Variety (January 1961)

10 PICTITtES Fifty-fifth P'SRIETT Anniversary January 4, 1161 THE HOLLYWOOD STORY (Several of Them) . . . . By LESTER COHEN Some sort, of c harity was to be staged, and Dorshka Raphaelson, wife of the playwright, was to get in touch with Joan Crawford. Dorshka didn’t quite know how. looked Miss Crawford up in the tele¬ phone book. Sure enough, there it was: Joan Crawford. But, Dorshka, could it be the real Miss Crawford? After all she, Dorshka Raphaelson, had an unlisted num¬ ber. But she dialed. A voice that sounded like Miss Craw lord answered, but how could one be sure? She, Dorshka. had servants who answered. So — “Is this Joan Crawford?” “Yes.” “Joan Crawford, the actress?” The answer came in Miss Crawford’s managed drawl: "Well, I try”. . . Which might be a motto for all of us . . . and Dorshka tells the story on herself. * * * Dorshka to Ratoff I have known three men of theatre who could do a scene right under your nose, any time of day and night, and with utmost reality: David Belasco, Lionel Barrymore. Gregory Ratoff. I gave Ratoff his first .cerious part in motion pic¬ tures; he was to play LTlman, ultimate owner of the department store of my book “Sweepings.” which I transferred to the screen. Lionel Barrymore was to play the protagonist, the man who created the store, and who. because of grief over his children, gave the store to his hard-working manager, to be played by Ratoff. The most moving scene of the novel “Sweepings,” and I suppose of the picture, was the death of the protagonist and his denunciation of ill-starred sons and daughter. We might call it the climax of the second act. Every day as I was writing the picture there was a rap on the screen behind me. which was off the main drag of RKO. There stood Ratoff. face all sqoonched up between smiles and anxiety, handker¬ chief about his collar 'he was placing another thing on the lot so we could hold him till “Sweepings” got under way'; and every day he asked me the same question: “Lester, my boy, Barrymore dies . . . und I play the feeneesh?” And every day I assured him, that's the way it was going to be. Trailblazing Maugham We were making “Of Human Bondage." winch I had tried to get on the screen. Refused a sevenyear contract to do other things, went off salary — “What are you going to do?” Pan Berman said. “Go back to New Y’ork.” “Why?” “Because I can't get to do, something good.” “What's that?" “For the ster-r.th time, 'Of Human Bondage.’” “Never heard of it.” “Pandro.” said I. “you are a man of talent, you should read books" — a highly disagreeable idea to most producers. Six weeks later Pandro called me in New York. “Lester. I’ve read that book.” “What do you think of it?” “It's got TOO pages and no story” — but T tell this with nothmg but admiration for Pan Berman, for he followed up by saying: “Come out here and try it for six weeks.” It took longer than that, but without Berman’s faith, and David Selznick's. it could not have been made in that day No one else I knew believed in it. except — “Les¬ lie,” I said, seeing Leslie Howard on the lot. “if I get to put ‘Of Human Bondage’ on the screen, will you play Philip?" “Yes" — and that was the moment the dream took on reality. Gouhln't Get Myrna Loy Howard did the picture for $25.000 — Ins next was $75.0(10. then top money. And B-tte Davis — if we had had tire money, if “Bondage” had been made for more than the price of an average w extern, we would have had to have Myrna Loy — she did “odd” gmi>. But we couldn't pay Myrna I.oy's salary — Miss Davis I think, was getting S2(’0 a week at Warner’s, her next salary was S5 Out) a week. But she almost wasn't in toe picture. Leslie Howard's real name was Steiner. He was a German Jew and a bank clerk who went to Eng¬ land to be an actor and an Englishman — and who died, ultimately, in the service of England. He had a natural gentility, and a natural . . . F. css. shall I call it. ofmanner. He was more EnmNh than many an Eng’Ku n-i'on I have known, and eouid lend reality to any part I ever saw him play, excep* “Ha::. let.” " hsoke --is heart . . . and Bette Davis nearly did. We ve:e rehearsing "Of Human Bondage” and Howard, seeing me on the lot. stopped me. gave me that lock of strategic concern and *a:d: “That girl’s good!” Mv heart v.nk. hut trying to a-Mime the mantle of tin pkiiesnuhu and un perturb. ■ • la -’ie.” said I we w ere ' friends “don't you ti.