3

MAGIC, MONSTERS AND WAR

While Carl Laemmle was opening his City of Make Believe, the war in Europe was heating up. Germany, France and Britain were at a standstill in the trenches, Russia was falling back and all of Europe and parts of the Middle East were aflame with death and dying. Even though the United States was adamantly neutral, most, if not all of America was on the side of France and thought of Germany as the evil Hun empire, the enemy. Laemmle was torn between his home country of Germany and his loyalty to the United States. Because he had made himself a public figure, most of America had been following his every move. The country knew that Laemmle visited his hometown of Laupheim annually and had a habit of employing German directors, using German scripts and promoting German actors, such as Erich von Stroheim. Laemmle always referred to himself as an American but never denied or shied away from his German roots. After the war started, the American public began to perceive him as a German-American—with the hyphen being a problem—and not desirable to the public.

In an effort to change the image of both Universal Pictures and himself, Laemmle produced a series of films designed as antiwar propaganda against Germany. The first of these films, The Sinking of Lusitania, in 1918 portrayed Germans as the stereotypical Huns seen in cartoons throughout the war. Laemmle wanted to associate Germany with the brutality and barbarism of war and as the invading totalitarian conquerors. In another film, The Kaiser: The Beast of Berlin, Laemmle made Kaiser Wilhelm out to be Lucifer himself and the German army as spawns from hell. The films did have the effect that Laemmle wanted, and the American population began to see that Laemmle and Universal Pictures were not the enemy. Universal’s releases were again making money at the box office. In Germany, however, even once the war was over, Uncle Carl was now a man shunned by even his old hometown. After the war, Laemmle visited his boyhood home of Laupheim and was greeted by protesting citizens who told Laemmle to leave and never return.

Once Carl returned to the United States, he led a campaign to aid Germany’s reconstruction and, by using the power of Universal Pictures, gathered large amounts of cash and aid in the form of workers, material and other necessities needed for everyday life. Laemmle did this not only as a way to get back into the good graces of Germany’s moviegoing population but also because he truly cared about people he still thought of as kin. All was going well with Laemmle’s attempts at healing the wounds between Universal Pictures and his home country until the release of what is arguably the greatest movie the studio has ever produced, All Quiet on the Western Front. The movie won the Oscar for Best Picture in 1930, but in Germany, all of the reviews were negative, and the fledgling Nazi Party organized protests in front of movie theaters around the country. After only three days, the movie was banned in Germany. Laemmle thought that even though the movie showed the horrors of war it also portrayed the German people in a good light. Unfortunately, and with the help of master propagandist Joseph Goebbels, the German people disagreed, and Laemmle and Universal were once again on the outs with his home nation.

As much as Carl Laemmle wanted to make amends with Germany, he never lost sight of what his company’s mission truly was: to make movie magic. The rise of his studio and its popularity can be traced to the studio’s embracing of the moviegoing public. Almost immediately after the opening of Universal Studios, Laemmle had grandstands and bleachers erected around and near the stages and film locations on the lot. He invited the public to come and see the marvel of Hollywood moviemaking for a nominal fee of only twenty-five cents. Guests could even spend an extra five cents for a chicken box lunch. As the guests sat and watched their favorite movie stars perform in westerns, dramas or light-hearted comedies, they were encouraged to boo the bad guys, cheer the heroes and whistle, clap and jeer to their hearts’ content. Laemmle realized that the number of people who could come and watch his films being made was small, but he also knew that the word-of-mouth advertising, along with the moderate amount of income generated by the spectators, was worth the minor annoyance of having hangers-on wandering around the studio.

In 1922, the studio was renamed Universal Pictures Corporation, and even though the studio was still producing low-budget westerns and melodramas, the 1920s saw the arrival of two notable classics. In 1923, Universal released The Hunchback of Notre Dame starring Lon Chaney and directed by Wallace Worsley. This film achieved great financial success for Universal, and the critical acclaim it received permanently established Universal as a premier Hollywood studio. The second film, also starring Lon Chaney, was The Phantom of the Opera, released in 1925. This film featured a large cast of studio favorites, and Chaney received critical acclaim for his portrayal of Erik, the disfigured man who hides out in the opera house. Chaney received accolades for his acting as well as his amazing makeup work, the likes of which had never been seen before. The entire opera house set was actually built right into sound stage 28, which over the years, until just recently, was used in many other movies and TV shows. This sound stage was one of the most haunted sites at the studio.

