Chapter 20 Chapter Twenty
It's exciting to be working with Irving Berlin again, and he's just as dynamic as ever.He walked into my office dancing, and said with a happy smile, "This movie is definitely better than the original one. Let's go find Arthur."
Arthur Freed sits behind a desk in his office.After we entered, he raised his head in response, "This is a blockbuster movie, and the company will fully support you."
I asked him, "Do you have a role, Arthur?"
"Judy, Garland as Annie, Howard Gill as Frank, a very talented young actor-singer, Louis Calhern as Bull Bill, George Sidney directing."
I'll be working with Judy again, and I'll be able to work with Louis Calhern as well.
Arthur Fried said to me, "We're going to fly you to New York and Chicago to see the opera."
In New York it was Aesop Moorman, in Chicago it was Mary Martin.
"when?"
"Flight at nine o'clock tomorrow morning."
"Flying Swallow Golden Gun" is indeed an extraordinary feast of entertainment.Herbert and Dorothy Fields' original book is riveting and witty, and Aesop Moorman's performance is impassioned, hilarious and ostentatious.The next morning, I flew to Chicago again to see Mary Martin play.
Her performance is of another style. The Anne she plays has a shy and lovely side, which is very touching.My challenge was to combine the best of both of them in one character.
Creating a hit script like "The Golden Spear" has its difficulties.I couldn't stray too far from the original and have to make it fit for the screen.Many scenes that work well for the stage are not applicable in the film, and new scenes have to be conceived.
The biggest problem is the connection between the first and second acts.On stage, at the end of the first act, Annie left America for Europe, and at the beginning of the second act she has already returned to the United States.How to connect on the screen is the problem before me.
I could use a montage to briefly show Anne in various European countries, or I could focus on one country.Is this link long or short?None of this is something I can decide because it costs a lot of money to shoot these scenes.That decision is for the producer to make.
I called Arthur Freed's office and made an appointment to discuss this.An hour later, his secretary called to cancel the appointment.I asked him out again the next day.The secretary called again to cancel.It was like this for three days.On the afternoon of the third day, Sam Weisbord came to my office.
"I have just been in Arthur Freed's office. He is very disappointed in you."
A wave of panic surged inside me, "What did I do?"
"Arthur said you haven't handed over a single page of the script so far."
"But I called him to ask him to discuss..." I suddenly came to my senses.Arthur Freed was not at all interested in discussing the script, only in the music of the film—the songs, the dances, the girls.I got the feeling he couldn't picture the scene in his head.I was reminded of his reaction to my play "A Thousand Flowers" and how he didn't comment until the rest of the crew shared their feelings.
Arthur Freed's talent lies in picking the right script and hiring the best people to bring it to life.I take a deep breath.With no guidance whatsoever, I made my own decision and set out to: write the script.I am writing very fast, hope everything goes well.
After finishing writing, I handed in the script and waited for news.I don't know whose feedback will be received first.
The next day, director George Sidney came to my office.
"Do you want flattery or the truth?"
I suddenly felt dry mouth, "The truth."
George Sidney grinned and said, "I love it! You write so well." His eyes were bright. "The film is sure to be a hit."
After everyone on the set had commented on my script, Arthur Freed said, "Sidney, you've got the whole tone right."
