with the scene as you write it--so far as
the actual background is concerned. Do not demand that the struggle
between the sheriff and the leader of the cattle rustlers must take
place upon just such and such a kind of precipice. You may be certain
that if the situation is a strong one the producer will spare neither
time nor pains to secure the most perfect setting it is possible for
him to obtain.

The moving picture camera, it is well to remember, is of no light
weight when set up on its massive tripod. The cameraman cannot place
it in position to take all the pictures that you might be able to take
with a snap-shot camera held between the hands. The body of the
camera, without the tripod, may be placed upon the overhead beams in a
studio in order to get some novel scenic effect below; or a special
platform may be built for camera and operator when the director is
determined to get a scene on the side of a cliff, where no neighboring
cliff or rocky platform was furnished by nature; but when the director
goes to such pains as these to obtain an effect there is a reason, and
generally the reason is an unusually strong story that justifies
special effort on the part of all concerned in its production.

Mr. William E. Fildew, one of the foremost screen cameramen, long
associated with director William Christy Cabanne, says in _The Moving
Picture World_:

"As to what constitutes the greatest difficulty in the making of
motion pictures, I should reply the insecurity of the tripod in the
making of outdoor scenes. Exteriors require the greatest amount of
attention from the cameraman because of the varying light and shade
and the mobility of the camera itself and its liability to accident.
The location chosen by the expert may be all that is desired, and
there may be a whole lot of trained performers, but you can't get a
trained camera. The tripod must be nursed like a contrary child. It
_must_ be firmly set." Mr. Fildew speaks of the difficulty he had, on
one occasion, when he was obliged to follow the progress of an express
train while operating his camera from an aeroplane, they being
constantly buffeted by pockets of wind, while flying for many miles at
a low altitude in order to keep within the desired focus. He cites
another case, when he was photographing the sea scenes for the Fine
Arts picture, "Daphne and the Pirates," the waters outside San
Francisco Bay being chosen for the locale. A pirate ship crew was to
boa