Tad Pole
. . . which may be of interest to film buffs who are "in" to that kind of thing. Among the monikers I recognized and may be able to spell are Natalie Wood, Tony Randall, Doris Day, Martha Ray, Jimmy Durante, Fred Astaire, Clark Gable, Paul Newman, Ann Francis, Herb Hatfield, Arthur O'Connell, and David Niven. Some people might have gotten a kick out of pawing hundreds of famous faces, but I assume that by the time that this short was released, such goings on were pretty much "old hat" to Mr. Tuttle. There are some step-by-step "how-tos" included here that may be of historical interest to folks wanting to make a career of rubbing elbows with Hollywood types (but will NOT be totally comprehensible to those who have failed a high school art class, such as myself). At any rate, since most of the people referred to during THE KING OF THE DUPLICATORS have passed away long since, what more harm can this do?
dougdoepke
Brief (12-minutes) demonstration of how MGM creates masks for character changes in movies. Make-up maestro Bill Tuttle goes through stages of the process in straightforward fashion. There's no romance of the movies here, instead it's pretty much a technical exercise. As a result, I have a new appreciation of what an actor must sit through as the wax coating is applied. I hope they're paid extra for this. I would have liked some film clips showing how the appliance looks in the movie itself. But the narrative remains firmly within the make-up room. Narrator Wayne Thomas also remains firmly on topic. Overall, it's an interesting glimpse of the dream factory in action.
charlytully
This short involves one guy talking as a couple more guys dink around with plaster of Paris (though why the childish cream is called that is not really explained; why not "plaster of Peoria?"). Evidently, last century movie crew got big kicks over slopping such goop on the faces of "stars," who must not have had many union rights under the "studio system." The narrator (or workshop visitor) is some guy named "Wayne," who only lived to the age of 78 (compared to an average of 96 years plus attained by his pair of mask-maker human "duplicators," Bill and Charlie). Perhaps a lesson to be learned here is that the full longevity benefits of extending one's childhood by playing around with clay and make-up requires decades of "practice" on the part of like-minded "insiders," rather than one quick glimpse such as Hernando DeSoto keeling over on the lip of the Fountain of Youth. Now, if I had been in Wayne's shoes, I might have asked Bill how it felt painting the Wicked Witch of the West's face green every morning for weeks on end back in '39. Alternatively, I might have asked Charlie if the Cowardly Lion was really afraid, or was it all a big act? And who exactly made the flying monkeys, how old was the average Munchkin, and did they have to make up Toto, too?
Neil Doyle
Modestly interesting short shows briefly how William Tuttle, chief make-up artist at MGM for some thirty years, goes about preparing plaster masks for stars who assume character roles and need special make-up to complete their physical image.Along his wall we can spot masks of famous personalities he worked on, including Paul Newman, Clark Gable, Jimmy Durante, Doris Day and others. For this segment, we see him working on an unknown player who has his whole face smeared with make-up goo before the sculptured mask can be made.Tuttle seems like a very amiable man but it's too bad some of his more famous subjects weren't shown going through the process which looks more than mildly discomforting.
AD
