Rivalry at Warner Bros: Hal Wallis vs Jack Warner

I haven't posted here for a while, as some of you may have noticed. The reason is that I've been having serious health issues and consequently had to spend a few months in the hospital (five weeks in the ICU even). Luckily I'm doing much better now and, while recuperating at home, I am slowly returning to my old life again. This means that I also want to get back to blogging and continue to share with you interesting stories and correspondence. So, without further ado, let's get on with this post, which involves two of Warner Brothers' key people, Jack Warner and Hal Wallis.

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In 1923, Hal B. Wallis started his career at Warner Bros as an assistant in the publicity department and not before long was appointed chief of publicity. Gradually Wallis involved himself in the production side of the business, to eventually become Warners' head of production in 1928 (being temporarily replaced by Darryl F. Zanuck from 1931 to 1933). Until his departure from the studio in 1944, Wallis was responsible for the production of numerous films, including classics like The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), Dark Victory (1939), The Maltese Falcon (1941), Now, Voyager (1942) and —perhaps the classic of all classics— Casablanca (1942). It was Casablanca that was Wallis' greatest triumph, a film he regarded as his film, having even provided the movie's famous last line ("Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.").

On 2 March 1944 —on the evening of the 16th Oscar ceremony, with Casablanca being nominated in eight categories, among them Best Picture— it became abundantly clear that Warner Bros' studio head Jack Warner had different ideas about whose film Casablanca was. After director Sidney Franklin had announced Casablanca as the Best Picture winner, Wallis rose from his chair to accept the Oscar, only to find that Warner had also stood up and beaten him to the stage. Warner, as studio head, felt that Casablanca was his film and claimed the Oscar on stage, with many people in the audience shocked to see him upstage Wallis like that. The once-close relationship between the two men, which had been tense for some time, was now damaged for good. Shortly afterwards Wallis left Warner Bros to work as an independent producer, his films to be released through Paramount Pictures and later Universal.

Above: Hal Wallis signed a new contract with Warner Bros in January 1942, specifying that "A Hal Wallis Production" or "Produced by Hal Wallis" should appear after the main title of his films. With Casablanca, however, "Jack L. Warner Executive Producer" had been added to the WB logo, even though Warner had nothing to do with the film at all. Below: Jack Warner (left) and Hal Wallis. 

The following telegrams from Jack Warner to Hal Wallis clearly show that by the end of 1943 the relationship between the two had deteriorated. Warner felt threatened by Wallis and complained about not getting the credit he deserved.

November 28, 1943

...per L.A. "Dailey News" Article 23rd, I resent and won't stand for your continuing to take all credit for "Watch on Rhine", "This is the Army", "God is my Copilot", "Princess O'Rourke" and many other stories. I happened to be one who saw these stories, read plays, bought and turned them over to you. You could have at least said so, and I want to be accredited accordingly. You certainly have changed and unnecessarily so.

 

November 30, 1943

Stop giving me double talk on your publicity. This wire will serve notice on you that I will take legal action if my name has been eliminated from any article or story in any form, shape or manner as being in charge production while you were executive producer and in charge production since your new contract commenced. So there will be no misunderstanding it will be up to you to prove and see that my name is properly accredited in any publicity.

The day after Jack Warner had claimed the Best Picture Oscar for Casablanca at the 1944 Oscars, film critic Edwin Schallert wrote in his column about a rivalry between Warner and Wallis. In the following letter to Schallert, Wallis resolutely denied the rivalry, even claiming he "was glad to see Jack Warner accept the award". Of course this was not how Wallis really felt and almost forty years later, in his autobiography Starmaker, the producer described the Oscar incident, saying how Warner's action had left him "humiliated and furious" (excerpt from the book also seen below).

Edwin Schallert
Los Angeles Times 
202 W First Street
Los Angeles Calif

March 4 1944

I have been with Warner Bros for twenty years and during this time it has been customary here as elsewhere for the studio head to accept the Academy Award for the best production. Naturally I was glad to see Jack Warner accept the award this year for "Casablanca" as he did for "The Life of Emile Zola". I am happy also to have contributed my bit toward the making of that picture. Your comment in your column this morning on rivalry at Warner Bros. is totally unjustified. I would be grateful if you would correct the misleading impression created by it ...

