIEND—MGM 1932—Harry Pollard

  DOWNSTAIRS—MGM 1932—Monta Bell

  RED-HEADED WOMAN—MGM 1932—Jack Conway

  KONGO—MGM 1932—William Cowan

  RED DUST—MGM 1932—Victor Fleming

  HELL BELOW—MGM 1933—Jack Conway

  THE BARBARIAN—MGM 1933—Sam Wood

  HOLD YOUR MAN—MGM 1933—Sam Wood

  TURN BACK THE CLOCK—MGM 1933—Edgar Selwyn

  PENTHOUSE—MGM 1933—W. S. Van Dyke

  BOMBSHELL—MGM 1933—Victor Fleming—Collaboration with Chester Lyons

  THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE—MGM 1934—William K. Howard—Sequence filmed in Technicolor

  THIS SIDE OF HEAVEN—MGM 1934—William K. Howard

  TREASURE ISLAND—MGM 1934—Victor Fleming

  THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL—UA 1935—Harold Young