Jack L. Warner: The Last Mogul (2023) Movie Script

When modern
art lights illuminate
the Hollywood heavens,
it's a sign of a premiere
of a new and important
motion picture.
The largest premiere crowd
in many years witnessed
the Hollywood opening
of Warner Brothers' production
of Shakespeare's play
A Midsummer Night's Dream.
The great and near great
of movieland,
dressed in their best,
turned out en masse
to greet this new innovation
in talking pictures.
Flash lights pop.
Radio announcers
describe the happenings
to unseen millions.
It was one of the most
brilliant premieres
in the history of Hollywood.
The crowd goes wild
as Bette Davis arrives
and poses with her husband
for the newspaper photographers.
No wonder
thousands of movie fans
jammed the streets
in excitement.
Here is Jack L. Warner,
vice president
in charge of production
for Warner Brothers.
I think one
of the most interesting things
about the motion picture
industry in the United States
is that the individuals
who created
the motion picture industry
were marginalized men.
They were all
Russian immigrants,
or Hungarian immigrants,
uh, German immigrants.
They were all Jewish.
Uh, they were
all poverty stricken.
Uh, they were all
what no one in America
at that time,
turn of the century,
would have regarded as
Americans, mainstream Americans.
They certainly were not that.
And yet these individuals
came to create
an industry that is
quintessentially American,
and through that industry
created a mythology
about this country
that defines this country.
We are defined
by our movies,
and the people
who defined our movies
were marginal Americans.
And I-- and I think
that's a delicious irony.
And who was Jack Warner?
Well, he was a--
he was a stand-up comic
with a mustache
and a cigar in his mouth,
and when he walked
into a room,
uh, the room would light up
one way or the other.
Either, people would--
would get up
and walk out of the room,
if he was there,
or they would sit
and absolutely be mesmerized
by this very individual
human being.
And if somebody had to guess
what he did for a living,
they would never,
ever imagine
that he was a movie mogul,
or the head of a studio.
When he was 12 years old,
Gregory Orr made a home movie.
Six, five, four,
three, two, one.
All engines running.
In the movie,
he and a friend play astronauts
whose spaceship collides
with a meteor.
After crash landing
on a strange planet,
the young astronauts awaken
and, each believing
the other had been killed,
journey their separate ways
in search of help.
The movie concludes
with each astronaut
discovering it is not
just his comrade who has died
and gone to heaven
but himself as well.
The film was made at the home
of Gregory's late grandparents
Ann and Jack Warner,
and it is with good reason
that he titled it Paradise.
Now, some 25 years later,
Gregory Orr was returning
to the site of those memories,
to the home everyone knew
by its address, 1801.
My grandparents
lived in this beautiful
nine-acre estate
in Beverly Hills,
that, when I was a kid,
was a magical place
to visit.
The estate was
about to be sold,
so, like many children
who returned
to the home of parents,
or grandparents
who have recently died,
Gregory was coming back
to remember the man and woman
who built such splendor
and lived in its comfort
for nearly 50 years.
Each place
in this beautiful estate
was-- was really
a magical playground for me.
The waterfalls were
an adventure in themselves
as I'd climb up there
as a kid,
so the whole feeling
of the house
was really something removed
from the normal world.
My brother, sister,
and I were always
on our best behavior
when we went up there.
And, uh, though
we found ways to be,
in a sense,
children of play,
we never felt
as comfortable there
as we felt at the homes
of our other grandparents.
It was a little
like going to see royalty,
and you were treated well
and were included,
but we children had
to be seen and not heard.
Jack Warner was
one of the few men
who actually owned Hollywood
in the 1930s, '40s, and '50s.
Along with his brothers,
who founded
Warner Brothers Studios,
they were considered
the pioneers
of the film industry.
When I was growing up,
I knew my grandfather
was an important man.
He had photographs
at home and in his office,
photographs with movie stars
and presidents and so forth.
But I think the thing
that-- that convinced me
that he was really important was
when I was about 12 years old,
and I was in the back seat
of his car,
and he's driving
along Sunset Boulevard.
And he's talking away
and not paying any attention
to the fact that he's driving
through every red light in town.
Until finally,
a cop comes along,
pulls us over,
comes up to the window,
my grandfather gives him
his license,
and the cop suddenly
becomes very nice
and says,
"Oh, Mr. Warner, uh,
"just be a little more careful
in the future
"and-- and have a good day,"
and-- and lets us go.
So that convinced me
that this guy had some clout.
When you think
of Warner Brothers movies,
you think of speed...
...you think of action.
You think
of an urban environment,
you think of Cagney,
Edward G. Robinson,
Humphrey Bogart,
Bette Davis.
No other studio
has stars like those.
- What's up, doc?
- One for you.
And I believe
those stars,
the Cagneys
and the-- the Bogarts
and the Robinsons
and the Davises
are all made in the image
of Jack Warner.
That is how Jack Warner
idealized himself.
A fast-talking
flashy underdog.
That underdog element
is prevalent in almost
all of Warner's movies
in the '30s
and into the '40s.
I see him
as the superstar himself.
I think that's the way
he thought of himself.
He was a dashing man,
Jack was.
And I-- I think he--
I think he-- he kind of
uh, played the-- the role
that he never did on film.
Uh, I-- I had
that feeling about him.
He was-- he was a-- he was
a swashbuckler in life.
He liked to be the mogul,
the movie mogul
of the Warner Brothers.
And he liked the fact
that, uh, that he was running
one of the best studios.
I'm sure he was not perfect.
He certainly had
his shortcomings,
but he certainly ran,
for a long, long time,
a studio in a day
when there were
fast turnovers
of management elsewhere
and new people coming in here,
musical chairs going on.
He hung in a long time.
I have an image of Mr. Warner,
who was very sure of himself,
who was a very funny guy,
always dressed beautifully,
collected magnificent antiques,
had a lot of,
uh, unique character.
He was a unique character,
like Sam Goldwyn,
like L. B. Mayer.
He was just
a great, classic fellow.
A lot of people say that
my grandfather told bad jokes.
I'm not really sure
all the jokes were bad,
simply because of the way
he delivered them.
There was
such a spirit about him,
such life to him,
that it rubbed off on you,
so you'd laugh,
even if you didn't
find it funny,
just because
he was so lively.
He'd go into his routine
the minute he met
a new person, and certainly,
if it was an attractive female,
which, obviously,
he thought I was at the time.
I mean, I was--
he was in his glory
telling me all the--
all the new jokes that he had.
He always said
that I was favorite comedian,
or one of his favorites,
but he really loved Jack Benny,
I think more than anyone,
but Benny once summed up
Jack Warner,
he said, you know,
"He'd rather tell a bad joke
than to make a good movie."
I think my grandfather
did not have a self-censor,
or if he did,
he'd leave it at home
most of the time.
Even when Albert Einstein
came to visit the studio,
my grandfather said to him,
"You know, Professor,
"I have a theory
about relatives, too.
Don't hire 'em."
We're looking
at one crowd one night,
and they were gowned,
beautiful,
and they were
the top people in Hollywood.
And he said, "Look at them,"
he said, "Look at our stars.
"Aren't they beautiful?
They're beautiful people."
He said, "It's no wonder
they screw each other."
They don't make too many men
like my father,
which is, in a certain sense,
that's-- that's good
for humanity,
but it's also not too good,
because it takes people
who are out of the ordinary,
maybe a little warped
here and there,
are cracked there
and other places,
to push the rest of us
who aren't.
He was
the last of the moguls.
He was the last one.
But you know,
as-- as loving,
you know, he--
there were many facets of him,
wonderful sense of humor,
very compassionate,
very loving,
but also very, very,
very cruel.
I mean to the point
that he could be loving,
he could--
he could be cruel.
I mean, it was amazing,
that part of him
that-- that you never knew--
you never knew
when it was going to come up.
He could just turn--
he-- he could just
turn on you
just like that.
In the 1920s,
silent motion pictures
were strongly established
as popular entertainment.
There was a general belief
at that time that
motion pictures had progressed
as far as they go.
My brothers and I
believed otherwise.
We were determined to break
the barrier of silence
and bring full life
to the screen
by giving it a voice
that would be heard
around the world.
Of the four Warner Brothers,
Harry was the oldest,
followed by Albert, Sam,
and then Jack.
The brothers' parents,
Ben and Pearl Warner,
were Polish Jews who had
emigrated to the United States
in the late 19th century
after leaving the tiny village
of Krasnosielc, Poland,
90 kilometers north of Warsaw.
