What I'd like to ask is....why wasn't New York City considered the right place to produce the new Dark Shadows? It WAS originally a NYC production.
I think this article might go a long way in explaining that, which is why I've decided to share more of it than just the Greystone excerpt. The article may be from 1975, but very little has changed so far as the industry is concerned.
Daily Variety: 42nd Anniversary Issue - October 28, 1975
'A Rock Is A Rock. A Tree Is A Tree. Shoot It In Griffith Park' -- Stern Brothers.
The World In Hollywood's Backyard by Tony Scott
If the leaves rocks and buildings of Southern California could be organized into a union, they'd doubtlessly form the largest and hardest working labor organization in the motion picture industry. Some of them have been employed since the infant days of the business; others are still trying out as apprentices -- and more are yet to be discovered.
Taken as a whole, the location facilities in the environs of Hollywood are unmatched in the world -- because they
are the world. Within instant reach are Europe, Africa, the Orient and the South Pacific. Timelocks open and close on both the past and future. World War II is preserved in the tower and swastika-side planes on Van Nuys Airport. The dismal future of "Soylent Green" turns up in the Hyperion sewers.
They exist for make-believe and romance. Yet they are depended upon by filmakers for their most base, fundamental and practical values. Griffith Park may be a cliche by now. But when the script for "I Will, I Will ... For Now" called for a wooded wedding scene in a Georgetown park, good old Griffith Park stood in and nobody but the gardeners will know the difference.
With a renewed emphasis on soundstage shooting, the proximity of nearby location sites has also assumed fresh importance. When "The Sunshine Boys" determined to re-create New York City on the MGM lot, the crew stayed as close to home as possible for as many shots as possible -- and L.A. City Hall becomes a Gotham hospital.
To be sure, feature film directors will venture many miles in search of authenticty, a fresh look -- or to escape the constant watch of the front office. But even a distant project like "Jaws" comes home to Universal eventually for postproduction and finds that Catalina Island is handy for additional shooting.
While the heftier budgets of theatrical releases may provide more freedom for the restless, the grind of tv production is almost totally dependent on the diversity of Southern California. Fortunately, the small screen allows directors to stretch small budgets in ingenious ways. And despite the fact that a dozen or motre tv crews may be shooting locally on any given day, they continue to surprise themselves in finding new looks in old surroundings. Like a musician restricted to 88 piano keys, they nonetheless find new variations on many themes -- and sometimes an entirely new creation.
Except for a few establishing shots, the streets of San Francisco in "Ironside" were the streets of L.A. Change a few license plates and keep the cameras off the tops of buildings and "Kojak" transforms L.A. into N.Y. Like the trees of Griffith Park, a skyscraper door looks the same the world over.
In tv, travel usually equals peril. For its opening season, Warner Brother picked San Diego as the home base for "Harry O." Not Rome or London or Pago Pago, just San Diego, a relatively short distance down the freeway. But within the reaches of the Screen Extras Guild. So on top of the $140 per extra for a day's filming, the company had to pay transportation the day before, a hotel for the night, meals, a second day's pay, and possibly a second night's lodging.
Speaking of the experiment, "Harry O" exec producer Jerry Thorpe notes, "San Diego is a terribly photogenic city. But it is prohobitive financially. In fact, it is prohibitive to work on distant locations. It is very expensive working away, with labor problems, casting problems." In short, "Harry O" hurried home to Hollywood.
Universal TV prez Frank Price added another reason: "When we go off to distant locations, what happens so often is that last-minute polishing on the script is eliminated. Another thing, too, you're reduced to using cast members from that location, and you haven't the control. You have to take your principals, which presents another set of problems."
George Santori, Universal v.p., notes also that not having enough money in the budget to be able to afford those far locations can be a blessing, since no decision has to be made and the director, or creator, must work out his film on the conditions imposed by local locationing and backlot shooting.
Anyway, Santori says, "There is nothing you can't duplicate here except big cities like Paris and London. You can't get long shots of places like that, or Big Ben, or the Champs-Elysees with your people on the sidewalks."
Scenes are secondary to people, Price insists, echoing an additional management fear that "directors have a tendency , if they reach such places, to shoot postcards."
The cautious producer insists the same postcard can be created without the cost of the postmark. The at-hand locale, assisted by the marvels of modern film technology, mattes, processing and camera "cheating" can bring worlds to the screen without travelling great distances. With perseverance, indulgence, imagination, faith, stock film, confidence, ingenuity, experience and luck, producers find that Hollywood still serves as much as it did in the 1920s when MGM's "Ben Hur" returned from dallying in Rome and Egypt and got down to business in a colseum constructed in a vacant lot at La Cienega and Venice Blvd.
...
"In television, when you're dealing with such a little screen, you don't need a vista. Mostly you use a closeup or a two-shot -- you don't have to have 360 degrees of scope. ..."
...
Southern California offers a seemingly inexhaustible supply of homes -- old and new -- for film use. Typical is Greystone Manor, part of Greystone Park and onetime Doheny estate lying above Sunset Blvd. in Beverly Hills. Now the berth of the American Film Institute, Greystone offers an opulent appearance for exteriors and interiors.
One of its chief assets, unusual for its Southern California locale, is the total absence of palm trees on its 18 1/2 acres, making the Manor a likely stand-in for luxurious European residences. Originally constructed from 1925 to 1928, the house cost $4,000,000 and would require almost $20,000,000 to duplicate today. [/b][MB note: that was in 1975 - just think of what it would cost to build now!]
The interior, which the Beverly Hills Chamber of Commerce Visitors' Bureau is helping to refurbish and refurnish by conducting weekend tours, has 55 rooms and includes marble floors, hand-carved stairways and handrails, and rare woods which studio technicians would find impossible to duplicate.
The forecourt, which has been used for innumerable commercials, particularly automobiles, is sturdy and in keeping with the rest of the Tudor edifice. An episode of "Columbo," which went to England last year for exteriors, used Greystone for many interior shots.
A part of the Beverly Hills Park Dept., the handsome structure and grounds are available with a permit at all times for filmmakers. A split-fee arrangement between Beverly Hills and Greystone can be arranged, and the interior of the mansion must be returned to its original condition by the filmmakers.
Formal gardens, a swimming pool, wooded areas, orchards, lawns and walkways offer superb scenery for films requiring luxurious settings. A minimum of telephone poles and only a single, albeit enormous, television antenna rests on the roof of the manor.
Greystone is accessible, and its unique appearance suggests faraway places with sweet sounding names. "We did 'The Woman I Love' locally, and that had an extremely good look," says Universal's Frank Price.
Despite the difficulties involved in filming the exterior -- the trees and foliage are all but impenetrable for the lens, so the magnitude and the handsome architecural advantages of the house are lost behind the greenery -- there are good vistas and excellent interiors useful to the creator who seeks European elegance on the palace level.Even after the '91 DS was canceled, I'd videotaped several of Greystone's "appearances" because I was (still am) fascinated by its architectural design. Two of the last that feature shots of the gatehouse/driveway were a '92 commercial (that I happened to get while taping something entirely different) for the '93 Infiniti J30 and the ABC Made for TV movie, "My Brother's Wife," from '93. I just checked the tapes, and the palm in vw's photo is nowhere in evidence - though it's certainly possible that it was there but was simply too small.
