There are loyalties that are greater than the loyalties of friendship

Louis B. Mayer and Irving Thalberg first met in November 1922. Thalberg, who was working for Universal Pictures, made a deep impression on Mayer and a few months later was appointed vice-president in charge of production at Mayer's production company, Louis B. Mayer Pictures. In 1924, the company merged with Metro Pictures Corporation and Goldwyn Pictures to form Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and 25-year-old Thalberg was made part owner and also vice-president and head of production of the new company. Thalberg and Mayer worked well together, Thalberg's ability to combine high quality with commercial success and Mayer's shrewd business sense proving a winning combination. In a few years' time, MGM would become the most successful studio in Hollywood, some of the studio's earlier successes being He Who Gets Slapped (1924), The Merry Widow (1925) and Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (1925). 

Although Mayer and Thalberg initially got along, their relationship became increasingly strained. By the fall of 1932, Thalberg had come to resent the fact that Mayer and his New York boss, Nicholas Schenck, were getting rich off what he felt were essentially hís successes. Thalberg wanted to take a year off —suffering from depression following the death of his friend Paul Bern— but when Schenck offered him a generous 100,000-share stock option he could not refuse. Mayer, despite being Thalberg's superior, only got 80,000 shares. The stock deal worsened the relationship between Thalberg and Mayer, leaving the latter's ego deeply hurt. Thalberg's growing power and success made Mayer feel increasingly threatened, even more so after an article was published in Fortune magazine in December 1932, depicting Thalberg as the guiding force behind MGM while barely acknowledging Mayer. 

Irving Thalberg, Lillian Gish and Louis B. Mayer in 1926

Then things suddenly changed on Christmas morning 1932 when Thalberg —born with a heart disease and once told he wouldn't live beyond thirty— suffered a heart attack. In order to keep the studio run smoothly, Mayer hired David O. Selznick (his son-in-law) as producer at MGM, giving him his own independent production unit. Thalberg was furious and felt betrayed, thinking that Mayer took advantage of his illness and intended to replace him with Selznick. Although he wasn't being replaced, Mayer would eliminate Thalberg's position of head of production. When Thalberg returned to work in August 1933 (after an extended trip to Europe), MGM had been reorganised and, like Selznick, Thalberg was given a production unit of his own. Several other producers also got their own production units, men who had previously been Thalberg's subordinates like Walter Wanger and Hunt Stromberg. Demoted from head of production to unit producer, Thalberg went along with the new system as long as he didn't have to answer to Mayer. While Selznick and the others were to report to Mayer, Thalberg would report directly to Schenck.

Despite his considerable loss of power, Thalberg continued to make successful films, among them such classics as Mutiny on the Bounty (1935), A Night at the Opera (1935) and Camille (1936). His relationship with Mayer, however, would never be the same. Thalberg biographer Roland Flamini said that what had once been a "friendly rivalry" had "soured into animosity and then degenerated into enmity".

Thalberg won the Oscar for Best Picture for Mutiny on the Bounty (1935), here photographed with Clark Gable and director Frank Capra at the Oscars of 1936. Click here to see and hear Thalberg accept the award from Capra. Thalberg had won the Best Picture Oscar twice before, for The Broadway Melody (1929) and Grand Hotel (1932).

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On 23 February 1933, while Thalberg was recovering from his heart attack and about to depart on an extended journey to Europe, Mayer wrote him the following letter. He wanted to restore his relationship with Thalberg after their last meeting had ended in a heated argument and loss of temper. Producer David Selznick had just been hired by Mayer behind Thalberg's back, leaving Thalberg feeling angry and betrayed. As said, the episode caused a rift between Mayer and Thalberg that would never be repaired.

 

Dear Irving: 

I cannot permit you to go away to Europe without expressing to you my regret that our last conference had to end in a loss of temper, particularly on my part. It has always been my desire to make things as comfortable and pleasant for you as I knew how, and I stayed away from you while you were ill because I knew if I saw you it was inevitable that we would touch on business, and this I did not want to do until you were strong again. In fact I told Norma [Shearer] to discourage my coming to see you until you felt quite well.  

It is unfortunate that the so-called friends of yours and mine should be only too glad to create ill feeling, and attempt to disrupt a friendship and association that has existed for about ten years. Up to this time they have been unsuccessful, but they have always been envious of our close contact and regard for each other.  

If you will stop and think, you cannot mention a single motive or reason why I should cease to love you or entertain anything but a feeling of real sincerity and friendship for you. During your absence from the Studio, I was confronted with what seems to me to be a Herculean task, but the old saying still goes —“The show must go on.” Certainly we could not permit the Company to go out of existence just because the active head of production was taken ill and likely to be away from the business for a considerable length of time. I, being your partner, it fell to my lot, and I considered it my duty and legal obligation under our contract, to take up the burden anew where you left off, and to carry on to the best of my ability . . . . 

I regret very much that when I last went to see you to talk things over I did not find you in a receptive mood to treat me as your loyal partner and friend. I felt an air of suspicion on your part towards me, and want you to know if I was correct in my interpretation of your feeling, that it was entirely undeserved. When I went to see you I was wearied down with the problems I have been carrying, which problems have been multiplied because of the fact that the partner who has borne the major portion of them on his shoulders, was not here. Instead of appreciating the fact that I have cheerfully taken on your work, as well as my own, and have carried on to the best of my ability, you chose to bitingly and sarcastically accuse me of many things, by innuendo, which I am supposed to have done to you and your friends. Being a man of temperament, I could not restrain myself any longer, and lost my temper. Even when I did so I regretted it, because I thought it might hurt you physically.  