Hal B. Wallis

Excerpt from Starmaker: The Autobiography of Hal Wallis (1980) by Hal B. Wallis and Charles Higham:

Matters came to a head that Oscar night. After it was announced that Casablanca had won the Academy Award for Best Picture of the Year, I stood up to accept when Jack ran to the stage ahead of me and took the award with a broad, flashing smile and a look of great self-satisfaction. I couldn't believe it was happening. Casablanca had been my creation; Jack had absolutely nothing to do with it. As the audience gasped, I tried to get out of the row of seats and into the aisle, but the entire Warner family sat blocking me. I had no alternative but to sit down again, humiliated and furious.  

[Eventually, Wallis did receive a Best Picture Oscar for Casablanca.]

 

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

Olivia de Havilland's first Oscar win

On 13 March 1947, the 19th Academy Awards ceremony was held in Los Angeles, honouring the films released in 1946. Olivia de Havilland was one of the nominees in the Best Actress category, being nominated for her role as Jody Norris in Mitchell Leisen's To Each His Own. Also nominated were Celia Johnson for Brief Encounter, Jennifer Jones for Duel in the Sun, Rosalind Russell for Sister Kenny and Jane Wyman for The Yearling. The Oscar eventually went to Olivia, this being her first of two Oscar wins. 

A day before the Oscar ceremony, Margaret Herrick (Executive Secretary of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences) sent telegrams to the Oscar nominees with instructions regarding the ceremony. The following telegram was sent to Olivia.

Source: Bonhams

Olivia de Havilland with Ray Milland at the 1947 Oscars, holding her coveted prize. Olivia would receive a second Best Actress Oscar a few years later, i.e. for her performance in William Wyler's The Heiress (1949). Apart from her two Oscar wins, the actress also received nominations for the 1939 Gone with the Wind (for Best Supporting Actress) as well as Hold Back the Dawn (1941) and The Snake Pit (1948) (the latter two for Best Actress). 

Olivia de Havilland and John Lund in To Each His Own

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As instructed in Margaret Herrick's telegram, after receiving the Oscar for To Each His Own, Olivia exited off stage to meet the press. There to congratulate her was her sister Joan Fontaine who had just presented the Best Actor Oscar. "After Olivia delivered her acceptance speech and entered the wings, I, standing close by, went over to congratulate her as I would have done to any winner", recalled Joan in her 1978 memoir No Bed Of Roses. "She took one look at me, ignored my outstretched hand, clutched her Oscar to her bosom, and wheeled away just as Photoplay's photographer Hymie Fink captured the moment with his camera". The reason for Olivia's rebuffing her sister was reportedly a derogatory comment Joan had made to the press about Olivia's first husband, author Marcus Goodrich ("All I know about him is that he's had four wives and written one book. Too bad it's not the other way around."). The two sisters had a lifelong feud which lasted until Joan's death in 2013.

The infamous picture of the two sisters, shot by Hymie Fink

If you don't win the Academy Award, I'll drown my children

In Love Me Or Leave Me (1955) James Cagney played a gangster for the last time in his career. Directed by Charles Vidor, the film is based on the life story of singer Ruth Etting, focusing on her tempestuous relationship with mobster Martin "The Gimp" Snyder, who was her manager and helped her reach stardom. As "The Gimp", Cagney gave a powerful and nuanced performance, one that was praised by many, including fellow actor Dick Powell in the letter below. Cagney's performance garnered him an Oscar nomination, but he eventually lost to Ernest Borgnine for Marty. 

James Cagney and Doris Day in a scene from Love Me or Leave Me. While Doris shines as Ruth Etting in what was probably the best dramatic performance of her career, she was (shamefully) overlooked by the Academy, not even being nominated.

Source: Heritage Auctions

James Cagney with Dick Powell and Powell's then-wife June Allyson during the Academy Awards ceremony, Los Angeles, 1950. Cagney and Powell made one film together, Footlight Parade (1933).

Oscar For Sale

For those artists lucky enough to win an Oscar, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has strict rules in case winners should ever wish to part with their golden prize. In 1951, the Academy included in the regulations that winners are not allowed to sell their Oscar without first offering it to the Academy for $10 (today the sum is a mere $1). This rule also applies to those who inherited or were gifted an Oscar.

