1939

Charles Adams

Description

Film critics and historians are virtually unanimous in considering 1939 the greatest year in the history of motion pictures. This one year produced many of the greatest films of all time, including “Gone with the Wind,” “The Wizard of Oz,” and “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” and marketed the height of the careers of such legendary stars as Clark Gable, Jimmy Stewart, John Wayne, and Judy Garland.

To commemorate the 75th anniversary of this amazing year in Hollywood history, “1939: The Greatest Year in Motion Picture History” profiles of six of the greatest films of the year: “Gone with the Wind,” “Stagecoach,” “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” “The Hound of the Baskervilles,” “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” and “The Wizard of Oz.” Each of these films was based on a great story, and “1939” reveals in detail how those stories came into being, how long they waited to find fame in film, and how the movies inspired by them eventually made motion picture history. “1939” also describes the behind-the-scenes story of how the film was made: how the story was adapted to a film script; the writers, producers, directors, actors, and technicians who made the film; how the film was received by critics and the public; and the later careers of the people who made the film.

“1939” plunges deep into the reality behind the Hollywood dream factory. Besides giving a full account of the artistic creation of each film, “1939” also describes the business deals that made each film possible and the Hays Office censorship that mandated careful handling of social and sexual themes — plus the colorful personalities in front and behind the camera and their sometimes disordered personal lives. Hollywood in the 1930s was crass, commercial, restrictive, and frequently dysfunctional — but it produced immensely enjoyable films that are still watched with pleasure today.

The perfect combination of film history, artistic appreciation, historical insight, and gossip, “1939: The Greatest Year in Motion Picture History” is a book that no movie fan should miss.

Sujets

• Película fotográfica
• Film

Informations

• Publié par: Linden Publishing
• Date de parution: 01 mars 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781610352246
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 6 Mo

Extrait

Contents
Author’s Note
Introduction
Gone With the Wind
Stagecoach
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington
The Hound of the Baskervilles
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
The Wizard of Oz
Coda
Bibliography
About the Author

1939: The Making of Six Great Films from Hollywood’s Greatest Year
Copyright ©2014 by Charles F. Adams. All rights reserved.
Published by Craven Street Books
An imprint of Linden Publishing
2006 South Mary Street, Fresno, California 93721
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Cover and interior design by Maura J. Zimmer
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Craven Street Books and Colophon are trademarks of Linden Publishing, Inc.
Photo credits: Posters and films stills from “Gone with the Wind” and “The Wizard of Oz” courtesy of Warner Brothers, all rights reserved. Publicity photos for “Gone with the Wind” and “The Wizard of Oz” courtesy of Bentoni/Corbis, all rights reserved. Poster and film stills from “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” courtesy of Sony Pictures, all rights reserved. Poster and film stills from “Stagecoach” from the 1939 film produced by Walter Wanger Productions. Poster and film stills from “The Hound of the Baskervilles” from the 1939 film produced by Twentieth Century Fox. Film stills from “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” courtesy of Warner Brothers, all rights reserved. Facsimile cover of “The Gentleman from Montana” by Clark Tate. Facsimile cover of Collier’s Magazine by the author. Facsimile of the David O. Selznick memo by Clark Tate.Photo of the author of Michael Mustachi. Monument Valley image ©iStock.com/Pgiam.


