1/11/23
Newsletter #216
The Crack of Dawn
My dad was a very astute businessman. That is, except the time he bought four Rolex watches in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot for $100. There was also the time in 1973 when he got a tremendous deal on a family package for a Christmas trip to the Canary Islands, which are located off the southern coast of Spain. Some hustler was pushing the Canary Islands as the new Acapulco: gorgeous beaches, great weather, loaded with beautiful brand-new hotels, and because it was all new and undiscovered, it was cheap.
When my family got there, we found out that the main reason it was so cheap was that they hadn’t finished building the hotels. Behind the hotel there were four sticks stuck in the dirt with string tied between them forming a large rectangle – the location of the forthcoming swimming pool. The elevators hadn’t yet been installed. The terrain was arid, rocky hills. And beyond any of that, the weather in the Canary Islands sucks. It may be gorgeous for the rest of the year, but during the winter it’s windy and chilly and not suitable for beach dwelling. There was no town to go into, nor any kind of amusements like a movie theater or a bowling alley. Wisely, however, the hotel had completed the bar. With nothing better to do, my family – along with all of the other duped, disgruntled tourists – spent the entire week in the bar getting hammered, even though I was only 15. My parents, along with the other hornswoggled tourists, filed a class action suit and got their money reimbursed.
In 1972 Bob Fosse pulled off a feat that had never occurred before and has never been duplicated. Fosse won the Oscar for Best Director for Cabaret (beating out Francis Coppola for The Godfather), the Emmy for Best Director for the TV special, Liza with a Z (which is wonderful), and the Tony Award for Best Director of a Broadway play for Pippen. He was 46, and he never made anything particularly good again, dying at the age of 60.
David O. Selznick had a fabulous early career. His father, Lewis, was one of the important early film distributors who got both of his sons, Myron and David, into the film business as teenagers. By the mid-1920s Lewis Selznick was so successful that he bought several distressed studios, including Metro Pictures, and put both of his young sons in charge of his own studio. Alas, the stock market crash of 1929 wiped out Lewis Selznick and he lost everything. Luckily, both of his sons were very smart. Myron became the top agent in Hollywood. David, at the age of 28, talked his way into being named the Head of Production at the brand-new studio, RKO. In the course of 15 months David Selznick released the enormous hit, King Kong (1933); signed Fred Astaire and produced his first film (with contract player, Ginger Rogers), Flying Down to Rio (1933), signed Broadway actress, Katherine Hepburn, and produced her first movie, Bill of Divorcement (1932; directed by newcomer, George Cukor, whom Selznick also signed).
Since the best way to get ahead in Hollywood is nepotism, David Selznick married Irene Mayer, daughter of Louis Mayer. Gosh darn it if David wasn’t wooed away from RKO to become Head of Production at MGM (a conglomerate of Goldwyn Pictures, Louis B. Mayer Pictures, and Selznick’s former studio, Metro Pictures). Working directly under wunderkind, Irving Thalberg, David Selznick supervised the production of many of MGM’s most successful movies: Mutiny on the Bounty (Best Picture, 1935), The Great Ziegfield (Best Picture, 1936), etc.
In 1938 David O. Selznick formed his own company, Selznick International. He then bought the rights to the largest-selling book in history, Gone With the Wind, managed to borrow the biggest star in the world, Clark Gable, from his father-in-law, Louis Mayer, then found Vivian Leigh through his brother, Myron, who was her agent. Gone With the Wind (1939) was the most-expensive movie ever made, won the Oscar for Best Picture 1939, and went on to become the most successful movie for very long time.
David Selznick was 37 years old, and he had proverbially shot his wad. He never made another good movie. By the 1950s he was making ridiculously expensive bombs like: The Sun Also Rises (1957) and his last film, the miserable remake of Farewell to Arms (1957). David Selznick made it to 63.
I find it great consolation that I have outlived both Bob Fosse and David Selznick. It’s not much, but it’s something.
And now a brand-new day will dawn. Here’s a word I couldn’t spell with a gun against my head – Hallelujah!