Regardless of how I felt, or what my nervous condition was, I am big enough to apologize to you, for you were ill and I should have controlled my feelings.  

I am doing everything possible for the best interests of yourself, Bob [MGM attorney Robert Rubin], myself, and the Company, and I want you to know just how I feel towards you; and, if possible, I want you to divest yourself of all suspicion, and believe me to be your real friend, and to know that when I tell you I have the greatest possible affection and sincere friendship for you, I am telling the truth.  

I hope this trip you are about to make will restore you to even greater vigor than you have ever before enjoyed, and will bring you back so that we may work together as we have done for the past ten years. 

And now let me philosophize for a moment. Anyone who has said that I have a feeling of wrong towards you will eventually have cause to regret their treachery, because that is exactly what it would be, and what it would be on my part if I had any feeling other than what I have expressed in this letter towards you. I assure you I will go on loving you to the end.  

I am going to take the liberty of quoting a bit of philosophy from Lincoln. This is a quotation I have on my desk, and one which I value highly: “I do the very best I know how, and the very best I can, and I mean to keep doing so until the end. If the end brings me out right, what is said against me won’t amount to anything. If the end brings me out wrong, ten angels swearing I was right, will make no difference.”  

I assure you, Irving, you will never have the opportunity of looking me in the eye and justly accusing me of disloyalty or of doing anything but what a good friend and an earnest associate would do for your interest, and for your comfort.  

If this letter makes the impression on you that I hope it does, I should be awfully glad to see you before you go and to bid you Bon Voyage. If it does not, I shall be sorry, and will pray for your speedy recovery to strength and good health.  

With love and regards, believe me, 

Faithfully yours, 

Louis

Thalberg responded two days later.

 

Dear Louis:  

I was deeply and sincerely appreciative of the fact that you wrote me a letter, as I should have been very unhappy to have left the city without seeing you. I was indeed sorry that the words between us should have caused on your part a desire not to see me, as I assure you frankly and honestly they did not have that effect on me. We have debated and disagreed many times before, and I hope we shall many times again. For any words that I may have used that aroused bitterness in you, I am truly sorry and I apologize.  

I’m very sorry that I have been unable to make clear that it has not been the actions or the words of any—as you so properly call them—so-called friends, whose libelous statements were bound to occur, that have in any way influenced me. If our friendship and association could be severed by so weak a force, I am sure it would long ago have been ruptured by that source. There are, however, loyalties that are greater than the loyalties of friendship. There are the loyalties to ideals, the loyalties to principles without which friendship loses character and real meaning, for a friend who deliberately permits the other to go wrong without sacrificing all—even friendship—has not reached the truest sense of that ideal. Furthermore, the ideals and principles were ones that we had all agreed upon again and again in our association, and every partner shared equally in the success that attended the carrying out of those principles.  

I had hoped that the defense of those principles would be made by my three closest friends [presumably Mayer, Schenck and Rubin]. I say this not in criticism, but in explanation of the depths of the emotions aroused in me, and in the hopes that you will understand. I realize with deep appreciation the effort you have been making for the company and in my behalf, and no one more than myself understands the strain to which you are subjected.  

Believe me, you have my sympathy, understanding and good wishes in the task you are undertaking; and no one more than myself would enjoy your success, for your own sake even more than for the sake of the company.  

Please come to see me as soon as it is convenient for you to do so, as nothing would make me happier than to feel we had parted at least as good personal friends, if not better, than ever before.  

Irving

 

Source: Irving Thalberg: Boy Wonder to Producer Prince (2009), by Mark A. Vieira

Despite their broken friendship, Thalberg and Mayer remained civil and polite to each other, at least in their letters. Not only the letters above show the courtesies between them, but also the following letter written by Mayer to Thalberg on 31 December 1933. Mayer expresses his wish to "get closer and closer in [his] association" with Thalberg in the new year, and also says he will do anything to make Thalberg's work "light and pleasant". However, it was Mayer who stonewalled Thalberg in preparing his first films as a unit producer. Thalberg found that writers and actors he wanted to work with were suddenly unavailable, assigned elsewhere by Mayer. Also, Mayer had blocked Thalberg's access to MGM's best directors, so for Riptide (1934) Thalberg had to look outside the studio and eventually hired freelancer Edmund Goulding. 

Source: Bonhams

Sunday

Dear Irving

First many thanks for your beautiful gift, when away from home I will think of you. Tomorrow starts the New Year and hope you shall not know of illness. We have much to be thankful for, as for instance your health, that financially we pulled through, but my prayer and fervent hope is that commencing with 1934 we shall get closer and closer in our association. Depend on me to do all in my power to make your task as light and pleasant as lies within my [power].

[signed 

"Faithfully and sincerely Louis B."]

