Hooray for Hollywood: A history of the cinema

Director Frank Capra, speaking of the epicenter of the American film industry, once said, “Most people think about Hollywood as a fixed place, one thing, never changing from its beginning to now. Just, you know, ‘Hollywood.’” 

The massive “Hollywood: The Oral History” will disabuse anyone of that notion. Capra, who helmed classics including “It’s a Wonderful Life” and “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” is among the hundreds of talents, famous and obscure, quoted in the delightful, illuminating book, which charts the evolution of American cinema.   

Authors and film historians Jeanine Basinger and Sam Wasson sifted through transcripts of nearly 3,000 interviews archived at the American Film Institute. The narrative – composed of recollections that are informative, insightful, poignant, and gossipy – is weighted toward the first half of the 20th century, including the era of silent films and the golden age of the studio system. 

The early days were relaxed. Director Raoul Walsh, a founding member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, says of the silent era, “Everybody had fun. ... Great camaraderie. You were never sued. And of course it was all easier on the set, looser, because there was no dialogue ... you had to learn.” 

The advent of sound in the 1920s was the first major shift. One producer recalls Jack Warner, president of Warner Bros. Studios, predicting “that sound thing will be dead in two weeks.”  

As the movie industry expanded, it became more centralized and hierarchical. The studio system comes in for both criticism and praise. “High Noon” director Fred Zinnemann summarizes the pros and cons, saying, “A lot of people feel, quite rightly, that the studio system was oppressive in many ways. The bureaucracy was enormous. They could fire you, but you couldn’t quit because of the ironclad contract you had to sign. On the other hand, the studio gave you a chance to learn your professional craft in a continuous manner without having to fight from one thing to the next.” 

Basinger and Wasson devote a chapter to the studio workforce, highlighting not only stars and directors but also camera operators, editors, costume designers, and composers. Again, some note the drawbacks. “The writer couldn’t defend his script,” recalled Donald Ogden Stewart, who penned classics including “Love Affair” and “The Philadelphia Story.” “He was the lowest cog, really, next to the electrician or the cameraman. The first thing you had to learn was not to let them break your heart.”  

The system’s demise is attributed to a range of factors: the formation of unions, Hays Code censorship, the competition created by television, and the McCarthy hearings. Particularly notable was the 1948 Supreme Court decision that ended the studios’ monopolistic practice of “block booking,” whereby studios forced theaters to buy films in packages, ensuring a market for mediocre fare in addition to A-list material. 

The book chronicles shifts in the balance of power over the decades, from studios and producers to directors to stars and even to agents. Despite all the changes, some themes emerge: the persistent tension between art and commerce and the impossibility of predicting what will be a hit.  

Another theme concerns the ongoing challenges faced by racial minorities and women, long excluded from positions of power. Sidney Poitier recalls, “When I first walked on the 20th Century-Fox lot, the only other Black person there was the shoeshine boy.” Barbra Streisand says she heard that people called her difficult because she “always wanted to control things,” adding, “Actually, that’s not true. I’ve never really had control, and that’s the reason I formed my own company, was to begin having control.” 

After chapters describing pressures created by technological advances, bloated budgets, and foreign markets, Basinger and Wasson give the last word to studio executive and producer David Picker, who notes that “the movies somehow always survive.”