A number of times the Academy has taken legal action when an Oscar was being offered for sale. For instance, in 2014 the Academy found their 1951 rule had been violated when an Oscar was sold at auction by the heirs of art director Joseph Wright, who had won the award for his work on My Gal Sal (1942). Joseph Tutalo, Wright's nephew, had consigned the statuette to Briarbrook Auctions and auction house Nate D. Sanders then bought the Oscar from Briarbrook for $79,200. The Academy subsequently went to court, arguing that although Wright had won the Oscar before 1951 he had kept his Academy membership until his death in 1985, which made the sale illegal. Eventually the judge ruled in the Academy's favour and the Academy reclaimed Wright's Oscar for $10.

Spencer Tracy with his Best Actor Oscar for Boys Town (1938) and Bette Davis with her Best Actress Oscar for Jezebel (1938), the latter Oscar sold at auction in 2001 to an anonymous bidder (who turned out to be Steven Spielberg).

Oscars have been sold succesfully in the past, though. For instance, in 1999 David Selznick's Best Picture statuette for Gone with the Wind (1939) was sold to Michael Jackson for a whopping $1.5 million, a trophy that unfortunately went missing years after Jackson's death (I couldn't find information whether it's turned up yet). Magician David Copperfield bought Michael Curtiz's 1943 Casablanca Oscar for $232,000 in 2003 and made a huge profit when he sold it at auction for more than $2 million ten years later. And director Steven Spielberg purchased several Oscars, including Clark Gable's 1934 Oscar for It Happened One Night (for $607,500 in 1996) and Bette Davis' 1938 Best Actress trophy for Jezebel (for $578,000 in 2001). However, Spielberg didn't buy these trophies for himself but, for the sake of preserving film history, returned them to the Academy instead.

Since 1951 Oscar winners are obliged to sign a document saying they won't sell their trophy without offering it to the Academy first. Here is the "Receipt for Academy Award Statuette" signed by Audrey Hepburn in May 1954, after she had won her Best Actress Oscar for Roman Holiday.

Via: Rare Audrey Hepburn (original source: The Audrey Hepburn Treasures)

Audrey Hepburn with the only Oscar of her career

Postponing the Oscars

Four times in Oscar history, the awards ceremony was not held as scheduled but postponed to a later date. The first time was in 1938 due to the floods in Los Angeles; the second time in 1968 after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King; again in 1981 after the assassination attempt on President Ronald Reagan, and finally last year due to the Covid crisis. 

Sammy Davis Jr. and Martin Luther King sharing a laugh in 1965

The 40th Academy Awards ceremony was scheduled for 8 April 1968 but eventually took place two days later. On 4 April Dr. Martin Luther King had been assassinated and many stars wanted to attend his funeral which was held on 9 April. Among the stars were four African-Americans who were to take part in the Oscar ceremony, i.e. Sammy Davis Jr., Louis Armstrong, Sidney Poitier and Diahann Carroll (the first two as performers, the latter two as presenters). The four had informed the Academy that they would not appear at the Oscars if the scheduled date of 8 April was maintained. On The Tonight Show Davis stated: "I certainly think any black man should not appear. I find it morally incongruous to sing Talk To The Animals while the man who could make a better world for my children is lying in state." (Talk To The Animals was the nominated song from Doctor Dolittle which Davis would perform at the ceremony and which eventually won the Oscar for Best Song.) Faced with the possible absence of several of the ceremony's key players, Gregory Peck, then president of the Academy, held an emergency meeting with the Board of Governors who unanimously decided to postpone the Oscars by two days. With the news of the delayed ceremony, Davis, Poitier, Armstrong and Carroll all announced their return to the show. 

Someone who also wanted the Oscars to be postponed was Barbra Streisand, who was also scheduled to be a presenter at the ceremony. This is the telegram Barbra sent to Gregory Peck two days after King's assassination.

Source: oscars.org

Barbra Streisand with Gregory Peck at the 1969 Golden Globes

The Short-Lived History Of Oscar Write-Ins

For two years in Oscar history —in 1935 and 1936— the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences allowed its members to vote for anyone they chose, even when that person was not officially nominated. Reason for the Academy to permit these write-in votes was the public outrage that occurred over the snub of Bette Davis' performance in RKO's Of Human Bondage (1934). Bette's powerful and daring portrayal of the coarse waitress Mildred was unanimously praised by critics, audiences and Hollywood celebs alike, with Life magazine even calling it "probably the best performance ever recorded on the screen by a U.S. actress". The fact that Bette wasn't among the Best Actress nominees led to a huge uproar and a write-in campaign followed to have her nominated anyway. (Even Norma Shearer who herself was nominated for The Barretts of Wimpole Street supported the campaign.)