_______

On 14 September 1936, Thalberg suddenly died of pneumonia, only 37 years old. Mayer was very saddened by Thalberg's death and said that he had lost "the finest friend a man could ever have". It must be noted, however, that according to IMDB "some Hollywood observers believe that Mayer was relieved by Thalberg's untimely death, though he professed a great deal of grief publicly...." Whether false or true, after Thalberg's passing Mayer appointed himself head of production in addition to being studio head. Without Thalberg MGM continued to thrive, and it was under Mayer's leadership that a few years later MGM released Gone with the Wind (1939), the story once rejected by Thalberg who famously said: "No Civil War picture ever made a nickel".

Thalberg with wife Norma Shearer and Mayer in 1932

Dear Mr. Mayer

Lionel Barrymore had a good relationship with his boss Louis B. Mayer, having first worked for Mayer at Metro Pictures and then at MGM from 1926 onwards. In his 1951 memoir We Barrymores Barrymore claimed that, in spite of what people generally believed, Mayer was nót "a cold and shrewd executive who dangles careers on strings, plays with actors like puppets, and discards them when they begin to unravel around the edges". In his book the actor also said that Mayer often got him out of financial trouble. Barrymore owed a sizable amount to the IRS in income taxes and spent years paying off his debt. Whenever he asked Mayer for financial aid, his boss was there for him: "And so, when it often happened that I had exhausted the patience of the paymasters, I would hurry up to Mr. Mayer's office. "Lionel's on his way," they would telephone upstairs. "Tell the boss to get ready." He was always ready. He counseled me without scolding, got me out of this predicament and that, succored me from the Federal dicks when my income taxes threatened to mount to jailworthy heights, and reached for a checkbook and salvation when necessary. "

Mayer also helped Barrymore with a different problem. After a broken hip injury in 1936 combined with his arthritis, Barrymore was always in pain and by 1938 he was confined to a wheelchair. In order to cope with the pain Mayer provided Barrymore with cocaine ("L.B. gets me $400 worth of cocaine a day to ease my pain. I don’t know where he gets it. And I don't care. But I bless him every time it puts me to sleep.").

Barrymore remained a MGM contract player during his entire film career and was only occasionally loaned out to other studios.

1939 - Lionel Barrymore celebrates his 61st birthday at MGM in the company of his boss Louis B. Mayer (with glasses) and fellow actors (l-r) Mickey Rooney, Norma Shearer, Robert Montgomery, Clark Gable, William Powell, Rosalind Russell and Robert Taylor.

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Strapped for cash, Lionel Barrymore wrote the following letter to Louis B. Mayer around 1935, asking his boss to give him his full salary that month. MGM normally deducted a large portion from Barrymore's paycheck to pay his bills and debts.

Source: Buddenbrooks

Transcript:

Dear Mr. Mayer

I don't want to take up your time seeing you with so many others waiting. 

Also it's difficult if not impossible for me to get the time off the set - so I write to save time.

It would be of immeasurable help to me if the company would forgo my payments for a month, so I could get my full salary for a month - as my payment of five hundred to the pauper status and odd bits to government etc. leaves me very little to maneuver with- but in a month several items would have been paid.

Will you please leave word with Miss Koverman [Mayer's personal secretary] and I will stop in after we finish tonight - with many thanks

Lionel Barrymore

Fields would probably make better Micawber

Published in 1850, Charles Dickens' David Copperfield is an autobiographical novel which was also the author's personal favourite. The story follows the life of David from childhood into young adulthood, during which he encounters hardship, abuse, poverty but also love and happiness as he meets an array of vivid characters. It was a big wish of producer David O. Selznick to adapt David Copperfield for the screen, a novel he had cherished since childhood. Selnick's Russian father had learned English by reading the novel and had next read it to his sons. Initially, MGM boss Louis B. Mayer saw nothing in Selznick's idea to turn the book into a film but Selznick —at the time under contract to MGM— eventually convinced Mayer to okay the project. Subsequently, Selznick hired Hugh Walpole to adapt the story from Dickens' novel and Howard Estabrook and Lenore J. Coffee to write the screenplay. George Cukor was hired to direct.

It took a bit of effort to cast some of the film's pivotal roles. Selznick and Cukor extensively searched in the USA, Canada and the UK for a child actor to play young David. While Mayer had wanted MGM child actor Jackie Cooper, Selznick was adamant about casting a British youngster in order to stay true to the novel. In 1934 on a scouting trip to London, Selznick and Cukor eventually found young Freddie Bartholomew and gave him the part.

The casting of Mr. Micawber was a different story. While W.C. Fields, who eventually played Micawber, had been under consideration from the start, it was Charles Laughton who was Selznick and Cukor's first choice. Laughton had just won the Best Actor Oscar for The Private Lives of Henry VIII (1933) and would be the most important and bankable name in the large cast. Amid much publicity, Laughton was given the role but after just two days of shooting he wanted to be released from it. Having lost his confidence and convinced he was all wrong for the part, Laughton was eventually dismissed. Cukor said Laughton just didn't know how to play Micawber, lacking the geniality that was required. (According to cameraman Hal Kern, in the rushes Laughton "looked as if he was going to molest the child".) 

