Book Review: Letters from Hollywood

Letters from Hollywood: Inside the Private World of Classic American Moviemaking is a gem of a book. Compiled and edited by author/producer Rocky Lang and film historian/archivist Barbara Hall, this beautiful-looking hardcover volume contains 137 pieces of classic Hollywood correspondence (letters, notes and telegrams), spanning five decades from the early 1920s through the 1970s. The correspondence not only comes from famous Hollywood stars like Bette Davis, Humphrey Bogart, Greta Garbo or Joan Crawford, but also from people less known to the general public yet important to Hollywood history, e.g. Irving Thalberg, Will Hays and Joseph Breen. (And there are also letter writers and recipients I had never heard of, among them screenwriters and agents.) Introducing the letters, authors Lang and Hall provide ample background information so the reader understands the context in which they were written.

Below: Rocky Lang grew up in the film business having agent-turned-producer Jennings Lang and singer/actress Monica Lewis as parents (here they are photographed in 1968). When a letter from his father to agent H.N. Swanson was discovered, Rocky got the idea for Letters from Hollywood and also included his father's letter in the book.

For three years, Lang and Hall worked on the project, first searching archives and libraries for interesting correspondence and then trying to track down the copyright owners, which proved to be more difficult than they thought. Their hard work eventually resulted in a book that is beautifully designed (lovely book cover, great lay-out and beautiful hi-res images of the original correspondence), with the letters providing chronological snippets of Hollywood history as well as fascinating peeks into the private thoughts of some of Hollywood's biggest stars, directors, producers etc.. Perhaps not surprisingly, I am very excited about this book -- it's basically what I do on the web, but then presented in glorious book form -- feeling it's a must-have for classic Hollywood fans and a great addition to any film book collection.

Some of the letters in the book I was already familiar with, having posted them earlier on this blog. However, most of the correspondence was unknown to me as it was obtained from archives, libraries and private collections and thus hidden from the general public - until now. Not all the letters are equally interesting of course, but there are a lot of gems and to give you an idea, below are excerpts from some of my personal faves.

________

Ronald Colman to studio executive Abe Lehr about the transition to the talkies (August 1928):

With reference to the additional clause to the contract, - I would rather not sign this, at any rate just at present. Except as a scientific achievement, I am not sympathetic to this "sound" business. I feel, as so many do, that it is a mechanical resource, that it is a retrogressive and temporary digression in so far as it affects the art of motion picture acting, - in short that it does not properly belong to my particular work (of which naturally I must be the best judge).

Tallulah Bankhead to David Selznick about the Scarlett O'Hara role in Gone with the Wind (December 1936):

I want you to believe me when I say this letter is not written in any spirit of hurt, arrogance, or bad temper, and if these elements should creep in, it is only because I haven't a sufficient gift of words to express myself clearly. [...] As I see it, your wire to me means one thing- that if no one better comes along, I'll do. Well, that would be all well and good if I were a beginner at my job. It would be a wonderful thing to hope and wait for, but as this is not the case, I cannot see it that way, and I feel it only fair to tell you that I will not make any more tests, either silent or dialogue, for Scarlett O'Hara, on probation.

Hedda Hopper to friend Aileen Pringle about Citizen Kane (January 1941):

I've seen the picture, and it's foul. It doesn't leave Mr. Hearst with one redeeming feature. Nobody but Orson would have dared do a thing like that, and I personally hope it will never be shown on the screen, although they're going right ahead making plans for its release in February. 

Robert Sherwood to Samuel Goldwyn about writing the script for Glory for Me, later renamed The Best Years of Our Lives (August 1945):

I have been thinking a great deal about "Glory for Me" and have come to the conclusion that, in all fairness, I should recommend to you that we drop it. This is entirely due to the conviction that, by next Spring or next Fall, this subject will be terribly out of date. [...] I do not believe that more than a small minority of these men will still be afflicted with the war neuroses which are essential parts of all of the three characters in "Glory for Me", and I, therefore, think that this picture would arouse considerable resentment by suggesting that these three characters are designed to be typical of all returned servicemen.

Gilbert Roland to Clara Bow to whom he was once engaged (December 1949):

How is your Dad? I would like to see him. I always had a warm spot in my heart for him, even though many years ago he refused to let me marry you because I was making seventy-five dollars a week, and you three hundred -- and when I made three hundred, you made a Thousand, and when I made a thousand you made more. ad finitum, and so it goes, and that's the way it is...

Joan Crawford to friend Jane Kesner Ardmore about her meeting Queen Elizabeth and Princess Margaret in the company of Marilyn Monroe and Anita Ekberg (October 1956):

It was one of the most exciting moments I have ever had. Of course, I was not too happy about being presented with that group of people representing the Motion Picture Industry, such as Marilyn you-know-who, and Anita Ekberg. Incidentally, Marilyn and Anita were howled at because of their tight dresses - they could not walk off the stage. It was most embarrassing.

