THE BROTHERS MANKIEWICZ: HOPE, HEARTBREAK, AND HOLLYWOOD CLASSICS
By Sydney Ladensohn Stern
University Press of Mississippi. 468 pages.
£34.95. ISBN 978-1-61703-267-7
Reviewed by Jim Burns
The life of a screenwriter in
Hollywood was never all that easy. Writers hardly rated highly in
the studio pecking order, and their work, if it wasn’t already the
result of a collaborative effort with several additional writers,
could be re-written by directors, producers, and actors. It was true
that writers could be well-paid by the standards that applied
outside the film industry, but they were poorly paid in comparison
to the people who could interfere with their scripts. And their
terms of employment were often temporary. Short-term contracts were
not renewed if a writer couldn’t produce what was wanted quickly. It
was often a case of “We don’t want it good, we want it Tuesday”.
More writers could always be
brought in to improve it. Studios were like factories and designed
to produce a product called movies.
The brothers Mankiewicz – Herman
and Joseph – stayed the course in Hollywood, and were usually
in receipt of earnings that others might envy. They were both
linked to films that have a place in screen history, and their names
are remembered because of that fact. But not everything ran smoothly
for them, and, for varying reasons, they had their share of the many
difficulties that a career in films almost inevitably involved.
Herman, the older of the two, was
born in 1897, and Joseph in 1909. In childhood Joseph always looked
up to Herman, and later in life he took on the responsibilities of
picking up the pieces as his older brother’s life began to fall
apart. They were both heavily influenced by their father, a teacher
and later professor who expected high standards and was not in
favour of popular culture, including the cinema. Sydney Ladensohn
Stern describes him as a “harsh parent”. She also tells the story of
Herman’s feelings when a bicycle he had been given as a Christmas
present was stolen. It was an incident that imprinted itself on him
and was a shaping factor when, much later, he worked on the
screenplay for Citizen Kane.
A bright student, Herman applied
to go to Columbia University in New York, but because of his age had
to wait a year before acceptance. His father sent him to work in the
coal mines near Wilkes-Barre in Pennsylvania, where the family was
then living. Stern says that Herman always valued the experience of
working with the miners, who taught him to smoke and drink, and he
admired their camaraderie. But he was never a radical, and in the
1930s, when the Screen Writers Guild was established, he refused to
join it, and instead aligned himself with a rival, more-conservative
organisation designed to represent the interests of writers
in the studio system.
Herman had an active life as a
student and enlisted in the armed forces in 1918. He arrived in
France in early November, but was too late to find himself in a
combat situation. Before leaving New York he had started writing
book reviews and articles for the New York Tribune, and when he returned from Europe he continued to
pursue a career in journalism. He was also deeply interested in the
theatre and anxious to write plays. I’m not giving a complete
account of Herman’s travels and experiences in the early 1920s. He
visited Paris and Berlin, and in New York wrote for the
New York Times and the
newly-started New Yorker.
His work as a theatre critic introduced him to the legendary
Algonquin Round Table, and its often hard-drinking characters like
Dorothy Parker, Alexander Woollcott and George S. Kaufman. He also
knew Ben Hecht, Louise Brooks and Harpo Marx.
In 1926 the lively and likeable
Herman moved to Hollywood, attracted by stories of the high salaries
paid for turning out what appeared to be routine scenarios. His
intention was to earn enough to settle some debts – he gambled as
well as drank – and then return to New York. Like others at the
time, he had little fondness for the cinema and saw it as inferior
in both content and intention to the theatre. Working in Hollywood,
Herman had to adhere to its conventions. As Stern puts it, “Movies
grew out of peep shows and vaudeville. They started as commerce and
developed into art”, and art was ok provided it made money. She
quotes Herman as saying: “When the producer says to you, ‘Now in
Reel Three the fellow shouldn’t kiss the girl, he should kiss the
cow’, that fellow was going to kiss the cow and there wasn’t a thing
the writer could do about it”.
Faced with situations like that,
Herman rarely took his work in Hollywood too seriously. Perhaps his
general view was summed up in a telegram to Ben Hecht encouraging
him to come to Hollywood, part of which read, “Millions are to be
grabbed out here, and your only competition is idiots”.
And Herman, although he had a
wife and children to support, took advantage of his capacity to earn
high fees for what he wrote by spending much of his income on
drinking and gambling. And he continued to yearn for a move back to
New York and the world of the theatre.
Did Herman connect with any major
films during his time in Hollywood?
Citizen Kane (1938)
is probably the only one, and his contribution to that was for a
long time disputed. Orson Welles often claimed to have written most
of the screenplay, and downplayed what Herman had added. But Stern
makes a convincing case for Herman being the main source of it, and
she points out that his memories of the bicycle he lost when young
were likely behind the word “Rosebud” that Kane utters as he dies.
The bicycle and the sledge represented lost innocence.
It would be unfair to overlook
some other films that Herman had links to. He worked on
Monkey Business (1931)
with the Marx Brothers, and on
Dinner at Eight (1933)
which, as a stage play, had been a hit on Broadway, and became a
popular film. There was
Million Dollar Legs (1932), hailed as a “surrealist masterpiece”
by the artist and photographer, Man Ray. Later, he wrote
Christmas Holiday (1944),
often included in lists of film noir material and notable for Deanna
Durbin and Gene Kelly playing uncharacteristic roles. Some attention
should also be paid to Mad Dog
of Europe, an attack on Hitler and the rise of the Nazis that
Herman struggled in vain to get into production. Despite his
reputation for drinking and flippancy he was politically astute
enough to understand what was happening in Germany and elsewhere as
state-sponsored anti-Semitism gained a foothold in various
countries.
