The Apartment: a favourite (movie-wise)

This post is my contribution to the My Favourite Classic Movie Blogathon in celebration of National Classic Movie Day, hosted by Classic Film and TV Cafe. Click here to check out all the other entries.

I don't really have a favourite movie. There are so many great movies, I find it very difficult to pick just one. But one of the films that has always ranked high on my list of favourites --one that I've seen many times and will certainly watch again-- is Billy Wilder's black comedy The Apartment (1960). There's so much to love about this film. The script by Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond which contains the most brilliant lines ("That's the way it crumbles... cookie-wise", for one); the performances from the entire cast, in particular the leads Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine; the crisp black-and-white cinematography by Joseph LaShelle; the wonderful music score by Adolph Dietsch -- all these elements, masterfully put together by Billy Wilder, make The Apartment a gem from start to finish. 

Back in 1960, the public also loved The Apartment. Audiences went to see the film en masse, making it a box-office hit immediately upon release. But it was not just a commercial success, the film was also lauded by the critics and by Wilder's peers. At the Oscar Ceremony in April 1961, The Apartment was awarded a total of five Oscars, three of which went to Wilder: Best Picture, Best Director and Best Screenplay (the latter he had to share with I.A.L. Diamond). To congratulate Wilder on the film and its success, many colleagues sent him letters and telegrams. Below you'll find some of the correspondence Wilder received, both in 1960 when the film was released and in 1961 after his big Oscar win. The correspondence comes from Sammy Davis Jr., Fred Zinnemann, Kirk Douglas, Alfred Hitchcock, Joan Crawford, John Sturges and Hal Wallis; the letter from Hitchcock has been posted on this blog before, but I thought it was nice to include it here as well.

Transcript: 

1960 MAR 16

BILLIE WILDER, SAMUEL GOLDWYN STUDIOS=

1040 NORTH FORMOSA DLR BY MSGR HOLLYWOOD CALIF=

DEAR BILLIE HAVE JUST SEEN YOUR TRADE AD FOR THE QUOTE APARTMENT UNQUOTE THE INDUSTRY HAS NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT AS LONG AS THERE ARE PEOPLE LIKE YOU IN IT

MUCH LOVE=

SAMMY DAVIS JR.

Transcript:

1960 MAY 5

BILLY WILDER

1041 NORTH FORMOSA HOLLYWOOD CALIF=

DEAR BILLY: DAN TARADASH AND 19 OTHER PEOPLE HAVE TOLD ME "THE APARTMENT" IS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL WARMEST CONGRATULATIONS 

CORDIALLY=

FRED ZINNEMANN.

Note: Daniel Taradash was a screenwriter; his credits include Golden Boy (1939) and From Here to Eternity (1952).

Transcript:

Dear Billy-

I have to tell you again how thrilled I was about seeing your picture this evening. You've certainly eclipsed "Some Like It Hot"- no mean feat.

This is a great example of movie-making --the sharp comments on various phases of American life, the daring juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy, the incisive penetration into the soul of a woman in love with a married man, the direction that led to some magnificent performances all add up to make one of the greatest pictures I've ever seen.

Transcript:

June 29, 1960

Mr. Billy Wilder

10375 Wilshire Boulevard

Los Angeles, California

Dear Mr Wilder,

I saw THE APARTMENT the other day.

I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed it, and how beautifully made. 

I felt this so much that I was impelled to drop you this note.

Kindest regards,

(signed)

Alfred J. Hitchcock

Transcript:

October 10, 1960

Billy dear,

I have just seen "The Apartment". You have done the most adroit, professional, exciting, poignant, delightful film I have seen in years. Thank you for giving the industry the "goose" it needed, and thank you for the joy it has given, not only millions of people, but your friend--

Joan (signed)

Transcript:

April 18, 1961

Dear Billy:

It was a great pleasure to see you scoop up that family of little men. Particularly since the picture was a complete original- a rare and admirable thing.

Please include I.A.L. in my congratulations.