Among the general public there were many people shocked by the omission of Bette from the list of Oscar nominees. A man named James Fitzgerald sent this letter to the movie fan magazine Movie Classic, showing his indignation and calling on others to also make themselves heard.

 

Source: Movie Classic via archive.org

In order to put an end to all the criticism, several days after the announcement of the nominations the Academy decided to change the rules and issued a statement: "Despite the fact that the criticism fails to take into consideration that the nominations have been made by the unrestricted votes of each branch, the awards committee has decided upon a change in the rules to permit unrestricted selection of any voter, who may write on the ballot his personal choice for the winner." Bette Davis became the only write-in nominee that year but eventually lost to Claudette Colbert for her performance in It Happened One Night. When Bette did win the next year for her role in Dangerous, she called the Oscar her consolation prize for losing out with Of Human Bondage.

The next year, write-in votes were again allowed and there was one studio that decided to go all in. Studio boss Jack Warner encouraged all Academy members among his employees to submit write-ins for Warner Bros. films. This resulted in unofficial nominations in seven different categories, including Michael Curtiz for Best Director in Captain Blood and Paul Muni for Best Actor in Black Fury (Warners being the only studio that year with write-in nominees). Warners' active campaigning eventually paid off when the unofficially nominated Hal Mohr (see photo) took home the Oscar for Best Cinematography in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Technical issues of write-in voting aside, the Academy realised that this kind of voting was not the way to go, seeing how easy it was for studios to manipulate the system and win Oscars. (It was later revealed that write-in nominees Muni and Curtiz had come close to beating the eventual winners Victor McLaglen and John Ford, who both won for The Informer.) 

Write-in voting was thus abandoned a year later and Hal Mohr remains the only write-in winner in Oscar history.

Tying at the Oscars

Oscar ties rarely happen. Of the 92 times the Oscars have been awarded, there were only six ties. Four times the ties occurred in minor categories: 

1950 (22nd Oscars) – Best Documentary Short Subject: A Chance To Live (Richard De Rochemont and James L. Shute) and So Much For So Little (Chuck Jones and Edward Selzer) 

1987 (59th Oscars) – Best Documentary Feature: Artie Shaw: Time Is All You’ve Got (Brigitte Berman) and Down And Out In America (Joseph Feury and Milton Justice)

1995 (67th Oscars) – Best Live Action Short Film: Franz Kafka’s It’s a Wonderful Life (Peter Capaldi and Ruth Kenley-Letts) and Trevor (Peggy Rajski and Randy Stone)

2013 (85th Oscars) – Best Sound Editing: Skyfall (Per Hallberg and Karen Baker Landers) and Zero Dark Thirty (Paul N.J. Ottosson) 

Twice in Oscar history the tie happened in a major acting category. The first time was in November 1932 at the 5th Academy Awards, when both Fredric March and Wallace Beery took home the prize for Best Actor. March won for his role in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Beery for The Champ. Technically, March alone should have won since he got one more vote than Beery. At the time, however, the Academy rules stipulated that if a fellow nominee came within three votes of the winner, both would get the Oscar. By 1950, the rules had been changed, and only if candidates received the exact same number of votes it would qualify as a tie.

Wallace Beery (far left) and Fredric March with their Oscars, pictured here with Lionel Barrymore and Master of Ceremonies Conrad Nagel.

Another tie occurred on 14 April 1969 at the 41st Academy Awards, which is now the best-known tie in Oscar history. In the Best Actress category there were two actresses who had received exactly 3,030 votes each, i.e. Katharine Hepburn for her role as Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine in The Lion in Winter and Barbra Streisand for her debut film performance as Fanny Brice in Funny Girl. Presenter Ingrid Bergman was shocked and surprised after she opened the envelope, exclaiming: "The winner... it's a tie!" It was Hepburn's 11th Oscar nomination and her third win. (She had previously won for Morning Glory (1933) and for Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1967) and would even win a fourth Oscar for On Golden Pond (1981).) Hepburn never came to the ceremony to receive her Oscar  —"As for me, prizes are nothing. My prize is my work", she once said—  and on this occasion it was the film's director Anthony Harvey who received the Oscar on her behalf. Of course newcomer Barbra Streisand did show up and was very happy with her prize, as can be seen in this clip.