Selznick now set out to hire Fields and borrowed him from Paramount. Although Fields wasn't right physically —with his head shaven Laughton had "looked Micawber to the life", said Cukor— he was quite eager to play the role, despite his dislike of working with children. Fields was a Dickens fan and David Copperfield is the only film where he followed the script and refrained from ad-libbing. Although his contract stipulated he should speak with a British accent, the actor wouldn't drop his American accent and in his defense later said: "My father was an Englishman and I inherited this accent from him! Are you trying to go against nature?!"

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Laughton in 1933

Regarding the casting of the Micawber role David Selznick wrote several memos, two of which are seen below. The first one was sent to Louis B. Mayer in May 1934 and the second one several months later (in September) to MGM executive Robert Rubin. As stated above, it is generally believed that Laughton himself wanted to be released from the film, a viewpoint that was also shared by Laughton biographer Simon Callow. Selznick's memo to Rubin, however, suggests that other factors led to Laughton's dismissal, having to do with costs as well as "certain difficulties" the actor experienced with MGM. (What those "difficulties" with MGM were, I don't know. As for the costs, Selznick was afraid that they would be "impossible" if he had to wait for Laughton to finish the Paramount film Ruggles of Red Gap (1935); during rehearsals Laughton had fallen ill with a rectal abscess and spent a number of weeks hospitalised, causing the picture to be delayed.)

 

MAY 17 1934 

LONDON

TO: L.B. MAYER

...MUST KNOW WHAT CHANCE CHARLES LAUGHTON FOR ROLE OF MICAWBER. FEEL MORE THAN EVER VITAL IMPORTANCE OF BENDING EVERY EFFORT TO SECURE HIM, BUT MUST KNOW WITHIN FEW DAYS SO CAN DECIDE WHETHER TO SIGN ANOTHER MICAWBER. IF LAUGHTON UNAVAILABLE FOR MICAWBER, MIGHT LIKE W.C. FIELDS. CAN WE GET HIM? TO AVOID NECESSITY OF TRYING PARAMOUNT, THINK WE SHOULD GET WORD TO FIELDS DIRECT, WHO WOULD PROBABLY GIVE EYE TOOTH TO PLAY MICAWBER ... CORDIALLY

DAVID

SEPTEMBER 27, 1934

J. ROBERT RUBIN

1540 BROADWAY

NEW YORK, N.Y.

CONFIDENTIALLY, ENTIRELY POSSIBLE WE WILL NOT, IN SPITE OF EVERYTHING WE WENT THROUGH, BE ABLE USE CHARLES LAUGHTON IN "COPPERFIELD" BECAUSE HIS ILLNESS HAS DELAYED HIS PARAMOUNT PICTURE AND IF WE WAITED UNTIL HE FINISHED THAT, COST WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE. ALSO WE ARE HAVING CERTAIN DIFFICULTIES WITH HIM. WHAT I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW IMMEDIATELY IS WHETHER IF IT COMES TO ISSUE, HOW MUCH DIFFERENCE COMMERCIALLY WOULD THERE BE HAVING W.C. FIELDS INSTEAD OF LAUGHTON? IT OF COURSE NOT CERTAIN WHETHER WE CAN OBTAIN FIELDS, BUT AM RAISING QUESTION IN HOPE WE COULD. FIELDS WOULD PROBABLY MAKE BETTER MICAWBER, BUT WE'VE ALWAYS FELT WE REQUIERED THE ONE IMPORTANT NAME IN CAST IN LAUGHTON. WOULD YOU CHECK THIS IMMEDIATELY WITH FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC SALES DEPARTMENTS AND ADVISE ME. REGARDS

DAVID SELZNICK 

 

Source:  Memo from David O. Selznick (1972); selected and edited by Rudy Behlmer. 

1934 - Selznick & Co on their return from England after a "David Copperfield" work visit. Left to right: Peter Trent (who was considered for the role of the adult David but eventually lost the part to Frank Lawton), screenwriter Howard Estabrook, Irene Mayer Selznick and David O. Selznick, Hugh Walpole (who adapted the story from Dicken's novel and also played the vicar in the film), George Cukor and Fritz Lang (who had just been signed by Selznick to a MGM contract).  

Freddie Bartholomew as young David and WC Fields as Mr. Micawber in a publicity still for David Copperfield. Upon its release in January 1935, the film was a big success with both critics and audiences. It was nominated for three Academy Awards, including Academy Award for Best Picture (losing to Mutiny on the Bounty).

The Decline of Buster Keaton's Career

In 1928, Buster Keaton signed a contract with MGM which he later called the biggest mistake of his career. Until then he had been working as an independent filmmaker, enjoying great artistic freedom in the making of his shorts and feature films. Charlie Chaplin and Harold Lloyd had warned Keaton beforehand that he would lose his independence if he signed with MGM, and they were right. While Keaton could still film his first MGM feature The Cameraman (1928) his own way, this would all change. The actor/filmmaker, who was used to working without a proper script, soon had to deal with dozens of writers, script conferences and in the end was given merely script material he hated. Keaton did go along with the studio's wishes but by the time What! No Beer? (1933) was filmed, he had sunk into a deep depression, causing him to drink excessively. When he failed to meet his commitments, MGM fired him.

