The First Lady of Hollywood

by Samantha Barbas

  Within hours, Louella had placed calls to every major Hollywood executive-Louis B. Mayer, Joseph Schenck, Nick Schenk, Y. Frank Freeman, Darryl Zanuck, and David Selznick-and demanded that they support her in stopping Kane's release. If they refused, Hearst would run "immediate editorials on Hollywood's employment of refugees and immigrants instead of handing those jobs to Americans," Louella promised .41 During the late 1930s many of the major studios had given jobs to writers, actors, producers, and directors fleeing Hitler's Germany, and the Hearst papers had often printed remarks accusing Hollywood of being "un-American." A full-blown "Americanization campaign" like the kind Louella threatened, predicted the New York Times, "might lead to a Congressional investigation," which could be disastrous for the movie industry.42 Hearst later called the studio heads, and reminded them of the number of times his papers had buried or canceled a scandalous story about a star or director. The executives had little choice but to capitulate. On January 14, Louella triumphantly telegrammed Joe Willicombe that Louis B. Mayer, Joseph Schenck (ofTwentieth Century Fox), and Jack Warner had refused to book Citizen Kane in their theaters.43

  But the film could still be exhibited in theaters owned by RKO. Hoping to pressure RKO to abandon the film, Louella promised David Sarnoff, head of RCA, which had a controlling interest in RKO, an "unfavorable personal article" if Kane were to run in RKO theaters. She also told W. G. Van Schmus, manager of Radio City Music Hall in New York, where Kane's preview was scheduled, that there would be a "total press blackout if he showed the movie"-that no Hearst paper would ever again accept advertising for films that played in the Music Hall. To Nelson Rockefeller, whose family had a sizable stake in RKO and owned Radio City, she threatened a damning "double-page spread on John D. Rockefeller" in Hearst's American Weekly if Citizen Kane were shown. She also threatened the entire RKO Board of Directors with "fictionized" stories of their lives that would run in Hearst papers and magazines. Rockefeller telegrammed Louella on January 14 to say that he had had "a long talk with George Schaefer on the telephone last night" and was attempting to convince the RKO head to withhold the film.44

  But Schaefer would not budge. Determined to release the film, Schaefer and Welles started the Kane publicity machine by sending ads to national magazines and preparing a radio plug for the film.45 Hopper, determined to capitalize on the mess, not only chronicled Kane's saga in her column-"It's fun to watch on the sidelines," she wrote about "the biggest story that's broken in this little old town in many a day"-but also planned a six-part radio program on the life of Orson Welles, which she aired beginning in early Feb- ruary.46 ("Our friend Hedda Hopper is [aiding] Orson Welles's cause," Louella wrote to Hearst. "I think she's a louse, after pretending to be a friend.")47 Amazingly unruffled by the chain of events, Welles remained cocky and impudent as ever. At a January 2-7 Author's Club luncheon in Los Angeles, he announced, "When I get Citizen Kane off my mind, I'm going to work on an idea for a great picture based on the life of William Randolph Hearst. "41

  A week later there was another attempt in Hollywood to suppress the film. In early February, a group of producers led by Louis B. Mayer, fearing Louella's and Hearst's threats, called Schaefer and offered him eight hundred thousand dollars to buy the film and destroy it.49 Schaefer, who was by now convinced that Kane would be a financial success, refused the offer, though the decision by Radio City's manager, Van Schmus, to ban the film from the Music Hall forced him to postpone the premiere. Kane would be shown to the public, Schaefer insisted, though he had little idea where or when.

  Meanwhile, the film was receiving excellent reviews, both in Hollywood and across the nation. The Newsweek critic John 0' Hara called it "the best picture he ever saw," and the New York Times declared that it "comes close to being the most sensational film ever made in Hollywood."50 Declaring "Mr. Genius Comes Through; `Kane' Astonishing Picture," the Hollywood Reporter called the film a "few steps ahead of anything that has been made in pictures before" and Welles's performance "nothing less than astonishing."51