Veteran Katharine Hepburn and newcomer Barbra Streisand in their Oscar-winning roles (above) and Streisand receiving her prize while Anthony Harvey accepts Hepburn's (below).

Following the Oscar tie, Hepburn sent Streisand a congratulatory telegram. Unfortunately I don't have this wire to show you, but below you'll find Streisand's reply to Hepburn. Streisand concludes her note jokingly with the remark "Do you have start singing as well!!!", referring to Hepburn's first and only Broadway musical Coco which would premiere later that year. Hepburn had no illusions when it came to her singing and reportedly later said: "I sound like Donald Duck". (Watch Hepburn as Coco Chanel here; she starts singing 8:15 minutes into the clip.)

Source: oscars.org

Transcript:

Dear Kate — (I feel I should still call you Miss Hepburn)
How very nice of you to send me such a lovely wire —
I, too, am most honored to share this with you —
but, there's one question I have to ask —
It's tough enough being in the same business with you—
but, do you have to start singing as well !!!!
with much admiration
Barbra

The Oscar thing has deteriorated into a sickening mess

This summer I saw My Fair Lady (1964) on the big screen for the first time which was an absolute joy. Rewatching the film, however, I still found it hard to believe that Audrey Hepburn wasn't even nominated for an Oscar for her delightful portrayal of Eliza Doolittle. The snub is one of the biggest nomination snubs of all time and I can imagine how devastated Audrey must have been.

Someone who was outraged by the Academy's failure to nominate Audrey was Deborah Kerr. Deborah was a friend of Audrey's and, according to Audrey biographer Barry Paris, one of the very few friends Audrey had in the film industry. Both women lived in Switzerland, not very far from each other. About her friendship with Audrey, Deborah said in later years: "To the world it may not have seemed that constant or deep an association, but we became very close even though we didn't see each other much. I couldn't say, 'She was my best friend in my whole life'. Yet in a way, perhaps she was." 

When Deborah learned about Audrey not being nominated for My Fair Lady, she wrote Audrey the following letter expressing her shock and anger at the injustice of the Oscar snub. Calling the Oscars a "sham", "hypocritical" and a "sickening mess", I'm sure Deborah conveyed the feelings of many of Audrey's colleagues and friends. In her letter Deborah also mentions Patricia Neal who had just suffered three strokes while pregnant; Audrey would replace Patricia as one of the presenters at the Oscar ceremony to be held a month later (read more about that here). 

Source: Christie's

Transcript:

Friday March 5th [1965]

My darling Aud-

Our life was such a hectic and horrible rush before leaving Klosters a week ago, that I did not have time to write and tell you how positively stunned amazed and shocked and disgusted and 'you name it', we* both were at your not being nominated. If I started to go into all that I feel - all the resentment and boiling anger I entertain for the whole sham - hypocritical - sickening mess the Oscar thing has deteriorated into in these last years, I would take pages, and bore the hell out of you as well!! It is enough to say darling that we feel for you so very much, because however philosophical one is, however one says one doesn't really care, ONE DOES!! And it hurts. But then one starts to think of that tragic Pat Neal, and all her children + her poor husband [Roald Dahl], and one knows that the Oscar is an eye-drop in this world of pain and madness.

Darling one - we send very very much love, and Pedro Amarillo Sucio is no longer Amarillo but still Sucio!

Fondly + affectionately

Deborah

* "We" undoubtedly refers to writer Peter Viertel whom Deborah married in July 1960 and with whom she lived in Klosters, Switzerland.

Above: Audrey and Deborah with Deborah's husband Peter Viertel, ca. 1965. Below: Audrey and Deborah were jointly voted "Best Actress of the Broadway Season 1953-1954" in a poll of the New York Drama Critics, i.e. Audrey for her role in Ondine and Deborah for Tea and Sympathy; here Deborah visits Audrey backstage during the run of Ondine.

I am only just emerging from a small nightmare....

