Volume III: Biographies Volume III: Biographies
Thanhouser Career Synopsis: In 1914 Harold MacGrath wrote the novel from which The Million Dollar Mystery was derived. Later, he worked on the scenario with Lloyd F. Lonergan. He also expanded for newspaper installments the 1914-1915 Thanhouser serial, Zudora.
Biographical Notes: Harold MacGrath was born in Syracuse, New York on September 4, 1871. He was a newspaper reporter when he wrote his first successful novel, Arms and the Woman. Later, he produced The Puppet Crown, The Goose Girl, The Man on the Box, and other stories, a number of which were dramatized on the stage and screen. An interview printed in the Pittsburgh Leader, September 8, 1911, quoted MacGrath as saying he wrote 70,000 words per year and had no trouble collecting $30,000 for a good story. He had no pretentions of grandeur and noted: "The high-brow critics don't take my work seriously. I am the last one to want 'em to. I have no message to deliver, and I don't believe trying to teach or reform through fiction. If I can amuse a tired man for an hour or two or cheer up a worried woman by my yarns, I have accomplished all I have set out to do." Investing the profits of his writing, MacGrath became a world traveler, a pursuit he followed for many years.
In 1913 he wrote The Adventures of Kathlyn, which was serialized by The Chicago Tribune and other papers, and which was released as a serial movie by the Selig Polyscope Company, with the first instalment making its debut on December 29, 1913. Building on the great success of Kathlyn, he was commissioned to novelize for newspaper syndication a story which Thanhouser serialized for the screen, The Million Dollar Mystery. He also acted as an editor of Lonergan's scenario and as an advisor to the film.
An article and a separate advertisement in the May 9, 1914 issue of Reel Life show MacGrath and Lonergan together as "coadjutors" of the serial, with the text noting: "The film presentation of the great Thanhouser serial, The Million Dollar Mystery, is a result of that most remarkable of all human combinations, a great author and a great scenario writer. It is remarkable if for nothing else that it is so rare. For it is difficult thing to get two well-developed individualities in any profession or art so in harmony that value accrues from the partnership. Particularly true is this in literary pursuits. The book, play, or scenario written by two authors is usually a hodge-podge from start to finish, representing the best work of neither and the worst work of both. Harold MacGrath and Lloyd Lonergan have proved and are proving themselves exceptions to this rule...."
A 1914 Interview: The Baltimore American, July 19, 1914, carried an interview conducted by "Mae Tinee": "New Rochelle, N.Y. - (Special Correspondent). - Ever since reading Harold MacGrath's The Puppet Crown - a feat which I accomplished when I was very young. I assure you - I have been dying to meet him. So when, one bright day, it became noised about the Thanhouser studio that he was on his way to New Rochelle to have his picture taken in front of the House of Mystery I immediately sat up, swallowed excitedly, and said to myself out loud:
"'Do dreams come true? They do, they do; I'll interview Harold MacGrath!' And I skidded over to where the president of the company, Mr. Hite, stood talking with some property men and waited on one foot until he should finish. Finally, his business was attended to, and he turned to me with a smile. 'I'd like awfully,' I told him, 'to have a chat with Mr. Harold MacGrath.' (That doesn't rhyme does it? I had an idea it did before I tried it.)
"'Well,' he answered, 'I don't know of any particular objection in the way. Mr. MacGrath, his wife, and brother will be here on the mm-mm-mm train and they will probably remain for the afternoon. You can come with us over to the House of Mystery, and after the pictures have been taken I'll arrange to grant your wish.' I thanked him politely and departed for mine hotel, where I powdered my nose, pinned on a rose - har! har! - and in various other ways tried enthusiastically to make myself fit for presentation to the famous novelist, praying fervently the while that nothing would happen to the train that was bearing him toward me. Nothing did.
"No sooner had I completed my preparations that the phone rang and Mr. Hite informed me that nothing had; that the party had arrived at the studio and was I ready to go. I hurriedly said I was and dashed across the street to the studio, in front of which were gathered three automobiles and a bunch of people, including officials of the company, Harold MacGrath, Mrs. MacGrath, and Brother MacGrath, whose first name I did not catch. (No? Well, probably not.) Mr. Hite presented me to the MacGrath family, and then said to the author: 'This young lady is extremely anxious to have a talk with you.' Mr. MacGrath adjusted a little something over his ear and smiled at me a trifle anxiously.
"'Why,' he said, 'I'd be glad - only - well, you see, I am about to have my picture taken and I'm nervous about it. A moving picture, they tell me, I have to ride and talk and all instead of keeping still as one usually does when one is photographed. I declare I can think of nothing else at the present time.'
