Hollywood Studio Magazine (April 1971)

Carl Laemmie — The Little Trust Buster by Frank Taylor Years ahead of his time, Carl Laemmie was the first studio boss to recognize Western movies as a major film subject. Turning out hundreds of them and making stars of Tom Mix, Hoot Gibson, Harry Cary and Buck Joneai Laemmie set a trend the industry more than 50 years later is still following. He is shown here on the wing of a plane about 1 915. L) y the time 1915 arrived movies had established themselves as a national occupation. Everybody it seemed was spending time at the local nickelodians and picture houses. Even Vaudeville was using short movie subjects at the end of a live show. Hollywood was becoming the center of film production for the world and could boast a large film colony and a few make¬ shift studios where hundreds of two reel subjects were being ground out. Of course, other things were happening around the country too. In January the first transcontinental telephone was put into service, followed by wire-less communications between the United States mainland and Hawaii. Exciting things were happening-every- where, it was a happy time. Historians seem to agree that 1915 was a vintage year for Hollywood. Charlie Chaplin, the almost unknown comic dis¬ covered by Mack Sennett was a rising star, “Birth of a Nation” had just been finished by D. W. Griffith, and a fellow named Carl Laemmie was converting a former chicken ranch outside Holly¬ wood, (Population 14,000) into a place he called: “Universal City.” Laemmle’s new creation was the first, full fledged studio built exclusively for movie making and contained a zoo, sound stages. Western town. Oriental Street, administration buildings and had its own mounted police force. Laemmie was so open minded he even had a lady cop on t^e payroll! The day Laemmie opened his new “city” 15,000 people were waiting. At the head of the spectators was a troop of movie cowboys and Indians. Giving his symbolic gold key a twist in the lock to open the studio gates for the first time, Laemmie had to jump out of the way as the horde of mounted riders and excited public charged onto the lot. It was March 15,1915 and a new era was about to start. Smiling from the safety of the side¬ lines with aging Buffalo Bill Cody and opera diva Madame Schumann-Heink, five-foot, three inch Laemmie waved the throngs on with his gold key. He probably had little time to reflect on the previous 51 years of his adventurous life that day and the long hard road he had trod to reach this milestone. As the employer of 500 people, and the owner of the newest studio in Hollywood, Laemmie may have forgotten the fright¬ ened, sea sick youth of 17 who had set out from America with little more than his father’s blessing and a $22.50 steer¬ age ticket bought with borrowed funds. It fell his lot in New York to spend sev¬ eral years working for $3 per week. To supplement this meager fund he and a friend trudged through snow and bliz¬ zards delivering papers to earn enough extra money to live on. Years of struggle with a new language, customs and coun¬ try hardened Laemmie physically, but inside he was still the same warm, good natured human being that endeared him to thousands in later life. By the time he reached the age of 38 he could look back on a mildly successful career as a haberdasher in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Comfortable? Yes, but rich? No. But 1906 proved to be a turning point in the little German’s life. After asking for more money and being refused by his employer, Laemmie moved out of Osh¬ kosh and left the clothing business for good. Taking his little family to Chicago he decided to invest his future time and money in a movie house. Carl Laemmie started his first movie house at Chicago in 1906. That year Wil¬ liam Fox, who later founded Twentieth- Century Fox, was still sponging clothes for a living, Samuel Goldfish (he later changed it to Goldwyn) was a glove deal¬ er, Jesse Lasky earned his daily bread by playing a coronet in an orchestra, and that durable Western hero Tom Mix was a United States Marshal. Adolph Zukor had only recently left his furs for the theatre, and the Warner brothers had begun exhibiting motion pictures. Will Hays was just starting to enter national politics. Hardly had Laemmie established him¬ self as a novice exhibitor when the Mo¬ tion Pictures Patents Company was formed. This combine extracted a heavy toll of money from every foot of film that was exposed and shown anywhere in the United States. Backed by millions of dollars in re¬ sources and such business giants as East¬ man Kodak, and Thomas Edison thou¬ sands of small businessmen in the movie industry were forced into line with the giant trust, feeling that they couldn’t af¬ ford to fight it. As exhibitor after exhibitor paid up the trust tightened its grip and settled back to reap the money pouring into its coffers. The sole owner to buck the graft and monopoly of the Motion Picture Pat¬ ents Company was Carl Laemmie. De¬ nouncing it, through newspaper ads, he started a fight that was to drag on in the courts for nearly six years. It would bring him near the point of bankruptcy, and hang like a pall over his head from 1909 to 1915 but his stand was eventually upheld by the courts and fed¬ eral government. In October 1915 the Shout went up: “The trust is bust!” “Uncle Carl” as his employees now called him was dubbed: “The Little Trust Buster.” Laemmie may have been thinking about his still pending battle with the trust as the Universal City Studios cere¬ monies progressed but he gave no hint of it. In sports that year Jack Johnson was bending silver dollars with his fingers, Billy Sunday was Bible thumping his way through -Philadelphia and Henry Ford was turning out his millionth auto¬ mobile. 10