With all the best,

John (signed)

Mr. Billy Wilder

1041 N. Formosa

Hollywood 46, California

Transcript:

April 19, 1961

Dear Billy,

This is getting to be a habit, but I am sure it is one you have no objection to acquiring.

In any event, my fond regards and sincere congratulations on the well deserved Oscars.

Sincerely,

(signed)
Hal Wallis

Images of the telegrams and letters courtesy of Heritage Auctions (here and here).

The medical accuracy of "Psycho"

In 1955, the American Medical Association founded a committee called the Physicians Advisory Committee on Television, Radio and Motion Pictures. The committee advised producers, writers etc. on medical subjects with the intention of ensuring medical accuracy in films, tv and radio shows, as well as protecting the image of the practising physician.

When Psycho was released in the summer of 1960 containing a medical inaccuracy, the Physicians Advisory Committee immediately wrote to the film's director Alfred Hitchcock. The scene which had caught the attention of the committee was the famous shower scene and in particular the close-up shot of Janet Leigh's eye after she'd been murdered. Written by the committee's vice-chairman Dudley M. Cobb, the letter explains what is wrong with Leigh's pupil from a medical point of view. Cobb also points out that medical accuracy could have been ensured had Hitch consulted the committee beforehand. A great and most informative letter, here goes:

Source: academy of motion picture arts and sciences

Transcript:

August 29, 1960

Mr. Alfred Hitchcock

Revue Studios

Universal City, California

Dear Mr. Hitchcock:

It is indeed a pleasure to write you in connection with your most interesting motion picture "Psycho." I enjoyed the content of this feature film and feel that it carries a worth-while message. However, there was one incident that I wish to call to your attention from a medical standpoint. In the scene where Janet Leigh has just sustained multiple knife wounds and through loss of blood and shock has gradually slumped to the floor, the scene fades out to another portion of the story and then immediately cuts back to a closeup of one of her eyes, then gradually the camera moves back to include the whole scene.

It is this portion of the picture that I wish to bring to your attention. The picture reveals an eye and the pupillary reaction or size is not consistent with a person that is recently deceased or suffering from extreme shock. In the case such as you portray, the central nervous system is "knocked out", thereby causing the pupil to be greatly dilated. As you will remember, Miss Leigh's eye portrayed normal pupillary size. It was not one of a deceased person or of one in great shock. I am sure doctors, nurses and first aid personnel would immediately recognize the condition of the eye that one would expect in such cases.

As you know, the American Medical Association's Physicians Advisory Committee always stands ready and willing to give technical advice on such medical scenes and this is a good example wherein we could have advised you to insure medical accuracy. The Committee is anxious to help in any way it can in the future and we would welcome a meeting or luncheon where we could explain our functions.

Again, my congratulations on your interesting picture,

Sincerely yours,

(signed)

Dudley M. Cobb, jr., M.D., Vice-chairman

Physicians Advisory Committee for Television, Radio and Motion Pictures

I have become so used to being the other side of the coin...

Katharine Hepburn was 34 years old when she met 41-year-old Spencer Tracy on the set of their first film together, Woman of the Year (1942). They fell in love and began a love affair that was to last for 26 years. Tracy, who was married with two children, had been living separately from his wife Louise since the 1930s, but he would never divorce her. Although it has been said often that his being Catholic was the reason for this, Tracy himself once claimed: "I can get a divorce whenever I want to, but my wife and Kate like things just as they are" [via]. 

In the 1960's, Tracy's health began to deteriorate significantly and Hepburn moved into his home to care for him. They would live together during the last years of his life. On 10 June 1967, seventeen days after filming had ended on Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (the couple's 9th film together), Tracy died. Hepburn, who was the only one present when he died, recalled the incident in her 1991 autobiography Me: Stories of my Life. In the middle of the night, she had followed Tracy to the kitchen where he wanted to make himself a cup of tea. Before opening the kitchen door, she heard the sound of a breaking tea cup and then a loud clump. Spencer Tracy had just suffered a fatal heart attack, 67 years old.