If I hadn't come across the following note from Audrey Hepburn to George Cukor, I never would have known about this interesting bit of Oscar trivia. Audrey wrote to Cukor after the 37th Academy Award Ceremony (which took place in April 1965), where Cukor was presented with the Oscar for Best Director for My Fair Lady (1964). In her letter, Audrey first talks about Cukor's Oscar and then continues to say that she just woke up from a small nightmare: "... the idea that I might have hurt Pat.... is agonizing."

So what happened?

Patricia Neal ("Pat") had won the Oscar for Best Actress for her performance in Hud the year before, and as the Oscar tradition goes, the previous year's winner of the Best Actress Oscar presents the Oscar to the current year's Best Actor. However, Patricia had suffered three strokes earlier that year (at age 39 while pregnant) and at the time of the Oscar ceremony was still recovering at home. To present the Best Actor award, Audrey was asked to replace Patricia. So when the time came for Audrey to give out the award to her My Fair Lady co-star Rex Harrison, Patricia, who was watching the Oscar ceremony on television with then-husband Roald Dahl, expected Audrey to say something about her. In her 1988 autobiography As I Am, Patricia recalled: "I had been told that Audrey Hepburn would bestow the honor in my place and I couldn't wait to hear all the nice things she would say about me. "There! There!" I pointed to the TV when Audrey was introduced. ... But suddenly she was handing Rex Harrison his award, and she hadn't said a thing about me. It had to be a mistake. I pounded on the table with my good hand. "God! God! Me! Not me!""

Audrey Hepburn and Patricia O'Neal on the set of Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961), their only film together. During production of the film the two had gotten along well.

Patricia was very angry and upset about Audrey's failure to mention her. Husband Dahl later told the press: "She thought it bloody well stunk. She and Audrey have known each other for a long time. And Audrey didn't even call until the day after the ceremonies— and that was after I think someone told her Pat was hurt. Audrey had to leave on a one o'clock plane so she didn't have time to see Pat either. Had we not sent the telegram to Bob Hope from Pat at the awards, there probably would have been no mention of her at all." 

When she learned about Patricia being hurt, Audrey was naturally devastated. She called Patricia to apologise and also sent her a gift to make amends. According to Audrey biographer Barry Paris, Patricia said years later: "The incident at the Academy Awards occurred under enormous pressure and has long since been forgotten. Audrey sent me a fabulous porcelain rose, which was very good of her. I guess it just didn't occur to her that night. I suppose she was distracted. One never knows how these things happen." Audrey was indeed under a lot of pressure that night, handing out the Best Actor Award while being greatly upset about not having been nominated herself. She had been in doubt whether to go to the ceremony or not, but when asked to replace Patricia she simply couldn't refuse.

So here is Audrey's note to her dear friend George Cukor which made me aware of the incident in the first place. Audrey first expresses her happiness over Cukor's first and only Oscar win before briefly mentioning the incident with Patricia. (Incidentally, after having been nominated for an Oscar four times, i.e. for Little Women (1934), The Philadelphia Story (1941), A Double Life (1948) and Born Yesterday (1951), with My Fair Lady Cukor finally got his prize.)

Source: icollector

Transcript:

Dearest George,

Once again there are no words to discribe [sic] the joy of staying with you—and what made it really great is that you now have a permanent solid gold houseguest Oscar by name—I wonder if you know the happiness you gave all your friends by winning it. 

I must tell you that I am only just emerging from a small nightmare…. the idea that I might have hurt Pat…. is agonizing. Who was right or wrong did not seemed [sic] to matter, only she mattered to me. So…. I am sorry that I did not once again thank you during our last minute talk. Would you darling George give this note to Irene? I send you all my love. Audrey

This post is my contribution to the 31 Days of Oscar Blogathon, hosted by ONCE UPON A SCREEN, OUTSPOKEN AND FRECKLED and PAULA'S CINEMA CLUB.  Be sure to check out all the other entries too!

I got it in the bathroom!

With the leading role in Anastasia (1956) Ingrid Bergman made her American comeback after she had spent years in Italy making films with Italian filmmaker Roberto Rossellini. Bergman had been forced to stay in Italy due to her affair with Rossellini and the major scandal it caused in the U.S. in 1949 (read more here). But in 1956, Bergman separated from Rossellini and, after being considered persona non grata in the U.S. for years, returned to the American screen with Anastasia and immediately won her second Oscar. 

