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| Motion Picture News, 04-December-1920 |
The Chorus Girl's Romance, starring Viola Dara was based on F Scott Fitzgerald's' short story "Head and Shoulders."
Cops Oppose Schmidt's Animated Cut-out
Exploitation and Police Court Publicity Vie With Each
Other in Putting Over " A Chorus Girl's Romance "
THIS is the true and touching "drama " (which came near being a melodrama) of a cut-out which
didn't shimmy. It has all the elements of drama — a hero whose motives are questioned, who is
denounced, and arrested, of the police force, whose duty, according to the latest " crook-drama," is to
hound a man back into jail as fast as he gets out. And for a heroine, it has a beautiful life-size
cut-out of Viola Dana.
To begin at the beginning, Manager George Schmidt, of the Alamo No. 2, Atlanta, booked " The Chorus-Girl's
Romance," and, looking over the campaign book for an effective idea for exploitation,
happened on the stunt that tells of an animated cut-out. The idea struck his fancy,
and he made all the necessary arrangements.
A week before the picture opened for a three-day run at his theatre, a huge
banner appeared across the front of his theatre — jade-green letters on a buff
background — reading, " Do Nice Girls Shimmy? Viola Dana will tell you." The
"teaser" screen-campaign is always a part of Mr. Schmidt's exploitation stunts, and
this one began a week ahead of the picture. Each day the slide was changed, and
during the week, such slides as "Could She Shimmy? Oh, Boy! A maple leaf in
an October gale had nothing on Marcia Meadows!" "Gilda Grey, shimmy-art-
ist, had her shoulders insured for fifty-thousand dollars! Some shoulders, we'll
say! But she had nothing on Marcia Meadows!" "Could she shake a wicked
shoulder? Oh, lady, lady! You tell 'em, standing room — I'm reserved" created
interest in the picture.
On Sunday morning, the animated cutout was rigged up in front of the theatre.
It was a cut-out of " Marcia Meadows" seated, with her knees crossed. A second
part of shoulders cut out and mounted was hung just an inch in front of the main
cut-out, and these shoulders, by an electrical device, "shimmied " most
convincingly. This cut-out, with a lobby-frame full of interesting photographs from the
picture, held up traffic for more than an hour Sunday afternoon. The crowd grew
and grew — until finally the fat and good-natured "traffic cop" on the corner below
the theatre came up to investigate — and remained to admire. He went back to his
post, quite lenient with the people who continued to make his job unpleasant.
But noon on Monday brought trouble, in the person of a very important Captain of
Police, who took one look at Marcia, and gave Mr. Schmidt five minutes to take her
off the sidewalk. Mr. Schmidt protested, belligerently, which resulted in a trip to the
police-station, where he was advised to explain it to the Chief.
Which he did. There were two or three newspaper reporters at the station when
Mr. Schmidt arrived, but he was too angry to notice them. They, bored with an
unusually dull Monday, when nobody had taken poison by mistake, or jumped out of
a fourteenth story window, listened to the heated argument between him and the
Chief with much enjoyment.
Early in the spring, in a laudable effort to get a great many undesirables out of
Atlanta, a sort of "Purity Squad " had been organized. During the hectic enthusiasm
resultant from their first activities, they had passed a number of more or less
trivial laws over which the most innocent of citizens find themselves tripping. One
of these laws had to do with " shimmy-dancing," and the law had been framed
and aided through by the Chief himself. So what the crimson cloth is to the
celebrated bull, so is the bare mention of the hated word "shimmy" to the Chief.
The end of the argument, when Mr. Schmidt grew too angry to care for fines,
and the Chief lost his temper so far he forgot to impose any, the Chief agreed to go
up and see the picture and the cut-out. The reporters, half a dozen "smaller fry"
policemen and the self-important captain went along. They looked at the picture
and the Chief agreed that there was nothing wrong with it — "though it did seem
unnecessary to have all that shimmy-dancing in it" he added, and stuck to the
decision in spite of all arguments.
But when he saw the cut-out and watched it "dance " — well, when the sulphuric
atmosphere cleared a little, he could be heard agitatedly warning Mr.
Schmidt that he would fine him one hundred dollars for every five minutes "the
thing operated" and would, if opposed, close the theatre. So, borne down by
weight of superior numbers, and still too mad to permit himself to talk, Mr. Schmidt
agreed. He was told, grudgingly, that the cut-out might remain in the lobby,
provided there was no further movement. He went away, content — and, an hour later, a
sign was fastened across the bottom of the cut-out — a sign which told its own story —
"Censored."
The morning paper, and the noon editions of the two extras treated the whole
affair with a great deal of what Mr. Schmidt is morosely convinced was
ill-placed humor — but the Alamo No. 2 was packed to the doors for every performance
from then on — and such remarks as, "Why, I don't see anything wrong about
that picture !" "Why should the police object to it?" and so on indicate the source
of their enthusiasm.
Despite the fact that it was good publicity, Mr. Schmidt is very, very sore!
For he has been accused of some things which make him fighting mad — and there's
nobody he can fight !