After Judy recorded the film's soundtrack, the filming officially began. When there is no drama, Judy often comes to my office to chat. "It went well, didn't it, Sidney?" She sounded nervous. "And it's beautiful, Judy." "Really?" she asked. I watched her carefully, she looked nervous.I'm curious what she will look like behind the delicate makeup. I'm starting to hear some disturbing rumors.Judy was always late, didn't recite the lines, and the shooting progress was repeatedly hindered.She would call George Sidney at two in the morning and say she might not be on set the next day. Finally, the whole filming work came to a complete stop.On the same day, the company announced that Judy Garland had been replaced.I am very sad.I wanted to call her when I heard the news, but she had gone to Europe in despair. They were going to give the part of Anne to Betty Garrett, a very talented young actress who starred in my screenplay, "Grand Prize," and her husband, Larry Parks, starred in "The King of Songs." Benny Saul goes to see Garrett's agent. "We want Betty's first option for the next three films," Saul said. Garrett's agent shook his head: "You can only let her act in this film, and you don't have the right to sign first." Thanks to this agent, Betty Garrett lost the role of a lifetime.Eventually the company signed Betty Hurt to play Annie, and the film was finally made without incident. One morning during filming, Irving Berlin came into my office and said, "Sidney, how about we write a Broadway musical together?" My heart was beating wildly.The cooperation of Erwin Berlin is a guarantee of success.I tried to keep my tone as calm as possible: "I would like to write with you, Owen." "Okay. I've got an idea." Owen started pacing up and down, telling me his idea. I glanced at my watch. I said, "I don't want to interrupt you, but I have a dinner at 12:30 and I have to go now. Can we talk about it when I get back?" "where are you going?" "The Brown Derby Hotel in Beverly Hills." "I'll drive there with you." Owen got in my car and went with me to the restaurant, with his own driver behind, so he could talk to me about his idea without waiting an hour after I finished eating.I have never seen such passion. Also that afternoon, he also told me that he was going to East Los Angeles because a young singer was going to perform one of his songs.This is Irving Berlin in his sixties, a dynamic genius at the peak of his creation. Time was cruel to him.He developed delusions in his nineties.One day, Tommy Thune, a talented Broadway producer and set designer, called him: "Owen, I want to arrange a Broadway opera, and I need to use some of your songs." "no." Tommy Thun was very surprised: "Why?" Irving Berlin lowered his voice: "There are too many people singing my songs." Unfortunately, we didn't get to write that musical in the end either.
One of the many pleasures I had in writing "Flying Swallows and Golden Spears" was meeting Howard Gill, who was tall, strong, with a beautiful voice, and was the right choice for the leading actor.Howard had a skeet shooting scene, so he had to practice shooting.I went with him to the shooting range and we had matches. He wins every time. Under the leadership of director George Sidney, the filming went smoothly, and post-production was finally completed. In 1950, "Flying Swallow Golden Gun" premiered, and the comments from all walks of life were unanimously amazing.The New York critics called it "the best musical theater film of the year". "Because of "Flying Swallow Golden Spear", watching movies has been re-arranged on the public's schedule." "Anne on the screen is better than Anne on the stage." "Kudos to Berlin and the Fields. A blockbuster." Betty Hurt was named Favorite Actress for Movie Story, and I won the Screenwriters Guild of America's screenwriting award. In 1950, Variety magazine published a list of the highest-grossing films of the year.Three films I wrote made the list: The Bachelor and the Fashionable Lady, All Flowers and The Golden Spear.
My depression passed again, and I came to the conclusion that the psychiatrist who said I was manic-depressive must have been mistaken.I am not sick.I continued to date Donna Holloway and looked forward to spending time with her all the time. Over dinner one day, Donna said, "Do you want to meet Marilyn Monroe?" I said: "Think about it." She nodded, "I'll arrange it for you." Marilyn Monroe is a sexy idol and a superstar. Her life experience was very rough: her mother was mentally ill, she was dependent on others since she was a child, she had a failed marriage, and she couldn't stop drinking and taking drugs.However, she has one thing that no one else can take away from her: talent. The next day, Donna called, "You're having dinner with Marilyn Monroe on Friday night. Remember to pick her up at her apartment." Then she gave me the address. I eagerly look forward to Friday.Marilyn had already appeared in a number of hit blockbusters, including "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes", "Would Marry a Rich Man", and "Wonderful Medicine" with Cary Grant. That night was very different from what I had imagined.I arrived at Marilyn's apartment at the appointed time, and her girlfriend invited me in. "Miss Monroe will be out in a few minutes. She is getting dressed." The few minutes she said were actually forty-five minutes. Marilyn finally came out of the bedroom, and it was so bright. She stretched out her slender hand to hold me, and her voice was soft and moving: "Nice to meet you, Sidney. I like your work very much." We went to a restaurant in Beverly Hills. I said, "Tell me about your business." She started talking.Unexpectedly, the main objects we talked about were Dostoevsky, Pushkin and several other Russian writers.Those words, coming from such a beautiful woman, felt so incongruous, like having two very different people eating with me at the same time. In my opinion, she didn't really feel what she was saying.I later learned that she was dating Arthur Miller and Elia Kazan at the same time, both of whom became her mentors, of course.It was a good night, but I never called her again. She married Arthur Miller not long after that.