Paul Newman to William Wyler & Ray Stark after having been offered the male lead in Funny Girl (May 1967):

I am grateful for the offer and the interest, and I hope it doesn't seem like an act of arrogance to turn all that affection down, but the truth of the matter is that I can't sing a note, and as for that monster, the dance, suffice it to say that I have no flexibility below the ass at all -- I even have difficulty proving the paternity of my six children.

If you would like to read the entire letters and many more (in their original form) -- you can order a copy of Letters from Hollywood here or here.

Note

Rocky Lang contacted me in January 2018, asking if I knew of any letters that he and Barbara Hall might be able to use for their project. I made several suggestions and some of it ended up in the book. While my input is quite small, I am proud to have contributed to this great, unique book -- and seeing my name in the Acknowledgment section is pretty cool! 

Elia Kazan and HUAC: I believe what I did was necessary and right

Despite being one of the great American directors, Elia Kazan will always be remembered for his damaging testimony before the House on Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) on 10 April 1952, a testimony which would taint his reputation for the rest of his life. During his first testimony earlier that year in January, Kazan had refused to name the names of people who had been members of the Communist Party with him during the 1930s. In order to avoid being blacklisted, however, Kazan testified again a few months later, this time volunteering the names of eight of his old friends (including Clifford Odets and Paula Strasberg), thereby destroying careers.

Kazan decided to cooperate with HUAC so he could continue making films. While he was an established stage director and could have kept working if he had been blacklisted —the blacklist didn't have much effect on Broadway — he didn't want to focus on the stage any longer, wishing to make motion pictures instead. To his close friend, playwright Arthur Miller, Kazan said prior to his testimony: "I hate the Communists and have for many years and don't feel right about giving up my career to defend them. I will give up my film career if it is in the interests of defending something I believe in, but not this".

And so, Kazan escaped the Hollywood blacklist and continued doing what he wanted to do most — make films. He would deliver some of his best work in his post-HUAC period, e.g. East of Eden (1955) and On The Waterfront (1954), the latter film regarded as Kazan's justification for informing. (Before 1952 Kazan had already made films such as A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945), Gentleman's Agreement (1947), Panic in the Streets (1950) and A Streetcar Named Desire (1951).)

His naming names cost Kazan several friendships (including his close friendship with Arthur Miller) and made him persona non grata in Hollywood. Even with the passing of time, Kazan remained a controversial figure whose actions could not be forgotten. In 1999 when the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences decided to honour him with a Lifetime Achievement Award, the decision caused a lot of commotion in Hollywood leaving people clearly divided. While some felt Kazan deserved the Oscar for his body of work, others disagreed refusing to stand up and applaud at the ceremony (watch here).

Kazan never apologised or showed remorse for what he had done. While he admitted to regretting "the human cost" of it, in the end Kazan stood by his actions: "Maybe nobody agreed with me, but I thought that was the right thing to do. Maybe I did wrong, probably did. But I really didn't do it for any reason other than that I thought it was right."

Above: Elia Kazan and Arthur Miller, the latter would be blacklisted in 1957. Below: Marlon Brando as Terry Malloy in On The Waterfront shouting: "And I'm glad what I done to you, ya hear that?"; in 1988 Kazan said:" [... ] that was me saying, with identical heat, that I was glad I'd testified as I had."

And now, the letter!

Eleven days after he had given his HUAC testimony, Elia Kazan wrote to screenwriter Robert E. Sherwood, saying that although his informing was "difficult and painful", it was also "necessary and right".

Sandy Hook, Conn.

April 21, 1952 

Dear Bob:

Your letter meant so much to me that I found it a little hard to answer. What can I say? You have it exactly. It was difficult and painful. No one likes to "tell". And to say that something is difficult and mean it is to face the fact that it can never come out 100% comfortable. It didn't.

I believe what I did was necessary and right. The silence of so many of the House Committee's witnesses had disgusted me. I thought what the nation needed was a sense of proportion about the problem and, for this, cold facts. Yet the first time I was called down, though I answered every question about myself and my own activities, I refused to name other individuals. It was as if 12th. st.* had kept hold of a little piece of my conscience all these years. The Communists had done violence to everything I believed in, and still somehow I stayed silent and shrugged it off and minimized and looked the other way.

Enough of that! I've been trying during these last weeks to let the air in and the light and to take a good fresh look at what's in my damned head. Painful as its been, I'm really glad it all happened.

Most gratefully yours, 
Gadg.

Source: The Selected Letters of Elia Kazan, edited by Albert J. Devlin with Marlene J. Devlin; published in 2014 by Alfred A. Knopf.

Notes

On 12 April 1952 following his HUAC testimony, Kazan took out an ad in the New York Times, defending his actions. Kazan's full statement can be read here.  

*12th st. = 35 East 12th Street, New York City, location of the Communist Party headquarters.