For years the British firn trade have been questioning whether Metro-Goldwyn, the lion of Hollywood production, would ever undertake production, on a large scale, in England, The idea was first mooted ten years ago, when Sam Eckman, now a prominent figure in the British film trade, came to England to manage the London end of Metro-Goldwyn's renting business. Mr. Eckman urged it continuously, fought for again and again nearly got it. The late Irving Thalberg, on his several visits to England, was fired by the idea. Louis B, Mayer, American Chief of Metro-Goldwyn, frequently entertained it, At the time of the production of "David Copperfield" the idea missed, only by the slightest margin, becoming a fact.
One reason and another, however, always stood in the way. Thalberg was busy in Hollywood. Mayer was occupied with world.markets. Eckman bad his renting interests to concern him. There was a doubt whether the big money-making stars of Hollywood could be spared to work so far away from the jurisdiction of the "front office." The right producer was not to be found in England. The moment had not come, nor had it thrown up the man.
With the "new deal" brought about in British film politics last year by financial failure and legal readjustment, it was obvious that the big American corpaties would be forced to take their British markets seriously. British pictures, and reputable British pictures, would have to be made, and it was unthinkable that the most alert of American companies woüld be backward in making them.
Round about last Christmas the new British Metro-Goldwyn production company was formed, and a programme of star pictures roughly scheduled. Even soi there was scepticism in certain quarters of the British trade. Metro-Goldwyn, they said, would never risk their headliners in England. We should get second-rate stars, players on the down-grade, names no longer in demand in Hollywood. With the engagement of Robert Taylor at the very peak of his box-office popularity—fresh from his" appearance with Garbo ín "Camille, and good for the approval of at least 90 per cent. of the cinemas' customers—these doubts are finally resolved.
Tribute to Balcon it is impossible to believe that Metro-Goldwyn, working with a star of Robert Taylor's importance, will not throw the whole weight of their world, resources behind this new British undertaking. The technical men, the executives, the players, in all the other British studios have sensed it. Wherever you go to-day in English film circles the word is to wait and watch Metro-Goldwyn.
Paramount in importance is the presence, as production chief, of Michael Balcon, an Englishman whom the English trade respects and believes in. For fifteen years or more Mr. Balcon has been working, inch by inch, for the better status of British pictures. His quiet control of the Shepherd's Bush studios accounted in no small way for the golden days of Gaumont-British.
For his first Metro-Goldwyn picture Mr. Balcon went to Hollywood and engaged Robert Taylor, Maureen O'Sullivan, and Lionel Barrymore. With Jack Conway, one of Metro's crack men, as director. For later productions he has pencilled in the names of Clark Gable and James Stewart.
With Mr. Balcon's native credit backed by Metro-Goldwyn's world resources, British production seems set for its much-needed fillip, Meanwhile, in all the passionate hysteria of Robert Taylor's arrival in England, it is a pleasure to be able to detach from the star's deserved bouquets a leat or two of laurel for a worker of our own.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.