Ben Warner didn't leave Europe
to be a tourist.
He left because the Cossacks
were coming into his town
and grabbing hold
of all the young men
and then putting them
in the army
and raping the daughters
and burning the village.
And he got out
with his oldest sons
and then sent for his wife
and daughters later,
and he did it to survive.
The Warner Brothers' family
is a very interesting case.
Uh, it's filled with tension,
tension that
ultimately, I think,
is manifested in the studio
and in the movies
that the studio made.
On the one side,
you have the older siblings,
particularly Harry.
Those siblings,
most of whom,
all of whom, in fact,
were born in Europe,
uh, are more traditional.
Uh, they are--
are more old world.
Then, on the other side of--
of what I might call
the fault line
in the Warner's family,
you have the younger siblings,
Sam and Jack.
Um, they are
much more Americanized.
Uh, Jack being born in Canada,
in fact, he was not a--
an immigrant.
In 1881,
the Warner Brothers' father,
Ben, arrived
in Baltimore, Maryland.
He opened
a small shoe repair shop
and within a year
had saved enough money
to send for his wife
and two children
back in Poland.
In 1890, the Warners moved north
to London, Ontario,
in Canada,
where Ben sold pots and pans
to the local fur traders,
in exchange for pelts.
But he had a partner
who he would send
these pelts to,
but the partner fled
and took all the money with him.
So, Ben Warner was, once more,
back in the poor house.
Uh, this would happen
several times
to the Warner family,
they would start to build up,
something would happen
and they'd be back to-- to zero.
Perhaps the only good to come
from Ben and Pearl Warner's
hardships in Canada
was the birth
of their ninth child
on August 2nd, 1892.
They gave him the traditional
Jewish name of Jacob,
but in the new world
in which he was born,
he would always
be known as Jack.
In 1894,
the Warner family returned
to the United States
and settled
in the bustling industrial town
of Youngstown, Ohio.
It would be here that
the Warner Brothers would find
their future
in a new form of entertainment
called the movies.
They came from nothing.
You know, they had nothing.
And they brought themselves up
by their bootstraps.
And-- and Jack had
a saying where he said,
"You know, if we were told
we couldn't do something,
we knew we were
on the right track."
They tried everything.
They had operated
an ice cream cone machine.
They opened up
a bowling alley.
They had a bicycle shop.
They tried any kind of business
they could find.
It was this industriousness
of the Warner Brothers, I think,
that would eventually pay off,
when they got
into the movie business,
because they were very close
to their audience.
They knew people
by all these businesses
they had been in.
They had been
in very close contact
with the very same people
they would eventually be
showing movies to,
and I think that was
a big secret to their success.
My father, I think,
had a lot of gypsy in him.
I think today
you'd be a little concerned
of a boy like that,
because he was out
on the streets a hell of a lot.
I see, in my mind,
pictures of him,
um, getting
thrown out of places
for being a pest.
He was, um...
a juvenile delinquent
ahead of his time.
My grandfather was really
a frustrated performer.
As a child,
he had taken on
the stage name of Leon Zuardo,
the boy soprano.
He actually had
a pretty good voice.
He'd taken
some lessons from a man
in Youngstown, Ohio,
and he'd taken
about three lessons.
He was supposed
to get five lessons
for "X" amount of dollars,
and the guy died.
So he says,
"I never got my voice."
So, then he did the--
then he did
some vaudeville
with a young guy,
ran around the country,
and, so, he-- he was a ham bone.
Underneath all that skill
he had running his studio,
he really wanted to be
an actor, I think.
Maybe that's why
he didn't like actors.
They were acting
and he wasn't, I don't know.
It was called a Kinetoscope,
and it was invented
by Thomas Edison to show movies.
Unveiled commercially in 1894,
the device unwound its brief,
flickering images,
to the amazement of viewers
in the US and Europe.
By 1896,
inventors in France,
England, Germany
and the United States,
all working separately,
had adapted Edison's idea
and begun to build machines
that would project
the image onto a screen.
These first projectors
heralded the arrival
of the motion picture industry
and gave birth
to thousands of movie theaters
called nickelodeons.
In 1903,
Jack's brother, Sam Warner,
became intrigued
by movie projectors
after working as a projectionist
for Hales Tours,
then a concession at White City
Amusement Park, in Chicago.
A projector had been set up
in the back
of a mocked up railroad car.
A film showing a tour
through Yosemite National Park
was projected on the screen,
and the train car was rocked
up and down
to add to the effect.
When a similar show
came to Youngstown,
Sam rushed home
and got the projectionist job.
Soon, the entire
Warner family was sold
on the possibilities of this
new form of entertainment.
When a second-hand
Edison projector
became available
at the bargain price of $150,
the family
pooled their resources.
But it was not enough.
What they ended up doing
was turning to
their delivery wagon horse,
Bob, and pawned him,
and with that
they had enough money
to buy the projector.
The projector
came with the print
of The Great Train Robbery.
Though only 12 minutes long,
it is considered
a landmark film today,
for it was one of the first
movies with a storyline.
It was also a giant success,
and with it the Warner boys
toured towns and carnivals
in Ohio and Pennsylvania.
By the end
of their first week,
they had made over $300,
more than their father
made in a month
back at the family store.
With the success
of The Great Train Robbery,
the Warner Brothers set up
a nickelodeon of their own
in nearby Newcastle,
Pennsylvania,
and called it
the Bijou Theater.
With 99 chairs borrowed
from a local undertaker,
the Bijou opened its doors
to capacity audiences,
hungry for entertainment.
It was such
a success, this theater,
uh, that people were staying
to see the show
over and over again,
not allowing
new customers to get in.
So, the brothers
sent for their--
their secret weapon,
which was my grandfather,
who would take the trolley
from Youngstown,
and in between shows
would get up on stage and sing.
In 1907,
Jack's oldest brother Harry
decided that the real profits
lay in film distribution,
where money could be made
from the rental of films
to hundreds,
if not thousands of theaters.
In Pittsburgh,
Harry, Albert, and Sam
opened the Duquesne
Amusement Supply Company,
where 15-year-old Jack
soon joined them
after convincing his father
to let him leave home.
Ben Warner had
never really appreciated
his son's irreverent
sense of humor.
Jack had been
the problem boy,
the kid who had been
thrown out of Hebrew school
after yanking
the rabbi's beard.
In his autobiography,
Jack notes that on the day
he and his father
traveled together to Pittsburgh
to meet Jack's brothers,
there seemed to be a truce.
"We got off the train
and went down the street
"to a little restaurant he knew.
"He handed me a menu,
but I knew what I wanted.
"I wanted ham and eggs,
a dish that was never served
"at our kosher home.
"But I was afraid
he would scold me.
"'Come now, boy,' he said.
'Well, what are you gonna eat?'
"'If it's all right with you,
Pop,' I blurted,
"'I'd like ham and eggs.'
"'Fine, boy,' he said,
"'I'll have the same,
country style.'
"Our eyes met
and we smiled.
"Fellow schemers
sharing a secret sin.
I would never again be
as close to him."
In 1912,
the Warners embarked
on their
first film production
with the forgettable
two-reel Western
called Perils of the Plains,
directed by Sam
and written by Jack.
More films followed
of equal quality.
Ordered west
by Harry in 1912,
to open a film exchange office
in San Francisco,
20-year-old Jack
happily found himself
on his own
for the very first time,
making decisions
far from the watchful eyes
of his older brothers back east.
There's a story Jack told
that he had rounded up $5,000,
and it was
some baseball picture,
and they hired the stadium,
and they spent all the money,
and the cameraman had not taken
the lens cover off.
So there went the $5,000.
I never did hear
how he got another 5,000,
but they finally
made the picture.
My mother's family financed
some of his operations,
some picture making.
Now I remember my mother
once saying to me,
"You think
he ever paid them back?"
Because she was
annoyed by it.
But no, I figure, you know,
you get paid back in other ways.
So they had a happy life
for many, many years.
When Jack Warner
married, uh, Irma,
uh, he was marrying up.
She was a--
a German, she was--
who in fact was a practicing
as much Christian Science
as she was Judaism,
and that's important,
uh, because it was clear
that Jack was-- was on a--
was on a station
to assimilation
as so many
of the Hollywood moguls were.
And his wife,
this blonde wife of his,
was the first step,
was the first station
on that road.
I can only remember very happy,
exciting, interesting times.
My father was a vigorous,
buoyant, uh, man
and, uh, he, uh, dominated
the scene when he was in it.