Here are three letters written by Katharine Hepburn shortly after Spencer Tracy's death. The letters are respectively written to Joan Crawford on 14 June 1967 (on Spencer Tracy's stationery), Hepburn's friend Armina on 16 June (shown in transcript only) and her author/friend Roy Newquist on 29 June. 

Source: the concluding chapter of joan crawford

Transcript:

VI-14-1967

Dear Joan-

George told me of all your sweetness + really I did not need to be told- Spence was very very fond of you and he would have been so pleased with the lovely basket of azaleas-it is just sad- isn't it- such an unusal person- He was just tired out- I think that his big old heart had simply beat itself out- + it stopped- and he had no struggle- no terror- in a second he was dead- And it was nice that he made the picture- But what can one say- Thank you dear Joan-

Kate

Note: George was probably George Cukor who was a friend of both Katharine's and Joan's.

June 16     I’m staying at Spence’s

Dear Armina-

You are right—I said to myself even one second after it happened—It is best—My brain knows it—no anticipation—no struggle—just end—It was instantaneous—and I know that it is a best way to die—But the finality is appalling I am sure you know—you just cannot believe it—Here—gone—It is so sad—All the years—All the shared struggles—And I know that you are right too that time can’t heal it just forces you to change your own path—Well—not much to say—I was lucky to know him & you were sweet to write such a dear letter.

Kate

[source: rr auction]

Source: heritage auctions (images reproduced with permission)

Transcript:

VI-29-1967

Dear Roy-

Thank you for kind words— There's nothing much to say- It is sad- and Death is very Total—it is there—it is the end- it is a blank wall- one sits and stares at this wall. Here you must paint your futur [sic]—+so must I—if I can figure out who this new creature is— I have become so used to being the other side of the coin- that my independence* is at a low ebb—

Poor wretched silly Lee Radziwill— at least she gave the press a gorgeous time—

Someday I suppose I'll try to do a book- but it involves others+ it is awkward. I think it's fine you doing a book on the movie + any help I'll be glad to give—People are mad about your article and the pictures- I've not looked at it yet- But you must be very pleased-

Kate

*There was one word in this letter that I found totally illegible: independence. A big thanks to Emma Wilson for deciphering the word for me. And also to Tim Butler for his efforts.

Notes:
-Lee Radziwill is the younger sister of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis and in the 1960s tried her hand at acting. In 1967, the largely untrained Radziwill was cast as Tracy Lord in a stage production of The Philadelphia Story, receiving very bad reviews.
-Roy Newquist was working on a book about Guess Who's Coming to Dinner containing interviews with the film's stars. The book called A Special Kind of Magic was published that same year.

This is my contribution to The Great Katharine Hepburn Blogathon hosted by margaretperry.org. Click here to check out all the other entries!

The picture is almost impossible to understand

Today would have been the 100th birthday of director/actor/writer/producer Orson Welles. Although I am not a Welles fan, there is no denying that he was a unique filmmaker. Difficult to work with and considered an 'enfant terrible' in Hollywood, Welles changed cinema with his revolutionary camera-, sound- and storytelling techniques. His Citizen Kane (1941) is still considered one of the best films ever made and also subsequent films like The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) and Touch of Evil (1958) are generally regarded as masterpieces. 

In 1947, Welles fled Hollywood and moved to Italy where two years later he would start filming Othello, an adaptation of Shakespeare's tragedy. It would prove to be a difficult project. Although shooting began in 1949, the film would not be released until three years later. The bankruptcy of the film's original Italian investor forced Welles to use his own money, taking on acting jobs (like The Third Man (1949)) to raise cash and thus pausing production for long periods of time. But eventually, Othello was released in Europe in 1952 to much acclaim, even winning the prestigious Palm d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival. 

Releasing the film in the US, however, was a different matter. Welles couldn't find a distributor, and then when it was finally released through United Artists in 1955 the film was hardly a success (even though the European version had been changed to suit the American market --changes which included the addition of a narration by Welles). Today, there is more appreciation for Othello, especially after a 'restored' version of the American cut was released in 1992.