  Throughout February 1941, the battle over Kane continued, and by March it had become a farce. With a minor contract dispute serving as a pretext (Joseph Ermolieff, a European producer, had sued RKO for breach of a producing contract entered into in July 1939), Hearst papers across the nation lambasted Schaefer and RKO for unethical business practices.52 Undaunted by the attack, Schaefer searched for theaters that would book the film, but found that most theater owners were reluctant to show it. He continued to postpone the preview. Impatient with the delays, Welles then announced that he would sue the studio to force the release of Kane.53 Shortly after Welles's ultimatum, Hearst's rival, Henry Luce, editor of Time, Life, and Fortune magazines, offered RKO a million dollars for the negative and prints of Kane. Fearing that RKO would never release the film, and believing that "the world should see it," Luce planned to exhibit the film himself.54

  By the end of March, with the preview indefinitely stalled and lawsuits threatened by both Hearst and Welles, the fight over Citizen Kane was now largely in the hands of Schaefer, Welles, and Hearst's lawyers. In an attempt to expose Welles as "unpatriotic," Louella had placed calls to the local draft board demanding to know why Welles had not been called into the service. Louella also took part in an investigation of Welles's involvement in an episode of the CBS radio series The Free Company, which the Hearst papers accused of "tending to encourage communism."55 Neither effort, however, dissuaded Schaefer and Welles from showing the film, and in May RKO finally released it. Kane appeared in a handful of RKO theaters and independent art theaters in major cities. Hardly the success they had predicted, it flopped at the box office at a loss of $150,000 to the studio. "Thought you might like to congratulate Schaeffer and Orson Welles," Louella wrote to Hearst on May 23. "Citizen Kane up to date has cost them $zoo,ooo to keep theaters open-and did $96 worth of business one night at El Capitan. Is considered the greatest flop Hollywood has ever seen. I am so sorry I am crying and I thought you would be sad about it too."56

  The commercial failure of Kane, it turned out, would be the least of Welles's troubles. Though Citizen Kane was named the best film of 1941 by the National Board of Review and was nominated for nine Academy Awards, including best picture, best actor, and best director (it won only one, best screenplay, which Welles and Mankiewicz shared), as a result of the battle over Kane, Welles was essentially blacklisted in Hollywood and would make only a few films during the rest of his career. Louella omitted Welles from her column until the late 1940s, when she poked fun at his failing career and romances. Louella also blacklisted Joseph Cotten and Agnes Moorehead, who had starring roles in the film. When Agnes Moorehead won the New York Film Critics Award for the 1942 film The Magnificent Ambersons, Louella sniped in her column that Hollywood was "raising its eyebrows" over the choice.57

  Both in and out of her column, Louella also lashed out against those who had supported Welles, including producer Samuel Goldwyn, whom Louella described in a letter to Hearst as having "boosted Citizen Kane all over the place."58 Goldwyn's punishment was temporary banishment from the column. Louella also attacked Daily Variety, which had supported Welles, and, in December 1941, proudly told Hearst that Louis B. Mayer, out of loyalty to Hearst, had discontinued MGM's advertising with the "Hollywood dirt sheet."59 That same month, when Hearst's American Weekly ran a somewhat unflattering story about Marlene Dietrich, Louella reminded Hearst that "Dietrich was one of few actresses who refused to go to Welles's opening because of her respect" for Hearst.60 Hearst then asked Louella to "make apologies," and Louella responded by praising Dietrich in the column.61

  Though Louella shot most of the arrows in the war over Kane, she too was wounded in the battle. Not surprisingly, the brouhaha over Kane hit the mainstream press. By early February, the New York Times, Newsweek, and Time had not only chronicled the story of the ongoing controversy but also exposed Louella's role in the attempt to ban the film. After seeing Kane, "Lolly Parsons nearly fell out of her chair," Time com
mented in its January 27 issue. "She rose like a geyser. As the lights came on, Miss Parsons and the lawyers steamed out.... Next, excited Lolly Parsons phoned RKO headman Schaefer [and] appealed to him to stop Citizen Kane."62 Snickered Newsweek, "A few obsequious and/or bulbous middle-aged ladies think the picture ought not to be shown, owing to the fact that the picture is rumored to have something to do with a certain publisher.... Sycophancy of that kind, like curtseying, is deliberate. The ladies merely wait for a chance to show they can do it, even if it means cracking a femur. This time I think they may have cracked off more than they can chew. "63

