 |
|
 |
[gbvΙίι]
@NICHOLS v. UNIVERSAL PICTURES CORPORATION et al.
NICHOLS v. UNIVERSAL
PICTURES CORPORATION et al.
No. 4
Circuit Court of Appeals,
Second Circuit
45 F.2d 119; 1930 U.S.
App. LEXIS 3587
November 10, 1930
Before L. HAND, SWAN, and
AUGUSTUS N. HAND, Circuit Judges.
@L. HAND, Circuit Judge.
@The plaintiff is the
author of a play, "Abie's Irish Rose," which it may be assumed was
properly copyrighted under section five, subdivision (d), of the Copyright Act,
17 USCA 5(d). The defendant produced publicly a motion picture play,
"The Cohens and The Kellys," which the plaintiff alleges was taken
from it. As we think the defendant's play too unlike the plaintiff's to be an infringement,
we may assume, arguendo, that in some details the defendant used the
plaintiff's play, as will subsequently appear, though we do not so decide. It
therefore becomes necessary to give an outline of the two plays.
@"Abie's Irish
Rose" presents a Jewish family living in prosperous circumstances in New
York. The father, a widower, is in business as a merchant, in which his son and
only child helps him. The boy has philandered with young women, who to his
father's great disgust have always been Gentiles, for he is obsessed with a
passion that his daughter-in-law shall be an orthodox Jewess. [**2] When the
play opens the son, who has been courting a young Irish Catholic girl, has
already married her secretly before a Protestant minister, and is concerned to
soften the blow for his father, by securing a favorable impression of his
bride, while concealing her faith and race. To accomplish this he introduces
her to his father at his home as a Jewess, and lets it appear that he is
interested in her, though he conceals the marriage. The girl somewhat reluctantly
falls in with the plan; the father takes the bait, becomes infatuated with the
girl, concludes that they must marry, and assumes that of course they will, if
he so decides. He calls in a rabbi, and prepares for the wedding according to
the Jewish rite.
@Meanwhile the girl's
father, also a widower, who lives in California, and is as intense in his own
religious antagonism as the Jew, has been called to New York, supposing that
his daughter is to marry an Irishman and a Catholic. Accompanied by a priest,
he arrives at the house at the moment when the marriage is being celebrated,
but too late to prevent it, and the two fathers, each infuriated by the
proposed union of his child to a heretic, fall into unseemly and grotesque
[**3] antics. The priest and the rabbi become friendly, exchange trite
sentiments about religion, and agree that the match is good. Apparently out of
abundant caution, the priest celebrates the marriage for a third time, while
the girl's father is inveigled away. The second act closes with each father,
still outraged, seeking to find some way by which the union, thus trebly insured,
may be dissolved.
@The last act takes place
about a year later, the young couple having meanwhile been abjured by each
father, and left to their own resources. They have had twins, a boy and a girl,
but their fathers know no more than that a child has been born. At Christmas
each, led by his craving to see his grandchild, goes separately to the young
folks' home, where they encounter each other, each laden with gifts, one for a
boy, the other for a girl. After some slapstick comedy, depending upon the
insistence of each that he is right about the sex of the grandchild, they
become reconciled when they learn the truth, and that each child is to bear the
given name of a grandparent. The curtain falls as the fathers are exchanging
amenities, and the Jew giving evidence of an abatement in the strictness of
[**4] his orthodoxy.
@ "The Cohens
and The Kellys" presents two families, Jewish and Irish, living side by
side in the poorer quarters of New York in a state of perpetual enmity. The
wives in both cases are still living, and share in the mutual animosity, as do two
small sons, and even the respective dogs. The Jews have a daughter, the Irish a
son; the Jewish father is in the clothing business; the Irishman is a policeman.
The children are in love with each other, and secretly marry, apparently after
the play opens. The Jew, being in great financial straits, learns from a lawyer
that he has fallen heir to a large fortune from a great-aunt, and moves into a
great house, fitted luxuriously. Here he and his family live in vulgar
ostentation, and here the Irish boy seeks out his Jewish bride, and is chased
away by the angry father. The Jew then abuses the Irishman over the telephone,
and both become hysterically excited. The extremity of his feelings makes the
Jew sick, so that he must go to Florida for a rest, just before which the
daughter discloses her marriage to her mother.
