Monday, Oct. 28, 1940
Standing Committee
In 1936, the average Hollywood extra--forgotten man of an industry famed for its riches--worked eleven days, earned a total of $105.63 in twelve months. By 1939 his working days were more than doubled, his earnings more than tripled, but he was still on a starvation income. Two years ago, the industry belatedly realized the social problem presented by this underpaid army of 15,000 who have been an essential to movie making since the first director photographed the first crowd. At a loss for an answer, the producers met with the Screen Actors Guild, appointed a committee to study the dilemma.
Under the present arrangement, all the major studios obtain their extras through Central Casting Corporation, a nonprofit, cooperative employment agency run by the Association of Motion Picture Producers. There almost 10,000 extras are registered, known by their age, sex, length of beard, type of wardrobe. When David Selznick needs a few thousand Confederate soldiers, his casting department sends an order to Central by teletype. It is given to one of the six casters who sit in a large noisy room listening to the names of the extras broadcast over a loudspeaker as they call in for work.
This system is open to abuse if the $37.50-a-week casters relax their ethics. Frequent have been the charges of corruption in Central: that extras buttonholed casters on the street, slipped them a few dollars; that they mowed casters' lawns; that they presented casters with money orders on Hollywood stores; that they sent their clothes to be cleaned at specified cleaners with currency deposited in specified pockets. Year ago these charges were taken up by the Hollywood Reporter, which revealed that a local detective agency had been hired by the Screen Actors Guild to ferret out any misdemeanors. No report was ever made public by the Guild, but several months later Central had a new manager in blond, pipe-smoking Howard Philbrick, a former G-man who had made a name for himself in California with an investigation of graft in the State Legislature. Philbrick quietly set up a watchdog system over his underlings, announced he would make no radical changes in Central's methods until the Standing Committee's report came through.
Last week it did. Its ruddy, socialite chairman, Los Angeles corporation specialist Stewart McKee, announced two principal uncontentious proposals as a starter:
>> Preferential hiring for extras who had worked more than ten days during the previous year, thus eliminating by implication more than 5,000 extras who work less than eleven days during a year, and earn an average of only $34 apiece.
>> That all studios, including minor ones which now locate their own extras, be required to use Central.
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