He-- I kind of remember him
wearing riding pants and boots
like the old
Cecil B. DeMille type.
America's entry
into World War One in 1917
inspired the patriotic
Harry Warner
to produce the company's
first unqualified success.
My Four Years in Germany,
based on the popular book
by America's ambassador
to Germany,
told of alleged
wartime atrocities
committed by
the Kaiser's troops.
By 1919,
the Warner Brothers
felt successful enough to move
to Los Angeles, California,
fast becoming
the film capital of the world,
and open
a movie studio of their own.
California, here I come
Right back
where I started from
Where bowers of flowers
bloom in the sun
Each morning at dawning
birdies sing at everything
A sun-kissed miss said
"Don't be late"
That's why I can hardly wait
Come on!
Open up that Golden Gate
California, here I come
California
Here I come, yeah
Right back
where I started from
Where bowers of flowers
bloom in the spring
Each morning at dawning
the birdies sing at everything
A sun-kissed miss said,
"Don't be late"
That's why I can hardly wait
Come on!
Open up, open up, open up
that Golden Gate
California
Here I come
The early 1920s saw
the continued expansion
of the studio,
with Harry and Albert overseeing
business from New York
while Sam and Jack supervised
production in Hollywood.
Though still considered
a second-class studio,
the Brothers' ambition
enabled them on occasion
to hire first-grade talent,
such as the great actor
John Barrymore.
The brother's biggest star
at the time, though,
was not an actor at all,
but a dog.
Rin Tin Tin was
the brainchild
of a 24-year-old writer
named Darryl F. Zanuck,
who would soon rise to become
head of all production
under Jack Warner.
Sam once
told me that there were times
when they had
$1.63 between them.
And you know,
he used to go to Europe
and sell Rin Tin Tin pictures
that meet the payroll.
My mother once said
something about
how all her jewels
were in hock for a while.
Moviemaking then was
a very, very ad lib,
haphazard,
fun kind of a thing.
My father produced
and wrote and directed,
and there were times
when we all--
the whole family acted.
And remember now,
these were the Warner Brothers.
There were not
a lot of studios
that were run by a family.
Their strength was their--
was their unity
as a-- as a business team,
and they each had,
uh, their own ability.
Jack was always the one,
who was the production guy.
Harry was the businessman,
and he was in control of things
and set policy, mostly
at that time from New York.
Albert was in charge
of distribution and sales.
He was called Honest Abe.
You know, everybody loved him.
He-- everybody trusted him.
Uh, Sam, certainly
with his ability
to look around the corner
like a periscope
and see what was coming,
I mean, Sam had that ability.
He also was a buffer
between Jack and Harry.
Well, I mean, I think
one of my greatest regrets
was the friction
between Harry and Jack.
Uh, but that was
their natures.
But I think it was mainly
that my father resented
authority
of his older brother,
and this goes back
to when he was a little kid
being pushed around
by older brothers.
Well, they all fought
amongst themselves.
The sisters fought
amongst themselves.
Everybody was fighting
all the time.
And hating each other.
So, you know,
why did I expect to be loved?
I think the tension
between Harry and Jack
was very healthy
for Warner Brothers movies,
whatever it did to their own
personal relationship
and to the family,
because it created
a kind of edge
to Warner Brothers
that I don't believe
any other studio had.
Wait a minute, wait a minute.
You ain't heard nothing yet.
Wait a minute, I tell ya.
You ain't heard nothing.
You wanna hear
a good, good, good thing?
All right, hold on, hold on.
"Who the hell
wants to hear actors talk?"
was Harry Warner's
first reaction
to the idea
of talking pictures.
But Sam Warner
soon convinced him
that the future lay in sound.
In 1925, Warner Brothers,
in cooperation with
the engineers at Bell Labs,
began developing a sound system
called Vitaphone.
A complicated device
that synchronized
a film projector
with a pre-recorded disc.
You couldn't live
with Sam Warner
and not be enthusiastic,
but the brothers thought
it was a toy phonograph.
They-- they ridiculed it.
The other studios weren't
particularly interested
because it meant
changing, you know,
modifying the studios,
the soundstages,
the-- the theaters.
Putting in speakers in--
in the projection booth,
changing everything
to accommodate something
that they didn't need,
and also they didn't know
whether the audience
would accept it.
Thanks, boys.
Jazz Singer is
a very interesting film
to be the, kind of,
milestone picture of--
of the Warner Brothers Studio.
Here is a movie
that is about a--
a Jewish kid,
the son of a cantor,
deeply religious,
who is making the adjustment
to America
through entertainment.
Leaving behind
all of his religious upbringing
and all of those traditions,
and embracing
the world of showbiz,
which is quintessentially
American.
Of course,
that's the very tension within
the Warner Brothers' family
between Harry
on the one hand, the--
the-- the religious side
and Jack on the other,
the show business side.
Though Jack Warner
was very much involved
in the making
of The Jazz Singer
and signed Al Jolson
in the leading role,
it was Sam Warner who oversaw
the daily production problems
confronting the picture.
He produced
The Jazz Singer,
he had to put up
with Al Jolson and--
and Jolson was
a great performer,
but, in my opinion,
he was never
a very nice human being.
Working around the clock,
Sam exhausted himself
to complete the picture in time
for its New York premiere
on October 6th, 1927.
While Jack, Harry,
and Albert were back east,
preparing for the opening,
Sam fell ill
and was rushed
to a Los Angeles hospital.
Stricken with
a cerebral hemorrhage,
his condition worsened.
Jack and his brothers
chartered a special train
to speed them back
to Los Angeles.
They brought with them
two specialists,
but they arrived
three hours too late.
At age 39,
Sam Warner died on the eve
of the Warner Brothers'
greatest triumph.
It just-- I've never been able
to quite understand
why destiny,
you know, took him.
He died three days
before the--
The Jazz Singer
opened in New York.
Sam Warner was
a man that was a friend--
friendly, who was respected
by the back lot.
He was a, uh, a pal of--
he wasn't the boss.
I think the history would
have been quite different
had he survived,
but that never happened.
Sam was
the family's diplomat,
although I think, ultimately,
in the balance of power,
he sided with Jack.
But when Sam died,
that balancing mechanism fell.
And now it really became,
you know, Harry against Jack.
After Sam died,
and they started
zooming up in the air,
and they became very,
you know,
they went from a third class
studio practically overnight.
So, none
of the Warners were in New York
for the opening
of their greatest triumph,
and they are not there
for that moment
when Al Jolson walks
onto the screen
and, for the first time, talks.
Mammy
Mammy
The sun shines east,
the sun shines west
But I know
where the sun shines best
Mammy
Mammy
My heartstrings are
tangled around
Alabammy
Mammy, I'm coming
I hope
I didn't make you wait
Mammy, I'm coming
Oh, God,
I hope I'm not late!
Mammy
Don't you know me?
It's your little baby
I'd walk a million miles
For one of your smiles
For my ma
Mammy
This was an overnight smash,
you know,
people talk about these things,
but in this case,
it's true.
The success
of The Jazz Singer
and the new Vitaphone process
propelled the Warner Brothers
into the forefront
of motion pictures.
Until now, studios
such as Paramount and MGM
had dominated the movies,
but with the coming of sound,
that all changed.
As the other studios
scrambled to adapt,
Warner Brothers expanded,
acquiring new theaters
and distribution networks.
And in the city
of Burbank,
just over the Cahuenga Pass
from Los Angeles,
a brand new
state-of-the-art studio.
Uh, when
you came in, in the morning,
I guess there were a couple of
thousand people working there.
It was-- actually it was--
it was a city within itself,
and they had their own
police force, you see,
so it was great.
Well, here we are.
This is the Warner studio.
Gee, I've never been
so thrilled in all my life.
- Will I meet Dick Powell?
- Sure. He's working in Dames.
It was,
uh, very different
from the other studios,
uh, it didn't have
the upper class sheen.
You know, there's this
feeling that Warner Brothers
was a--
a second rate studio.
It was a cut-rate studio,
but it wasn't second-rate.
The people who ran the studio,
the Warner Brothers,
because of their desire
to squeeze pennies
until they shouted,
somehow, uh,
left the impression
that the studio was inferior.
Which, indeed it wasn't.
They were considered
the toughest studio
in town to work for.
And the truth was,
in general,
that if you could
make it at Warners,
you could make it anywhere.
While Harry and Albert continued
to manage the company
from New York,
38-year-old Jack
supervised
the studio's
growing roster of stars,
directors, writers,
and producers.