Author’s Note
When I was twelve years old, going to the movies was a Saturday afternoon ritual that my friends and I observed with an almost religious fervor. We went because there wasn’t much else to do on Saturday afternoon, because we knew that all the other kids in town would be there, and because it didn’t cost much. The first showing was called a “children’s matinee,” and while we preferred not to think of ourselves as children, we were willing to suffer the indignity because the price was right: ten cents.
There was only one theater in town so choice was not a problem. It was important to arrive early because there could be as many as a hundred kids standing in line, noisily jostling for position. If someone tried to sneak into the front of the line, they would be admonished with yells of “No cuts, no cuts!” Because the price of ten cents was available only to those “twelve and under,” the theater manager would stand near the head of the line to weed out any malefactors who approached the box office “walking low” to disguise their age and avoid paying twenty-five cents. Sometimes there were arguments.
Once you put down your dime, the lady behind the glass window gave you a ticket stub and you proceeded into the theater, making a mandatory stop at the concession stand. I always bought Black Crows, which cost more than the theater ticket. When you entered the theater itself you were confronted with a scene that teetered between bedlam and chaos. Because there were never, ever any adults present, everyone celebrated this fleeting freedom by yelling at friends, making jokes, and running up and down the aisle. Not infrequently there was racing. If the movie was late in starting, which it almost always was, we would stomp our feet in a display of dissatisfaction. When the lights were finally lowered and the stage curtain parted, there was always cheering, whistling, and applause.
We had not come just to see a movie. We came to see the movies! First there would be a newsreel showing us all the important events of the week that none of us cared about. Next would come a cartoon which was always greeted with shouts of approval. Then the first movie came on. We all knew that this was the “B” movie, the main purpose of which was to permit the theater to advertise that it was showing a “double feature.” We usually didn’t recognize any of the actors in the first movie, unless it was Chester Morris playing “Boston Blackie” or Roy Rogers playing “Roy Rogers.” It served the useful purpose of having the theater settle down, with the occasional catcall or wisecrack sapping the last of our disruptive energies. Then came the “A” movie, the feature film, and we often learned for the first time what it was when the title came on because we hadn’t paid any attention to the marquee outside. By this time we were settled in for the long haul, paid reasonable attention for the next ninety minutes, and finally left the theater feeling entertained and happy.
I probably saw almost all of the major films in 1939 because, unless I was sick and in bed, I went to the movies every Saturday afternoon. And despite the environment in which I saw them, I remember some scenes from these movies with surprising clarity—Huckleberry Finn sprinkling ketchup on the ground to fake his death, Scarlett O’Hara threading her way through the dead and wounded bodies in Atlanta, Sherlock Holmes doing battle with that great, fearsome hound, Dorothy suddenly going from black and white to color, Jimmy Stewart falling to the floor in the Senate, John Wayne leaping from horse to horse to stop the stagecoach. We didn’t think about nor did we care how those images got on the screen, although the faint hum of the projector suggested that machinery was involved.
But now I do know. Each of these movies has its own remarkable history—how the original story was written, how it was translated into a movie script, where the money came from, how the actors were chosen, how the directors managed to put it all together.
These stories are, by and large, quite amazing. But the most amazing thing, at least to me, is that they all happened seventy-five years ago. The passage of the years has not dimmed my affection for the movies of my childhood. Chronicling the six of them found in this book, all from the movie year I remember best, has been both a challenge and a delight—much like researching and writing the biographies of six old friends. Now I feel that I know them even better, and appreciate them so much more.


Introduction
Film critics and historians are virtually unanimous in considering 1939 the greatest year in the history of motion pictures—and with good reason. The number of memorable and legendary films produced in that year is astonishing— Gone With the Wind , The Wizard of Oz , Goodbye, Mr. Chips , Stagecoach , Wuthering Heights , The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn , The Hound of the Baskervilles , Ninotchka , The Hunchback of Notre Dame , Gunga Din , Of Mice and Men , Dark Victory , and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington . There have been other outstanding movie years since, but none with the overwhelming credentials of 1939.
It was a rare confluence of circumstances and events that made it such a productive year for Hollywood. This was the era of the big studios: MGM, Twentieth Century Fox, Paramount, RKO, and Warner Brothers—and they had at their disposal an amazing array of talent. They employed more than a hundred directors, including John Ford, King Vidor, William Wyler, Victor Fleming, and Cecil B. DeMille. The writing staffs of these studios were virtually a “Who’s Who” of American writers, including Ben Hecht, Nathaniel West, William Faulkner, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. The list of movie stars on their payrolls included names that still echo down through the decades—Cary Grant, Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, James Cagney, Jimmy Stewart, Errol Flynn, Judy Garland, Greta Garbo, Henry Fonda, Katharine Hepburn, Spencer Tracy, Clark Gable.
This vast talent pool was at the beck and call of the studios. For the most part, these star-quality actors and actresses were employees in every sense of the word, required to do whatever was asked of them at whatever time the studios wanted them to do it. They were told what movies they would work on and be in, what their salaries would be, and when they would be “loaned” out to other studios.
And the studios worked them hard. In 1939, the American film industry produced 365 feature films, a remarkable rate of one movie per day. The studios were feeding a greedy audience of theater-goers across the country who couldn’t get enough of the Hollywood product. In the late 1930s, more than fifty million people went to the movies at least once a week, spending over 80 percent of their entertainment dollars on theater tickets. Understandably, theater owners were insatiable in their demands for an ongoing stream of quality films, changing their marquees two or three times a week. Hollywood was more than happy to oblige.
Ironically, all this was happening at the depths of the Great Depression, with the prospect of war looming over the country. Hollywood was taking on the job of entertaining a disheartened people—of making them forget their problems for a time—of lifting their spirits and inspiring their hopes. And, while they were doing that, the studios were also in the process of making lots of money. The average motion picture produced in 1939 cost just over $300,000—and it brought in twice that amount. As a result, the country’s moneymen were eager to invest in films, virtually guaranteeing themselves a more than satisfactory return. The availability of funds meant that studios were seldom without the resources they needed for films they wanted to produce.
The year 1939 was also a time of great advancement in the technology of making films. Sound recording was better, film was faster, cameras were more mobile and flexible, rear projection had been mastered, and pictures could now be made in full color. The Technicolor process had first been used in a few films at the start of the decade, but it had recently made a giant