The Rise and Fall of the Golden Age of Hollywood: An Epic Greek Tragedy
67One of Two Senior Theses; I feel that this is my best work.
The Rise and Fall of the Golden Age of Hollywood: An Epic Greek Tragedy
"The American cinema is a classical art, so why not then admire in it what is most admirable-I.E., not only the talent of this or that filmmaker, but the genius of the system."
French film critic Andre Bazin (1957)
Today, the concept of Hollywood immediately engenders images of grandeur, financial extravagance, immeasurable "stardom" and achievement at the pinnacle of an incredibly competitive industry. Though these aspirations materialize for a small percentage of dreamers, they continued to be viewed as the "yellow tape" for the race to theatrical success for many. Of course, the elegant facade of Hollywood today derives its appearance from a particular epoch wherein layers upon layers of exorbitance and artistic genius were laid upon it. From the financial genius of entrepreneurs such as Adolph Zukor to actors such as Humphrey Bogart, these talents created the "Golden Age" of Hollywood, beginning post-World War I and ending in the early 1950s. Similar to a Greek tragedy, Hollywood was propelled by the same savvy financial methods and entrepreneurial spirit that would ultimately act as the catalyst of its demise. This paper will trace Hollywood's ascension as one of the premier industries in the United States (and later internationally), first, delving into the reasons why the film industry, at its nascence, decided to settle there. Next, the life of movie moguls such as Carl Laemelle and Adolph Zukor will be traced, illustrating the dynamics of the movie industry's financial construction envisaged from the mind of a Hungarian immigrant. Innovative studios like MGM, who edified the rest of the industry as to efficient movie production, will also be dissected. Subsequently, the landmark Supreme Court case and onset of television will be examined in relation to the decline of movie audiences.
PART 1: From Genesis to Formidable Industry: 1900-1929
Although the birth of the entertainment system is typically associated with Hollywood, its origin can be traced through five-cent pictures known as "nickelodeons," an early type of movie theater during the late 19th century that showed news reels and short skits, typically running them from morning to night. Although these reels only lasted for ten minutes, they were able to cultivate interest among people. Film studios, including Biopic, quickly saw the potential in this venture and cropped up all over the United States, despite Thomas Edison's adamant claims that he was the sole proprietor of the motion picture patent (A Nickelodeon's History). Fortunately for the movie industry, he lost this claim, and the budding industry continued to expand.
Hollywood as the center of the motion picture industry (which would later lure other forms of media) was among other things an accident. In 1900, Hollywood was a diminutive town with a negligible population consisting mostly of farmers. D.W. Griffith, a vanguard in the emerging film industry, came to Los Angeles to shoot a movie for the Biograph Company. However, exploring the surrounding terrain, he came upon a town called Hollywood, located several miles from Los Angeles (Hollywood would eventually be swallowed up by the greater city of Los Angeles). He enjoyed the atmosphere and congenial residents so much he decided to return, shooting several more movies before going back to New York.
Since Thomas Edison held patents over certain movie-making elements, more and more movie producers felt impelled to go west to avoid these fees (D.W. Griffith, Encarta). Furthermore, the Mediterranean-like climate permitted directors to shoot scenes year round, making movie schedules more elastic. Hollywood was also situated around valleys, lakes, mountains and various other kinds of topography relatively accessible for any film production. Being located near Los Angeles, one of the most antiunion cities in the country, afforded producers a vast supply of labor with no strings attached (Sitton, 256). Los Angeles had already solidified its reputation as a magnet for professional theater and film studios, which also enjoyed low taxes, helpful to the tight budgets. By 1915, roughly fifteen thousand workers would be employed in the film industry, a testament to the plentiful labor available in Los Angeles (Bohn, 5).
An additional reason for Hollywood's ascent as the motion picture capital resides in the success D.W. Griffith had there. There he filmed his epic The Birth of a Nation (1915), known for its innovative technological and narrative elements, which has since been heralded as Hollywood's first major "blockbuster" movie, capturing the nefarious impression of the Ku Klux Klan against the backdrop of the Civil War (Dirks, 1). It would go on to make nearly eighteen million dollars, the equivalent of over three hundred eighty million dollars today (Minneapolis Fed CPI). This movie also established the precedence of feature length films and was a clear fountainhead for future epic movies resembling it.
During its infantile stage, the direction of all aspects of film production had fallen on the heavily burdened shoulders of the director. However, a fresh frame of management would be introduced by Thomas Ince, a young producer who would forever alter the model under which movies were completed. Instead of individual director units where all were under the sovereignty of a director, Ince implemented a "central producer system" in which producers would oversee several productions at once. This opened the floodgates for commercialism, as businesses and management firms who saw the potential in this industry began to hire directors who could generate financially successful films (Sitton, 258). Myriad actors who prided themselves as true artists were outraged by the exploitation of their work by financial consultants who helped tame budget costs. In fact, most of these businesses hailed from New York, which would remain the viable financial epicenter for the film industries until the 1930s.
