RKO Radio Pictures

by Richard B. Jewell

  Production began in December 1934, and quickly devolved into an unending nightmare. At first, the bright lights required by the color camera aggravated the eyes of the actors, especially Miriam Hopkins. Then Sherman developed pneumonia and, to everyone's shock, died in early January.27 The showbiz veteran, who had played the villain in D. W. Griffith's Way Down East as well as directing Mae West in She Done Him Wrong and Hepburn in Morning Glory, was only forty-nine years old.

  Rouben Mamoulian, hired as Sherman's replacement, threw out his predecessor's footage and started over. About two weeks after this, Hopkins came down with pneumonia and was taken to the hospital. She recovered, but her absence delayed the picture considerably.28 The budget continued to escalate, and problems kept cropping up even after the completion of shooting. Postproduction work revealed that the soundtrack was deficient, forcing the rerecording of much of the film and necessitating further delays in its release. Macgowan wrote Whitney: “It is a bitterly ironic fact that in a picture in which we thought we would have to worry about color, we have ended in spending three weeks of time and considerable money and a good deal of heart-ache over sound.”29 The final cost of Becky Sharp was $1,094, 811.30

  The release of the picture in June caused a near-unanimous double-edged response from critics. The quality and artistic usage of color received unqualified praise, while the dramatic elements of the film were considered woefully deficient. The public's response mirrored that of the critics; there was no box-office stampede. Consequently, black-and-white cinematography would remain the industry standard, although other studios would employ three-strip for occasional special features in future years. RKO did not join them until 1945, when it produced The Spanish Main as its first Technicolor feature.31

  Since RKO had invested nothing, its distribution of Becky Sharp produced a profit of $112,000. The Whitneys and Pioneer Pictures, however, must have taken a pretty sound financial beating on the experiment.

  Both Merian Cooper and Kenneth Macgowan left RKO in 1935. Cooper did complete his promised pictures, She and The Last Days of Pompeii, but neither one looked or performed like King Kong, so there was no resistance to his exit. Pioneer Pictures was expected to continue making films for RKO release, especially after Cooper became executive vice-president of the company later in 1935. But after its second Technicolor production, the feeble adventure-musical Dancing Pirate, was released in 1936, the company was folded into David Selznick's new independent enterprise, Selznick International Pictures.

  Figure 11. Becky Sharp (1935). William Faversham, director Rouben Mamoulian, and Frances Dee in front of the mammoth Technicolor camera. The film was the first feature made in three- strip Technicolor. (Courtesy of the University of Southern California Cinematic Arts Library)

  Kenneth Macgowan departed in August to accept a position with the newly formed Twentieth Century-Fox organization. He was a hard worker as well as a man of intelligence and refinement, and such RKO productions as Topaze, Little Women, Wednesday's Child, and Anne of Green Gables reflected his inherent taste. RKO would miss his gentlemanly demeanor and his production ability.

  To bolster its withering staff, RKO promoted several employees to producer status. Edward Kaufman, a former staff writer, became a producer. Lee Marcus was given overall supervision of B pictures in addition to his short film duties. And Robert F. Sisk started producing movies. He had served for some years as the company's head of publicity.

  RKO's only talent acquisitions of consequence in 1935 were composer Irving Berlin, who would work on a non-exclusive basis with the Astaire Rogers series, and French-born opera singer Lily Pons. Kahane and Mc-Donough were evidently influenced by the success of Grace Moore, another operatic star, in One Night of Love and other Columbia releases. They hoped to duplicate Harry Cohn's accomplishment with vehicles especially tailored to Pons's talents. Unfortunately, the studio leaders discovered too late that Grace Moore's popularity was ephemeral. Arriving just as the public was tiring of Moore, Lily Pons failed to develop into a box-office attraction. Berlin, however, would contribute significantly to the company's musicals.