The 1920s was a frustrating decade for Universal Pictures. The company, unlike most other studios of the time, did not have the advantage of being affiliated with or ownership of a theater chain, where most first-run movies were shown in major cities throughout America. Universal relied on independent, rural theaters, and so the movies it produced catered to the tastes of rural audiences. Universal also accessed European markets, where American westerns and action movies found a large, enthusiastic audience. Through all of the turmoil of the times, Universal Studios grew, and those lucky enough to attend the filming watched as streets, building façades and whole towns grew seemingly overnight. The cathedral of Notre Dame overlooked a western town, a Monte Carlo casino stood near a New York skyline and a Paris opera house arose for all to see. One patron of the studio was quoted as saying, “Every time we come back to watch a new film being made, it’s as if the whole world had appeared in Los Angeles as if by magic.”

Images

The sprawling back lot is made up of buildings that are nothing more than façades made to look like city blocks and brownstones.

With the destruction of war still fresh in the minds of the world’s population, Carl Laemmle figured he would give his audience something to distract them from what they had just gone through while allowing them to grieve and remember. Laemmle thought that the horror movie was the perfect way to accomplish this. The first ones on this list were the aforementioned Hunchback of Notre Dame and The Phantom of the Opera, followed by a string of classic horror and mystery films. Films such as The Man Who Laughs, The Cat and the Canary and The Last Performance gave the moviegoing public exactly what they needed to both forget about the horrors of World War I and replace their hatred of the Germans with fear of monsters on the silver screen. It also set Universal Pictures on the path to becoming the foremost authority on the art of the horror film, something that even to this day it has never relinquished.

Laemmle had always strived to make Universal Pictures into a studio where his films would become masterpieces and would go on to become classics in history. He was credited with producing Hollywood’s first million-dollar production with the 1922 film Foolish Wives. The movie was a hit in America and parts of Europe, but because of Erich von Stroheim’s involvement, it was a complete flop in Germany and other Germanic countries. Von Stroheim was still thought of as a propagandist, and therefore, anything he had a hand in was felt to be just more anti-German rhetoric. Other films produced in the decade went on to receive acclaim from American and European moviegoers, and it showed in the box office receipts. Movies such as Marry-Go-Round and Les Misérables, with their lavish sets, international stars and famous European directors, helped change the image of Universal Pictures from the cheap, low-budget western studio to a classic, masterpiece-producing Hollywood powerhouse. Universal continued to allow guests to attend the filming on the back lots and sets, and because of this, Universal’s fame grew immensely—Carl Laemmle couldn’t have been more pleased.

With the advent of talkies in the late 1920s, Universal found that the studio’s policies would need to change. The investment in the new technologies, editing, soundtracks and even distribution were affected by the new format. Actors and actresses who were once the go-to stars for the studio now found themselves in unfamiliar territory, and many of them could not make the transition to speaking parts and were forced to leave the business. Universal’s first talkie was the 1928 film Melody of Love, starring Walter Pidgeon.

Laemmle had difficulty transitioning from the silent era into the modern craze of sound pictures. He was unwilling to give up silent film theaters and believed that they would be around for a long time; because of this, Laemmle came up with a dual strategy of producing all of Universal’s films in both sound and silent formats. This two-version approach meant that viewers have their silent pictures while the new generation was also served. Unfortunately, the cost associated with this approach was all but unsustainable.

When Carl Laemmle Jr. took over as general manager in charge of production in 1929, he adopted a more sophisticated approach to producing films. Laemmle Jr. fully embraced the talking picture format and slowly moved away from the silent era—and not a moment too soon. When the stock market crash hit on October 29, 1929, Universal was able to sustain itself, but just barely. The younger Laemmle cut the studio’s output by 40 percent but concentrated on longer, higher-quality films. It was under Laemmle Jr.’s tutelage that the studio embarked on its now famous horror film crusade.