At first blush, movie studios relied on large theater chains as not only lucrative ventures, but also as assets for the company, as financial stability and longevity for the company was vital. These theaters showed movies that were heavily formulaic and followed a proven system, even using scenes from other films in order to save money and time (though this practice would cease after World War I). In an attempt to wring every bit of profit out from the public, the movie theaters or "palaces" charged higher prices for "A-class" features, movies that producers and actors devoted much time and capital to in hopes of creating a high grossing hit, during non-peak hours. Once a movie palace had taxed its audience with the movie (which could play for months on end as long as there was substantial public interest), it would matriculate to being shown during evenings and weekends (Schatz, 21).
The term "movie mogul" was born out of a movement by which what can only be described as a "Jewish oligopoly" came to reign over Hollywood in its nascence. Originating in impoverished communities and circumstances, courageous second generation Jews such as Adolph Zukor were responsible for creating Hollywood's "Golden Age." Zukor was born on January 7, 1873 in Hungary. Losing his parents at an early age, he was raised by an austere uncle who inculcated him with, among other things, a good work ethic (Gabler, 14). Ending a rather vacuous childhood, at sixteen years old he embarked on his journey to premier movie mogul by immigrating to the United States and landing a job in New York as a sweeper (Starpulse). Zukor immersed himself in the vast culture of New York City in order to rapidly assimilate himself.
Juggling activities such as night school and boxing, he slowly began to climb up the socio-economic ladder, getting involved in fur trading. He became exceedingly wealthy during his tenure with Kohn & Company; barely thirty years old, he "estimated his own windfall at somewhere between $100,000 and $200,000." Despite the budding fur trading business he built, restlessness for more continued to gnaw at his consciousness. Zukor began to invest in arcades, an early form of movie theaters. He and his co-partner, Morris Kohn, mutually agreed to liquidate the fur business and invest more in this fairly untapped industry. Capital was accrued from Jewish friends and family members who were more than happy to become investors in this enterprise (Gabler 16-17; 19).
Zukor would not expand into a chain of arcades until he met Marcus Loew, the future head of Loew's Theatre chain, of which Zukor would eventually become the treasurer (Starpulse). Zukor began to get interested in the aspect of producing movies, seeing the vast potential they held. He wanted to change the image of the movie from a banal novelty to a highly esteemed form of art. The only way that this could be accomplished would be by generating better quality movies that would appeal to the large middle-class audience along with the working-class, who comprised the majority of early movie-goers (Gabler, 24). The phrase "famous players in famous plays" was engendered from this concept. Zukor believed that using famous actors depicted in daily circumstances of the middle and upper-classes could spawn a new image of movies. He also hoped to ripen movies into riveting dramas, striking the emotional chords of audiences all over. Experimenting with the French movie Queen Elizabeth, Zukor enjoyed success in its premiere on July 12, 1912. This was also a personal affirmation, as he had clearly been embraced into the upper class, shaking free of the chains of impoverishment and outsider Jewish status. Having created his own enterprise, The Famous Players Company, he decided to pursue his dream of making movies and therefore liquidated all of his investments in Loew's Theatrical Enterprises (Gabler, 2830; 40).
Zukor's new challenge lay in his takeover of Paramount, "the brainchild of a former correspondence school salesman...formed in 1914 by five exchange men to distribute films on a reliable and national basis." To do this, he merged with a rival distributor, Lasky Feature Play Company. In 1916, having now been in the United States for twenty-seven years, Zukor purchased Paramount through Famous Players-Lasky, thus finally acquiring his crown jewel (Gabler, 34; 38). Now the undisputed king of the movie world, though this would only spur his enthusiasm to rise even further, he continued to develop Paramount until it held a monopoly on all facets of movie-making production (Starpulse). Now, Zukor had control of supply and demand, possessing the resources and scale to produce as many movies as he wished, stamping out the business model that other movie studios would quickly embrace in hopes of joining the elite ranks of himself and Paramount (Gabler, 42). Zukor is only one example of the entrepreneurial spirit required to erect and maintain a Hollywood studio, as after World War I it would become evident that the United States would entertain an innovative industry of increasing importance.
At Universal Studio, a system was created whose impact would reverberate in other studios within the system. It stressed an "economies of scale" approach to film making, producing dozens of low-budget features in order to rein in spending while also swelling the number of movies made. Carl Laemmle, president and founder of Universal, was a typical movie mogul whose roots were in Jewish Eastern Europe. Over time, Laemmle grew to believe that stars and features were too unpredictable to invest time and money into, concluding that the star-system was a "ruinous practice that has been responsible for high-priced but low-grade features." He was uninterested in A-Class features and first-run theaters for the most part, instead targeting small-towns and rural theaters, as there was less competition and steadier revenue. However, after World War I, even Laemmle was forced, at the very least, to acknowledge the marketplace's success with feature -length films that used stars based on the movie's genre (Schatz, 20-21).
The ability to produce low-budgeted films while still appealing to wide demographics was a skill that Universal was able to hone in on during its reign at the top of the industry. Being one of the first studios to vertically integrate business operations, Universal was the envy of many for its ability to reap the highest quality out of the least amount of resources. Under the leadership of business strategist Carl Laemmle, Universal was steered clear of the race to acquire theater chains and A-class movies, focusing instead on its superb distribution and production studios (Schatz, 22). However, Irving Thalberg, a rising producer within the company, implored Laemelle to reconsider, fearing that Universal's competitors would usurp control of the industry by their growing investments into theaters and high-budgeted films (Schatz, 26).