Joseph Mankiewicz, who still
looked up to his brother, had followed him to Hollywood. Like
Herman, he thought of the cinema as having less importance than the
theatre. Both brothers can be seen as wanting to please their father
by creating something good in his terms, which may not have been the
best sort of influence for them. If someone has their mind set
against something they are convinced is inferior then it’s difficult
to convince them that it can have qualities worthy of attention.
“Pop” Mankiewicz never did think much of films as art.
Joseph’s first film for MGM was
Manhattan Melodrama (1934)
which featured Myrna Loy and William Powell, and turned out to be a
box-office success. He
shared credit for the screenplay with Oliver H.P. Garrett, He also
contributed dialogue to King Vidor’s
Our Daily Bread (1934), a
socially-conscious film about a collective farm during the
Depression. Vidor later disparaged Joseph’s contributions to the
script, saying they were no more than a few adjustments here and
there.
Persuaded to take on the role of
a producer, Joseph spent some time overseeing the work of other
writers and directors.. It was not a task he was completely happy
with, though it raised his earnings beyond what he would have
received writing screenplays. And he needed the money. Herman was
frequently in debt or trouble of one sort or another, and relied on
Joseph to come to his rescue. But one advantage that being a
producer brought was the power to order re-writes when necessary.
Joseph, as a producer, could not claim any screenwriting credits
unless he had written the full script, but he was in a position to
make revisions and replace writers when required.
An example was when he brought in
F. Scott Fitzgerald to work on
Three Comrades 1938) which, in Stern’s words, “could have been
the industry’s first major openly anti-Nazi film”. But it was based
on a novel by Erich Maria Remarque, whose books had been burned by
the Nazis, and interference by the German Consul in Los Angeles, the
Catholic Legion of Decency, film censor Joseph Breen, and studio
heads worried about possible effects on the sales of their films in
Germany, led to references to Jews and Catholics being removed from
the script: “Remarque’s powerful political drama was reduced to
romantic melodrama”.
Breen even wanted the Nazi thugs changed into communists.
Joseph left MGM and went to work
at Twentieth Century Fox. He wrote and directed
A Letter to Three Wives
(1949), which was both a
critical and commercial success. And gave him some standing as an
astute social critic. This was further enhanced when he used his
skills as writer/director for
All About Eve (1949), a sharp observation of the world of the
theatre in which an ambitious young woman ruthlessly claws her way
to stardom by exploiting her relationship with an older, established
actress. It’s a film that has become something of a cult classic
over the years and bears repeated watching for Mankiewicz’s work and
his capacity to get the best out of his actors, including Bette
Davies and Ann Baxter.
Herman’s career had been in
decline as he drank his way through the late-1940s and early-1950s,
and he died in 1953. Joseph continued to work steadily. He directed
Julius Caesar (1953),
which starred Rex Harrison, John Gielgud and Marlon Brando. He
then turned his attention to Hollywood and, almost biting the hand
that fed him, wrote and directed
The Barefoot Contessa
(1954), in which Ava Gardner played a Spanish dancer discovered by a
wealthy man anxious to put money into a film. He’s accompanied by a
washed-out, cynical director (played by Humphrey Bogart) and an
obsequious publicity man (Edmond O’Brien in excellent form), both of
them anxious to please the man with the money. The film wasn’t a
complete success, perhaps partly because of a somewhat contrived
ending. And there had been intrusions from Howard Hughes, who
suspected, not without reason, that the money man was based on him.
Nor had everything been comfortable among the cast. Bogart had
little regard for Gardner’s talents as an actress.
If there had been difficulties
with The Barefoot Contessa
they were nothing compared to what Joseph experienced when he
directed Cleopatra (1963), an
extravaganza that featured Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, and Rex
Harrison. It was an experience from which, according to Stern,
Joseph “never really recovered”. There have been books and
documentaries about the making of the film. It ran wildly
over-budget, suffered from studio interference, was affected by the
behaviour of its stars, and in the end didn’t impress the critics.
There was even a dispute about screenwriting credits, and finally
Joseph, Ranald MacDougall, and Sidney Buchman shared them. Buchman
was a blacklisted writer living in Europe.
It might have seemed that
Joseph’s career would end with a failure, but he did close it with
Sleuth (1972) and its fine
performances from Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine. He died in
1993.
I’ve only managed to refer to a
few of the films that Herman and Joseph Mankiewicz were involved
with. Some of their work was admittedly routine, and in Herman’s
case was obviously badly affected by his alcoholism. But they both
were also responsible for films that have stood the test of time.
And even in their minor moments there are flashes of dialogue or
direction that come alive. It wasn’t easy creating art in Hollywood,
where the dollar reigned supreme and everyone had a better idea
about how a film should be made than the writers and directors, but
Herman and Joseph Mankiewicz did at times achieve it.
The Brothers Mankiewicz
is informative and
entertaining. It has numerous
notes and a useful bibliography, and testifies to some dedicated
research. I should add that the emphasis in the book
is rightly on their activities with regard to working in
Hollywood. But there are sufficient details about their personal
lives, in terms of wives, children, and other relationships, to
round out their stories.
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