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68 DGA QUARTERLY to the technical director only through the cameraman. As Frankenheimer remembered, the job of associate di- rector at NBC was a lesser position than at CBS, where associate direc- tors were like cinematographers and responsible for preparing all the cam- era shots for the director, as well as myriad technical tasks. That was probably because the director ruled supreme at CBS and had ulti- mate control over the look of a show. The network even encouraged and reimbursed associate directors for attending live theater in New York, regarding it as a way for them to learn about directing. The first model for television directing in the 1940s was borrowed from live radio: Instead of working on "the floor"—which is where the director was stationed for films, theater and eventually televi- sion—the earliest TV directors were situated in a control room, sometimes just down the hall. Cameras, and there were typically three, occasionally four, were set up in a cramped space that had of- ten been used for radio. Studio cameras, with their rotating lenses, allowed directors flexibility when it came to deciding on the shots they wanted. But it also made the director's job considerably harder because he had to instruct the cameras where to go next. Martin Ritt, who was just out of the Army when he got his first job at CBS, recalled the logistics like this in a 1985 DGA interview: "They had one studio in those days; it was like Grand Central Station. We did a show every week with one camera. There was nothing in re- serve. If the camera went bad, that was the end of the show. When we'd finish a scene on one set, sometimes the operator had to run the entire length of the studio to get to the other set and we had to go black sometimes for 30-40 seconds. Sidney Lumet was my AD and next door [John] Frankenheimer and [Robert] Mulligan were direct- ing shows. It was really an exciting time." The technical limitations were also obvious. After a while, CBS and NBC used three cameras on a show, one of which was mounted on a Fearless camera dolly, the other two on custom built pedestals that were raised and lowered with air pressure. "NBC's restrictions on equipment and so forth were much more rigid than a lot of the others," Delbert Mann, who directed Marty first for TV and later as a feature, commented in the book The Days of Live, edited by Skutch. "You could not dolly a pedestal camera, because it was too big, too awkward, too difficult for the cameraman to do it smoothly, keep in focus, and follow the action. You simply had to plan for static shots from your pedestal cameras and mobile shots from your crane cam- era. So there was a kind of rigidity of shooting that became almost mandatory." Making matters even more complicated was the lighting. CBS used fluorescent lamps for base lighting; NBC used incandescent flood light bulbs arranged in banks of six to 12. Since 800 foot- candles of light were needed for a quality picture, temperatures in production studios were often intolerable. "You'd spend a day in the studio, and they had these old iconoscope tubes, so the studio would get up to 110, 115 degrees," said Skutch, who worked as a floor manager at NBC in the late '40s. "One day the art director brought in a bell jar with wax fruit in it for a living room scene, and at the end of the show, there was nothing but a puddle of wax at the bottom." Directors were also grappling with a hybrid medium that required adapting techniques common in theater and film. The TV dramas were similar to stage productions, but they were nonetheless inter- rupted by four or six commercial breaks (as opposed to one or two intermissions in the theater). Rehearsals were not only about block- ing actors, but figuring out camera moves. And, as in movies, every shot was framed, shaped and choreographed by the director and his cameramen. Live TV had close-ups, fadeouts, crane shots, two-shots, over-the-shoulder dialogues—all movie techniques—except that the cameras were attached to small tractors and lacked zoom lenses. If a cameraman or actor missed his mark, the result could be a blurry image for the viewers at home. "Every shot was purposeful and meaningful and all had a place in helping tell the story properly and giving it the sophistication it needed," said Ted Post, who directed some 700 television episodes, including Danger, early Westerns such as Gunsmoke and Rawhide, PROBLEMS: (above) Arthur Hiller, directing Goodyear Theatre, knew anything could go wrong. (below) Charles Haas, directing Big Town, says "a lot of people couldn't handle the pressure." PHOTOS: (TOP) PHOTOFEST; (BOTTOM) COURTESY CHARLES HAAS; (OPPOSITE) DGA ARCHIVES