One evening in August 1962, I was having dinner with my doctor, Hey Engelbert, at his home.In the middle of the meal, he answered the phone, then returned to the dinner table and said to me, "There's an emergency. I'll be right back." He came back almost two hours later. "I'm sorry," he said, "but it was one of my patients." Then he hesitated and said, "Marilyn Monroe. She died." She was thirty-six at the time.
Harry Cohen was the director of production at Columbia, and I first met him with Donna Holloway.Cohen is known as Hollywood's toughest studio boss.He once boasted: "I don't get ulcers, I just let other people get them." It is said that he was afraid of only one person, and that was Louis B. Meyer.One day, Meyer called Cohen: "Harry, you're in trouble." Cohen asked tremblingly, "What's the trouble, LB?" "I fell in love with a contracted actor of your company." Cohen was relieved, "Take it, LB, whoever you want." During World War II, there was a saying that screenwriters who resigned from Colombia to join the army were cowards. When Harry Cohen was in his early twenties, he had a close friend, Harry Ruby.Both worked on a streetcar in New York, Harry Cohen was the conductor, Harry Ruby was the conductor, and the two were inseparable. Years later, both went to Hollywood.One night, the two got together with their female companions to reminisce about the past.Harry Cohen was the head of a film company at the time, and Harry Ruby was a successful songwriter. Harry Ruby said: "Trams are as extinct as the dinosaurs. It was fun working on them back then." Harry Ruby turned to his two female companions and nodded at Cohen. "He makes eighteen dollars a week, and I make twenty." Harry Cohn's face flushed. He growled, "I make twenty dollars, you make eighteen dollars." After that, Harry Ruby never saw Harry Cohn again.
I've seen Harry Cohen at several dinner parties.When I first met him, he was slamming the writers for how lazy they were. "I asked my screenwriter to come to the company at nine o'clock every morning, just like those secretaries." I said, "If you think they're going to write a good script for you by doing this, it's time for you to change careers." "What the hell do you know?" Then we started arguing.The next time, at another party, he recognized me again.He likes to argue with people.He invited me to lunch. "Before I sign a producer, Sheldon," he said, "I ask him about his golf club numbers." "Why are you interested in this?" "If he scores low, I don't want it. I just want a producer who's only going to make movies for me." Another time he told me: "You know when I sign a very expensive director? Right after his movie flops at the box office, that's when his value goes down." I was in Harry Cohen's office one day when the company manager's voice came over the intercom. "Harry, Donna Reed is also online. Tony's crew is going overseas, and Donna wants to go to San Francisco to accompany him before he leaves." Donna's husband, Tony Owen, is a producer. "She can't go," Cohn said, then turned to me. A minute later, the manager called again, "Harry, Donna is very sad. She probably won't see her husband for years, and we don't need her right now." "I said no," Cohen said. The manager called a third time. "Harry, Donna was crying. She said she was going anyway." Harry Cohen smiled happily, "Very well, stop her salary." I looked at him in shock and thought: What kind of monster is this next to me!
I read a wonderful novel, by George Orwell, that predicted Russia thirty-five years from now.The scenes described in the book are horrific.In my opinion, this novel could be adapted into a wonderful Broadway musical.I wrote to Orwell, requesting the right to adapt the novel for the stage. I went to Dole Shari and told him I wanted to adapt it.Liberal Dole said: "I've read the novel, it's a good book, but it's anti-Russian. You can't write a play like that." "Dole, it's going to be a major musical." "Why don't you write to Orwell and tell him that you don't think you should be anti-Russian — just anti-dictatorship. That is, not against a country." I thought about it. "Well, I'll write to him." I wrote to Orwell, and he wrote back: Dole arranged a lot of things for me, kept me busy, and finally I had to give up.