Following his dismissal by MGM, Keaton made a few films in Europe before returning to Hollywood to make a series of shorts for Educational Pictures and later for Columbia Pictures (after which Keaton vowed never to make "another crummy two-reeler" again). He was rehired by MGM in the late 1930s, this time as a gag writer, providing material for the Marx Brothers, Red Skelton and Laurel & Hardy. Keaton appeared in a cameo role in Sunset Boulevard (1950) and also had small roles in In the Good Old Summertime (1949) and Chaplin's Limelight (1952). He loved television and in the 1950s the medium revived his career and provided him with steady work, even with a tv show of his own (i.e. The Buster Keaton Show). Television also helped rekindle the interest of the public in Keaton's silent films. In 1959, Keaton received an Academy Honorary Award ("for his unique talents which brought immortal comedies to the screen”) and the Venice Film Festival also honoured him in 1965 for his contributions to the film industry.

Buster Keaton, "The Great Stone Face". As an independent fimmaker he made shorts like One Week (1920), The Goat (1921) and Cops (1922), and among his feature films are Sherlock Jr. (1924), Seven Chances (1925), The General (1926) and Steamboat Bill Jr. (1928).

Buster Keaton at work as a gag writer for MGM with above The Marx Brothers (Groucho and Chico) and below Red Skelton. The collaboration between Buster and the Marx Brothers did not always go smoothly. When Groucho told him his gags were not compatible with the Marx Brothers' humour,  Buster answered, "I'm only doing what Mr. Mayer asked me to do. You guys don't need help."

Buster Keaton never again enjoyed the successes he had in the 1920s. The mid-1920s saw him at the height of his career, earning $3,500 a week while building a $300,000 house for his first wife, actress Natalie Talmadge. His descent into alcoholism and depression —after MGM had taken away his creative control— coincided with the crumbling of his marriage to Talmadge, which ended in divorce in 1932. By the mid-1930s, Keaton was broke (Talmadge having extravagantly spent his money) and filed for bankrupcy. While he would earn a decent living in the decades to come, unlike Charlie Chaplin and Harold Lloyd, Keaton didn't own the rights to his own films and never became a millionaire. Still, he was a content man —in 1940 he married his third wife, MGM dancer Eleanor Norris, to whom he remained happily married until his death in 1966— and looking back on his life said in 1960: "I think I have had the happiest and luckiest of lives. Maybe this is because I never expected as much as I got ... It would be ridiculous of me to complain. I count the years of defeat and grief and disappointment, and their percentage is so minute that it continually surprises and delights me."

Shown below is an Internal Revenue Service tax form (W-4), filled out and signed by Buster Keaton in June 1943. At the time he was working as an uncredited gag man for MGM and requested to be exempted from paying income taxes. Keaton often had tax problems and in 1933, following his bankrupcy, even owed the IRS $28,000 in back taxes (today's equivalent is about $630,000). Also shown is an agreement between MGM and Keaton, concerning Keaton's two-day leave in June 1945 for which he didn't get paid.

Source: Heritage Auctions

Source: Heritage Auctions

Above: Buster Keaton with his third wife Eleanor Norris who is credited with saving his life and career. Norris, 23 years younger than Keaton, was a contract dancer at MGM. When the two met in 1938, Keaton was working as a gag consultant and still having bouts with alcoholism. Norris helped him to get his alcohol consumption under control. During the marriage, the couple toured European circuses together doing vaudeville acts and also performed together on The Buster Keaton Show. They were happily married for 26 years until Keaton's death of lung cancer in 1966. Norris played an important role in keeping Keaton's legacy alive after his death. (And in case you're wondering who Keaton's second wife was— she was his nurse Mae Scriven, whom he married in 1933 during an alcoholic blackout; they divorced in 1936.) Below: Buster on television, early 1950s. 

She is an extremely clever little artist

In September 1935, 13-year-old Judy Garland signed a seven-year contract with MGM at a starting salary of $100 a week. It would take some time, however, before Judy made her first feature film for the studio. Her debut film Pigskin Parade (1936) was on loan-out to 20th Century-Fox and her first MGM appearance was in the musical short Every Sunday (1936) with Deanna Durbin. It wasn't until 1937 that MGM finally put her into her first feature film, Broadway Melody of 1938, starring Eleanor Powell and Robert Taylor. In the film Judy sang You Made Me Love You (I Didn't Want to Do It) to a photograph of Clark Gable, her performance turning her into an overnight success. 

About a year earlier, in June 1936, while still waiting to be cast in her first film, Judy was sent by MGM on a promotional tour to New York City. It was her first visit to the Big Apple, during which she made several appearances on the Rudy Vallee radio show and recorded Stompin' at the Savoy with Decca Records (the first single she ever released). Furthermore, Judy paid a visit to MGM's New York offices, where she met executives like Nicholas Schenck and MGM representative Florence Browning.

Before Judy left for New York, Ida Koverman had given her a letter of introduction to take with her and give to Miss Browning at MGM. Koverman was executive secretary to MGM's boss Louis B. Mayer and is regarded as one of the most powerful women in Hollywood during the 1930's and 40's. She was a big supporter of Judy and was also the one who had convinced Mayer to sign her. Koverman's letter to Browning, in which she has nothing but good things to say about young Judy, is seen below. Also shown is a letter from Judy to Koverman after she had just arrived in New York as well as Koverman's reply. (Incidentally, in her letter to Browning, Koverman said that Judy was twelve years old although she was about to turn fourteen.)