In 1922, Thalberg would cement his own destiny by circumventing the offices at New York and expanding the budget for The Hunchback of Notre Dame to $1.25 million, a blatant strike against Universal's production orthodoxy and his relationship with Laemelle. Although Thalberg was trying to unveil Universal's true ability to produce feature films, Laemelle would not be persuaded (Hall, 1). It became clear to Thalberg that Universal (especially Laemelle) had become somewhat complacent, resting on its laurels and stifling the creative process for many producers, technicians, directors, writers and actors. In February 1923, Thalberg made the leap from Universal to Louis B. Mayer Productions with the title of vice president and production assistant (Schlatz, 28). Strictly a production company, it would, however, eventually integrate into a conglomeration later known as Metro Goldwyn Mayer, or MGM studios. Though Universal would enjoy future success and live to see the modem era, it would never enjoy the domination it held over the industry during the early 20th century.
A film studio that others would strive to emulate was MGM/Loew's, a hybrid company which embodied a very regimented yet fluid way of managing movie production. Loew's movie theater was the brain child of Marcus Loewe, who began his career in the entertainment industry with nickelodeons. In order to keep up with competitors, Loew would eventually purchase Metro Studio, Goldwyn Pictures and Mayer Production, creating MGM (Film Review -Marcus Loew).
While Loewe's theater would slowly slide down the list of priorities, Louis B. Mayer would begin to fashion an image for MGM with help from Irving Thalberg, a fellow executive whose oversaw much of the production. Meanwhile, Mayer handled contracts and scouting back in New York. MGM became one of the first studios to vertically integrate its company, boasting its own assembly of writers, directors, studios, editing, and distribution, providing a model that all successful studios employed. Thalberg micro-managed all phases of production, even procuring audiences to preview movies, investing his trust in the public's perception of a movie. However, MGM abstained from joining the race to acquire theaters that so many other companies, including Warner Brothers, Paramount and Fox, became involved in. Rather, MGM opted to skew its focus towards producing mostly A-class films injected with light comedy and romance along with bankable stars (Schatz, 37; 39). As a result, MGM paved the way for other studios placing emphasis on first-run theaters rather than practicing "block booking," where independent theater owners were forced to purchase large quantities of films, most of which were of low quality.
Another facet of this system, at which Mayer and Thalberg were maestros, entailed linking stars to a particular genre. A star the caliber of Lon Chaney would require a particular set of resources, plot direction (which usually dealt with the supernatural or horror) and even proper co-starts who wouldn't offset his performance to the public. This paradigm of movie-producing did not go unnoticed by other studios, most of whom saw this as a way to draw audiences to see the movies just because a favorite actor or actress was in it, an implicit marketing tool that highlighted the sexuality of certain stars. However, Mayer wisely stated that "the public makes the stars," an expression that accurately depicted the fickleness of the movie business. Today's hulking hero could be tomorrow's declining deadbeat, all at the hands of the incredibly fickle and esoteric public (Schatz, 40-42).
While Mayer was negotiating contracts, balancing egos, and ensuring dependable production, Thalberg was immersed in the inner-workings of production itself. He had executives be his ears and eyes in writing and editing meetings, during shooting, and in all other aspects he couldn't be at immediately (The Rise of MGM). However, Thalberg was a highly-motivated and dedicated individual, sitting in on nearly a third of all productions on his own accord. The environment at MGM did not stifle creativity or collaboration between departments, as the executives valued teamwork and knew it prevented anyone from garnering too much authority over a particular project (Schatz, 44-46).
Warner Brothers was a unique Hollywood outfit since it was run by four zealous brothers: Harry, Albert, Sam and Jack. As did other pioneers in the movie business, they, too began in the nickelodeon business, eventually moving into distribution and slowly gravitating toward producing movies as well (Schatz, 60-61). Warner Brothers became an aggressive player in the race to acquire movie screens, absorbing palatial theaters in cities such as New York and Chicago (Schatz, 64). They also expanded their distribution to a national scale in taking over Vitgraph studios (Lussier, 1).
By the 1920s, Hollywood was becoming the epicenter of the global film industry. America was able to climb to the forefront of the movie business during the First World War, and by 1919 produced nearly ninety percent of all films shown in international theaters (Bohn, 8). During the same year, greater Los Angeles produced over eighty percent of the world's movies. Movie theaters enjoyed a meteoric rise as well, expanding from only several hundred nationally to roughly fourteen thousand by 1914, indicative of the insatiable demand of customers (Sitton, 257; 260).
With the economy booming after World War I, film makers took the opportunity to further expand on the new form of entertainment. Pictures created by studios such as MGM, RKO and Warner Brothers began luring talent and investments from the east. Departing from being interwoven with explicit political, radical or social themes, films instead began to gravitate towards more purely entertainment purposes, where a mass audience could be reached, or so said the Wall Street investors whose business principles were transported to Los Angeles studios. Thanks mostly to the spike in the movie industry, the city's population rose from three-hundred nineteen thousand in 1910 to an astronomical one million three hundred thousand in 1930 (Sitton, 256; 260). People regularly came to movie theaters several times a week around the country to watch their favorite silent actor or actress. However, there would be no greater innovation in film industry than the incorporation of sound, which came in the late twenties.