@On his return the Jew
finds that his daughter has borne a child; at first he suspects the lawyer, but
eventually [**5] learns the truth and is overcome with anger at such a low
alliance. Meanwhile, the Irish family who have been forbidden to see the
grandchild, go to the Jew's house, and after a violent scene between the two
fathers in which the Jew disowns his daughter, who decides to go back with her
husband, the Irishman takes her back with her baby to his own poor lodgings. [*121]
The lawyer, who had hoped to marry the Jew's daughter, seeing his plan foiled,
tells the Jew that his fortune really belongs to the Irishman, who was also
related to the dead woman, but offers to conceal his knowledge, if the Jew will
share the loot. This the Jew repudiates, and, leaving the astonished lawyer,
walks through the rain to his enemy's house to surrender the property. He
arrives in great dejection, tells the truth, and abjectly turns to leave. A
reconciliation ensues, the Irishman agreeing to share with him equally. The Jew
shows some interest in his grandchild, though this is at most a minor motive in
the reconciliation, and the curtain falls while the two are in their cups, the
Jew insisting that in the firm name for the business, which they are to carry
on jointly, his name shall stand first. [**6]
@It is of course essential
to any protection of literary property, whether at common-law or under the
statute, that the right cannot be limited literally to the text, else a
plagiarist would escape by immaterial variations. That has never been the law,
but, as soon as literal appropriation ceases to be the test, the whole matter
is necessarily at large, so that, as was recently well said by a distinguished
judge, the decisions cannot help much in a new case. Fendler v. Morosco, 253
N.Y. 281, 292, 171 N.E. 56. When plays are concerned, the plagiarist may excise
a separate scene [Daly v. Webster, 56 F. 483 (C.C.A. 2); Chappell v. Fields,
210 F. 864 (C.C.A. 2); Chatterton v. Cave, L.R. 3 App. Cas.483]; or he may
appropriate part of the dialogue ( Warne v. Seebohm, L.R. 39 Ch.D. 73). Then
the question is whether the part so taken is "substantial," and therefore
not a "fair use" of the copyrighted work; it is the same question as arises
in the case of any other copyrighted work. Marks v. Feist, 290 F. 959(C.C.A.
2); Emerson v. Davies, Fed. Cas. No. 4436, 3 Story, 768, 795-797. But when the
plagiarist does not take out a block in situ, but an abstract of the whole,
decision is more [**7] troublesome. Upon any work, and especially upon a play,
a great number of patterns of increasing generality will fit equally well, as
more and more of the incident is left out. The last may perhaps be no more than
the most general statement of what the play is about, and at times might
consist only of its title; but there is a point in this series of abstractions
where they are no longer protected, since otherwise the playwright could
prevent the use of his "ideas," to which, apart from their
expression, his property is never extended. Holmes v. Hurst, 174 U.S. 82, 86,
19 S. Ct. 606, 43L. Ed. 904; Guthrie v. Curlett, 36 F.(2d) 694 (C.C.A. 2). Nobody
has ever been able to fix that boundary, and nobody ever can. In some cases the
question has been treated as though it were analogous to lifting a portion out
of the copyrighted work (Rees v. Melville, MacGillivray's Copyright Cases
[1911-1916], 168); but the analogy is not a good one, because, though the
skeleton is a part of the body, it pervades and supports the whole. In such
cases we are rather concerned with the line between expression and what is
expressed. As respects plays, the controversy chiefly centers upon the
characters [**8] and sequence of incident, these being the substance.
@We did not in Dymow v.
Bolton, 11 F.(2d) 690, hold that a plagiarist was never liable for stealing a
plot; that would have been flatly against our rulings in Dam v. Kirk La Shelle
Co., 175 F. 902, 41 L.R.A. (N.S.) 1002, 20 Ann.Cas. 1173, and Stodart v. Mutual
Film Co., 249 F. 513, affirming my decision in (D.C.) 249 F. 507; neither of
which we meant to overrule. We found the plot of the second play was too
different to infringe, because the most detailed pattern, common to both,
eliminated so much from each that its content went into the public domain; and
for this reason we said, "this mere subsection of a plot was not
susceptible of copyright." But we do not doubt that two plays may correspond
in plot closely enough for infringement. How far that correspondence must go is
another matter. Nor need we hold that the same may not be true as to the
characters, quite independently of the "plot" proper, though, as far
as we know, such a case has never arisen. If Twelfth Night were copyrighted, it
is quite possible that a second comer might so closely imitate Sir Toby Belch
or Malvolio as to infringe, but it would not be enough that [**9] for one of
his characters he cast a riotous knight who kept wassail to the discomfort of
the household, or a vain and foppish steward who became amorous of his
mistress. These would be no more than Shakespeare's "ideas" in the
play, as little capable of monopoly as Einstein's Doctrine of Relativity, or
Darwin's theory of the Origin of Species. It follows that the less developed
the characters, the less they can be copyrighted; that is the penalty an author
must bear for marking them too indistinctly.
@In the two plays at bar
we think both as to incident and character, the defendant took no more --
assuming that it took anything at all -- than the law allowed. The stories are
quite different. One is of a religious zealot [*122] who insists upon his child's
marrying no one outside his faith; opposed by another who is in this respect just
like him, and is his foil. Their difference in race is merely an obbligato to
the main theme, religion. They sink their differences through grandparental
pride and affection. In the other, zealotry is wholly absent; religion does not
even appear. It is true that the parents are hostile to each other in part
because they differ in race; but [**10] the marriage of their son to a Jew does
not apparently offend the Irish family at all, and it exacerbates the existing
animosity of the Jew, principally because he has become rich, when he learns
it. They are reconciled through the honesty of the Jew and the generosity of
the Irishman; the grandchild has nothing whatever to do with it. The only
matter common to the two is a quarrel between a Jewish and an Irish father, the
marriage of their children, the birth of grandchildren and a reconciliation.