Even though the horror genre did well at the box office, the other films that Laemmle was now producing did not seem to capture the interest of the moviegoing public, and the box office take did not even out the high cost of production for Universal’s feature films. One such film being produced was the now classic Showboat. This movie remake of the hit Broadway show produced by Laemmle Jr. in 1935 ran so over budget that it literally broke the bank at the studio. Knowing that Universal needed capital to keep operating, Carl did something he swore he would never do: he sought out a loan to keep the studio running. There is some discrepancy in the amount borrowed, ranging from $750,000 to just over $1 million, but regardless of the actual amount, Laemmle put the studio up as collateral for the loan. As the costs rose higher and higher for the film, it became clear to Carl that he would have trouble paying off the debt, as the release date of Showboat kept being delayed. By 1936, the Executive Board of Universal was getting worried about the leadership of the Laemmle family, and the investors called in their option. This allowed Standard Capital to acquire Laemmle’s shares of Universal Pictures for $4.1 million, ending an era at Universal Studios. Laemmle was heartbroken at the fact that he had to leave the studio that he had built and run for over two decades. His final speech as he left the now largest and most influential studio in Hollywood was filled with both regret and hope for the future of Universal Pictures.

Carl Laemmle was never one to rest on his laurels, and after he was forced to sell Universal Pictures, he dedicated his life to helping those affected by the rise of Hitler and the Nazis in his home country. He was no longer allowed in Germany due to the release of All Quiet on the Western Front but remained in contact with his family in Laupheim as well as friends he had made during his tenure at Universal and former employees. He was well aware of the worsening conditions facing Jews, and Laemmle personally sponsored more than three hundred Jewish families so they could immigrate to the United States. Once it became clear that he had exhausted the possibility of obtaining more sponsorships himself, he appealed to his family, friends, former employees and many others he had come to know throughout the years to help sponsor many more. His steadfast support of European Jews was in direct contrast to the rest of Hollywood’s Jewish producers, including Adolph Zukor of Paramount, and Louis B. Meyer over at MGM. Zukor is quoted as saying, “I don’t think that Hollywood should deal with anything but entertainment. The news reels take care of current events. To make films of political significance is a mistake.” What a far cry that position takes in comparison with the radical political stances taken by studios and movie stars today. Laemmle, however, could not just idly stand by and watch as Hitler slowly put the Jews of Germany into the categories of either slaves or animals. The month before Kristallnacht, or the Night of Broken Glass, where Nazi Stormtroopers destroyed Jewish shops, synagogues and buildings and dragged hundreds of Jews off to jail on trumped-up charges, Laemmle had written to his nephew Willian Wyler about his concerns for what was happening in his beloved Germany:

Dear Mr. Wyler, I want to ask you a very big favor. The Jewish situation in Germany has been getting on my nerves for a long, long time. I feel these poor, unfortunate people need help in the worst way. I have been over there and know what they are going through. I have issued so many personal affidavits that the United States government won’t accept any more from me except from my closest blood relatives. Nevertheless, while I was over there, I was worried so much by the distressed people that I promised about 150 of them I would move heaven and Earth to find sponsors for them. This is why I am writing you this letter.

With the help of his nephew and his former protégé, Paul Kohner, Laemmle formed an anti-Nazi stronghold in Hollywood. Wyler, now an immigrant to the United States himself, became one of the leading film directors in Hollywood and joined the U.S. Army Air Corps, flying B-17 bombers against his former home country.

Carl Laemmle passed away in Los Angeles from a massive heart attack in 1939 at the age of seventy-two. His funeral, like his life, became a celebration of all that was Hollywood and all that could be accomplished if one simply strove to achieve. Say what you will about Uncle Carl Laemmle, but without his guidance and leadership, Hollywood would not be what it is today. He took on one of the most powerful men in the world and won. Perhaps the greatest testament to Laemmle is that the man who was once his enemy, Thomas Edison, came to admire and appreciate what Laemmle had built. When Laemmle opened up a new chapter in the Universal saga, Edison was there to dedicate the new state-of-the-art electric studio.