The new corporate presence in Hollywood precipitated new changes in the demographics of movie audiences. Typically, workers and immigrants who were too poor to afford other kinds of entertainment were relegated to movie theaters. With business sense trickling down from corporate executives to producers and directors, studios began to broaden their audiences to include prosperous middle-class families. Encouraged by the swell of movie patrons, theaters began to build "palaces" to please "middle-class" audiences (Sitton, 262-63).
In 1925, Western Electric, a subsidiary under AT&T, perfected a novel sound on-disc system known as Vitaphone. Despite the endless possible effects this could have on the industry, many studios were averse to the idea of introducing sound to films, seeing it was too risky or a fancy addition to rising film costs that would offer little return. However, Warner Brothers, a small fledgling studio at the time, decided to take a gamble and implement sound in their films. Warner Brothers first used this in Don Juan (1926) and received such an incredible response that it dedicated itself to producing all of the next year's films with the system. Although the system was riddled with deficiencies, such as not always being in time with the actor's mouth, it was able to incorporate orchestral and even popular music into movies, enhancing the quality of the movie and experience of the amazed audience. Warner Brothers’ The Jazz Singer (1927) cemented the industry's transition to sound. The company, soon bullied by competition to give up its exclusive rights to Vitaphone, was compensated in future royalties from the system. Between 1927 and 1929, profits rose as high as six hundred percent for some film studios, although collectively nearly three hundred fifty million dollars was borrowed to fund this new system (Bohn, 12-13). This shift in entertainment was deemed risky by some; others with little to lose invested in this enterprise, such as Walt Disney, the critically acclaimed cartoonist and imaginative genius.
Unlike the other studios, however, Warner Brothers was limited in its amount of accessible resources and capital, though this would not curb its lavish spending habits subsequent to the acclaimed movie The Jazz Singer (Schatz, 64). Furthermore, there was no group of middle-management, an illustration of the tenacious grip the Warner Brothers themselves personally held over their studio. Always fearful of hemorrhaging money through ill-conceived movies, Warner nevertheless took a big gamble on the production of The Jazz Singer in 1927.
After the unprecedented success of The Jazz Singer, Warner Brothers feverishly moved to equip all studios with sound. Other studios, such as MGM and Paramount, waited on the periphery to see if the incorporation of sound would prove a bankable success. Warner Brothers had an advantage in being the first studio to use sound, and hence was able to produce a string of hits without any competition for a brief amount of time before other studios caught up with them. Despite a bright future, tensions between production chief Darryl Zanuck and Harry Warner nearly destroyed the company (Schatz, 135). Zannuck, who was in a similar position to Irving Thalberg's at MGM, along with Harry Warner, who held a position tantamount to Mayer's, quarreled repeatedly on several issues stemming from Warner's spendthrift ways and obsessive control of the studio (Schatz, 139). The relationship became irrevocably strained, fueled by the Warners' obsessive micromanagement and eagerness to cut back on any costs that would insulate the brothers from economic malaise. Zannuck would jettison his position at Warner Brothers in April of 1933 for a position at Twentieth Century Pictures (Schatz, 152-54).
Zannuck, however, did shape the identity of Warner Brothers' films, cultivating an image of action, machismo, violence and brutality that was at the heart of the topical conversation. Tough guy actors such as James Cagney made the ascension to stardom through this genre, typically depicting thugs or men with cold exteriors but deceivingly tender interiors. Films about gangsters became a mainstay at Warner Brothers (Schatz, 138). However, this brand of entertainment was vetted by media, politicians and even concerned parents who were averse to the viciousness and carnage depicted in these films.
Additionally, the speed at which movies were completed at Warner Brothers complemented the sense of urgency and immediacy that the characters faced. Production was ramped up, placing pressure on directors to shoot at least several minutes of film per day (Schatz, 141). Directors typically implanted montages of scenes, a cost-effective technique that would soon be embraced by the artistic community as an innovative way to narrate the story without delving too much into plot or into the back story of the characters.
Part II: A Depressed Industry in a Deflated Economy: 1929-1939
Universal Pictures, once the titan of the industry, was restyling its production under Carl Laemmle, Jr. Having been surrounded and nurtured by the upper echelon of Hollywood during his childhood, Junior appeared to be a great nominee for Laemmle, Sr. to pass the reins of Universal to. Although he took over in April, 1928, unlike his father, Junior envisaged Universal being reestablished as an outfit that streamlined most of its resources towards feature films impregnated with contagious plots, glossy packaging, and appealing stars (Schatz, 83). He was further encouraged to make this shift with the unprecedented success of All Quiet on the Western Front (1929), which won Academy Awards both for best picture and best director, Lewis Milestone. Still, problems surfaced for Universal stemming from several issues, including the spreading Depression. As previously discussed, the company itself was not constructed to deal with feature films, rather being targeted to independent theaters and rural communities, as Laemmle Sr. had believed this to be the most profitable avenue. Junior's ambition and vision inflated costs for the studio, depleting it of liquid cash. Since Universal had sold off its theaters during Senior's administration, Universal was not anchored by assets to procure loans. Compounded by the Depression, which would not be fully realized in the entertainment industry until the mid-1930s, Universal had little discretion in figuring its financial future. Universal, and Junior, were forced to revert back to the previous model that stressed economization and prudence with films (Schlatz, 85-86).
