1 | A Hollywood Independent |
Stanley Kramer began his career as a Hollywood independent in his mid-thirties at a volatile time in the US motion picture industry. By 1947, the year Kramer formed Screen Plays, Inc., the company that would produce his first film, Hollywood was reeling from a series of postâWorld War II shocks. Labor unions in the movie industry participated in the great postwar strike wave, and a series of violent strikes and conflicts occurred over 1945 and 1946. Box-office receipts began to decline from a wartime peak as Americans moved to the suburbs, bought televisions, and stayed home. The US governmentâs antitrust case against the big Hollywood studios and their control of movie production, distribution, and exhibition was wending its way to the Supreme Court; the case would result in the 1948 Paramount decision divesting the studios of their theater chains. And in October 1947, the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) would hold its first postâWorld War II hearings to investigate communist âsubversionâ in the motion picture industry. These hearings would feature the Hollywood Ten and lead to the establishment of the Hollywood blacklist. That the old Hollywood studio system was under increasing pressure created opportunities for Kramer and a new postwar generation of independent producers. But it also meant that Kramer and his fellow independents needed to make their way within a highly unstable and unpredictable industrial and political context.
For the decade starting in the late 1940s, Kramer met these conflicts and challenges through a series of negotiations and compromises in an effort to maintain both his producing career and his political commitments. As an independent producer, he still needed institutional support for financing, studio facilities, and distribution. Given this fact, he often qualified his status as âlaughingly called an independent.â âIndependence was, in this equation, never more than comparative and highly circumscribed,â argues scholar Denise Mann.1 But Kramerâs ability to successfully manage his early career in these new and difficult conditions earned him a reputation as a âboy wonderâ and a âgenius.â2 As to politics in the blacklist era, Kramerâs liberalism meant he sought a middle path between the Hollywood Left and Right. In the process, he earned compliments and criticisms from liberals and leftists. But of most consequence he became a target of conservative anticommunists. Missed or understated in earlier assessments of Kramerâs career, relentless attacks from the Right shaped the commercial and political environments in which he operated. The producer-director was never able to act without a hostile reaction from conservative forces in the movie capital, who accused him of âcoddling Reds and pinkos.â3 Instead, Kramer constantly needed to defend his commitments to civil liberties, social welfare, and liberal internationalism throughout these years and later.
Kramerâs liberal politics and independent position in the industry contributed to his selection of subjects for his early movies. He gravitated toward social problems, although not exclusively, and made the genre his own. He produced his first significant and successful social problem filmsâChampion (1949), Home of the Brave (1949), and The Men (1950)âand parlayed this achievement into an unprecedented $25 million deal with Columbia Pictures in 1951. Social problem films ideally reflected his social conscience and fulfilled his commercial strategy. The reality of the resulting movies, however, did not always achieve this ideal. Kramer soon determined that to preserve his vision of his productions, he needed more control over his pictures. By 1955 he had decided to start directing. Unique among the Hollywood independents, he moved from production into direction, ârather than the other way around,â as Mann points out.4 The first decade of Kramerâs career and films matched the volatility of the motion picture industry, veering between successes and setbacks.
Crafting a Careerâs Start
At the end of World War II, Kramer left the Army Signal Corps as a first lieutenant, briefly married radio and theatrical actress Marilyn Erskineâtheir marriage was annulledâand returned to Hollywood. âI found the whole town waiting to ignore me,â he recalled. âI scurried and scrounged for some kind of job until I finally decided if I wanted one, Iâd have to invent it myself. Thatâs when I decided to declare myself a producer.â5 His new career direction fit with the transformation of the production system then occurring in Hollywood. Eight big companies still dominated the industry: five âmajorsâ that owned theaters (Loewâs/MGM, Warner Brothers, Paramount, 20th Century-Fox, and RKO) and three âminorsâ that did not own theaters (Universal, Columbia, and United Artists). But the old studio system, a factorylike system of mass production that required ongoing investments in personnel, facilities, and equipment, was no longer economically efficient or profitable in the new postwar environment. Instead, the âpackage-unit systemâ used by independent producers such as Kramer worked better. The producer made one film at a time, bringing together the necessary elements for that particular production and then disbanding. This new system of production allowed for greater flexibility, creativity, and cost saving.6 Kramer became adept at this new mode of filmmaking and rose to the top rank of the Hollywood independents.