  Fred Astaire adored Irving Berlin, one of America's premier songwriters. He must have been thrilled when RKO hired him. Nevertheless, the dancer's relations with the company grew strained in 1935. His extraordinary rise to the top—making him, without question, RKO's leading male star—meant that a contract renegotiation was in order. Company officials were quite willing to work things out, but Astaire became skittish because of continuing uncertainty about RKO's future leadership. He conveyed his feelings to agent Leland Hayward, who spelled them out in a letter to B. B. Kahane:

  He [Astaire] feels the company is unsettled, due to the recent acquisition of a certain amount of it's [sic] stock by new interests. He feels that working in pictures as he does is such a personal relationship with the people in charge of the company, that to undertake to do this at some future date at which time it is now unknown who will be running the company or who will be making the pictures, is asking too much of anyone in his position. He might have a complete understanding as to his work, his efforts and his ambitions with the people now running the company, only to find at some future date that the new owners and operators would feel entirely different.32

  It is possible to interpret this as a ploy on the part of Astaire and Hayward to secure better terms from RKO, but their motives were likely pure. Astaire was a perfectionist, a man who cared deeply about his art, and it is completely in character for him to have misgivings about a company as unstable as RKO. After all, his future depended on the studio just as, to a significant extent, RKO's future depended on him. The contract discussions were held in abeyance until the leadership questions could be sorted out.

  The only true breakthrough of 1935 came in the directing department. George Stevens had been an RKO employee for several years following his apprenticeship with comedy producer Hal Roach. Like Mark Sandrich, he began work in Lou Brock's short film unit, where he cranked out comedies starring Grady Sutton, Edgar Kennedy, and others. The shorts earned him a chance to direct a Wheeler-Woolsey film, Kentucky Kernels, but it was a Katharine Hepburn picture that fueled his move from B productions to As. A telegram from Pandro Berman to Ben Kahane reveals that it was Berman's idea to use Stevens on Alice Adams: “Have inspiration on Alice Adams. Believe George Stevens man to do this job. Think I can handle Hepburn. Great idea for the company and fully confident he can develop in this picture as Sandrich did in Gay Divorcee. If you are willing gamble a little with me on this, please advise.”33

  When considered in the context of Hepburn's career, Berman's gamble was a large one. After Spitfire and the disappointing financial performances of The Little Minister ($9,000 loss) and Break of Hearts ($16,000 profit), Hepburn needed to play an appealing character in a popular film to rejuvenate her status. Booth Tarkington's Alice turned out to be an inspired choice, and Stevens guided Hepburn and the other elements of the production with verve and humor. The film not only earned $164,000 in profits but revitalized Katharine Hepburn's career as well and rocketed Stevens to the top level of RKO's directorial ranks.

  An even greater surprise than Stevens's firm handling of Alice Adams was John Ford's brilliant direction of The Informer. Little was expected of the film version of Liam O'Flaherty's novel. It was made on a frugal budget ($243,000) as the first of Ford's new three-picture RKO deal. The subject matter proved ideal for the director, a close student of Irish literature and history, and the resulting film became the most prestigious that RKO had ever produced. The Dudley Nichols screenplay, Ford's creation of the constricted, fog-shrouded ambience of Dublin during the Black and Tan occupation, and Victor McLaglen's stunning portrayal of gutter Judas, Gypo Nolan, elicited hosannas from critics all across the country. The National Board of Review named The Informer Best Film of 1935, and it won four Academy Awards: Direction (Ford), Adaptation (Nichols), Male Performance (McLaglen), and Musical Score (Max Steiner). MGM's Mutiny on the Bounty somehow
managed to grab the Best Picture Oscar, although that film won no other major awards.

  The Informer performed erratically on its first run. Subsequent releases, buttressed by the flood tide of critical encomia, turned the picture into a very solid moneymaker. A final tally revealed profits of $325,000.34

  The good news became even better in September. Top Hat kicked off the 1935-1936 program, and RKO would never have a more auspicious Labor Day release. The film today is considered the quintessential Astaire-Rogers musical with its bewitching score by Irving Berlin; supple direction by Mark Sandrich; delightful supporting performances from Edward Everett Horton, Helen Broderick, Eric Blore, and Erik Rhodes; exceptional art design by Van Nest Polglase and Carroll Clark; and its plot of incredibly elaborated romantic misunderstanding—a prime example of the Astaire Rogers formula.