-mk everyone in the picture should bo rood?” Mr. Howard looked at me as il say: she's 'mii* ■ •• gnrd. He was too decent a guy. too .much of a gentloru-.n to sfnnd in the way of a you:; : i mi css ail the same, as c)0'i ;> I eouid I got he’d ot Y;:-s Daws. We stand. ng in the sun. r.y the main build¬ ing of RKO i Lucille Ball, then getting $75 a week, now owns the joint). Cliffy Reid’s office on one side 'he made "The Informer”) and Connie Bennett’s dressingroom on the other — Miss Davis wearing black Chinese pajamas and a little round black Chinese hat, her pink frizzy hair straying beneath — "Miss Davis,” said I, “if you stay in this picture, you'll be a great star.” “I know it" — in that breathless whisper. “Well don’t be so good in rehearsals,” said. I, “play it down till we start to roll.” Those alert, glistening, bulgy blue eyes in a fixed intensity that said: I get it! Nothing could have kept Miss Davis from being a star: she would have been a star had she not re¬ mained in “Of Human Bondage,” but it is to every¬ one’s glory that she remained. It w as only one of a hundred times that it seemed, the picture might not be made, or properly made. Our great obstacle was the foot — as you know, the hero of “Of Human Bondage” limps. “You’re not going to make it with the foot?”— someone on the lot asked me that every day. "With the foot,” said I, for Selznick and Pan-, dro Berman had agreed. But the Hays Office, as censorship was then called, objected. Joe Breen was head of the Hays office, the censor censorum of Hollywood. The Original Mister Clean Joe Breen was an odd character. We were to be neighbors at Malibu. I got to know something about him and his family. Breen believed in God, he was a devoted family man, he could be seen, night after night, walking with his wife, he made "retreats” to religious in¬ stitutions — But Joe Breen had a suspicious mind. He had a tendency to what Bernarr Macfadden iof whose Graphic I am an alumnus) used to call “Prurient prudery.” "Why do you have to make it with the foot?” he would say in those everlasting conferences before we could make the picture. “Mr. Breen.” 1 would say, “this is a classic of English literature, and we are going to make it nearly as possible like the book." But Joe Breen, looking at me, trying to outstare me. suspected I was lying. Mr. Breen never used bad language. Those who were in conference with him will remember his curious substitutewords. “Does he skizzle the girl?” said Mr. Breen. “Why no." said I, “Philip and Mildred never have any physical intimacy beyond a few kisses.” “Tiien why docs he have to have the foot?” I could not penetrate the cloudy content of Breen's mind, one day the lightning flashed through: “Does he.!’ demanded Mr. Breen, saying some¬ thing trulv shocking? “WHY MR. BREEN!” cried I, at that moment as moral and thunderstruck as my Aunt Sarah — in¬ deed Joe Breen had lived a far “cleaner” life than I. At least 1 suppose he had — but his suggestion to me was as startling as abominable. I think the indignation that burst out of me. my love of the book, my feeling about the terrible feet •or thoughts) of clay in minds everlastingly look¬ ing, lor abominations in others — all this somehow dispelled the censorship storm. I tell the story not with regard to Joe Breen, who did hi>: level best to be a good husband, a good father, and right in the eyes of the Lord— but as an index to the chains with which Hollywood bound itself, and that ultimately dragged it down. I believe Hollywood, where pictures were once the fourth or fifth industry in the United States, bound itself to two things that all but destroyed it — censorship and the star system. That < an be argued for a long time, but the greatcs' pictures, from “Birth Of A Nation” to “Gone \\i:ii The Wind" and “From Here To Eternity” wee based on story, and great stories made stars. Gieal siorhs had wonderful ideas and characters that consulship strove to make small. A ‘New York Writer’ When I first came to Hollywood I was a young author <;'' two successful novels. I was asked there :n a troupe of seven “New Y’ork wrtiers" by Her¬ man Mankiowiez tor Paramount. It was the only time I \.as paid for not working . . . and I regret the r;r— inti of such pleasures. Tiie -even of us were brought out to “learn mo¬ tion ph.