But Kramer first needed a production company. He already had co-founded Story Productions, Inc., with Armand S. Deutsch, an heir to the Sears, Roebuck, and Company fortune. âHe came to Hollywood in 1947 with the dream of more than one rich man: to get into the movie business. He needed an ambitious young fellow to show him the ropes, and I was elected.â Although they managed to secure the rights to âa very hot property,â they never proceeded with the production. Kramer believed that âDeutsch had second thoughts about me. To him I was just a kid.â Kramer sold his interest in the film rights to Deutsch and started Screen Plays, Inc., in 1947, with Carl Foreman and Herbert Baker, writers whom he had met in the military; George Glass, a publicist who had worked with Kramer just before the war at Loew-Lewin; and Sam Zagon, an attorney. âSo there we wereâarmy buddies with a new film company!â7
Screen Plays became the first company through which Kramer produced a film but not the last. In 1949 he organized Stanley Kramer Productions, Inc., and over the years he would form different companies for legal and financial reasons. For example, the Stanley Kramer Company, Stanley Kramer Pictures Corporation, and Lomitas Productions received credits for various films at different moments in time over his long career. âBusiness as such does not interest him,â reported Bosley Crowther in a major profile feature article on Kramer in the New York Times in 1950, but as a producer it demanded his attention and drew on his evident âentrepreneurial ability.â8
Financing did as well, and Kramer was creative with funding his productions. Banks were unwilling to put up money without collateral, âand I had no collateral.â âIn other words, to attain a loan, the producer need only give tangible proof he has no need of one.â At Bank of America, he also was told he had no reputation to bank on: âWho are you, Mr. Kramer?â9 Despite such blows, he made it work. Early on he found investors, such as Deutsch, and later Hollywood studios would provide funding. He enjoyed telling tales about securing money for his movies, and journalists enjoyed hearing them. One of his favorite stories concerned an acquaintance, Willie Schenker, whom he had met in his early days in Hollywood. Schenker was supposed to invest money in opening a Chinese restaurant, but instead âI promoted Willie out of his seventy-five hundred dollars.â âI suppose you could say that was a triumph of art over egg foo yung.â Schenkerâs investment in Kramerâs first picture, So This Is New York, failed. âMy sense of guilt about Willie was horrible. I mean, the Chinese restaurant had gone up in smoke.â But, with a stake in Kramerâs next few films, Schenkerâs investment paid off at an estimated $300,000, âa pretty good return,â Kramer added.10 He convinced additional investors, such as John Stillman, whose son Robert became an associate producer for a time, and Bruce Church, a produce grower in Salinas, Californiaâs richest agricultural area and the so-called Salad Bowl of the World. With Church and his partners as financial backers, Philip K. Scheuer of the Los Angeles Times could not resist pointing out, Kramer âis thus assured plenty of lettuce.â11
Even as Kramer became more established in the movie industry, he still needed to manage the nerve-racking negotiations of getting a production âgreenlighted.â âIâve always claimed it was the most creative part of filmmaking.â He described one instance, after he and his partners had a story and screenplay they liked: âThen started the almost impossible progression of events which goes into an independent production. We blew our publicity horn. We promoted bank backing. The bank wanted to know who the distributor, director and stars were. But you canât have the others signed until you have the bank setâitâs a vicious circle. So you work on all of them at the same time.â12 Kramer later called these maneuvers âan advanced game of footsy,â while others considered his machinations âa kind of diplomatic gamemanship.â13 Either way, the young producer excelled at pinpointing and persuading potential backers for his films. Financing also came through partnership deals with other independents and with individuals. New business partners such as Sam Katz, cofounder of the Balaban and Katz theater chain, brought funds into Kramerâs companies ($2 million in Katzâs case). Later, United Artists and Columbia Pictures provided financial backing for Kramerâs productions.
Even with financing, Kramer and his partners needed to keep expenses low to ensure they could be covered. They developed several innovative strategies âto use brains instead of moneyâ in their filmmaking. In the process, Kramer received recognition inside and outside the motion picture industry as a âgenius on a low budget.â14 The fundamental strategy was solid preparation, including rehearsals, before shooting the film. âWouldnât you rather we made our mistakes in rehearsal, with no expensive crew standing around,â Kramer asked, âthan make them during shooting at the cost of $2,000 an hour?â This innovation cut the number of shooting days and costs to half the amount of the major studios. âEvery nickel [spent] must show on the screen,â he wrote.15 Although commentators such as Bosley Crowther found this strategy âvery sensible,â it was perceived as ârevolutionaryâ within the industry. Kramer disagreed with this perception. âChanging an obsolete pattern which is losing money is not revolutionary. It is only good solid business. . . . Hell, itâs conservative,â he exclaimed.16
Kramerâs company shared several strategies with other Hollywood independents. They kept overhead low. A small salaried team of Kramer as producer, Foreman as screenwriter, and Glass as production assistant, general manager, publicist, and salesman started. Later, the team expanded to include others, such as a production designer, Rudolph Sternad, and composer Dimitri Tiomkin. They kept only a small officeââIf you want to talk to somebody, you just stick your head out the window and yell,â Glass reportedâand rented soundstages and equipment as needed.17 Their salaries were often deferred until a picture made money. âItâs murder,â Kramer felt. Since the producer needed âto wait till everyone else is paid off, he may never have it at all!â But it got his movies made and set the pattern for the rest of his career. âThatâs smart business,â Hollywood gossip columnist Hedda Hopper reported.18 Deferment evolved into âparticipation,â whereby the filmmakersâfrom th...