Trade Talk #1

 

What Trades Told: Friendly Leo, Hutton Hustles, Get to Work, Showman!, and Hot Rod Lobbies

Trade magazines are the great repository of film as merchandise, hang the aesthetics for what matter those except for positive word-of-mouth among customers going out? It was ones passing by or noting ads in papers that needed prod, trades’ sole mission to increase traffic through boxoffice turnstiles. I skipped a day of high school to clean out a venue in Taylorsville, hundreds of mags the owner threw in with posters he valued more, the reverse true for me thanks to joy trades brought. Sit down sometime with a pile and see how immersed you get, quickest route to that HERE. What Greenbriar shares today and hopefully forward is meditation by folks in the field re how-sold and how-to-sell, this whole of what mattered to trade readership. I gave up ever wanting to be an exhibitor for realizing what enormous work the job entailed.

LEO LOOMS LARGE FOR 1950 --- MGM sought to be “the friendly company” to its exhibiting customers. For most part, they kept that reputation. As Metro owned less theatres than rivals, it behooved them to keep small and independent accounts happy, venues that signed yearly with the Lion and used virtually all the company’s output. To block-book heavily among houses urban and rural was as good as owning same, field men hyper-attentive to relationships with showmen. Our Liberty kept close ties with MGM, owner Ivan Anderson back/forth to the Charlotte exchange and their staff supplying him with best accessories to promote highest profile releases. 20X60 door panels in deluxe sets of six came to us for The Bandwagon, Mogambo, Knight of the Round Table, many others, all falling eventually to me when the theatre changed hands. Mr. Anderson and acting manager Col. Forehand rang out 1950 with King Solomon’s Mines, the Liberty an early getter of this most desired attraction. MGM had forty releases for ’50 compared with thirty-five the year before. “Reprints” were part of statistics, Johnny Eager and The Wizard of Oz in 1949, Blossoms in the Dust for 1950. The Liberty played them all, plus whatever short subjects Leo offered. Col. Forehand once told me that he never watched a feature but did peek in for Pete Smith Specialties. Exhibitor Magazine conducted a poll to determine (1) Which company was most profitable to theatres, and (2) Which had fairest terms. MGM won on both counts, and I’ve no reason to believe the contest was rigged (Metro had in fact come in second the year before). “Fairest” often meant giving your man a break when he had a dud and wanted to be shed of it, MGM's rep agreeing to shorten the date, or cancel a booking altogether where management had reason to believe the show would not sell. Any problem could be talked over and solved to satisfaction of distributor and exhibitor, easier arrangement where the salesman had ongoing contact with his buyer and in most instances, regarded himself a friend. Many a holiday gift was exchanged between them, meals always an option when a Metro man stopped in to do business. It helped too that product was good. Check MGM’s 1950 yield and note an overall high standard.

SING FOR YOUR SUPPER, BETTY --- Stars all knew they were performing seals, some tossed larger fish than others, but withal balancing balls upon noses where/when told. Here is instance, Betty Hutton obliged to sing, dance, do whatever, to amuse Paramount brass in town to be recognized for string pullers of talent they were, not unlike visiting exhibitors or armed service folk to whom gates were routinely opened and carpets laid. Who’s for betting Betty was given no time to prepare, was told minutes before to show up and be funny. Lyle Bettger and Jan Sterling were similarly pressed, though less pressure was upon them than what was expected 24/7 of Hurricane Hutton. Expectation is a cruel master. Most figured Betty for a monkey on a Paramount string. Part of her job, an essential part, was to be there for banquets, welcome parties for Mr. Balaban or Mr. Zukor, them and others like kings calling for jesters that were Para stars in name only as check-signers saw it. Seeing an image like this helps me realize what working for this industry really amounted to. We can understand how Betty Hutton and others burnt out and called it eventual quits. Suppose there ever was a big do at MGM where Judy Garland wasn’t asked (told) to sing? Talent got lots of money and public adulation, but often traded pride plus privacy to have them, mental health too in long runs, Hutton and Garland obvious examples. To be Lyle Bettger and cast a lesser glow was at least balm for him at occasions like this. Some handshakes and conversation re what’s it like to be such a bad man on screens would be all required, then home and hearth for Lyle, or libation to wash away stink of studio servitude.

ROLL UP YOUR SLEEVES, MR. SHOWMAN --- Under heading of idle hours being wasted hours, National Screen credo for 1950 back covers of BOXOFFICE was Let’s All Get Down To Work! NSS had vested interest here, for to Get a Horn and Make a Bigger, Louder Noise meant ordering more --- and still more --- of trailers, posters, whatever accessory NSS offered, cost of which drove up overhead to narrow profit margins, especially at smaller venues, where another few dollars spent promoting could wipe off modest gain a film might otherwise generate. Herewith excerpt from an ad pregnant with meaning: “Let’s Quit Knockin’ the Bad in Pictures and Start Selling the Good.” Trouble was less “good” you had to sell than shows that were fine failing to meet expense for any number of local reasons, like high-school football, a county fair, church bazaar ... pick your distraction. Movies were nowhere an only game in town. A small enough berg could have a horseshoe match around the block and queer attendance for your first evening show. And what’s this about the “Bad” in pictures? Who of management would recognize remotest chance of “Bad” in any picture, Great and Glorious Entertainment being all we dispense in our Great and Wonderful Business. I’ve heard however of theatre men who’d stay off public streets a solid week after foul enough selections, the buck stopped always with whoever collected admissions and escorted us through the door. I didn’t blame Colonel Forehand personally for Face of the Screaming Werewolf, as he would have answered that I should have had better sense than to show up for something so obviously lame.

GONE TO GEARHEAD HEAVEN --- Mickey Rooney foolishly parted from MGM and admitted as much later. Tricky agents preyed upon him from there on. One promised moon and stars and stuck Mickey with obligation to do two for producer Harry Popkin plus other odd investors, including Jack Dempsey, everyone to scoop gravy but Mick. The Big Wheel was first of these, Rooney hog-tied for flat fee that was $25K, surely no fair trade for contract money he’d got from Leo. Enough Andy Hardy was intact for the rusted star to be still car-crazy and not ready to behave adult, which may/may not have been how a public preferred him, or had they enough of Mick in any capacity? The Big Wheel is him racing midget cars, ideal casting for the mighty mite, and there was capable free lance support (Thomas Mitchell, Spring Byington, others as veteran). Car culturists could be depended upon to rally, as here with hot rod boys bringing speed machines to display at local theatre entrances. Look close at these flowers of youth previewing fifties attitude to come. “Greasers” came by the name in part for being always under hoods or having oil drip on clothes and faces while flat beneath what once were “jalopies,” now serious racing units forever after purses won at weekend meets hosted far and wide. Danger was the drug in addition to prospect of wins. Teen-driven vehicles piled up as much on community tracks as on highways, life for many a never-ending chickee run. The Big Wheel engages for background of real small time racing, Mickey matched with genuine articles driving hazard routes. A show like this lent itself to local promotion, as car loving, and hot driving, was if anything hottest after the war with boys (girls too?) eager to spread wings behind wheels. The Big Wheel took $1.1 million in domestic rentals, better than most United Artists releases that year. I’m guessing Harry Popkin kept the negative in a garden shed until Wade Williams came calling. Amazon Prime is a source for watching, and there are plentiful DVD’s.