Transcript:

June 1st, 1936

Dear Florence:

This will be presented to you by little Judy Garland, who is under contract to us. 

She is twelve years old and an extremely clever little artist. Her mother, who will be with her, plays her accompaniments, and I hope you will be able to arrange to hear her sing a few numbers. She is really a marvellous child. 

Her agent is taking her East to try to book her in some of the theatres, and I think it would be very wise to have someone connected with our office see the child before she gets into an opposition house. 

She sings very well and is an excellent dancer, and does the Eleanor Powell routines, and is a little genius.

In addition to this she is a dear little thing, and I am devoted to her. I know you will like her too.

Sincerely yours, 

Miss Florence Browning,

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Corporation,

1540 Broadway,

New York City.

Transcript: 

June 5, 1936

Dear Mrs. Koverman-

We arrived today in New York. I could hardly wait to write you to tell you how thrilled and dazed I am. 

We were at the M.G.M. offices today and saw Miss Florence, Mr. Rubin, Mr. Schenck and so forth. They were all so lovely to me. 

I hope my singing pleased them. 

Thank you so much for your letter to Miss Florence. It helped me so much and I sincerely appreciate it. 

As you have found out I certainly don't take any medles [sic] for writting [sic]. 

Please forgive it

Nothing else to say except thank you again

Sincerely yours

Judy

P.S Have you Jackie Copper's [sic] address? 

I forgot to get it before I left and he told me to be sure to write to him.

Please, if you have time, answer this.

Transcript:

June 8, 1936

My dear Judy:

I was very glad to get your nice little note, and to know you are having such a thrilling time. I was sure you would like Miss Florence Browning -- she is a very fine person, and I am sure also that your singing pleased them all.

We all miss you very much and certainly will be glad to see you when you return. Do write and let me know all that happens to you.

With kindest regards to your mother and Mr. Rosen [Judy's agent], and much love to yourself, I am 

Sincerely yours,

IRK (signed)

P.S. Jackie Cooper's address is 141 South Grand Avenue, Santa Monica.

Miss Judy Garland

Edison Hotel

47th and Broadway

New York City 

Source letters: Bonhams

Two days late but still — Happy 100th Birthday, Judy!

Ida R. Koverman

What I want to know is, is that April Fool?

Often dubbed "First Lady of the American Theatre", Helen Hayes made her Broadway debut in 1909 at age nine and by the time she was twenty, she was well on her way to become a big Broadway star. Throughout the 1920s, Hayes appeared in successful plays like Caesar and Cleopatra (1925) and Coquette (1927) and, as her star rose, it didn't take long for Hollywood to come calling. Hayes declined several studio offers but then the Great Depression hit, causing theatre attendance to drop dramatically. When MGM offered her a lucrative seven-year contract in 1931 —with the possiblity to periodically perform on Broadway— Hayes felt she had little choice but to accept. 

In her 1990 memoir My Life in Three Acts, Hayes wrote that MGM didn't really know what do with her. "I didn't have [Joan] Crawford's bone structure or [Greta] Garbo's mystery. I wasn't sexy like [Jean] Harlow or naughty like Marion [Davies], and I didn't have the figure to carry off clinging white satin like Norma [Shearer]. There were so many things I didn't have or wasn't, that it seemed best for me to quit then and there. But Mr. Mayer had an idea. I would be promoted as "The Great Actress"." 

MGM put Hayes into melodramas and her first film was The Sin of Madelon Claudet (1931), for which she immediately won the Oscar for Best Actress. Next she played in dramas such as Arrowsmith (1931) with Ronald Colman; A Farewell to Arms (1932) with Gary Cooper; and The White Sister (1933) opposite Clark Gable. It was after she had starred in the romantic comedy What Every Woman Knows (1934), with Brian Aherne and Madge Evans, that Hayes made the decision not to stay in Hollywood but to return to the stage.

What Every Woman Knows was based on the 1908 play of the same name by J. M. Barrie and in 1926 Hayes had starred in a Broadway revival of the play. The play was very special to Hayes, her role in it one of her favourite stage roles. She had high hopes for the film version but after reading the script her hopes were immediately crushed. "Barrie's delicate comedy had been torn apart in the most insensitive way", Hayes later said. "I protested, but was told to stick to acting and let others worry about writing and directing." After the film was finished and Hayes saw the preview, it left her devastated. It was then that she decided to leave Hollywood for good.

Above: Brian Aherne, Madge Evans and Helen Hayes in a scene from What Every Woman Knows. Below: (left to right) Hayes in Arrowsmith with Ronald Colman, in A Farewell to Arms with Gary Cooper and Vanessa: Her Love Story with Robert Montgomery.

Wishing to be released from her contract, Hayes went to see Eddie Mannix, MGM's general manager. She thought MGM was glad to be rid of her but Mannix wouldn't let her go. He told her that she still had a contractual obligation to do Vanessa: Her Love Story (1935) and if she refused, MGM would sue her for the $96,000 that was already spent on pre-production. Hayes saw no other option but to make Vanessa, in which she co-starred with Robert Montgomery. 