After Judy recorded the film's soundtrack, the filming officially began. When there is no drama, Judy often comes to my office to chat. "It went well, didn't it, Sidney?" She sounded nervous. "And it's beautiful, Judy." "Really?" she asked. I watched her carefully, she looked nervous.I'm curious what she will look like behind the delicate makeup. I'm starting to hear some disturbing rumors.Judy was always late, didn't recite the lines, and the shooting progress was repeatedly hindered.She would call George Sidney at two in the morning and say she might not be on set the next day. Finally, the whole filming work came to a complete stop.On the same day, the company announced that Judy Garland had been replaced.I am very sad.I wanted to call her when I heard the news, but she had gone to Europe in despair. They were going to give the part of Anne to Betty Garrett, a very talented young actress who starred in my screenplay, "Grand Prize," and her husband, Larry Parks, starred in "The King of Songs." Benny Saul goes to see Garrett's agent. "We want Betty's first option for the next three films," Saul said. Garrett's agent shook his head: "You can only let her act in this film, and you don't have the right to sign first." Thanks to this agent, Betty Garrett lost the role of a lifetime.Eventually the company signed Betty Hurt to play Annie, and the film was finally made without incident. One morning during filming, Irving Berlin came into my office and said, "Sidney, how about we write a Broadway musical together?" My heart was beating wildly.The cooperation of Erwin Berlin is a guarantee of success.I tried to keep my tone as calm as possible: "I would like to write with you, Owen." "Okay. I've got an idea." Owen started pacing up and down, telling me his idea. I glanced at my watch. I said, "I don't want to interrupt you, but I have a dinner at 12:30 and I have to go now. Can we talk about it when I get back?" "where are you going?" "The Brown Derby Hotel in Beverly Hills." "I'll drive there with you." Owen got in my car and went with me to the restaurant, with his own driver behind, so he could talk to me about his idea without waiting an hour after I finished eating.I have never seen such passion. Also that afternoon, he also told me that he was going to East Los Angeles because a young singer was going to perform one of his songs.This is Irving Berlin in his sixties, a dynamic genius at the peak of his creation. Time was cruel to him.He developed delusions in his nineties.One day, Tommy Thune, a talented Broadway producer and set designer, called him: "Owen, I want to arrange a Broadway opera, and I need to use some of your songs." "no." Tommy Thun was very surprised: "Why?" Irving Berlin lowered his voice: "There are too many people singing my songs." Unfortunately, we didn't get to write that musical in the end either.
One of the many pleasures I had in writing "Flying Swallows and Golden Spears" was meeting Howard Gill, who was tall, strong, with a beautiful voice, and was the right choice for the leading actor.Howard had a skeet shooting scene, so he had to practice shooting.I went with him to the shooting range and we had matches. He wins every time. Under the leadership of director George Sidney, the filming went smoothly, and post-production was finally completed. In 1950, "Flying Swallow Golden Gun" premiered, and the comments from all walks of life were unanimously amazing.The New York critics called it "the best musical theater film of the year". "Because of "Flying Swallow Golden Spear", watching movies has been re-arranged on the public's schedule." "Anne on the screen is better than Anne on the stage." "Kudos to Berlin and the Fields. A blockbuster." Betty Hurt was named Favorite Actress for Movie Story, and I won the Screenwriters Guild of America's screenwriting award. In 1950, Variety magazine published a list of the highest-grossing films of the year.Three films I wrote made the list: The Bachelor and the Fashionable Lady, All Flowers and The Golden Spear.
My depression passed again, and I came to the conclusion that the psychiatrist who said I was manic-depressive must have been mistaken.I am not sick.I continued to date Donna Holloway and looked forward to spending time with her all the time. Over dinner one day, Donna said, "Do you want to meet Marilyn Monroe?" I said: "Think about it." She nodded, "I'll arrange it for you." Marilyn Monroe is a sexy idol and a superstar. Her life experience was very rough: her mother was mentally ill, she was dependent on others since she was a child, she had a failed marriage, and she couldn't stop drinking and taking drugs.However, she has one thing that no one else can take away from her: talent. The next day, Donna called, "You're having dinner with Marilyn Monroe on Friday night. Remember to pick her up at her apartment." Then she gave me the address. I eagerly look forward to Friday.Marilyn had already appeared in a number of hit blockbusters, including "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes", "Would Marry a Rich Man", and "Wonderful Medicine" with Cary Grant. That night was very different from what I had imagined.I arrived at Marilyn's apartment at the appointed time, and her girlfriend invited me in. "Miss Monroe will be out in a few minutes. She is getting dressed." The few minutes she said were actually forty-five minutes. Marilyn finally came out of the bedroom, and it was so bright. She stretched out her slender hand to hold me, and her voice was soft and moving: "Nice to meet you, Sidney. I like your work very much." We went to a restaurant in Beverly Hills. I said, "Tell me about your business." She started talking.Unexpectedly, the main objects we talked about were Dostoevsky, Pushkin and several other Russian writers.Those words, coming from such a beautiful woman, felt so incongruous, like having two very different people eating with me at the same time. In my opinion, she didn't really feel what she was saying.I later learned that she was dating Arthur Miller and Elia Kazan at the same time, both of whom became her mentors, of course.It was a good night, but I never called her again. She married Arthur Miller not long after that.