Under the guidance of production
executive Darryl Zanuck,
the studio developed
a unique style of films
with the introduction
of contemporary urban dramas
such as Little Caesar,
starring a Broadway actor
named Edward G. Robinson.
And Public Enemy,
with a New Warner Brothers star
named James Cagney.
Stick 'em up.
Stick 'em up.
In 1933, production
executive Darryl Zanuck
left the studio after a bitter
fight with Harry and Jack
and was replaced
by Hal Wallis,
a cool, meticulous man
who had gotten his start
in the studio's
publicity department.
While Wallis oversaw
daily film production,
Jack kept a close watch
on all studio operations
where no detail was too
insignificant for his attention.
"To Hal Wallis,
October 5th, 1933.
"We must put braziers
on Joan Blondell
"and make her cover up
her breasts.
"Otherwise we are going
to have these pictures
"stopped in a lot of places.
"I believe
in showing their forms,
"but for Lord's sake,
don't let those bulbs stick out.
I'm referring to her gown
in Convention City."
"March 10th, 1936.
"I'm now looking
at the new tests of Errol Flynn
"with his mustache darkened,
and he looks very good.
"I think it would be a good idea
to leave the mustache on.
It gives him a little more punch
in this particular role."
"To producer Henry Blankey,
May 25th, 1938.
"The park sequence
in Four Daughters is very good,
"but it could have been
shot on our lot here.
"We spend a fortune
building a park in the studio,
"and then everybody wants
to go on location.
"The other fellows' grass
only seems the greenest."
He was aware
of just about everything
that went on
in the studio,
whatever was going on
on the stage.
This picture was doing well.
The director seemed
to be right on top of it.
And another picture
which was falling behind,
the director-- he'd put
his camera up in one place
and then decide
that he didn't like it there
and move it over there
and that was time consuming.
So, a nice pink slip
would go down to the director
saying, "One move is enough."
The mid-1930s
to early '40s
produced what is
considered to be
the Golden Age
of Warner Brothers films.
Did I upset your plans?
You've come to Nottingham
once too often.
When this is over,
my friend,
there'll be no need
for me to come again.
Are you ready, Ilsa?
Yes, I'm ready.
Goodbye, Rick.
God bless you.
Gotta hurry.
You'll miss that plane.
Ha-ha!
Jack's tight
control of production
earned the company
the reputation
for being
the San Quentin of studios.
Writers, actors, and directors
often felt like prisoners.
Hired, fired, or assigned
to movies as the warden decreed.
Protests were in vain,
for the studio system assured
that power remained
with the moguls.
In spite of such constraints,
the system created
many of the studio's best films
starring actors and actresses
who have since become legend.
Whisper of
how you're yearning
To mingle
with the old-time throng
Please give your regards
to old Broadway
And say that
you'll be there, e'er long
Jack, you know, he had to
contend with so much, you know.
He had to contend
with the Cagneys
and the Bette Davises,
who could be very...
obstreperous at times,
Bette Davis in particular.
Only the last word,
God damn it.
He wasn't hesitant about
putting somebody on suspension.
In fact,
I think Warner Brothers
had more people on suspension
over the years
than any studio did.
You know, I don't think
he was too thrilled with actors.
At least that was the--
the feeling I got
that, you know,
actors were really way down--
down the line,
as far as human beings.
I'll tell you what--
what he said about actresses.
I said, "Oh, aren't
actresses wonderful?"
"Yeah," he says,
"I guess so."
And he says, like,
"Don't ever be an actress.
"Actresses, I mean,
they would kill
"their grandmother for a part.
Even if they had to eat
through the wolf to get to her."
I thought, "What an analogy."
I couldn't believe it.
I thought it was so funny.
And I told Gordon, he says,
"Yeah, he doesn't like us."
He was talking about Bogart
one night to me,
and he said, uh,
"Oh," he said,
"Bogart's quite a guy,"
said, "He's good,"
said "His only problem
"he has is, uh,
when Bogey's drinking,
"and along about 11:30,
he really thinks he's Bogart."
If an actor
or producer came to him
and would argue over
some point about a movie,
if the argument was
going on too long,
he'd point
out the window and say,
"Whose name's
on the water tower?"
In time, people became
so familiar with this,
all he would have to do
is just point.
You're killing me!
I'm being murdered!
I can't stand
this torture anymore.
I'm dying.
You're killing me.
I'm telling you, J.L.,
you're typecasting me
to death.
Comedy. All this comedy.
Honest, J.L., you just gotta
give me a dramatic part.
There were, you know,
bad days and good days,
and the actors were
always bitching,
complaining they weren't
getting the right stories,
they weren't getting
enough money and this and that.
But we were
all a big family, you know,
a big quarreling
family sometimes,
but on the whole, really,
a very big family.
Uh, Bette, I want to thank you
for coming tonight.
And, uh, just a year ago
I had the extreme pleasure
congratulating you on
this very spot for being awarded
the Best Actress of 1935.
And tonight it is
with extreme pleasure,
Paul or Paul Muni,
to congratulate you.
I won't ad lib, I'm just
stuttering along a little.
I find it interesting
that many
of the Warner Brothers stars
mirrored Jack Warner physically
and in terms of personality.
People like,
uh, James Cagney,
Humphrey Bogart, Paul Muni.
They were all short,
combative, feisty,
uh, surly.
Um, suspicious
of entanglements.
I'm not fighting for anything
anymore except myself.
I'm the only cause
I'm interested in.
His son, Jack Warner Jr.,
told me that he felt
that in the bedrock
of his father's personality,
his father was thinking,
"Everyone is taking
advantage of me,
everyone is trying
to take advantage of me."
Success was his ruination.
As a young, struggling guy,
he was terrific.
As an older,
successful man,
he could be
a dreadful person.
He did enjoy
being the head of a studio.
It was his meat and drink.
In fact, he devoted
probably more time to it
than he should have
for his family's sake.
His business took him
away from the home so much,
and that was another problem.
He was away a lot, working,
coming home late at night,
plus which, he was in
a business which is unique.
No place,
that I can think of,
is a man who is
susceptible to beauty,
exposed to more beauty,
feminine,
and my father
liked the-- liked women.
Not woman. Women.
I guess
Irma's life with Jack
wasn't very happy
'cause I think he probably...
did a little chasing around,
but I was very surprised
when I heard the--
the rumors, you know, that--
that Jack Warner was seeing
the former wife
of Don Alvarado.
Ann Alvarado and Jack Warner
had met in 1932,
and though both were married,
they fell very much in love.
Jack was captivated
by Ann's sophisticated beauty
and intelligence
which many assumed
was a product
of a wealthy upbringing.
But like Jack,
Ann had come
from meager beginnings.
Born Ann Boyer in the small town
of Ferriday, Louisiana,
she was the only child
of Russian Jews.
When Ann was 12,
her mother died,
following the family's move
to Los Angeles.
At age 16, she married
silent film actor Don Alvarado,
and together they had a child
they named Joy.
Don Alvarado had appeared
in several
Warner Brothers silent films
but had seen his career fade
with the advent of sound.
For the next four years,
Ann and Jack would
pursue their affair.
During this time,
Ann's daughter, Joy,
was sent away
to boarding school.
But she remembered meeting
the new man in her mother's life
and related the story
years later to her son, Gregory.
Though most of
Hollywood knew about the affair,
my grandmother cautioned
my mother to...
keep the fact
of it a secret.
Matter of fact,
Jack Warner was
introduced to my mother
not as Mr. Warner,
but as Mr. Wakefield.
Ann was
very exciting, very much alive.
She was a great match
for Jack.
The other thing
that she had was,
she could look
and see if someone
was going to be a star.
I hear that she's the one
who found Errol Flynn.
Finally, in 1936,
Jack divorced
his wife, Irma,
and he and Ann were married.
In deference to his parents,
Jack had delayed the wedding
until after their deaths.
But the gesture made
little difference
to the other
family members.
The damage was done.
Harry couldn't
stand the fact
that Jack divorced
his first wife.
You know, he's stayed
with the woman he married
for over 50 years.
Even Jack's son, Jack Jr.,
had sided with his mother
in the divorce proceedings,
creating a rift between father
and son that would never heal.
I think
that the problems were
after he and my mother
were divorced
and I lived with her
and he remarried
and lived elsewhere,
and the-- the two lives
got kind of scrambled.
Uh, with me, anyhow.
My mother's home,
my father's home,
so, I was on a tightrope.
This might have been
one of the reasons
I joined the Marine Corps,
you know, I wanted
to get out of one hassle
and get into
a controllable hassle.