  That plot was concocted by Dwight Taylor and Allan Scott. After a first reading, Fred Astaire was less than impressed. He wrote Pandro Berman:

  In the first place—as this book is supposed to have been written for me with the intention of giving me a chance to do the things that are most suited to me—I cannot see that my part embodies any of the necessary elements except to dance-dance-dance.

  I am cast as a straight juvenile & rather a cocky and arrogant one at that—a sort of objectionable young man without charm or sympathy or humor.

  I cannot see that there is any real story or plot to this script.

  It is a series of events patterned too closely after Gay Divorcee, without the originality & suspense of that play.

  I have practically no comedy of any consequence except in the scene in the cab.

  I am forever pawing the girl or she is rushing into my arms.35

  Astaire's criticism continued at length, but apparently Berman was able to calm the star during personal conferences. Some additional polishing brought the script up to acceptable standards.

  Production was completed in early summer 1935, enabling the studio to get the picture ready for release as the first offering of the 1935-1936 season. Ned Depinet had often expressed a desire for a major hit to kick off the company's new program. With a blockbuster lead, the distribution department would have a much easier time selling the entire slate of RKO films to exhibitors. Depinet's dream came true with Top Hat. It launched a big sales year and even brought four separate lawsuits from exhibitors claiming they should be able to play the film as part of their 1934-1935 commitment. Actually, the exhibitors had a plausible argument. The company had promised two Astaire-Rogers films, Roberta and Radio City Revels, in its 1934-1935 contracts. Since Radio City Revels was not produced, the theater owners felt entitled to Top Hat without having to book the entire RKO product for the new season. Nevertheless, a judge in Ohio ruled in the studio's favor: “ ‘Top Hat,’ in the opinion of Judge Skeel, is a 1935-36 feature picture by reason of its production number and also its national release date, it having previously been agreed that the motion picture season opens officially on September 1st. ‘Top Hat’ was released September 6th.”36

  Top Hat became an immediate and unprecedented (for RKO) smash hit. It easily surpassed all the attendance records of the Radio City Music Hall, bringing in over $244,000 in two weeks.37 W. G. Van Schmus, managing director of the huge palace, wrote Pandro Berman in appreciation:

  I want to congratulate you from the bottom of my heart for this great achievement. I expressed myself to Mac [J. R. McDonough] when he was here and also saw Fred Astaire…and told him of our great pleasure. I wish you would kiss Ginger Rogers on both cheeks for me and tell her that I agree with the critics of the New York papers who stressed her performance and placed her on equal partnership in this wonderful team. There is something so thoroughly human about her performance it appeals to the people. Fred Astaire, of course, has his top position and nobody can take it away from him.38

  Indeed, Top Hat secured a top position for both Astaire and Rogers. In late December, the duo was accorded fourth place on the Motion Picture Herald's list of the “biggest moneymaking stars of 1934–35.”39 It was the first time any RKO performers had appeared in the Top Ten.

  Fred and Ginger were definitely moneymakers. It is arguable whether Top Hat represents the best of the Astaire-Rogers efforts, but the film certainly was their most successful. It earned a profit of $1,325,000, thus making it the top box-office attraction produced by RKO during the 1930s.

  The 1935 releases also included some flops. The Merian Cooper adventures She and The Last Days of Pompeii lost $180,000 and $237,000, respectively. She, the H. Rider Haggard fantasy about eternal youth, had been analyzed by the RKO story department in 1932. A reader named Twitchell reported: “Viewing this story, even in the light of a ‘horror' possibility, I fail to see that it possesses the slightest value to the screen today. It is so old fashioned, so highly improbable, so stilted, that I don't think anything could be done with it to make it worthwhile. NOT RECOMMENDED.”40Nevertheless, Cooper was convinced She had exciting possibilities and prevailed upon J. R. McDonough to purchase the rights from Universal for $20,000.41

  To include some additional moments of excitement, such as a glacial avalanche, Cooper transplanted the story from Africa to the Arctic. For the role of She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, Cooper chose Helen Gahagan, a virtual unknown to motion picture audiences.42 Direction was handled by Irving Pichel and an architect named Lancing C. Holden, the producer apparently being fond of directorial teamwork.