  According to Variety, the Omaha World Herald had stopped carrying Louella's column, explaining that "inasmuch as the Parsons ... daily roundup [does] not carry any mention of RKO pix," it did not "represent a true coverage of the film front."64 Louella complained to the Chief. "I do not think the Omaha World Herald should be allowed to throw out my column because of RKO. I have been very careful about not saying anything serious about RKO at any time[,] and I have had RKO news although I haven't gone overboard. It looks like the whole thing has been planted by Schaefer and some of his crowd. I hope we can do something about this as I hate to lose the Omaha coverage[,] because I have so many fans there and get so many letters. "65

  "`It Can't Happen Here,"' the Hollywood Reporter wrote: "Louella Parsons doing a radio preview of Citizen Kane. "66 Though the Reporter joked, the film community was appalled by Louella's unethical campaign against Welles. This time she had gone too far.

  And then-predictably, like clockwork-in the spring of 1941, the "free talent" controversy cracked wide open. It started at the party Louella had thrown in early January for the studio publicity directors. In addition to enlisting their help for the war on Kane, she had announced that she was lining up a sponsor for another "free talent" radio show.67 The publicists politely imbibed their drinks, then went back to their offices and hit the roof. The following day, Daily Variety accused Louella of exploiting actors to "fatten her wallet." But none of the studio brass, particularly in the midst of the Welles controversy, were willing to pick a fight, so Louella continued to pursue sponsorship with Lever Brothers, the makers of Lifebuoy and Rinso soaps. After each of the major studios had promised that their top stars would appear on the show, Louella's deal seemed nearly clinched. In late January, Louella authorized Harry to enter into formal negotiations.61 A contract was drawn up, ready for Louella's signature, when SAG got word and took action.69

  In early February 1941, in response to Louella, the SAG board officially adopted a rule prohibiting its members from appearing on radio programs without compensation. The policy was adopted quietly, and neither the studios nor Louella seemed to take it seriously. Thus in March, confident that SAG's resolution would not threaten her ability to line up actors for the show, Louella signed a contract with Lever Brothers for a thirteen-week "free talent" program. Like Hollywood Hotel, Hollywood Premiere would feature radio adaptations of scenes from upcoming movies, followed by a short interview session. One radio historian described it as "a reduced Hollywood Hotel without the music and song."70

  The show's debut, scheduled for 7 P.M. on Friday, March z8, on CBS, was heralded with the "most ambitious promotional campaign ever given the opening of a radio show," according to Radio Daily. Three hundred fifty supermarkets in the Los Angeles area displayed cards in their soap aisles promoting the premiere, and "special mimeographed releases went to nearly 400 newspapers throughout the country." Public schools in "35 important cities" plugged the show via bulletins read by pupils and teachers. Louella had in vited several of her colleagues to come watch the opening broadcast. Given the sentiment in most Hollywood circles following Kane, however, many of them declined. (David Selznick had told his secretary to use the excuse that he and his wife, Irene, "were planning on leaving Friday evening for the weekend.")71 When Lever Brothers' marketing research staff that month concluded that 96 percent of radio listeners supported "advance previewing of motion pictures on the air," executives at both Lever Brothers and CBS predicted great success for the program. Some even anticipated that Hollywood Premiere would become more popular than Hollywood Hotel.72

  Then, on March 26, the Motion Picture Relief Fund, a charity organization for unemployed actors and studio personnel, dropped a bomb. In fullpage ads in Variety, Daily Variety, and the Hollywood Reporter, the fund claimed that Hollywood Premiere endangered a weekly radio show for the relief fund put on by SAG members, and it "protest[ed] Miss Louella Parsons' radio show." "The Motion Picture Relief Fund has asked actors to contribute their time and talent for the benefit of their own charity," fund president Jean Hersholt wrote. "A show of the type Miss Parsons has planned requires that actors waive their usual compensation and contribute their time and talent to advertise a commercial product." SAG, in sympathy with Hersholt, published an announcement the following day that promised the fund "enforcement to the limit" of its policy against free commercial radio performances and dispatched to its twelve hundred members a notice of "disciplinary action" to be taken if they violated the rule. "If you have been asked to appear on this program," the letter read, referring specifically to Hollywood Premiere, "the Guild asks you to refuse to appear. If a columnist can provide $io,ooo worth of acting talent for a fraction of that amount, actors' salaries will come down." The letter concluded with the guild's resolution that it would "fight as long as necessary to stop the evil of the free talent shows."73

  After a conference the following day at which Kenneth Thompson, executive secretary of SAG, and Harry, on behalf of Louella, made "peace overtures," Louella issued a public apology that appeared in film trade journals throughout the country.