On 27 March 1957, Cary Grant accepted the Oscar on Bergman's behalf during the 29th Academy Award ceremony. (Bergman herself was in Paris at the time starring in the French adaptation of the play Tea and Sympathy.) Bergman and Grant had become very good friends since they had worked together on Hitchock's Notorious (1946), and Grant was also one of the few people in Hollywood who had defended and supported Bergman during the Rossellini scandal. So it was only natural for Bergman to ask her dear friend to accept the award on her behalf in case she won. Of course, Grant willingly accepted and you can watch his acceptance speech here.

Above: Ingrid Bergman and her good friend Cary Grant who accepted the Oscar for Anastasia on her behalf; Bergman and Grant made two movies together: Notorious (1946 and Indiscreet (1958). Below: Yul Brynner and Bergman in a scene from "Anastasia", a film directed by Anatole Litvak.

Below: Backstage at the 29th Oscar ceremony with Anthony Quinn (Best Supporting Actor for Lust for Life), Dorothy Malone (Best Supporting Actress for Written on the Wind), Yul Brynner (Best Actor for The King and I) and Cary Grant holding Ingrid Bergman's Oscar for Best Actress for Anastasia.

The letter for this post is a letter from Ingrid Bergman to Cary Grant written in Paris on 29 March 1957, two days after the Oscar ceremony. Bergman thanks her friend for accepting the award for her and for the sweet words he spoke at the ceremony. She also tells him that, despite having given interviews to the press all day, she only fully realised that she had won the Oscar when she was in the bathroom hearing his voice on the radio.

Source: theacademy.tumblr.com/ from the Cary Grant papers at the Margaret Herrick Library

Transcript:

Paris 29-3-1957

My dear Cary, my wonderful friend:

I got the news about the award in the morning at 6 o'clock. I said on the phone: "I got it?" The answer was yes--- and I fell asleep again. This seems a very indifferent way of accepting an Oscar, but I was full of sleeping pills so that I could go through the night! A couple of hours later I was awakened and what seems to me 1000 photographers. The whole day I did nothing but answer questions in all languages about how I felt. I really felt a very dull happiness and was only hoping the day would end. Finallay [sic] it was over and I went to my room to take a bath and to see Tola and celebrate -in peace- the evening. I hear a scream and my 7 year old son rushes into the bathroom with the radio in his hands, yelling "Mama, they are talking about you". He came in just as I heared [sic] my name mentioned and the roar of the public in Hollywood. It was a transmission -on wire- with a French commentator about the awards. In the back of the commentator I heared your voice. You said something about "if you can hear me now" and "wherever you are the [sic] the world" and I said "I am here, Cary, in the bathroom!"And then you gave me the good wishes and I could hear all the people cheer. That was the moment I really received the Oscar and I felt tears coming to my eyes. Having known about it all day, but still not GETTING it, I GOT it in the bathroom! What a place to get an Oscar! Nothing could have made me happier than that you took it and I thank you for the sweet words you said. How lucky that I heard them, it was all due to my little boy! 

With my love,

Ingrid (signed)

Note

Bergman's first Oscar was for her leading role in Gaslight (1944), and she would win a third Oscar for her supporting role in the 1974 Murder on the Orient Express.

They will have little time to worry about getting their salaries cut

In 1927, MGM's big boss Louis B. Mayer decided to found an organisation that would settle labour disputes without unions. To discourage writers, directors and actors to get organised and start demanding pensions, health benefits etc., Mayer got together with a group of industry people and created the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (AMPAS). While initially focusing on labour issues, the Academy soon decided to also give out annual awards for achievements in filmmaking (again at the suggestion of Mayer). Of the several committees AMPAS formed in those early days, one of them was the committee for Awards of Merits. This committee would be instrumental in shaping the awards and the awards ceremony, with its efforts ultimately leading to the first ceremony being held on 16 May 1929. The "award of merit for distinctive achievement", then presented in 12 categories, is now of course known as the Academy Award or by its nickname Oscar. 