In letters to his son,
what emerges is
the frustration,
the impatience,
and the hurt
of Jack Warner,
the father,
who urges his son
to patch up the differences
and be better friends
with Ann, his new wife.
"Dear Jackie,
so, you're going
"around the world
to gain knowledge.
"I'm very happy
to learn that knowledge begins
"at the... roof.
"Remember when I said
keep your fingers crossed
"as well as parts
of your anatomy,
"and lookout
for those socialites
"whose social activity
is sometimes
"more than just active.
"I'm still waiting
for that letter
"to be sent to Ann
that you so ardently promised.
"I think I'm entitled
to many things,
"which apparently, Jackie,
"you avoid making
much effort to achieve.
Signed, your loving father."
"My dear son Jack,
"please don't keep me
on needles and pins,
"and write me
like a good son should.
"This is very, very cold,
and I cannot understand
"how you can be this way.
"I hate
to be bawling you out,
"but it seems,
in defense of my own feelings,
"I have to do something.
"Your alibi being too busy
does not hold water.
Signed, with love,
from your father."
"Dear Jack,
"received your letter,
but was surprised
"that you did not answer
more to the point
"on the one
that I wrote you from New York.
"I hope you will see my side,
so that we can have
"a happier life together.
"I do not want to always be
finding fault, Jackie,
"but unless there is some hope
in one of your letters,
"it is really hopeless for me
to continue writing,
"because my heart
would not be in it.
"However,
if you really don't want
"to give me an encouragement,
let's forget it.
Signed, your father."
Thirty years later,
Jack Warner would still remember
the sting
of those bitter days,
and exclude
from his autobiography
any mention of his first wife
or of his son.
The new Mrs. Warner
had no intention
of ever being excluded
from her husband's memoirs.
With ambition
to match her husband's,
Ann set about redesigning
the Warner home in Beverly Hills
that Jack had built
with his first wife.
It was
a heavy Spanish-type house,
and it certainly didn't suit
your grandmother's personality.
And-- and Jack too,
I think it was--
it was a heavy house
I've seen furnished.
Terrible taste,
terrible taste.
My grandmother
completely redesigned the house
over the next
couple of years.
Became quite beautiful
but also very expensive.
And it led to Jack Warner
saying at parties and so forth
when toasting my grandmother,
he'd raised his glass and say,
"To Ann, the woman
I owe everything for."
I think their happiest
moments, really--
uh, her happiest moments
were when she was
really creating 1801.
She had marvelous taste.
She should have been
an architect
or an interior designer.
I think Ann Warner was the...
ultimate domestic engineer
in that her job was
to be Mrs. Warner
and entertain his clients
and his friends,
and to build
a home for him
that would be impressive
and comfortable
and memorable.
And it is memorable.
50 years later,
60 years later,
Sotheby experts are
walking around going, "Wow,"
and we're probably the most
jaded people in the world.
And there, on the wall,
I believe
above the fireplace,
on the paneling,
was this beautiful Dali.
I thought
it was extraordinary.
And it was a picture
of Ann Page Warner
with hair
that looked somewhat
a little bit like Medusa,
like snakes.
And in the background,
this house is sort of
a little falling off
a ravine.
So the first thing Jack says,
"Oh, look at that.
"Yeah, that Spaniard,
he made her look
like an embalmed wop."
So, you got the feeling
that everything
that she treasured,
you know,
or at least, a lot of the things
that she treasured,
he sort of
would make fun of,
but I got the feeling
he did that about everything.
In truth, Jack was delighted
with the house
and with Ann,
for not only
had she provided him
with a beautiful new home,
she had given him
a second chance at fatherhood
with the arrival
of their daughter, Barbara.
Joining the new family,
was Ann's daughter, Joy,
seen here
with Jack and Barbara in 1938.
I think
she was a nervous mother.
Not nervous
that she didn't like them,
but she was fearful,
I think.
I really don't think
Ann was a very good mother,
I really, don't.
Uh, they sent,
uh, Barbara away
to Switzerland,
far away.
And, uh, little kids
don't like that.
Every man and his wife
is different from somebody else.
And-- and, uh,
well, he-- he and Ann had
different perspectives on life,
she-- she was
more metaphysical,
and read all
these wonderful things
about hereafter and--
not that
she was that religious,
but she was interested
in all sorts of,
what Jack used to call
fog off the lake.
I think he also
did not like the unknown.
The one thing that he had,
is he lived for the day.
Nazis imposed
a very difficult dilemma
for the Hollywood Jews,
because, on the one hand,
they only want to be
regarded as Americans.
On the other hand,
the whole idea of Nazism
and what Nazis were doing
to their co-religious
in Europe
pushed them and pushed them
and pushed them
into embracing
their Jewishness.
It blew my mind.
Warner Brothers closed down
its operations
in Germany in 1934.
And some of the studios were
still running operations
at the time
the Second World War began
when the Germans marched
into Poland in 1939.
Every time the Germans
occupied a country,
Warner Brothers would pull out.
And I-- I just am amazed
at the ethical...
and moral stance
that the brothers took.
It was Harry,
but Jack wasn't dragged
screaming
and kicking into it.
He was carried along.
Warner Brothers, uh, made
the first anti-Nazi, uh, film
and that was
Confessions of a Nazi Spy.
It was based
on an actual trial.
They have been
but little cogs
in the vast
and intricate machine.
A worldwide spy network
whose organized efficiency
leaps all oceans
and boundaries
to the inner sanctums
of present Germany's
highest official level.
You have done excellent work
in the United States
for the party, Doctor.
From now on,
National Socialism
in the United States
must place itself
in the American flag.
It must appear to be
a defense of Americanism.
They started
making movies about the Nazis,
and when they did,
they were not, uh,
movies that the Nazi liked.
So, what they did,
they sent them a letter
with the map
of their house
and tell them if they didn't
quit making these movies
about anti-Nazism,
that they were
going to be buried
in a certain spot
on the property.
And when they got that,
that's when they put
the guards out there.
And that's why
they would refuse
to have anybody take
a picture of the place.
They didn't want anybody to have
a map of the place after that.
They wanted their privacy,
and you could understand that.
World War II
found Jack Warner in uniform
as a colonel
in the Army Air Force.
Though still head of the studio,
he had been drafted
to make recruiting films
for the military.
Off we go
into the wild sky yonder
Keep the wings...
Winning Your Wings
was an early example,
and starred
a young Air Force Lieutenant
named Jimmy Stewart.
The film addressed the nation's
growing need for combat pilots,
and was shown in theaters
and on college campuses
throughout
the United States.
Well, hello.
Gee, it looks like I'm back
in the movies again, aren't I?
Well, as a matter of fact,
I'd like to do some talkin'.
It...
don't go away
until I get this thing off.
I went in to see Jack,
and he turned
the whole studio over...
uh, on a 24-hour basis
for anything
that I wanted or needed
or any department
or whatever it would be.
And in 11 days,
it was showing in the theaters.
Nothing had ever happened
that fast before.
And it's an absolute fact,
they traced, uh...
more than 150,000
enlistment registrations
to seeing that film.
Jack L. Warner,
motion picture executive,
arrives at March Field,
California,
where he receives
the Medal of Merit
from General H.H. Arnold,
former Air Corps chief.
The decoration,
highest conferred on a civilian,
is awarded to Mr. Warner
for recruiting and organization
of motion pictures
for the Armed Forces personnel.
A year later,
Jack Warner dissolved
his commission
in the Army Air Force.
He returned full time
to running the studio
but kept his military rank
as a new form of address.
Colonel was now added
to the list of nicknames
that included Boss, J.L.,
and the one
most often used, Chief.
Uh, we were together overseas
during the war for a while.
He came over there
with a commission or something
from the movie industry,
and we talked about--
we-- I had him
come into my hotel room.
I was in a-- uh,
where was that, Wiesbaden,
and I had this little room,
and he sat down.
He was tired out
from a hard day,
and he-- he said,
"Can I sleep a while?"
I said,
"Sure, you relax."
And I sat down, and I read,
and he slept,
and he woke up, and we talked,
and we talked about--
well-- and the--
when this war is over
and, uh, we get back,
things will be different.
And he-- he sounded like
he wanted it to be different,
but when we got back,
it wasn't different.
I know what happened.
He was great the farther away
from Hollywood he got,
but there was something
about being here.
Jack Jr. would
never become the heir
to his father's empire.
By war's end,
Jack Warner was a healthy 54
with no thoughts of giving up
the crown to a younger man.