  Gentlemen:

  Published statements that my radio program might affect the Motion Picture Relief Fund have been the cause of great unhappiness to me. For more than twenty five years I have worked consistently to further the best interest of the Motion Picture industry and its people, including the Motion Picture Relief Fund. Before the radio contract was signed, I received full assurance from the motion picture producers that they welcomed an opportunity for this valuable exploitation of their pictures on the type of program which I originated years ago.74

  The letter concluded with Louella's announcement that she would discontinue the "free talent" policy at the end of Hollywood Premiere's initial thirteen-week run. Either Lifebuoy would have to foot the bill for talent, or she would refuse to accept another contract.75 True to her promise, in June 1941 Louella signed on to another thirteen-week term with Lever Brothers only after it had allocated a generous talent budget for the show. Although over izo actors had already agreed to appear during the initial run without pay, Lever Brothers nonetheless paid them fees comparable to what they would have earned on other programs.76

  Meanwhile, the show earned high marks from fans. "Members of the Louella Parsons fan club located in Chicago are contemplating a trip to Hollywood to be guests of the famous columnist at one of her Hollywood Premiere broadcasts at CBS some Friday evening," Radio Daily reported. "A letter to the star from one of her fans states that they are now tussling with the problem of financing the trek. Miss Parsons is the only columnist in Hollywood who has a fan club. Louella receives an average of zo letters a week from girls who aspire to become movie columnists. Some are so ambitious to break into the Hollywood writing game that they'll even work for her without salary. One went so far as to offer to become a maid in the Parsons household provided she could study her syndicated writing technique." 77 "Any time Louella Parsons wants to have her Beverly Hills house painted free, one Charles Mason of Lexington, KY, will do the job free," wrote San Diego Radio. "In a letter applauding Miss Parsons' Hollywood Premiere, he explained that he is a painter by profession and he'll be happy to work for her without charge. He'll even provide his own transportation between Lexington and Hollywood." 78 Critics praised Louella not only for her work on Hollywood Premiere (thanks to voice lessons, they noted, Louella's delivery had improved
vastly) but also for her contributions to American radio. "Radio owes a great deal to the much maligned Louella," wrote Radio Daily, which credited her with single-handedly "[helping] the radio industry establish itself in Hollywood. While Louella may ... [use] her column to make more secure her radio [program], the final result has been to help significantly the progress of the industry in the West."79

  Despite the public acclaim, the film community was still smoldering over the Kane affair. In response, in August 1941, after a well-publicized conference with the LosAngeles Times, MGM publicity head Howard Strickling and the other publicity directors of the major studios announced that they were rescinding the forty-eight-hour exclusive. Henceforth, "no exclusive movie news will be fed to Louella Parsons by studio blurb departments," Variety announced; instead, news would be released to all the columnists simultane- ously.80 "Bet you didn't know how good I am. Didn't know myself until last week when the Times summoned all the heads of publicity in the studios and demanded that I get no more scoops. It does not worry me[,] because I get most of my scoops outside the studios," Louella wrote to Hearst.81

  But she revealed her true feelings later that evening. The decision had been announced on Louella's birthday, August 6, and at the party that night she got outrageously drunk. In her stupor she picked up the phone and called over a dozen friends, including Hearst, to complain of what she described as horrible treatment by the studios. Embarrassed, the following day she sent a telegram to Hearst apologizing for her "telephonitis." "Maybe I was a little thin skinned[,] but so many people telephoned all day in indignation about the thing and I guess it seemed worse on my birthday than it would have on any other day," she wrote.12

  A few weeks later, in mid-September, despite a horrible cold, Louella traveled to Dixon for "Louella Parsons Day," the weekend of festivities that was to be the culmination of her career. As the train pulled into the station, crowds holding signs cheered.83 When Bob Hope announced her before the assembled group of thousands, she held back tears. Even more gratifying was Louella's reunion with her aunt Carrie Roe, who remarked that Helen Oettinger would have been "the happiest woman in the world if she could have lived to see this day." "The whole thing," Louella recalled, "seems to spin in my memory like a happy but dizzy dream."84