The letter for this post was written by Twentieth Century-Fox executive Darryl F. Zanuck to Orson Welles in October 1952. With the successful release of Othello in Europe in May 1952, Welles was now seeking an American studio to release his film and had possibly approached Zanuck for that purpose. But Zanuck felt Othello was not yet ready for the American market, giving Welles some harsh criticism as well as recommendations on how to improve his film (as mentioned above, United Artists would release it in 1955). Apart from Zanuck's letter, also shown is a telegram from Welles giving his reaction to Zanuck's suggestions.

Transcript:

October 13, 1952

Dear Orson:

Yesterday I saw OTHELLO. First I am going to tell you the good things about it and then I am going to tell you the things I think are completely wrong.

The photography is absolutely superb.

The locations and settings are fabulous.

Your individual performance is brilliant.

With the exception of the scenes in which you personally appear and a few other "intimate scenes" the picture is almost impossible to understand. Frankly most of the time they could have been speaking Roumanian and it would have been just as clear. It is more than a case of poor dubbing or poor rerecording--it is literally impossible to even comprehend what most of the performers are trying to say.

Desdemona is second-rate, but at least you can understand her. What I cannot comprehend is why it is impossible to understand some of the other actors like Bob Cootes.

Here you have a pictorial masterpiece, but without printed titles or narration it hasn't got a chance in the United States, in my opinion---even in the art houses.

Nothing grieves me more than to give you the above opinion, which is shared by Al Lichtman and others in our releasing organization. I hope we are wrong one hundred percent, but I had two of your biggest "fans" with me, namely Virginia and Susan, when I screened it, and after the first ten minutes they too were "lost" in the bedlam of dialogue.

You know that I have great affection for you and I have great respect and admiration for your talent and ability. For the United States you can save this picture only if you will pursue a drastic course. The course is as follows.

Take all of the dialogue out of the entire picture with the exception of the intimate, personal and dramatic passages --and tell the story with narration. Hold down all of the other dialogue to a minimum so that the narration drowns it out and then only let the "live action and dialogue" come to the surface in the really dramatic scenes.

I would not change the pictorial flow or content of the film except that I would shorten it by eliminating entirely all of the extraneous or inaudible dialogue scenes concerning other than the two or three principal actors. I would treat it exactly as if the picture had been produced in a foreign language.

I would start out under the opening scenes by explaining the basic story of OTHELLO. I would start with the date, the period and the historical situation.

Darryl F. Zanuck

Your version goes on the assumption that the public is intimately familiar with the story of OTHELLO. This is not so. You must explain the story to them and the background of the basic situation. You have one of the greatest musical scores I have ever heard in any picture and thus with music and narration you can tell your story and let it come "alive" only when the key scenes are on. The critics will laud you for this technique, but what is more important the public will then have a chance to understand and appreciate the story.

Right now the story in the present version is incomprehensible. To enjoy something an audience must understand what the hell it is all about. You could write the narration for this picture in one week. It would be a new and revolutionary technique --and in my sincere opinion it is the only conceivable chance you have of running up an American gross.

In narration you could tell about the War --the hatred for the Moor-- the background and historical basis of the conflict.

After all when you release it in Europe you are doing the same thing when you use printed titles to accomplish the same purpose. 

I want to see you come out a winner in this and I imagine the American market is important to you. I think you should carefully weigh the possibilities of this suggestion. When I last read OTHELLO it was in high school. I remembered only a few high lights and the basic idea. Thus when I saw the picture I found myself not only straining to understand what the hell was being said but I was also trying to remember the play and put it together in my mind with what was transpiring on the screen.

The above is savage criticism but if you follow this recommendation the final result may very well be far from hopeless. You must not give up on it now. You have spent too much and gone too far, and you must go still further. There are many wonderful things in the picture and your last scene is magnificent, but with fifty or sixty per cent of the inaudible babble eliminated and replaced with narration and your wonderful music, this definitely has a chance.