  Production proceeded in a tense atmosphere. Cooper feuded with J. R. McDonough throughout the making of this picture and The Last Days of Pompeii. At one point, Cooper asked McDonough if he could exceed the original budget for She by about 10 percent. McDonough held firm: “I know you have told me for some time you would like to spend from $40,000 to $50,000 more on the picture than your contract permits. My answer to that is still the same, namely, I expect you to make for RKO in accordance with your contract the great picture you promised us for $500,000.”43 The friction between McDonough and the producer may have been a significant factor in Cooper's decision to leave RKO.

  Figure 12. Top Hat (1935). Director Mark Sandrich directs Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire as they dance on the famous Venice set of this highly successful musical. (Courtesy of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences)

  The Last Days of Pompeii was better than She, but it cost substantially more ($818,000 versus $521,000) and also lost more. The plot bore no resemblance to Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton's novel of the same name, other than the climatic destruction of the city by erupting Mount Vesuvius. Instead, the Ruth Rose screenplay, based on a story by James Creelman and Melville Baker, was heavily influenced by Cecil B. DeMille's religious epics, especially The Sign of the Cross. One of the disappointments of the picture was the relatively meager level of its spectacle. The scenes in the gladiatorial arena were less than dynamic, and the special effects simulating the devastation of Pompeii were not up to the usual level of Willis O'Brien and his team of wizards.44 Considering that the budget was higher than King Kong's, this is hard to understand. The ultimate responsibility for the picture's nonsuccess, however, must reside with Cooper and the film's director, Ernest B. Schoedsack. They failed to achieve the proper mixture of DeMillean decadence and sanctimony that made films of this type almost certain winners. The Last Days of Pompeii turned out to be considerably less than sensational.45

  Among the year's other disappointments were Enchanted April, an Ann Harding picture that lost $260,000; Jalna, which lost $174,000; Village Tale, which ended up $159,000 in the red; and Lily Pons's debut, I Dream Too Much, which dropped a sobering $350,000 as the final release of the year. Still, when compared to 1934, the quality of RKO releases had taken a giant leap upward in 1935.

  Evidently, David Sarnoff was not particularly impressed by the company's improving product or its prospects. In October he signaled his desire to get out of the moviemaking business when the Atlas Corporation and Lehman Brothers purchased half of RCA's controlling interest in RKO, with an op
tion to buy the other half within two years.46

  Atlas was Floyd Odlum's company. Low-key, bespectacled, and publicityshy, Odlum was nevertheless a highly successful tycoon. Investment analyst and business historian Kenneth L. Fisher has called him the “original corporate raider.”47 Through Atlas, Odlum invested in companies that he felt were undervalued by Wall Street. At the time he made the deal with RCA, Odlum controlled a number of different enterprises, including the Foreign Power Company, United Fruit Company, and the Italian Superpower Corporation. He was no stranger to the movie business, either; besides Paramount, Atlas Corporation held investments in Warner Bros., Fox, and Loew's Incorporated (MGM).48 Odlum knew that his first priority would be development of a reorganization plan to remove RKO from the onus of 77B. He assigned the task to favored associate N. Peter Rathvon, who was then a vice-president of the Atlas Corporation.49

  Rathvon's job would not be easy. There were still many large claims against the company, including one of $8,700,000 from Rockefeller Center. The Motion Picture Herald reported: “The huge Rockefeller Center claim arises out of RKO's liability under leases for the Music Hall and Center Theatre, which held RKO liable for the unamortized cost of the theatres in the event of a default under the lease. Although allowance of the claim at $8,700,000 is being contested by Irving Trust Company, as trustees for RKO, factors in the reorganization are reported not hopeful of obtaining any appreciable reduction in the amount.”50 The story neglected to mention that the claim was also based on the original lease for office space in the RKO Building, a portion of which the company never occupied. Rapid revamping was predicted by the new RKO investors, but the Rockefeller claim plus other complications would cause receivership to drag on.