With the onset of the Depression, Warner Brothers' lavish spending habits became much more frugal. Harry Warner conceived Warner Brothers as a studio that would consistently create formulaic, assembly-style movies that were devoid of any garnishing or glossed-over features. Instead, Warner Brothers opted to take biopsies of contemporary stories, portraying the lives of society's low-lifes and forgotten citizens, believing this would strike an emotional chord with those who were severely affected and afflicted by the Depression. Warner pictures were inclined not to indulge in fantasy or unrealistic romances, since a tenet of its film philosophy highlighted the fact that life did not always afford people those luxuries. Additionally, romantic films required multiple co-stars, which was not practical given the deflated economy and tight budget. Instead, a sense of exigency was injected into Warner Brother pictures, whether it was a car chase between criminals or some societal injustice foisted upon an innocent man. This kind of angle subdued any kind of character development, as it was both a frugal decision as well as designed so that more people could sympathize with the character (Schatz, 136-37; 141).
Already gaining a reputation as an adroit artist, Walt Disney played a major role in the advent of sound. Although many animators, most of whom resided in greater Los Angeles where studios were located, believed that "it would seem unnatural, peculiar, and off-putting" for a cartoon character to speak, Disney felt this was the destiny of entertainment. With his unflappable desire and perseverance, Disney would not only incorporate sound into his next cartoon, Steamboat Willie, but would also master the challenging art of synchronizing the drawings with sound, a feat in itself (Disney, 117). However, Disney and other studios would often struggle just to break even with the expensive inclusion of sound. Thankfully, sound caught on like wildfire, and by the mid 1930s nearly all movies were being produced with synchronized sound.
However, this would not be the lone mechanism that would propel audiences to the box office. The appeal of seeing "stars" or certain glamorized actors and actresses was used as a way to stimulate publicity and generate demand for films from certain studios. Actors being under contracts with studios rather than working on a film by film basis allowed studios to create films built around these "stars," even focusing the camera in certain scenes for "close-ups" to make the relationship between the actor and audience more personal (Bohn, 28). This was an attempt to bridge the chasm created between the audience and actors, since before films, live theatre had been the vastly popular source of entertainment, allowing the audience actually to see their heroes and villains up close. Stars such as Greta Garbo and Rudolph Valentino during the silent era, as well as future celebrities such as Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney, would be hyped as leads in movies to persuade consumers to see these pictures.
Besides high costs, fierce competition and overzealous advertisement, censorship became a formidable hurdle studios had to leap over. Beginning as early as 1915, the filtration of "obscenity" from movies was widely regarded as a necessary practice. However, abhorrent crimes committed by a few Hollywood workers began to grace the front covers of newspapers, eroding Hollywood's unblemished reputation. For instance, comedian Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle was accused of raping and murdering a girl and actor Wallace Reid died of a drug overdose (Wallace Reid). Embroiled in scandal after scandal during the early 1920s, Hollywood sought to cleanse its sullied reputation by hiring a public relations expert.
William Hays, who would become the first president of the Motion Pictures Association of America (which lobbied for movie studios, producers and distributors), was hired to recast Hollywood as an industry of moral standing rather than turpitude. Since religion was tied to every societal operation, the slander and vitriol charged against Hollywood by religious leaders had only intensified with the introduction of sound. Due to this unbridled pressure, Hays finally implemented a compulsory code every movie produced would have to abide by. There were strict provisions, including the extreme curtailment of sex and crime; nudity or even criticism of religion was not allowed. Although this was clearly unpalatable for the tastes of most movie directors and producers, Hays convinced them it was better than government regulation (Culture Shock).
The Hays Code would be adopted in 1930 at the inception of the Great Depression, as studios watched their fortunes evaporate in the stock market decline and scrambled to find a financial buoy. This catastrophe warranted the flexible approach to the Code, since the appeal of movies to audiences was crucial. In 1934, the economy recovered enough for Congress to leverage Hollywood with federal legislation. Coupled with more threats from the Catholic Legion of Decency, newly appointed head of the MPAA Jay Breen capitulated and began to reinforce the Code to ensure ethics in movies would not be trounced by reprehensible behavior. (Chia, 1).
Hollywood would inevitably sustain a heavy blow from the Depression, resulting in massive plummets in profits and confidence in the entertainment industry. At first, the Big Eight studios felt they were impervious to the Depression's debilitating influence in the United States' economic sector. There was great cause to believe this, as in 1930 their combined profits were nearly $60 million dollars. However, in 1931 there was a significant deflation of earnings, as the titans of the industry only amassed roughly $7 million dollars in profits, a staggering drop of nearly ninety percent. By 1932, the very same group lost nearly thirty million dollars, with Paramount, RKO and Fox going into bankruptcy or a similar alternative by 1933 (Schatz, 159).