Best always,

(signed 'Daryl')

Mr. Orson Welles

c/o J. Dyball

Albergo Internationals

Rome, Italy

Transcript:

DARRYL ZANUCK

20TH CENTURY FOX BEVERLEY HILLS CALIFORNIA

DEAR DARRYL THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR LETTER

GIVING CONTENTS CAREFULLEST THOUGHT

FONDEST REGARDS =ORSON

Images Zanuck's letter and Welles' telegram courtesy of Heritage Auctions

What took you so long

Here is an exchange of two short messages between John Wayne and Ray Milland. Wayne replies in a funny way to a congratulatory telegram Milland and his wife Muriel had sent him. It doesn't say what he was congratulated for, but my guess is that it was for winning the Oscar for Best Actor for his role in True Grit (1969). It was the only Oscar of Wayne's career-- a long-overdue prize handed to him at the Oscar Ceremony in April 1970. Ray Milland also received only one Oscar in his career, but as early as 1946 for his lead performance as an alcoholic in The Lost Weekend; the note from Wayne (of which a file copy is shown below) is a reference to that. Incidentally, Wayne and Milland made one movie together, Reap the Wild Wind (1942), and the Millands signed the telegram with what were apparently their nicknames, Mal and Jack.

John Wayne and Ray Milland --here in a scene from "Reap the Wild Wind"-- got on very well during filming.

Image: heritage auctions (reproduced with permission)

Transcript:

BEVERLY HILLS CALIF

=JOHN WAYNE. BAY SHORES. DONT PHONE=

NEWPORT BEACH CALIF=

CONGRATULATIONS FROM US BOTH WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG=

MAL AND JACK.= (Milland)

________

2686 Bayshore Drive

Newport Beach, Calif. 92660

July 15, 1970

Dear Mal and Jack:

Thanks for your telegram.

You asked me what took so long?

There was some drunken bum on

a lost weekend ahead of me!

My best,

Mr. and Mrs. Ray Milland

10664 Bellagio Road

Los Angeles, Calif. 90024

Ray Milland and Muriel Weber were married from 1932 until Milland's death in 1985. They had a son and an adopted daughter. 

Let's hurry this up, Mr. Selznick!

When we talk about the fabulous films of the 30s, it would be hard to ignore the decade's most successful film, Gone with the Wind (1939). Immensely popular upon release, Gone with the Wind broke attendance records everywhere, becoming the highest grossing film up until then and remaining so for the next 27 years (in fact, after inflation adjustment, it still is the biggest box-office hit of all time). It was thé winner at the Academy Awards, wiping out that year's wonderful competition by taking home a total of ten Oscars (eight competitive and two honorary).

But probably even more legendary than the film itself was the making of Gone with the Wind. Although actual filming did not begin until December of 1938, pre-production had already started in 1936, not long after producer David O. Selznick had purchased the film rights for $50,000. For two years, filming was delayed not only because of Selznick's problems to secure Clark Gable for the role of Rhett Butler --Gable was under exclusive contract to MGM-- but even more because of the search for a suitable Scarlett O'Hara. For the most coveted female role in film history, Selznick considered many established and less established actresses, screen-tested 31 of them, whilst interviewing another 1,400 unknowns. And all the while, the public was waiting impatiently for filming to finally begin.

The three letters for this post --each of them written in 1938-- come from the Gone with the Wind fan mail database housed at the Harry Ransom Center. Addressed to David Selznick and written respectively by Lilli Goldblatt, James G. Towery and Marjorie Shoals, the letters are just a few of many showing the impatience of the public who wanted Selznick to get on with it (and the two women writers also do some casting suggestions).

The letters will be shown in transcript only. Transcripts used with permission of the Harry Ransom Center; click for the original images on the link below each letter.

Monday, Jan 10.

Dear Mr. Selznick: 

I have kept the enclosed clipping on my desk for weeks, waiting to hear about the picture. What on earth is keeping you from producing it? Clark Gable is not the man I would pick for Rhett Butler.

