You don't gain anything by suspending

It's been almost two years since I last posted here. The main reason for my long absence is that I had lost my appetite for watching classic films and, as a result, for doing this blog. A while ago, however, I started (re)watching classics again and, sure enough, my love for them quickly returned. The fact that the Filmoteca here in Valencia is holding an extensive retrospective on Billy Wilder certainly helps, allowing me to catch both my favourites and some new-to-mes on the big screen. 

In any case, I am back and will try to post here again on a regular basis. 

As I started a new blog last year, I will be dividing my time between my two sites. So whenever I am not here, you may find me at my new place: Letters from Centuries Past.

Now, on to the post!

Jack (left) and Harry Warner; the brothers had a complicated relationship.

Suspending actors as a punitive measure was practised by all the major studios during Hollywood's Golden Age. Roles were not chosen but assigned by the studio, and refusing a role usually meant suspension without pay (with actors also being prevented from seeking work elsewhere). Of the big studios, Warner Bros was among the most rigid in applying suspensions. During World War II, however, as many Hollywood stars joined the war effort, studio president Harry Warner worried that suspensions were hurting the company. In a telegram to his younger brother Jack, dated 7 June 1944, Harry asked him to temporarily stop suspending actors and allow them to play parts of their own choosing ("When the war is over … you can at that time suspend anyone you want— including me, but right now don't cut your nose to spite your face."). Jack Warner was in charge of the studio's day-to-day operations, dealing directly with the stars. He replied to his brother the same day.

[Harry to Jack]

June 7, 1944

After thinking it over, believe you will have to find some way of discontinuing suspending people. If they don't want [to] work in one picture, make some other picture with them, but for goodness sake make a picture. You don't gain anything by suspending, and you just lose a picture with a big drawing star. You must bear in mind that everyone is preaching liberty and freedom and the actors are getting to believe it, and therefore want to play only the parts they want to play. When the war is over and all the actors and help have come back, you can at that time suspend anyone you want—including me, but right now don't cut your nose to spite your face. If it were me and they wouldn't play in one picture then I would have them play in another.

 

[Jack to Harry]

June 7, 1944

Agree with you wholeheartedly about not suspending anyone, but all you have to do is let actors play parts they want to and you won't be in business very long. You must also remember it isn't always they don't want to play parts, but majority times have found they use this as alibi to get more money or rewrite contract. That's my opinion, however will try your method as maybe I am all wet. Also, everybody isn't suspended every time because they don't play in picture. If they were, we wouldn't be making pictures at all. We play ball with them but when people become ornery like [Humphrey] Bogart, [Olivia] De Havilland, this type, you haven't any alternative.

 

Source: Inside Warner Bros. (1935-1951) (1985), selected and edited by Rudy Behlmer

At the time of the telegram exchange, Warner Bros was awaiting the ruling of the appeals court in the Olivia de Havilland case. In August 1943, Olivia had filed a lawsuit against Warners after six months of accumulated suspensions had been added to the length of her contract. While actors usually signed a seven-year contract with their studio, it was common practice for studios to extend the contract with the suspension time —a practice Olivia single-handedly challenged. In November 1943, the court ruled in Olivia's favour, after which Warner Bros immediately appealed. 

On 8 December 1944, the California Court of Appeal upheld the decision of the lower court, again ruling in Olivia's favour. Warners subsequently took the case to the California Supreme Court for review, but their petition was denied. Olivia finally claimed victory in February 1945, with the ruling of the California court becoming state law (still known today as the De Havilland Law). While the suspension policy itself was not abandoned, from then on contracts could no longer be stretched beyond seven calendar years, effectively limiting the studio's power.