@If the defendant took so
much from the plaintiff, it may well have been because her amazing success
seemed to prove that this was a subject of enduring popularity. Even so,
granting that the plaintiff's play was wholly original, and assuming that
novelty is not essential to a copyright, there is no monopoly in such a
background. Though the plaintiff discovered the vein, she could not keep it to
herself; so defined, the theme was too generalized an abstraction from what she
wrote. It was only a part of her "ideas."
@Nor does she fare better
as to her characters. It is indeed scarcely credible that she should not have
been aware of those stock figures, the low comedy Jew and Irishman. [**11] The
defendant has not taken from her more than their prototypes have contained for
many decades. If so, obviously so to generalize her copyright, would allow her
to cover what was not original with her. But we need not hold this as matter of
fact, much as we might be justified. Even though we take it that she devised
her figures out of her brain de novo, still the defendant was within its
rights.
@There are but four
characters common to both plays, the lovers and the fathers. The lovers are so
faintly indicated as to be no more than stage properties. They are loving and
fertile; that is really all that can be said of them, and anyone else is quite
within his rights if he puts loving and fertile lovers in a play of his own,
wherever he gets the cue. The plaintiff's Jew is quite unlike the defendant's. His
obsession is his religion, on which depends such racial animosity as he has. He
is affectionate, warm and patriarchal. None of these fit the defendant's Jew,
who shows affection for his daughter only once, and who has none but the most
superficial interest in his grandchild. He is tricky, ostentatious and vulgar,
only by misfortune redeemed into honesty. Both are grotesque, [**12]
extravagant and quarrelsome; both are fond of display; but these common
qualities make up only a small part of their simple pictures, no more than any
one might lift if he chose. The Irish fathers are even more unlike; the
plaintiff's a mere symbol for religious fanaticism and patriarchal pride,
scarcely a character at all. Neither quality appears in the defendant's, for
while he goes to get his grandchild, it is rather out of a truculent
determination not to be forbidden, than from pride in his progeny. For the rest
he is only a grotesque hobbledehoy, used for low comedy of the most conventional
sort, which any one might borrow, if he chanced not to know the exemplar.
@The defendant argues that
the case is controlled by my decision in Fisher v.Dillingham (D.C.) 298 F. 145.
Neither my brothers nor I wish to throw doubt upon the doctrine of that case,
but it is not applicable here. We assume that the plaintiff's play is altogether
original, even to an extent that in fact it is hard to believe. We assume
further that, so far as it has been anticipated by earlier plays of which she
knew nothing, that fact is immaterial. Still, as we have already said, her
copyright did not cover [**13] everything that might be drawn from her play;
its content went to some extent into the public domain. We have to decide how
much, and while we are as aware as any one that the line, wherever it is drawn,
will seem arbitrary, that is no excuse for not drawing it; it is a question
such as courts must answer in nearly all cases. Whatever may be the
difficulties a priori, we have no question on which side of the line this case
falls. A comedy based upon conflicts between Irish and Jews, into which the
marriage of their children enters, is no more susceptible of copyright than the
outline of Romeo and Juliet.
@The plaintiff has
prepared an elaborate analysis of the two plays, showing a "quadrangle"
of the common characters, in which each is represented by the emotions which he
discovers. She presents the resulting parallelism as proof of infringement, but
the adjectives employed are so general as to be quite useless. Take for example
the attribute of "love" ascribed to both Jews. The plaintiff has depicted
her father as deeply attached [*123] to his son, who is his hope and joy; not
so, the defendant, whose father's conduct is throughout not actuated by any
affection for his [**14] daughter, and who is merely once overcome for the
moment by her distress when he has violently dismissed her lover.
"Anger" covers emotions aroused by quite different occasions in each case;
so do "anxiety," "despondency" and "disgust." It
is unnecessary to go through the catalogue for emotions are too much colored by
their causes to be a test when used so broadly. This is not the proper approach
to a solution; it must be more ingenuous, more like that of a spectator, who
would rely upon the complex of his impressions of each character.
@We cannot approve the
length of the record, which was due chiefly to the use of expert witnesses. Argument
is argument whether in the box or at the bar, and its proper place is the last.
The testimony of an expert upon such issues, especially his cross-examination,
greatly extends the trial and contributes nothing which cannot be better heard
after the evidence is all submitted. It ought not to be allowed at all; and
while its admission is not a ground for reversal, it cumbers the case and tends
to confusion, for the more the court is led into the intricacies of dramatic
craftsmanship, the less likely it is to stand upon the firmer, if more naive, [**15]
ground of its considered impressions upon its own perusal. We hope that in this
class of cases such evidence may in the future be entirely excluded, and the
case confined to the actual issues; that is, whether the copyrighted work was
original, and whether the defendant copied it, so far as the supposed
infringement is identical.
@The defendant, "the
prevailing party," was entitled to a reasonable attorney 's fee (section
40 of the Copyright Act [17 USCA 40]).
@Decree affirmed.
k΅Δέι
z[Ιίι
|
|