While Hayes did have a few years left on her contract, MGM had assured her they wouldn't hold her to it. Imagine her surprise then when she received a letter from Eddie Mannix in April 1935, saying that "Metro had renewed [her] option". Clearly annoyed, the actress replied:

Source: Heritage Auctions

Vanessa: Her Love Story  remained Hayes' last film for MGM. Hayes would return to Hollywood but not until 1952 —after a 17-year absence— to star in Leo McCarey's My Son John. Sporadically she accepted other film offers, most notably Anastasia (1956) and Airport (1970). It was for her performance as a stowaway in the latter film that Hayes received her second Oscar, this time for Best Supporting Actress.

Helen Hayes with her Oscar for Best Actress for her performance in the 1931 The Sin of Madelon Claudet .

I personally feel that audiences are waiting to see you in a smart, modern picture

In 1935, while under contract to MGM, David O. Selznick was assigned to produce the next Greta Garbo picture. After being head of production at RKO, Selznick had joined MGM in 1933 and was given his own production unit, alongside the unit headed by Irving Thalberg. Prior to his film with Garbo, Selznick had already produced a string of successful films for MGM, including Dinner at Eight (1933) and David Copperfield (1934).

Greta Garbo was already a star by the time she and Selznick worked together. With her role in Anna Christie (1930) Garbo had made a successful transition from silent films to talkies and other successes soon followed, like Mata Hari (1931) and Grand Hotel (1932). For her project with Selznick the actress wanted to play the titular role in a new film adaptation of Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. Garbo had played Anna in the 1927 silent film Love but, unhappy with the film's tacked-on ending, she was eager to reprise the role in a production that would stay closer to Tolstoy's novel.

Selznick was far from enthusiastic, however, about making Anna Karenina with Garbo. He very much wanted her to play in a contemporary drama and the project he had in mind was Dark Victory, a 1934 play written by George Brewer Jr. and Bertram Bloch, which had starred Tallulah Bankhead on Broadway. Trying to convince Garbo to choose Dark Victory over Anna Karenina, Selznick wrote her a letter in January 1935, his impassioned plea ultimately proving fruitless. Garbo didn't like Dark Victory and was intent on doing Anna Karenina. Seeing that her contract gave her the right to decline any project she disliked, Selznick had no choice but to accept Garbo's decision.

Above: Greta Garbo as Anna Karenina and Fredric March as Count Vronsky in David Selznick's production of Tolstoy's famous novel. Below the two actors are pictured on the set, with director Clarence Brown seated.

This is the letter Selznick wrote to Garbo, who at the time was vacationing at La Quinta near Palm Springs. Needing an immediate answer, Selznick had his letter hand-delivered to the actress by her close friend, screenwriter Salka Viertel.

January 7, 1935

Miss Greta Garbo

La Quinta, California

Dear Miss Garbo:

I was extremely sorry to hear this morning that you had left for Palm Springs, because we must arrive at an immediate decision, which, I think, will have a telling effect on your entire career.

As I told you the other day, we have lost our enthusiasm for a production of Anna Karenina as your next picture. I personally feel that audiences are waiting to see you in a smart, modern picture and that to do a heavy Russian drama on the heels of so many ponderous, similar films, in which they have seen you and other stars recently, would prove to be a mistake. I still think Karenina can be a magnificent film and I would be willing to make it with you later, but to do it now, following the disappointment of Queen Christina and The Painted Veil, is something I dislike contemplating very greatly.

Mr. Cukor shares my feeling and it seems a pity that we must start our first joint venture with you with such a lack of enthusiasm and such an instinct of dread for the outcome. If we make the picture, Mr. Cukor and I will put our very best efforts into it and I am sure we could make a fine film, hopefully one excellent enough to dissipate the obvious pitfalls of the subject from the viewpoint of your millions of admirers. But I do hope you will not force us to proceed.

We have spent some time in searching for a comedy and although several have been brought to me, there are none I feel sufficiently important enough to justify the jump into comedy; to say nothing of the difficulty of preparing a comedy in the limited time left to us.  

Therefore, since you feel that you must leave the end of May and cannot give us additional time, we have been faced with the task of finding a subject that could be prepared in time and which might inspire us with a feeling that we could make a picture comparable to your former sensations and one that would, at the same time, meet my very strong feeling that you should do a modern subject at this particular moment in your career. The odds against our finding such a subject were very remote and I was very distressed and felt there was no alternative left to us but to proceed with Karenina. Now, however, I find that if I act very quickly, I can purchase Dark Victory, the owners of which have resisted offers from several companies for many months. The play is at the top of the list at several studios and if we do not purchase it, the likelihood is that it will be purchased at once for Katharine Hepburn. The owner of the play, Jock Whitney, is leaving for New York tomorrow and it would be a pity if we were delayed in receiving your decision concerning it .... Therefore, I have asked Salka to see you and to bring you this letter and to tell you the story— which I consider the best modern woman's vehicle, potentially, I've read since A Bill of Divorcement and which I think has the makings of a strikingly fine film. Mr. Cukor and many others share this opinion .... 

Fredric March will only do Anna Karenina if he is forced to by his employers, Twentieth Century Pictures. He has told me repeatedly that he is fed up on doing costume pictures; that he thinks it a mistake to do another; that he knows he is much better in modern subjects and that all these reasons are aggravated by the fact that Anna Karenina would come close on the heels of the Anna Sten- [Rouben] Mamoulian- [Samuel] Goldwyn picture, We Live Again, from Resurrection [Leo Tolstoy's 1899 novel], a picture which has been a failure and in which March appeared in a role similar to that in Karenina. Mr. March is most anxious to do a modern picture and I consider his judgment about himself very sound. We are doubly fortunate in finding in Dark Victory that the male lead is also strikingly well suited to Mr. March.