One evening in August 1962, I was having dinner with my doctor, Hey Engelbert, at his home.In the middle of the meal, he answered the phone, then returned to the dinner table and said to me, "There's an emergency. I'll be right back." He came back almost two hours later. "I'm sorry," he said, "but it was one of my patients." Then he hesitated and said, "Marilyn Monroe. She died." She was thirty-six at the time.
Harry Cohen was the director of production at Columbia, and I first met him with Donna Holloway.Cohen is known as Hollywood's toughest studio boss.He once boasted: "I don't get ulcers, I just let other people get them." It is said that he was afraid of only one person, and that was Louis B. Meyer.One day, Meyer called Cohen: "Harry, you're in trouble." Cohen asked tremblingly, "What's the trouble, LB?" "I fell in love with a contracted actor of your company." Cohen was relieved, "Take it, LB, whoever you want." During World War II, there was a saying that screenwriters who resigned from Colombia to join the army were cowards. When Harry Cohen was in his early twenties, he had a close friend, Harry Ruby.Both worked on a streetcar in New York, Harry Cohen was the conductor, Harry Ruby was the conductor, and the two were inseparable. Years later, both went to Hollywood.One night, the two got together with their female companions to reminisce about the past.Harry Cohen was the head of a film company at the time, and Harry Ruby was a successful songwriter. Harry Ruby said: "Trams are as extinct as the dinosaurs. It was fun working on them back then." Harry Ruby turned to his two female companions and nodded at Cohen. "He makes eighteen dollars a week, and I make twenty." Harry Cohn's face flushed. He growled, "I make twenty dollars, you make eighteen dollars." After that, Harry Ruby never saw Harry Cohn again.
I've seen Harry Cohen at several dinner parties.When I first met him, he was slamming the writers for how lazy they were. "I asked my screenwriter to come to the company at nine o'clock every morning, just like those secretaries." I said, "If you think they're going to write a good script for you by doing this, it's time for you to change careers." "What the hell do you know?" Then we started arguing.The next time, at another party, he recognized me again.He likes to argue with people.He invited me to lunch. "Before I sign a producer, Sheldon," he said, "I ask him about his golf club numbers." "Why are you interested in this?" "If he scores low, I don't want it. I just want a producer who's only going to make movies for me." Another time he told me: "You know when I sign a very expensive director? Right after his movie flops at the box office, that's when his value goes down." I was in Harry Cohen's office one day when the company manager's voice came over the intercom. "Harry, Donna Reed is also online. Tony's crew is going overseas, and Donna wants to go to San Francisco to accompany him before he leaves." Donna's husband, Tony Owen, is a producer. "She can't go," Cohn said, then turned to me. A minute later, the manager called again, "Harry, Donna is very sad. She probably won't see her husband for years, and we don't need her right now." "I said no," Cohen said. The manager called a third time. "Harry, Donna was crying. She said she was going anyway." Harry Cohen smiled happily, "Very well, stop her salary." I looked at him in shock and thought: What kind of monster is this next to me!
I read a wonderful novel, by George Orwell, that predicted Russia thirty-five years from now.The scenes described in the book are horrific.In my opinion, this novel could be adapted into a wonderful Broadway musical.I wrote to Orwell, requesting the right to adapt the novel for the stage. I went to Dole Shari and told him I wanted to adapt it.Liberal Dole said: "I've read the novel, it's a good book, but it's anti-Russian. You can't write a play like that." "Dole, it's going to be a major musical." "Why don't you write to Orwell and tell him that you don't think you should be anti-Russian — just anti-dictatorship. That is, not against a country." I thought about it. "Well, I'll write to him." I wrote to Orwell, and he wrote back: Dole arranged a lot of things for me, kept me busy, and finally I had to give up.