In the 1920s, Darryl F. Zanuck, mostly known as producer and executive for Twentieth Century Fox, was under contract to Warner Brothers. He wrote stories for the successful Rin-Tin-Tin series, and also wrote more than 40 scripts under pseudonyms before becoming a producer. On 7 November 1927, Zanuck wrote a letter to Frank Woods (secretary of AMPAS), discussing the Awards of Merit committee, apparently after Woods had talked about it in his letter to Zanuck. Zanuck calls the committee "a marvelous thing for the Industry", as the awards would surely keep the minds of writers and directors busy and keep them from worrying about their salaries. Zanuck also makes flippant nomination suggestions, putting forward Rin-Tin-Tin as "most popular player". The implication in Zanuck's letter that there was an ulterior motive for creating the Oscars has at one time been corroborated by Louis B. Mayer himself: "I found that the best way to handle [filmmakers] was to hang medals all over them [...] If I got them cups and awards they'd kill themselves to produce what I wanted. That's why the Academy Award was created." [source]

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Transcript:

November 7th, 1927

Mr. Frank Woods, Secretary,
Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences,
6912 Hollywood Boulevard
Hollywood, Calif.

Dear Frank:

Your letter received and digested. I think this Awards of Merits committee is a marvelous thing for the Industry, as it will cause so many arguments and discussions among the various directors and writers who did or did not get the award that they will have little time to worry about getting their salaries cut.

Now that the salary cut is all over with, we need some topic like this to start discussing, and I want to congratulate you and your Board of Directors for thinking of such a wonderful subject to keep the minds of the writers and directors busy for the next six months.

My nominations for the award of merit are as follows:

Producer -- Jack L. Warner.
Asssociate Producer -- Darryl Francis Zanuck
Director -- Any Warner Brothers Director (Same to be selected by drawing straws.)
Writer -- Any writer under contract to Warner Brothers.
Most popular player -- Rin-Tin-Tin

Will you kindly submit this list to the balance of the committee, so that we may get together on same.

All kidding aside, I think the magazine committee functioned quite well in their first issue, and I would certainly appreciate the invitation to donate an article to one of the forthcoming issues. Once upon a time, I too was a magazine subscribe, and it looks like this magazine is going to give me an opportunity to prove it.

Sincerely yours,

Darryl Zanuck (signed)


Note: 
The Academy's magazine for which Zanuck hoped to write an article was very short lived. The November 1927 issue was the first and only issue of the magazine.

Darryl F. Zanuck, studio boss Jack Warner, Rin Tin Tin and Lee Duncan (the dog's owner).

A fitting tribute to your judgement and courage

With a little more than a week to go until Oscar night, here is a short letter from an Oscar winner to a fellow winner. On 26 February 1942, John Ford and Darryl F. Zanuck both won the coveted statuette for their work on How Green Was My Valley, respectively for Best Director and Best Picture. In the following (undated) letter to Zanuck, Ford congratulates the producer on his well-deserved prize, knowing what problems Zanuck had in getting the film made (see note below). Ford was serving as a commander in the U.S. Naval Reserve at the time, thus signing his letter with "Cmdr. John Ford USNR".

Image courtesy of Heritage Auctions.

Transcript:

Dear Darryl,

Congratulations on the Award for "How green was my valley". It was a well deserved choice. Even you+ I will admit that. It was a fitting tribute to your judgement + courage. I know what a scrap you had with the company about its production-- well you won!
Please grant me a favor. Would you have a miniature Oscar made up for me as a memento? You know quarter size- "best production" etc? Would appreciate it and it looks like a long time before I compete again.

Hoping you are in the best of health + with kindest regards
I am
yr old servant
Jack

Cmdr John Ford USNR
Kaneohe Naval Air Station
Oahu T.H.

John Ford (left) with young Roddy McDowall (who played the role of Huw) and screenwriter Philip Dunne on the set of "How Green Was My Valley".

Darryl F. Zanuck

Note
When How Green Was My Valley was well into pre-production, Zanuck's bosses at 20th Century Fox decided to pull the plug on the film. Unhappy with the script that focused too much on labour issues, and also dissatisfied with the first director William Wyler who they feared would not stay within budget, Fox executives in New York refused to put up the money for the project. Zanuck was furious and fought hard for his film, even threatening to take it to another studio. Eventually Fox gave in, and John Ford was brought in to replace Wyler. (Wyler, who had been borrowed from Samuel Goldwyn and whose contract with Fox had expired anyway, went back to Goldwyn to direct The Little Foxes.)