But then his stepdaughter
married a young actor
just out of the army,
and the chance of someday,
passing on the mantle
was rekindled.
Bill Orr was just 17
when he'd come west
from New York
to try his luck in Hollywood.
He landed a movie contract
at Warner Brothers.
How was Hollywood?
Oh, Hollywood is swell.
Uh, they just weren't
ready for me yet.
I don't know if Jack Warner knew
I was at Warner Brothers or not.
I know he did say, "Hello, son,"
once walking down the street,
so I thought that was
very personal of him.
Invited
to the Warner home one night,
for a movie screening,
he met Jack's stepdaughter, Joy,
who already was
an accomplished actress
after her screen debut
in the 1942 Warner Brothers film
Casablanca.
Where's your husband?
At the roulette table,
trying to win enough
for our exit visas.
Of course, he's losing.
How long have you been married?
Eight weeks.
We come from Bulgaria.
We were talking about
getting married after the war,
and then Jack went
to some party,
and Louella Parsons
said to him,
"I understand
Bill Orr is, uh--
"uh, are you-- is he going
to marry, uh, your daughter?"
And Jack said,
"Oh, yeah, I think so.
It's not nice for them
to go around too long."
So, I called Joy
from the post and said,
"Jack has just announced
that we're getting married,
"and, uh, just say yes,
and we'll figure it out later."
One year later,
Bill Orr abandoned
his acting ambition
and accepted
his father-in-law's offer
to join the studio
as an assistant
production executive.
He and Jack would
become close friends
over the next two decades,
leading many to speculate
that Jack Warner had chosen
a new heir at last.
Mr. Warner,
do you solemnly swear
that the testimony you're about
to give is the truth,
the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth,
so help you God?
By the summer of 1947,
Jack Warner was occupied
by more pressing worries
than the state
of the box office,
which had fallen off sharply
since the end of World War II.
In Washington D.C.,
The House
Un-American Activities Committee
had stepped up its campaign
to weed out
suspected communists
in the motion picture industry.
The heads of the major studios
were being asked
to supply the names of writers,
actors, directors,
anyone, in fact,
who might have sympathized
with the communist cause
or whose views
might be deemed
too liberal.
Though never doubted
for their patriotism,
Jack and his brothers
were criticized
for unknowingly helping
the communist cause
with the film they made
during World War II,
called Mission to Moscow.
Produced at the personal request
of President Roosevelt,
the film was an oversimplified
piece of propaganda
designed to portray
the decency and goodwill
of America's wartime ally,
the Soviet Union,
and its leader, Joseph Stalin.
Besides your work
here in Moscow,
I understand you have visited
many other sections
of the Soviet Union.
I've been greatly impressed
by what I've seen.
Your industrial plants,
the development
of your natural resources,
and the work being done
to improve living conditions
everywhere in Russia.
I believe, sir,
that history will record you
as a great builder
for the benefit of mankind.
It is not my achievement,
Mr. Davies.
They made
the Mission to Moscow
and
Action in the North Atlantic,
and you had people
in Washington
who felt those were
pro-communist,
and what they were,
were pro-Allies.
They had forgotten the Russians
were on our side then.
Fear runs
through Hollywood
from the moment
that the first Hollywood moguls
entered the industry
till the moment they left it.
Obviously, the HUAC period is
a period of enormous fear,
because the rules have
been changed for them.
These documents...
Because the one thing
by which they had
guided their lives,
namely, this path
of patriotism and Americanism,
was now being challenged.
They were being regarded
as the supervisors
of a system of subversion.
Jack built this platform
outside the--
the main entrance to the studio.
Everybody had to walk up
and pledge that they were--
swear that-- and say
they were not a communist,
and pledge
to the United States.
And I said, of course,
"I can't-- I can't believe
that you have to say that."
He says, "I wanna say it.
"Me and Jack were wearing
our army uniforms,
and I certainly am saying
I'm not a communist."
I said,
"Yeah, but do you have to say it
if you're not a com--"
He says,
"Oh, stop being so British."
And then Jack said,
"Yeah, that's the trouble
with the Brits.
"You let them curse
the king and the queen,
"and everything else
right in Hyde Park,
"and right outside
of Buckingham Palace,
they got those
commie devils out there."
And I said, "But they're not
doing anything wrong, Jack,
people can talk about things."
He says,
"Not on my lot."
Our American way of life
is under attack
from without and from within
our national borders.
I believe it is the duty
of each loyal American
to resist those attacks
and defeat them.
My brothers and I will be happy
to subscribe generously
to a pest removal fund.
We are willing to establish
such a fund to ship to Russia
the people who don't like
our American system
of government
and prefer
the communistic system to ours.
Eventually,
Jack Warner joined those
in capitulating
to the demands
of the House committee.
Names were given,
black lists compiled,
careers ended.
"Uneasy lies the head
that wears the toilet seat,"
Jack Warner would often say
in the face of adversity.
With the departure
of producer Hal Wallis in 1944,
Jack had taken
an even greater role
in overseeing the studio's
production of movies.
The split
with Wallis had come
after the 1943 Academy Awards,
where Jack had rushed
the stage to accept
the Best Picture Award
for Casablanca,
a movie Wallis had
independently produced
while at the studio.
Come over to 103, will ya?
Warner Brothers
continued to make
memorable movies throughout
the late 1940s to mid-50s.
Though the number
of films released each year
had been cut by half
since the beginning of the war.
Hello, everybody.
This is Mrs. Norman Maine.
Aw, leave him alone.
Can't you see
the old man's nuts?
Nuts? Nuts, am I?
Let me tell you something...
In 1948,
director John Huston
broke with tradition
by shooting his production
of Treasure of the Sierra Madre
on location in Mexico,
far from
the studio back lot
and the watchful eyes
of Jack Warner.
...You don't even see the riches
you're treading on
with your own feet.
Other breaks
with tradition came
with the signing
of a moody young actor
named James Dean,
seen here shooting
his second film
for Warner Brothers,
Rebel Without a Cause.
Dr. Minton!
Dr. Minton!
Hey.
All right, you asked for it,
you got it.
- What is it?
- Trouble.
Are you satisfied
or do you want some more?
The post war years
had brought a profound change
to the men
who ran the studios.
The once iron grip
of the moguls
was being pried loose by forces
beyond their control.
Actors were suing,
and suing successfully,
to break long-term contracts
that had kept them
virtual prisoners
of the studio system.
Television, that new
and little understood medium,
was also a threat,
as audiences stayed home,
preferring
the black and white images
that flickered
from the tube
over the 3D
and widescreen color epics
Hollywood was making
to lure them back
into the theaters.
Ah, there's someone
with a bag of popcorn.
Close your mouth.
It's the bag I'm aiming at.
Not your tonsils.
Here she comes.
Even
the United States government
had seemingly conspired
to hurt the moguls.
In what became known
as the Consent Decrees,
the studios were forced
to sell off their movie theaters
in order to avoid
antitrust lawsuits.
To an outsider, it might appear
as business as usual,
but for anyone paying attention,
the verdict was in.
Heading up a major
motion picture studio
was not as much fun
as it used to be.
Every morning,
Bill Schaefer would call me,
called the boss,
and then he would warn me,
"He's a little scratchy
this morning."
He was scratchy
almost every morning.
"To Steve Trilling,
December 26th, 1947.
"I can't impress upon you
emphatically enough
"the importance
of cutting the budgets.
"Everything must come down,
and anyone
"who doesn't want to cooperate
will just have to.
"We are fighting
a hell of a battle,
"and you must tell
every director and writer
in no uncertain terms."
I think, as the studio
began contracting
uh, and there were fewer
actors and actresses
under contract,
and fewer directors
under contract.
More people going independent,
and the rise of agencies
in that period,
all of these things happening
simultaneously.
The whole industry
became discombobulated.
And then there's
another factor
that has nothing to do
with the industry itself,
but that has
everything to do, I think,
with the power of the moguls,
and that is age.
I mean, these men had
commanded this industry
for a remarkably long
period of time,
virtually from its inception,
now to the early '50s.
And into the early '50s
they are much, much older,
and the resilience that they had
when they were young,
and they could
challenge everybody
and take on all comers
was gone.
They didn't have
that kind of-- of ability.
And so the Harry Warners,
the Louis B. Mayers,
the Harry Cohns, eventually,
all fall by the wayside,
because
they can't adapt anymore.
They've lost that--
that jungle ability to adapt.
La mer
Qu'on voit danser
Old age was of no concern
to Jack Warner,
who in 1955, was a youthful 63.
