By Stephen Schochet
Hollywood
was an attractive place for the early filmmakers to settle,
full of good weather, orange and lemon trees. For producers
who owed money on borrowed camera equipment if a creditor came
after them, they could hide among the trees. It was a hard business
full of causalities and took a pirate's mentality to survive.
Most of the studio heads were from poor backgrounds, with limited
English skills and never forgot their childhood or a personal
slight. Included were Jack, Harry, Albert and Sam, the four
Warner Brothers from Youngstown, Ohio. They had begun with showing
movies off the side of a tent in Youngstown, borrowing all the
chairs from the local undertaker. Every time there was a funeral
in Youngstown, they had to give all the chairs back and the
film patrons were forced to stand.
As
a boy Jack Warner wished to be a singer and a comedian. His
brothers, recognizing his lack of talent instructed him to sing
in the tent when they wanted the audience to leave. He was later
advised that the money was not in performing, it was in paying
performers. Among the stars that would be under contract to
him would be Betty Davis, James Cagney, Humphrey Bogart and
Errol Flynn.
The
silent days were a struggle for Warner Bros. Rin Tin Tin, a
German shepherd that according to his publicity was born in
a foxhole in World War I, was their biggest star. Heroic as
he might have been on the screen, he proved to be, like many
stars, cantankerous in person. Jack Warner took the dog on a
publicity tour. As he introduced him to the crowd, his ungrateful
employee bit him on the behind, leading to the dog's dismissal.
It proved to be a prelude to Warner's many future battles with
stars.
Trying
to make a name for themselves, the four brothers got great publicity
by announcing that the renowned opera tenor Caruso would be
arriving from Italy to make a film for them. They paid him 25,000
dollars and then put him in a silent movie.
The
movie studios had the technology to make talking films years
before they made them. One of the reasons why they resisted
the idea was that they didn't want to risk losing their overseas
market. Silent Film Stars like Charlie Chaplin, Douglas Fairbanks and Mary
Pickford rarely ever had a flop as their films were shown around
the world and knew no language barriers. But in 1926 the silent
films faced their biggest competition with a new device called
the radio. As movie attendance dwindled the studio heads shut
their eyes and pretended the radio was not there. But the Warners
lead by the ambitious Sam, decided to push the envelope and
try to save their sinking studio by experimenting with movie
sound.
Sam
purchased an experimental sound system called Vita-phone. They
then acquired the rights to The Jazz Singer, a popular play
about a young man who had a beautiful voice and is offered a
Broadway career against the wishes of his Old World Jewish father.
In the play the son gave in to his father but the Warner's,
wishing to reach a wider audience, Americanized the story by
having the son follow his own dreams. Star Al Jolson adlibbed
the dialogue," Wait a minute, wait a minute you ain't heard
nothing, yet!" The Warner's were only intending singing
but at the last minute they impulsively kept the line in the
film. The Jazz Singer received a standing ovation when it premiered
in New York in 1927 and went on to make three and half million
dollars at a time when admission costs 20 cents. The sound revolution
was under way!
Movie
audiences had often been loud and noisy while watching silent
films. Now the theater's got quiet as people strained to hear
every word. Movie Theater's had to be rewired for sound, costing
major studios like Paramount and Fox millions of dollars. Movies
now had to film mostly at night as any passing truck noise could
ruin a sound recording. Nervous Silent Film Stars began consulting astrologists and tarot card readers to foretell their futures. " How boring!" said Mary Pickford.
"At first we moved! Now everyone is standing around talking!"
One enterprising actor was hired for one day's work. When the
director wasn't looking he let a bunch of crickets loose on
the set. It was five days before the crew could round up the
chirping crickets, and the actor kept on hold received five
times the paycheck.
Stephen Schochet tells Hollywood Stories on radio, audiobooks, tours and speaking engagements. To hear more tales go to http://www.hollywoodstories.com.