"'Oh,' I assured him. 'I don't mean now. Later. After the agony is over. Will that be all right?'
"'Oh, yes,' he said with a sigh of relief, and we mounted the automobile. Why, he's slender and not tall. He told me confidentially on the way over to the house that they'd have to take front views of him or no one would know he was there. He said drily: 'Many times I have been mistaken for a crack - and it's most embarrassing. They say to me, looking at a group picture: 'Why, we thought you were here, Harold!' I say: 'Why - I am!' and I point me out. Then they say they thought it was a crack.'
"'They,' I said indignantly, 'should be ashamed of themselves! Here we are, Mr. MacGrath. Isn't it a perfectly scrumptious place!' Our car and the other cars that were right behind us stopped and we all piled out and walked up the wide, graveled drive to the house. Florence LaBadie was there, radiant in a new rose colored summer suit and hat. Marguerite Snow and black and white, as befits a 'villainess,' slouched around and made herself popular with everybody as is her way. There was Lila Chester, big, blonde and radiant; Jimmy Cruze, Sidney Bracy, Mae Tinee, and O! a lot of other important people. Lloyd Lonergan was much in evidence and the picture was directed by Eugene Moore, who, with his white hair and glasses, has a prosperously reverential look. No, he's not at all, I can tell you that!
"Behind us all the House of Mystery loomed up mysteriously, as it should. To my sometimes all too fervid imagination it presented even in the sunshine of that day a strange and uncanny appearance. It took unto itself a sort of argue eyed, deep caverried personality, as it were, as of some sphinx-y oracle that would say, had the gods given unto it the power of speech: "G-r-r-r-r-owl! The things I have seen! The things I have heard! The things I could tell - if I could! Its windows were the huge, unblinking eyes of it, yellow from the sun in them. Its mouths were the yawning doors, and the broad porches were its haunches. (I'm getting so spooky I'm beginning to scare myself, so I reckon I'd better turn my attention to something else.)
"Marguerite Snow came up to me and looked at me solemnly. 'A thought!' she muttered. 'It has a thought! What is it?' I grabbed her by the hand. 'Let's run around back and see if it has eyes there!' I exclaimed, cryptically. I grabbed her hand and we started on a run for the rear of the house - if you could call it a run. You know how much running a girl can do these days in what she calls skirts!
"'Wha'dye mean 'eyes'?' she asked breathlessly as we panted at last in the back yard and sank down on a little stone seat with bushes all around it. I shook my head. 'Nothing,' I told her. 'Just thinking of something else. What do you think of this for a mystery set, anyhow?'
"'Think!' Miss Snow was still breathless. 'Think! I don't think. I know, it's the greatest little mystery hang-out in the world. It's in a class by itself. No chance for competition. What in the world do you suppose ever made Francis Wilson sell it?'
"'If he had been in the moving picture business he never would have, of course,' I said, thoughtfully. 'But, being a 'legit,' money looked better to him than just a house, no matter what its spooky possibilities might be. As a matter of fact, I don't suppose he even realized that it even had spooky possibilities. Do you?'
"'Naw!' Peggy Snow spoke with conviction. Subtleties are always lost on the 'legitimates.' Not knocking, you understand, but one does have to be educated up to pictures.'
"A rose-pink cloud blew around the corner. 'Oh, here you are!' Florence LaBadie said. 'We've been looking everywhere for you, Peggy. You know we came here to work; this isn't a garden fête, you know. Mr. Moore is having a fit out in front and - '
"'Hevings!' Miss Snow jumped up and we took up our kangaroo trot toward the front of the house, where we found Mr. Moore polishing his glasses and stating emphatically that he 'couldn't imagine,' and he was 'sure he'd seen,' and, O, a lot of things, all of which had to do with the disappearance of Miss Snow. It didn't count. Unless one's a 'movi-er' one doesn't [word unclear] much these days, do you think so? But Peggy whispered a pair of sweet nothings into his ear and in a minute he was beaming on all of us, and work commenced.
"You understand the relative position Mr. Lonergan and Harold MacGrath occupy, don't you? Scenario - Lonergan. Story from scenario - Harold MacGrath. One of the cars had come up, and Mr. MacGrath, having been let out, was put back in, together with several other people. The car backed down the drive a little way and Jimmy Cruze and Sidney Bracy were instructed by the director to walk carelessly down the walk from the porch.
"'Swing your cane, Jimmy, and betray deep interest - deep and smiling interest - in what Sid is saying. As you come around that clump of bushes the car drives up and you extend welcoming hands to Mr. MacGrath and those with him.'