I would suggest by all means Gary Cooper as Rhett Butler. And can't you find any Scarlett? Why, by golly, I'll play it for you. Maybe, this would be an asset to you - listen! 50 year old mother of 5 sons to take lead in "Gone With The Wind". I will be 50 years old next May, and with a little [?] under each ear for the neckline, I'd make a scarlet Scarlett. 

I'll enclose a snapshot taken last September with my 2 youngest boys. My oldest son is 25 years old and is in Los Angeles. His name and address is, Joseph Goldblatt c/o J. Miller, 448 South Catalina St. 

Maybe you would have something for my son to do in pictures or otherwise, but what ever you do, for heaven's sake get busy and make that picture.

With all my best wishes 

(Mrs.) Lilli Goldblatt

[source]

December 1939, the premiere of GWTW in New York City with crowds gathering outside the Astor Theatre on Broadway (above), and (below) David Selznick going over the script with Vivien Leigh, Olivia de Havilland and Leslie Howard.

August 1, 1938 

Mr. David O. Selznick 

Hollywood, California 

Dear Mr. Selznick: 

The radio and the press of the past few hours have announced to the world that Norma Shearer has decided not to play the role of Scarlett in "Gone With The Wind". I need not comment on the fact that this was a wise decision. 

But your continual delay in producing this picture is definitely hurting your standing as a great producer and lessening to a considerable degree the possibilities of the picture being a success. For nearly two years the public has been waiting to see the film version of the story, and during that time nothing but the preliminary stages seemed to have been completed.

I realize that it takes some time for a picture of his type to get underway, but surely after this length of time the early stages of actual production should be in progress. I do not know just how much progress has been made if any, but I do know that as far as the public is concerned the manuscript is still on the shelf. 

In and around Atlanta I have heard expressed the belief that unless the picture is made and released at an early date it will be a complete failure. And this is my own conviction in the matter. Every day of delay finds the public's interest becoming less and less and the possibility of success for the picture also growing less and less. The people of Atlanta want to see their story on the screen. The people of the world want to see this picture on the screen. And every day you delay putting it on the screen is certainly not helping matters. 

The only reason I have heard through the press for this delay is that no suitable actress has been found to play the role of Scarlett. Do you mean that after nearly two years of scouting and testing possibilities that you have failed to find a suitable player? Do you mean that of all the thousands of young women who have besieged you, your studio, the author, her friends, and have undergone tests, you have failed to discover the necessary talent? It really doesn't seem possible. 

But after all, your find will come eventually from the ranks of the experienced actresses. You cannot afford to trust so important role to an amateur. To do so would probably be fatal. 

In the meantime, your thunder is being stolen by other producers, and your reputation is definitely at stake. And the interest of the public is waning daily. But I believe you can still come through with a successful picture, IF you get busy and produce the picture that the world has been waiting too long already to see. 

Sincerely yours, 

James G. Towery 

[source]

25. S. Lafayette 

Grand Rapids, Mich.

August 5, 1938

David O. Selznick, 

Hollywood, Calif.

My dear Mr. Selznick: 

You may "believe it or not", but this is my first letter to the movie industry, and I'll bet you can't guess, or can you, what prompted me in writing you - it's that interesting novel "Gone With The Wind". Sad but true, the many millions who read this book are too tired to write you, after waiting for it to appear on the screen.

Now your selection of Clark Gable as Rhett is just right, but when you attempt Norma Shearer as "Scarlett", you are using very poor judgment to cast this beautiful and sweet person in this role. What you need is a darn good assistant, and here's a lady from Michigan, who has never seen Hollywood, but could come right out there and pick your star. There is no one who could play this part like Bette Davis, and you all know it. She has real acting ability, can make the public hate her, and that's what this role demands, and what I would call real acting ability, now don't you? 

Let's hurry this up Mr. Selznick, or I'll have to read this story over again to remember it. 

Yours for finer pictures, and best wishes 

Sincerely 

Mrs. Marjorie Shoals 

[source]

This post is my contribution to the Fabulous Films of the 30s Blogathon hosted by The Classic Movie Blog Association. Click here to check out all the other entries!