While his brothers
Harry and Albert,
as well as some
of the other studio bosses,
might have been
slowing down,
Jack continued with the energy
of a man half his age.
The demands
of the movie business
were not enough
to dampen his spirits
or prevent a yearly vacation
at his villa
in the south of France.
Here,
under the Mediterranean sun,
Jack held court,
entertaining friends and family
such as his stepdaughter Joy
and her husband Bill Orr,
now a senior
Warner Brothers executive.
Listen,
I had a great time with him.
He was always up.
Ninety-nine percent
of the time,
he seemed to be enjoying life.
I never saw him down.
I never heard him worry
about something in the past.
He says, "Who let the--
Clark Gable go? Me.
"So I'm still here,
and I don't worry
about those things,"
and that was his attitude.
Done, done.
Uh, at times I had
a feeling he dreaded going home.
We-- we all know
that his relationship
was not the best
with Mrs. Warner at the time.
Many times
he took me home with him
because he wanted to run film.
After dinner, we never--
I never saw Mrs. Warner.
He and I had dinner alone
and we were invited
to dinner parties,
my wife and I.
One-- to your father's
birthday once.
And, uh, I knew
Mrs. Warner was in her room
because the lights were on.
But Mr. Warner would say
that, "Oh,
she's in Palm Springs
and right now at-- at--"
you know...
made excuses for her.
"That's why your
grandmother," she told me...
On one of our--
the last trips,
well, I think, I guess
it could have been the last trip
that I made
when she was along.
Uh, that she said, you know,
"I'm-- I'm tired
of the Hollywood scene.
"It's so funny and, uh,
I-- I just don't care
to be part of it."
And from about that time,
shortly after, she stopped--
they stopped entertaining,
which is too bad in a way,
because it caused
your grandfather
to do things he normally
wouldn't have done.
Yeah, you know,
taking out other women.
It had never been
a complete secret,
even from Ann,
that Jack enjoyed
the company of women
other than his wife.
But now he was taking
his mistress
to premieres and parties,
and on more than one occasion,
attempting to pass her off
as a titled Lady
of the British Aristocracy.
We went to the command
performance of My Fair Lady
and I-- and the whole place
stood up,
you know, when we walked in
and I thought, "Oh,
this is it,
this is Cinderella."
This is the--
this is the fantasy.
So then we went to, uh,
the party in London,
Lord Louis Mountbatten's house,
and he introduced me,
and he said,
"This is Lady Scarborough,
she has a heart of gold
and a snatch to match."
And I just wanted
to go under the table,
and everybody...
everybody laughed.
But this is the way
he would introduce me.
The world knows that ours is
the best-advertised nation
on Earth.
Harry Warner
was the one person
Jack wanted out of his life
more than anyone else.
The oldest Warner brother
had moved
to Los Angeles from New York
and had tried
to become more involved
in the day-to-day operations
of the studio.
With Harry and Jack
now living in the same city,
the tension
between them mounted.
We used to have
a private dining room there,
and Harry used to come in
from time to time
and do a critique
on one of our pictures
that he didn't think
was so good.
And, uh, Jack used to say,
"Harry, I don't know
what good you're doing.
"Here's the producer,
and here's the director.
"And the writers are here.
What good are you doing?
"The picture isn't good.
We know it's not good.
You don't have to make
a speech about it."
A little more angry than that.
As long as Harry had
stayed in New York
and Jack stayed in Los Angeles,
they got on great.
But Harry immersed himself
in the creative area
instead of the business.
My father resented it,
and there was, uh, friction,
and it hurt the company,
and eventually I think
it led to the breakup,
uh, because
the brothers had bad blood
and Abe was
a distant referee.
I always think of him
wearing a striped shirt.
In 1956,
Jack saw his chance
to be rid of Harry
once and for all
when the three brothers agreed
to sell their stock
in the studio
to a syndicate of bankers.
Unbeknownst to Harry and Albert,
Jack had made prior arrangements
to buy back his shares
and keep his job.
Immediately after the sale,
Harry was devastated
when he learned
of his brother's duplicity,
but there was nothing
he could do.
Jack Warner had become
sole head of Warner Brothers.
As soon as he found out
Jack was president
of the company,
he, um, had a stroke.
That day he had a stroke.
And he never really
fully recovered.
Um, from that he walked
with a cane after that,
and then he just deteriorated
from that point on.
In 1958,
two years
after what he considered
to be his brother's
ultimate betrayal,
Harry Warner fell victim
to a more serious stroke
and died.
Jack was on his way
to the South of France
for his annual vacation
when he heard the news.
He chose not to return
for his brother's funeral.
A week after Harry's death,
Jack was returning to his villa
in the south of France
with $40,000 worth
of winnings
from the casino tables
in nearby Cannes...
when he smashed
his Alfa Romeo sports car
into an oncoming truck...
...and made headlines
that prematurely pronounced
Jack Warner dead.
Yeah,
he was badly hurt.
He was-- he was
really broken up
and he had
all sorts of things.
He had, uh,
a cracked skull, ribs.
And he had--
whatever he-- he could have
without dying he had,
he was in very bad shape.
The French doctors
packed his battered body in ice,
hoping it would stabilize
his injuries.
The treatment worked,
but it would be many months
before he recovered.
Upon his return to the studio,
one of his first acts would be
to fire his son, Jack Jr.,
who had been in charge
of a division
that made commercials
and educational films.
In Jack Warner's eyes,
his son had betrayed him
by speaking to the press
soon after the accident.
His statements were interpreted
as confirmation
that his father was dying,
a suggestion Jack Warner
could never forgive.
Uh, I was out of there
the day before he came back.
Arnold Grant told me
he wouldn't return
if I was still there.
I mean, it was that, uh...
that violent of a response.
Why? I don't know.
What did I do to him?
With the dismissal
of Jack Warner's son,
many in Hollywood
assumed that
Warner Brothers executive
Bill Orr would become
successor to Jack's studio.
From the entertainment capital
of the world comes
Warner Brothers Presents,
the hour that presents
Hollywood to you.
Made expressly for television
by one of the great
motion picture studios.
Since 1956,
Bill Orr had been supervising
the studio's output
of successful
television series,
which included Maverick
starring James Garner,
and 77 Sunset Strip,
featuring a young actor named
Efrem Zimbalist Jr.
Your father's product,
uh, nine-- nine series,
I think,
we had-- we had going,
was the whole ABC output.
It was the whole
prime time product of ABC,
and, uh, it-- it was--
it was supporting the studio
and they-- they could make money
with features
or lose money with features
but that was-- that was
footing the bill.
My father tells
a story that,
when he was put
in charge of television
and making these TV shows,
Jack Warner never once saw
any of the television shows
before they went out to be
delivered to the TV stations.
He didn't even
want to know about 'em.
They made him money,
that was fine,
but he really hated
the medium.
By 1964,
Jack Warner
had promoted Bill Orr
to executive
in charge of all production.
The message seemed clear.
Jack Warner was stepping aside
in favor of his son-in-law.
But that was before
a Warner Brothers vice president
named Ben Kalmenson
proved instrumental
in changing the course
of Jack Warner's life
and that of Bill Orr's.
I think
he had a long range plan,
which was
to get Jack to step back,
put me in charge of it,
which he thought
maybe he'd want.
And then get Jack to quit.
And then fire me.
I do know that Benny did want
to be president of the company.
I just think
he was getting a lot of...
flak from-- from Benny.
I don't know
if you call it flak, or...
or pressure,
a lot of pressure.
Then the thing of selling
the studio came along.
And, uh...
um, just prior to selling it,
uh, I was, uh, terminated,
I guess, is the word.
In 1965,
heeding the advice
of Ben Kalmenson,
Jack Warner
instructed his attorney
to contact his son-in-law
and fire him.
Most of the time,
fortunately,
I don't really care what
people think of Jack Warner.
I learned early in life
that many people
do not have friendly feelings
about successful men.
There was a time when I was
thin-skinned about many things.
But I was finally cured
of too much sensitivity
by an unlikely
combination of friends.
Charlie Chaplin and Al Jolson
had been his friends,
as had Sid Grauman
of movie theater fame.
But these relationships had,
for various reasons,
fallen by the wayside.
Death, too, played its part
in separating Jack from those
he knew and loved when young.
There was Doc Salomon,
a Warner Brothers employee
since the beginning,
killed in London during
the Blitz of World War II.
Motley Flint,
the banker who believed
in Jack and his brothers
before many others did.
Also killed
when a vengeful client
marched into a courtroom
and shot the banker
point blank in the face.