A beacon of hope in the shape of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt was able to cut through some of the Depression's malaise and rejuvenate society. Hollywood was not impervious to this either, as Roosevelt set out economic recovery in the form of the National Industrial Recovery Act (NlRA). By the mid-1930s, greater Los Angeles had become one of the top five industrial cities in the United States, with the film industry providing the largest source of employment and production (Sitton, 269). With the genesis of the Great Depression, not even the prosperous movie industry could escape a financial blow. Ironically, this would prove only a minute setback for Hollywood, as a much higher percentage of the population went to the movies even more then during times of economic prosperity. In fact, in 1930 alone the total audience was roughly eighty-million people, over half of the United States population (Finler, 288). A movie offered people an affordable temporary escape from the economic and social malaise just outside of theaters. In 1938, Disney's Snow White was released, grossing an unprecedented eight million dollars and embarrassing all of the major studios, who were all in an artistic slump, as Disney was not regarded as a major movie studio. Along with the "Three Little Studios" (Universal, Columbia and United Artists), detractors seized this opportunity to produce an anti-trust case against the "Big Five" studios (20th Century-Fox, Paramount, RKO, Warner Brothers and MGM). The United States Department of Justice, on the heels of this expanding opposition, announced the suit on July 20, 1938 (Hollywood Slump of 1938).
PART III: Legal Recourse and World War II Propaganda within the Entertainment Industry: 1939-1950
Among the studios' practices called into question, "block-booking" was at the top of the list. Under the studio system, theaters were forced to purchase a "package" of movies, even if some of them were objectionable or poorly produced. This practice was formulated by Adolph Zukor, the pioneer of Paramount who created the first vertically integrated movie company in which the corporate giant controlled every step of the movie-making process. However, this procedure was not embraced by all in the movie industry, as producers claimed that studios siphoned sales from theaters despite unwanted merchandise within the package of movies. In fact, most of these packages contained twenty films since movies were being churned out almost as rapidly as products on an assembly line. Those who meticulously created A-pictures protested that their "art" was being mingled in with a lower class of films which reduced its appeal to the mass public (Aberdeen, 1). Studios, aware of the eventual backlash against this practice, therefore began to plan for eventual defense of them. This problem was compounded by the noticeable dearth of highly quality movies in the late 1930s, despite Hollywood's last legendary year of movie making (1939) which included The Wizard of Oz and Gone with the Wind (The Hollywood Slump of 1938).
Accused of monopolization in restraint of trade, the Big Five studios and their associates were quickly embroiled in several heated court cases. In 1939, three large Supreme Court cases came out concerning the mechanisms of large theater chains accused of colluding with movie studios to monopolize the market: United States V. Griffith, United States V. Schine Chain Theaters and United States V. Crescent Amusement Company. The issue was how large theater chains manipulated the movie market using their size and audience as leverage in negotiating rights to films. Creating a "regional monopoly" prevented independent or small-scale competitors from operating successfully. In varying degrees, the Supreme Court found in all of these cases that the Sherman Anti-Trust Acts were being violated by the monopolized effect these studios had by obtaining exclusive privileges from film distributors for their own theaters to show top movies (The Studios Prepare for Antirust Battle).
In 1948, the definitive case directed at the major studios, Paramount V. United States, would leave an indelible imprint on the business side of Hollywood. At issue was the exercise of power the Big Five studios wielded in every step of the movie-making process, from conception to distribution. In effect, these corporate behemoths were vertically-integrated, formulating a kind of oligopoly in the industry. As a result, competition was said to be suffocated by these giants, as small-scale studios and theaters chose to close rather than fight for audiences. Lawyers representing these studios asserted that these practices were "an economic necessity," vital instruments for business and competition.
In delivering the opinion of the Court, Justice William 0. Douglas undercut the stranglehold the Big Five studios held over the industry. First, the court affirmed that the studios were violating antitrust laws and hence put an end to block-booking in its entirety. It was also mandated that the studios' dissolution was the best resolution for this matter. This was a large victory for independent studios everywhere, as this ten-year struggle to reinvent the movie industry had culminated in a win in their favor. The first studio to acquiesce to the court's demands was RKO, which "divorced" its theater branch from its studios (The Supreme Court Verdict). Movie studios would no longer own movie theaters, and this watershed moment would usher in a new era of entertainment.
Subsequent to RKO's choice to yield to the Court's demands, Paramount also gave in and fractured its corporation. However, Paramount had wisely invested in television; a new medium it felt would revolutionize the entertainment industry, putting roughly four-hundred thousand dollars into DuMont to gain a sizeable interest in the manufacturing of television sets. Since Paramount negotiated a consent decree with the government, it was given leeway in its absorption of television-orientated corporations. Paramount also began purchasing television stations in places such as Chicago and Los Angeles, indicative of the changing times in the industry, as television offered people the convenience of live entertainment without leaving home. Still, even during the antitrust cases, Hollywood was going through a period of refocus, as World War II was raging, followed by the reemerging in the American consciousness of Communist fears.