-tun s” a::d paid a weekly salary far beyond what ve w. f" earned by working. And should we th.irk of an "original" — that was thousands of dol * I f ? el i.ne thing to be agreeable in this Paradise; I woe the Hollywood uniform, white pants and cameihair coat. It was a pretty uniform, and I didn't mind, ve all looked, in the sunlight, like inr.e p,4 cites of icecream, walking. And I fli'.vc' a "big open job” and exchanged w .M-craclvS v.i'h Bill Mizncr. and v ent to parties evrrv it the mi-sus was . in the east) and got to know petiole Eke Bill Powell 'then a minor^ star; mid Jo \ o.i Sternberg 'who was directing “Under¬ world" and Evelyn Brent who was one of the most beautiful rod 'alented girls ever on the screen 'I hope to br.n-j her back in a picture I want to make) : and C!;u a B:.w the "It” girl, and I flew around on ' an oc'd m's>':;n with Gilbert and Garbo and I came | to know mad lovable Bill Wellman, and that doll : I.me-.'a Young was on the lot, and Emil Jannings. : and N;m<y (VtoII and Jack Kirkland who was to do , 'Continued on page 12 > | 'Station House* Hollywood. L. B. Mayer had signed a distinguished German author to • contract while in Europe. When he arrived at the studio, he Was assigned an office, complete with secretary, and told him not to write until he got his assignment from Irving Thalberg. He tried for three w’eeks to see Mr. Thalberg, while collecting $2,000 per week. The fourth week he got angry at Thalberg’s sec¬ retary and told her that if he didn't see the boss by the end of the week, he’d report him to L. B. When no call came from Thal¬ berg, he told his secretary he was going home. Three months later, in a beerstube in Germany, he thought about blowing the 2G a week and decided to return to America, apologize, and get his job back. Arriving at the studio, his secretary asked him where heTd been and he answered, home. She told him she had tried his home for months and got no answer. He did a slow ‘take’ and softly asked, “Did Mr. Thalberg send for me?” She said, "No, but you’re lousing up our bookkeeping department by not picking up your checks.” Benny Rubin FOOTNOTES OF I960 — ■ — By AL STILLMAN November 9 was wi-ld-and-wacky For Pat-and-Dick and Jack-and-Jackie. The latter won by a small amount. Proving Experience Doesn’t Count. So on its heaven-knows-what Anniversary, The White House will contain a Nursery, The Pittsburgh Pirates came alive. The Market took a Minor Dive. ASCAP writers' checks were slit.* Hit shows didn't have a hit. Rock ’n’ Roll pollutes the nights,— Now everybody sings and writes . . . Above the Din. beyond the Slop, Cole Porter's songs are still the Top. Most Show Producers aren’t whinin* Since London reclaimed Kenneth Tvnari, Though more than quite a few are smartin’ From barbs inflicted by McCarten. •Brooks Atkinson, the analytic. Now’s a Theatre, not a Critic! B'way and Movie b. o. rolled From Wholesome Whores with Hearts of Gold. The Nation's English isn't good Since Winston tastes like a cigaret should! The newest Trend in movie shows is Bible stories. Holy Moses! The ASCAP List or Prestige Handout) Took from the Pot 450 grand out. Biz is down in Record Singles. The catchiest tunes are still the Jingles. Casey was fired. Weiss "resigned.” Ray Charles had Georgia on his mind. New Y’ork Racing — an Institution — Got my Annual Contribution. Jack Paar “returned” to the TV scene After shedding tears on my TV screen; But gone are the Garden TV fights. Like the 7:30 curtain on Wednesday nights.* A lot of Comedians weren’t funny. Debbie Reynolds found a well-heeled honey.* I asked the girl for my money back:* After I’d seen “I'm All Right, Jack.” That Summer Divert isement alter dark. The Bard-of-Avon-in-the-Park, Allured me when I didn't go To Yonkers for the Trotting Show* Some movies tried it with perfumes; The Roxy yielded to office rooms. The proposed new Garden for fights and meets. Will accommodate more empty seats. The Tome which ail the critics like Is ‘'Rabbit, Run” by John Updike: And filled with lowly, lit'ry cracks Is S. N. Behrman'x "Portrait of Max.” The next book we may have to face Could bo GuntheHs ‘Inside Outer Space”; And Gallico. no doubt, may soon ’Ave Mr*. ’Arris on the Moon. The Queen of Song was little Connie. Beebee* doesn't speak to Bonnie* "Cliflhaneer" v.; * ’he Word of the Year, Exhumed from Days'? s„ Dead and Dear. The way his caslibox r:ng-a-dings Shows Racing .* the Snort of Kling’s. I should've, p'rrn*. hut didn't sob When I.to didn't w t H.o job.* Harlaok. tin* Jockey King, was crowned. The \ iew lmm my Window's a hole in the ground.® For Xmas Day I sent > it (birds Containing Rhymes Ik n Rival Bards. The Mm-rilo has r. n’.rcl the Gun . . . Happy Nineli en Si--:'\ On(».iO 'Some insisted it \v;:s tin ;■ * Two shows ilmnwd l>.t< K * A Shoe Masiu-.f. * 1 didn't Ret :t. 6 Wlm-h was voi.v sc-ldcn. « Itourne. that i*. 'Of silent pictures. sn-« ilii ally "Ho f. ,hs of rauline 1 As m £ r ol the (h.inis »ThrV ihiEii luMfa b'.-« V hi !e in :ut off fc-.h J..st war, and lfs c-;J)l :htre. 10 We mi uJil hw: so It. DR