"Mr. MacGrath leaned out of the car, calling anxiously: 'Well, what do I do? What do I do?' The director yelled back: 'What I tell you - when I tell you. All right, Jim and Sid.' Down the walk came the two handsome actors, one talking eagerly, the other betraying interest - deep and smiling interest - in what he was saying. At a motion of the director's hand the car bearing Mr. MacGrath pulled up. The author moistened his lips and turned pale. (Believe me, I sympathized with him, for I know what it is !) The director called: 'Open the door, MacGrath, and step out, smiling and nodding and saying anything you please. What's the matter?'
"'The door - ' Mr. MacGrath said, turning an agonized face in our direction. 'It - it - won't open. Ah, there, I have it. I step out? Yes, yes, I see. But - ' he paused.
"'Yes?'
"'It is not a side view you are taking of me?' Mrs. MacGrath turned to me and we both giggled. The director gave us an awful glance. 'Why, not exactly - three-quarter view,' he said. The author nodded. 'All right,' he said. 'Only it must not be side.'
"Mr. Moore was curious. You couldn't blame the man. He looked first at the determined Mr. MacGrath and then at the giggling Mrs. MacGrath and myself. He came toward us. 'What's the joke?' he asked pleasantly. 'Mayn't I be in on it?'
"We glanced at Mr. MacGrath. He was glowering at us. 'Not on your life!' the glowerer said. Mrs. MacGrath and I said in the same breath: 'Oh, it isn't a joke!' And Mrs. MacGrath added feebly: 'It's just a funny story I heard in Europe.'
"'Oh!' Mr. Moore remarked dubiously. 'O!' And he walked away again. Whereupon Mr. MacGrath smiled approvingly upon us and turned three-quarter view again. Well, they worked over the picture for a long time and finally got it. Then other automobiles came up, each with its load of smiling faces and extended hands. Mr. MacGrath, his stunt accomplished, came over to where I stood with his family, mopping his brow. 'Whew!' he said, 'I never was so nervous in my life. Now, Miss Tinee, what can I do for you?'
"'I said immediately: 'Tell me how it feels to be a 'movie' actor.' He shook his head and his mustache quivered. 'I couldn't and be a gentleman,' he said, 'but it feels like never again, I can tell you that. What do you suppose I'll look like anyway?'
"'Perfectly fine,' I assured him. 'You know this is only to be used as a sort of prologue, introducing the principals. It's not the real picture.'
"'Oh,' he said, and I thought there was just a little bit of disappointment in that 'Oh.' He told me then that he had been called back from Italy to write the story and said it was lucky the message found him in good humor or he never would have done it. I asked him how he happened to become a novelist and he said that he had started his writing career by being a professional humorist and that looking about for something easier he bethought him of the Elysium fields of novelism. (Is that the way to spell Elysium?) (Yes. But Elysium's not quite the word. But you get away with so much stuff that we'll let it go at that. - Ed.) And the way he bethought was he liked to tell stories and somebody asked him why he didn't go ahead and write 'em. 'I will!' he said, and promptly sat down and wrote Arms of the Woman, which was as promptly accepted by some syndicate. And so he got his start.
"Everything he writes he goes over three times. First, just a rough pencil sketch. Then, an elaboration of the sketch also in pencil. Then, the typewritten copy. 'You surely dictate, don't you?' I asked him. He threw up his hands. 'I couldn't dictate to save my life!' he exclaimed. 'Could you?'
"I smiled, 'I think,' I said, 'that I could. With me it's a question of having no one to provide a stenographer.'
"'Well,' Mr. MacGrath said, 'I wish I could - but I can't, so I suppose I'll have to grind things out for the rest of my natural life.'
"'I suppose,' I said, 'that by this time you are awfully interested in 'movies.' Before he had a chance to answer Mr. Hite came up and said that if they were to get to New York in time for some train they must leave. As we got in the machine he remembered my question and answered it. 'I'm afraid,' he said, 'that I'm going to be - awfully!'
"I bet he ends up by becoming an actor!"
Zudora and Later: Harold MacGrath subsequently novelized Dr. Daniel Carson Goodman's scenario for Thanhouser's Zudora serial. Perhaps in that instance the "hodge-podge from start to finish" comment was prophetic, for the series of episodes was extremely confusing to the public, and an outsider, Francis Worcester Doughty, had to be called in to rework the scenario. Harold MacGrath died in Syracuse on October 30, 1932.
Thanhouser Filmography:
1914-1915 Serials: The Million Dollar Mystery, Zudora
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Copyright © 1995 Q. David Bowers. All Rights Reserved.