Though typically criticized for its leftist views and illumination of the individual, Hollywood became extremely patriotic during World War II. In fact, it departed from entertainment and began to focus on its newsreels, readily dispensing information on the war as soon as it received it (Bohn, 223). Movies such as Flying Tigers (1942), Air Force (1943) and Burma! (1945) were all geared towards stimulating public support for the war. Typically, these movies depicted a small group of men struggling for the moral tenets of the United States: unfettered freedom and liberty. Each man had a distinct character and background, stressing that this was a war fought by Americans of all ethnic origins (World War II Guide: Hollywood's World War II). Rallying his Jewish allies and others who wanted to prove their patriotism, Adolph Zukor would help promote the purchase of bonds (Gabler, 39-40). Even President Roosevelt and his advisors played a hand in framing movies to cast their desired image of the war as a struggle that united all Americans against a common enemy (Hollywood Goes to War).
During the antitrust cases against the studios, the politics of Hollywood workers began to be interrogated by the government, as the postwar crusade against Communism spilled into the movie industry. Throughout the late 1920s and 1930s, movie houses began gaining traction as a reputable form of entertainment embraced by millions weekly. Clearly, movies had a profound influence in the lives of people, some of whom frequented theaters several times a week. Contemporaneously, there was a growing fear, especially among federal government officials, that the encroachment of Communism on the United States might be closer to home than previously thought. In fact, before World War II, the number of Communist members in the United States ranged between eighty-thousand and one-hundred thousand members (Kennedy, 1).
Although some fears were mollified during World War II while the United States and the Soviet Union were allies, quickly afterward there was a groundswell of fear. Led by the demagogic Wisconsin Senator Joseph McCarthy, investigations by the government to weed out Communist loyalists would spread through many industries. It was well known that many aspiring and established entertainers espoused left-wing, even communistic views. In 1947, the House Committee on Un-American Activities, unrelated to McCarthy's campaign against communism, ignited an expansive investigation into Hollywood. Nearly fifty people were summoned to the hearings, some of whom left the country thereafter or refused to speak. Ultimately, ten people who adamantly refused to divulge details concerning what the government was probing for became known as the "Hollywood Ten." Although they argued that their first amendment rights allowed them to be silent, they were eventually convicted of contempt of Congress and each sentenced to between six and twelve months of prison time (McCarthyism).
Postscript: The Precipitous Decline of Old Hollywood and its
Supplementation: 1950's -Present Day
Besides the federal anti-trust decision propounded by the Supreme Court, television was the other entity that would dismantle the movie studio's hegemony over entertainment. The industry, however, quickly saw potential in this enterprise, creating made for television movies. However, east-coast based radio networks CBS, NBC, and ABC were the principal stakeholders in the television industry, each formulating successful television channels and programs to broadcast to the world. As a result, studio producers began to panic at the prospect of television cutting into their profits and audience. By the mid-1950s, nearly half of all U.S. households possessed a television set, an ominous sign for the film industry (Film History of the 1950s).
Along with the advent of television, other variables began to weaken Hollywood's grip on the movie industry. Movie studios were combating rising costs for films, confining them to small-scale dramas. Departing from Hollywood, some movie studios in the 1950s began to shoot in other locations around the country and around the globe. To maintain itself as a highly-lauded industry, Hollywood and other movie studios began to shoot more in color to stay above television. Foreign competition rose from this as well, as theaters were also beginning to show films from around the world (Decline of Hollywood Studios). Screenwriters pointed to the degeneration of new plots and creativity in movies, as producers who were only interested in regurgitating hit novels and plays onto the silver screen. However, most producers retorted that vapid screenplays were to blame, forcing them to pick successful stories from bookstores and Broadway. Some believed banks to be culpable, as banking officials who financially backed producers also were the arbiters of what would get filmed. Having little or no experience with entertainment, it became the practice to use hit novels as a guarantee. Since many studios were consistently strapped for money, this became the only alternative for many (Pryor, Screen Writers). To stave off sagging attendance, Hollywood repeatedly tried to wage several promotional campaigns to encourage attendance to movie theaters, especially by women who had traditionally comprised a sizeable amount of the movie-going public. (Pryor, Hollywood Maps).
By the mid-1960s, Hollywood was still in a state of financial crisis, still attempting to re-create some of the allure it had lost over the previous fifteen years. During this time, the major studios, suffering financial ruin, were sold off to other entrepreneurial corporations. RKO had been sold off to the General Tire and Rubber Corporation in 1955, and the Music Corporation of America absorbed Universal in 1962. Between 1966 and 1970, Paramount, Warner Brothers, MGM and United Artists were all bought up by financially stable conglomerate companies. Even Twentieth-Century Fox and Columbia would submit in 1981 and 1982, being bought up by oil tycoon Marvin Davis and Coca-Cola, respectively.
Since films were not being churned out with such rapidity anymore, every movie now had the burden of carrying itself in the box office, and only a few disasters could be seriously detrimental to a studio. As a result of these acquisitions, film production found itself at the bottom of priorities for some of these companies, the other products they produced taking precedence over the costly and unpredictable production of movies.