For all these reasons, I request and most earnestly urge you to permit us to switch from Anna Karenina to Dark Victory and you will have a most enthusiastic producer and director, respectively, in the persons of myself and Mr. Cukor.

I have asked Salka to telephone me as soon as she has discussed the matter thoroughly with you, and I can say no more than that I will be very disappointed, indeed, if you do not agree with our conclusions. 

Most cordially and sincerely yours, 

 

Source: Memo from David O. Selznick (1972); selected and edited by Rudy Behlmer.

_____

Selznick purchased the rights to Dark Victory and tried to get Merle Oberon for the female lead after Garbo had turned it down. Oberon was not available, however, and since Selznick was also facing problems with the script he eventually sold the property to Warner Bros in 1938. In the end, Dark Victory (1939) was made with Bette Davis and George Brent in the leads. Directed by Edmund Goulding, the film was a big hit.

Garbo got what she wanted and made Anna Karenina (1935) with Selznick. As her leading man Fredric March was cast, against his own wishes but at the insistence of his studio. (Selznick initially wanted Clark Gable but he was not interested.) Since George Cukor was not keen on doing the project, Clarence Brown was hired to direct. Anna Karenina became both a critical and commercial success. The film is the only collaboration between Selznick and Garbo. 

Above: Selznick in his MGM offices, ca. 1933-1935, photographed by Clarence Sinclair Bull. After doing Anna Karenina, Selznick made one more film for MGM (A Tale of Two Cities) and then quit to found his own production company, Selznick International Pictures. Below: Bette Davis and George Brent in the weepie Dark Victory in roles Selznick had originally envisaged for Greta Garbo and Fredric March. Bette plays the socialite Judith Traherne who suffers from a brain tumour and Brent is Frederick Steele, the doctor she falls in love with.

Just so you won’t forget that I love you dear

By the mid-1920s, Norma Shearer was one of MGM's biggest stars and had every intention to remain one. For that purpose she regularly visited the office of Irving Thalberg (head of production at MGM), complaining about the routine films in which she was cast and pleading to be given better roles. Thalberg listened to Norma's complaints but said that MGM knew best and that the films they had chosen for her had ultimately made her a star.

Attracted from the start by Thalberg's charm and commanding presence, Norma soon became romantically interested in her boss. While Thalberg didn't feel the same way about Norma, the two started going out together from July 1925 onwards (their first public appearance together was at the premiere of Charlie Chaplin's The Gold Rush). At the time Thalberg was still involved with Constance Talmadge and Rosabelle Laemmle, yet on occasion asked Norma to be his date. "When Rosabelle or Constance are away, or someone stands him up, I'm always available. I'll break a date any time to be with him", Norma had said to Irene Selznick, referring to herself as "Irving's spare tire". Norma waited patiently, which eventually paid off. After dating on and off for two years, she and Irving were married on 29 September 1927 and had two children, Irving Jr. (b. 1930) and Katharine (b. 1935). The marriage lasted until 1936 when Thalberg suddenly died as a result of a congenital heart defect, aged 37.

In 2011, a group of more than 40 telegrams exchanged between Norma and Thalberg was auctioned at Bonhams, offering an intimate peek into the couple's relationship. A few of these telegrams are seen below. The messages clearly suggest that the two were in love, despite rumours that their marriage had been one of convenience. (A persistent rumour was that Norma had married her boss purely for the sake of her career.) The first telegram is from Thalberg to Norma and was sent in April 1927, five months before the couple got married. The other three messages —two of them shown only in transcript— are from 1929. 

Transcript:

SANTA MONICA CALIF APRIL 21 1927

MISS NORMA SHEARER

ARROWHEAD SPRINGS CALIF

JUST SO YOU WONT FORGET THAT I LOVE YOU DEAR

IRVING

_______

A telegram from Irving to Norma dated 16 March 1929: 

DEAREST CUTEST SWEETNESS DARLING ANGEL BUNNY HOPE YOU HAVE MISSED ME AS I HAVE MISSED YOU LOVE PAPA 

Another telegram from Irving to Norma dated 22 December 1929: 

HAVE FORD TRUCK FROM STUDIO MEET US PASADENA FIND OUT HOW LATE TRAIN IS SO LITTLE CUTIE DON'T WAIT LOVE=IRVING 

To this Norma responded with the following message (written on the back of the telegram):

Transcript:

Will be counting every minute sweetest little fella 

whats the truck for Eddie Loeb [MGM attorney]

I’ll find out how late the train is going to be honey 

+ I’ll sue the railroad for every minute 

Love from your lonesome baby little momma

Source: Bonhams

In order to marry Thalberg, Norma first converted to Judaism. The couple married at the Temple B'nai Brith in Beverly Hills. Above is their certifcate of marriage, dated 29 September 1927. Witnesses to the wedding were MGM boss Louis B. Mayer and studio attorney Edwin J. Loeb. (Source: Heritage Auctions)