Brother David Warner,
who died
in in a Boston sanatorium
after a lengthy illness.
And who never got the chance
to join his illustrious brothers
in the movie business.
Younger brother Milton,
a star baseball player
in high school
who died young on the eve
of signing
with the New York Giants.
And of course, Sam Warner,
who had been
Jack's closest friend
while growing up.
Perhaps the only man
who came close
to the affection Jack felt
for his late brother
was not a friend
or family member
but an employee.
The man who knew me best
and might have offered
to talk about me
in his fumbling
but honest way
is no longer here.
His name was Abdul Maljan,
and around the lot
he was known as Abdul The Turk.
I paid him about $200 a week,
and in exchange,
though he would
have worked for nothing,
he gave me a kind of faith that
does not seem to exist
very often these days.
He literally pulled me
out of bed every morning
and forced me
into a cold shower.
He got me
into the steam room,
even though I complained
that I didn't have the time
and that I was
perhaps risking large sums
every minute
I stayed away from the office.
"Any bum make millions,"
he would murmur,
"but only smart man learn
how to live."
It may seem ironic and strange
to some people in Hollywood
that the boss of a studio had
to rely on a Turkish masseur
for one of the intimate
friendships of his life.
Though he knew
the days of the studio mogul
were dying,
Jack managed
in those last years
to see a handful of memorable
and innovative movies get made.
In 1964,
60 years after
he and his brothers
had pawned their father's horse
so as to buy
a used movie projector,
Jack Warner produced
his greatest triumph.
My Fair Lady,
starring Rex Harrison
and Audrey Hepburn,
would go on
to earn eight Academy Awards,
including Best Picture.
But I'm so used
to hear her say
"Good morning" ev'ry day
Her joys, her woes
Her highs, her lows
Are second nature to me now
Like breathing out
and breathing in
I'm very grateful
she's a woman
And so easy to forget
Rather like a habit
one can always break
And yet
I've grown accustomed
to the trace
Of something in the air
Accustomed to her face
I washed my face and hands
before I come, I did.
Where the devil
are my slippers?
Jack had
gambled once more and,
unlike that fateful night
six years earlier
in the south of France,
had returned home
with his winnings in hand.
Not only am I happy,
everybody is happy
to have participated
in the making of this film
because it's
an outstanding production.
Have you ever seen the film,
by the way?
Can I quote you?
What is your name?
My name is...
All right, brother,
you-- you-- thank you.
I shouldn't kid with you.
Thank you for everything.
You have a good backhand
but no taste in movies.
How about you,
Mr. Harrison, what...
It was the end
of-- of the giants.
The whole system had changed
and the giants couldn't
control it anymore.
In an industry where things
were all kind of fooling apart,
uh, stars going off
and signing with agents
and-- and making
their own deals,
directors becoming freelance.
I mean, it was a period
of free agency.
And in a period of free agency,
it's not the owner
who controls the situation.
You know, the players
who control the situation...
and in that kind
of environment...
it was almost impossible
for Jack Warner to survive.
In 1967,
in a scheme reminiscent
of Jack's betrayal
11 years earlier
of his own brother, Harry,
Warner Brothers
Vice President Ben Kalmenson
convinced his boss to sell
his shares in the studio.
A decision
he would later regret.
Though allowed
by the new owners
to keep his title
as chief of production,
Jack Warner soon realized
he was a chief in name only.
In 1969,
he quit the studio
and drove out
the Warner Brothers gates
for the last time.
He returned to his home
in Beverly Hills.
And except for two films
made independently,
neither of which impressed
audiences or critics,
he stayed away
from making movies.
Sit down, John
sit down, John
For God's sake, listen to me.
Sit down,
sit down, John
Sit down, John
for God's sake
Hollywood is
a very forgetful place.
Hollywood is a-- is a community
with very little perspective.
Once you were separated
from the studio,
which was the source
of all of your power,
the source
of all of your status,
you had nothing.
Jack Warner,
separated from Warner Brothers,
was nothing.
He was no longer Jack Warner.
To be Jack Warner,
you had to be attached
to the Warner Brothers Studio.
This was a kind of
Siamese twin relationship,
but when you hack
the twins away,
one of them's going to die.
And in this case,
it was Jack Warner.
Oh, yes,
you can go and play tennis.
You know, you can--
you have, you know,
a small coterie of friends,
but you don't have
the very things
that sustained you for
your entire professional life.
Those things are gone.
In 1978,
Jack Warner died
from the effects of a stroke
suffered several years earlier
while playing tennis at home.
No one called.
I read it in the paper.
I had been trying to see him
for months
and months and months.
I came up
to the house over in Angelo
and all I talked to was
the, uh, guard
and the, uh, speaker box.
That's a part of--
uh, of the history
that is unbelievable.
Uh...
um, you know, the--
he was, uh...
I-- I don't know
how to put this word.
It's-- I-- in fact,
I'm not gonna put it,
it was just unfortunate
that was a part
of-- uh, of the history
that was badly written
and poorly played out.
Jack's casket
lay in the sanctuary
at Wilshire Boulevard Temple
in Los Angeles
under the murals depicting
the history of the Jews.
Murals that had been a gift
of the Warner Brothers
many years before.
His widow, Ann,
had insisted on a small funeral
attended only by family members
and a few close friends.
The setting was too grand
for such an intimate gathering,
so the casket was moved upstairs
to a smaller chapel.
And it was there
that the family said goodbye.
Twelve years later,
Jack's wife Ann passed away
and was buried
with her husband.
In making this film,
I've come to see my grandfather
as more than
just a showbiz character.
a vaudevillian.
He was, in fact,
an entertainment machine,
like the studio system
he helped create.
And in that system
there was the good and the bad,
just as there was at home.
I remain grateful
for the good.
Within three months,
their home in Beverly Hills
was purchased
for a record sum
and the entire contents
sold at auction.
I think these moguls left
a remarkable legacy,
especially when you consider
that these were
impoverished immigrants,
totally uneducated.
They left something
that may be
the most powerful legacy
in the 20th century
in America.
Not only did they leave
a brilliant set
of motion pictures,
which I think
people will continue to watch
for hundreds of years.
But they also created values
which continue
to govern our lives even now.
They left a mythology...
about who we are
as Americans,
where we came from
and where we're going
that is as powerful
in shaping our lives
as any single mythology
in this country.
So I think that when--
when you look at the legacy,
you're really looking
at the definition
of who we are as Americans.
Of all
the gin joints in all the towns
in all the world...
she walks into mine.
You know how
to whistle, don't you, Steve?
You just put
your lips together and blow.
Jerry,
don't let's ask for the moon.
We have the stars.
What I admire most
about my grandfather
was his ability to adapt.
Despite the limitations
of a sixth grade education,
he managed to succeed
in the film industry.
Over there, over there
Send the word,
send the word, over there
Many people were
forced out along the way.
He hung in there
to run a movie studio
for over 50 years.
So prepare, say a prayer
Send the word,
send the word to beware
We'll be over,
we're coming over
And we won't be back
till it's over...
What's the matter, old timer?
Don't you remember this song?
Seems to me I do.
Well, I don't hear anything.
Send the word,
send the word, over there
That the Yanks are coming...
So, when people look
at the history of the studio,
I'd like them to see the man
behind the movies.
I heard a robin this mornin'
I'm feeling happy today
Gonna pack my cares
in a whistle
Gonna blow them all away
What if I've been unlucky?
Really, I ain't got a thing
There's a time
I always feel happy
As happy as a king
When the red, red robin
Comes bob, bob bobbin'
along, along
There'll be no more sobbing
when he starts throbbing
His own sweet song
Wake up, wake up,
you sleepy head
Get up, get up,
get out of bed
Cheer up, cheer up,
the sun is red
Live, love, laugh
and be happy
What if I've been blue
Now I'm walking
through fields of flowers
Rain may glisten
But still I listen
for hours and hours
I'm just a kid again,
doing what I did again
Singing a song
When the red, red robin
Comes bob,
bob bobbin' along
When the red, red robin
Comes bob,
bob bobbin' along, along
There'll be no more sobbing
when he starts throbbing
His own sweet song
Wake up, wake up,
you sleepy head
Get up, get up,
get out of bed
Cheer up,
cheer up the sun is red
Live, love, laugh
and be happy
What if I've been blue
Now I'm walking
through fields of flowers
Rain may glisten
But still I listen
for hours and hours
I'm just a kid again,
doing what I did again
Singing a song
When the red, red robin
Comes bob, bob bobbin' along