Shattering the old, rigid Hollywood studio system reverberated within the make up of movies themselves. With the dawn of the1960s and 1970s, known as an epoch of backlash against the monotonous overtones of the 1950s, movies began to break the rules of movie-making. Chronology could be mixed, and the once distinct line between hero and villain could become vague and amorphous. Innovative, crisp producers such as Alfred Hitchcock emerged to recreate the art of narration (Schatz, 482-83). Meanwhile, leaders of the old Hollywood system like Zanuck faded. He would never recreate his success, failing to bring similar success to FOX Studios under his leadership from 1962 to 1970 (Gomery, 126-27).
During this time, studios became made more malleable, and revolved around its television production. In stark contrast to the old system, independent production companies were now hired to participate in film-by-film projects, casting aside firm contracts that literally owned talent. Accordingly, studios became prominent places to distribute and finance films, as emphasis was placed on horizontal integration in the new age of movie-making. Acquiring business in other related industries in an effort to evolve into a conglomeration was the new objective.
With the arrival of the blockbuster, Hollywood's structural transition into modernity was complete. In the late 1975, the movie Jaws pioneered a movement towards televising film advertisements to stir up interest. Replays on television could also gamer additional wealth for the particular studio. Videotapes and, later, DVDs would pave the path of the movie industry up to the present (Gomery, 198-99). Ironically, the new Hollywood system has come to rely on a fusion of television and film, seeing as neither could exist alone nor maintain the same level of affluence. This creative synergy has blended an old system with a revolutionary mechanism that is able to disperse information throughout the world in a matter of seconds. It has hastened the flow of film advertisement and wielded the ability to galvanize audiences not only to see movies but invest in ancillary (and unrelated) products not at all connected to the film industry, but also tolerated to the movie itself.
Today, Hollywood is but a relic of a time seemingly eons ago. Movies today are just as likely to be shot domestically as they are abroad, and there are scores of independent production companies that work for studios on a contract by contract basis. Movie attendance has suffered a debilitating blow from the explosion of media. From 1992 to 1998, movie revenue rocketed from $4.56 billion to $6.22 billion dollars. Conversely, from 2002 to 2007, the industry revenues only increased from $9.2 billion to
9.7 billion dollars, despite an increase in population from 288 million to 301 million people (Malyshev, 1). With the advent of the internet, even television's trademark entertainment, interspersed with endless advertisements, has been submerged. It offers a plethora of entertainment options at low cost, even allowing users to bypass advertisements. The cultivation of the internet and its user base has also encouraged piracy. According to the Motion Picture Association of America, this is defined as the ''unauthorized taking, copying or use of copyrighted materials without permission" (Anti-Piracy). Consequently, the movie industry has suffered from all of these variables, which have severely undercut it.
The "Golden Age" of Hollywood was driven by financial savvy and the imaginations of writers, producers, actors and audiences abound. Tragically, it was these same traits that brought it to its knees, through a landmark Supreme Court case and the advent of television, a byproduct of the success of the movie industry. Hollywood has continued to encapsulate, to some capacity, the magic that continues to draw millions to movie theaters. Though the anachronistic "studio system" has been supplanted by hundreds of independent studios, this unique epoch not only helped an industry grow, but also gave the United States hope through the Great Depression and World War II. It's unfathomable to imagine Hollywood not a part of these perilous times, where its shining lights gave hope to millions who unloaded their outside baggage briefly in front of theaters to enter a realm of endless possibilities portrayed by their most beloved actors. Billed as romantic and a higher form of entertainment, large audiences have continued to gravitate towards movies despite declining attendance and hiked prices. Mediums such as the internet continue to corrode its appeal, as entertainment continues to be more accessible and cheap to create or replicate. Perhaps the only tragedy here is that the movie experience itself has become a relic to younger generations.
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Comments
Christine,
Thank you for your warm comments! Yes, although the media did begin to popularize such starlets as Marylin Monroe and rugged actors as James Cagney, it has become much more intrusive today. Even during the radical 1960's, the media PROTECTED JFK, a celebrity in his own right. It has been discussed that when he invited the media to the White House on weekends when his wife was out of town, all kinds of debauchery and lewd behavior went on. Today, the media has become fickle and capricious. It can be behind a star in one second and turn on him/her in the next. And yes, the focus was not on exploiting stars but on the quality of their acting; privacy was respected. I fear with the advent of the internet, social utilities such as Facebook have torn down the walls of privacy; people are much more open about their lives today. Finally, you're right; the quality of movie-making today has dwindled considerably. Of course, the counter argument would cite movies such as "Borat" and "Blair Witch Project" which grossed hundreds of millions of dollars each on a comparatively small budget. I think what you're getting at is that artists founded the industry but today businessmen have taken over it. If nudity and shock humor can gross more than an epic love story, then in the eyes of the businessman the next step is to ensure the nudity/shock humor movie has a rated R on it instead of X (like the new Bruno movie). While I love a good comedy like Forgetting Sarah Marshall or Superbad, there is a certain threshold that I refuse to watch beneath. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!





christine almaraz says:
6 months ago
I agree that entertainment isn't what it used to be. I've always had an infatuation with old Hollywood and I think it's because one didn't know so much about celebrities private life and Hollywood society had a sort of mysterious vibe about it. Plus I think the overexposure of celebrities and the lower standards of movie making has made the movie and television experience less enjoyable. Loved you hub. Very well written.