The Genius of the System: Hollywood Filmmaking in the Studio Era

by Thomas Schatz

Ranging from the first productions in Hollywood to the apparent destruction of the studio system with the coming of television, this is an account of the workings of the "old Hollywood" and the foundations of the "new".

Genres: Film, History, Nonfiction, Media Tie In, Art, School, Business

Paperback

First published January 1, 1988

About the author

Tom Schatz is the Mary Gibbs Jones Centennial Chair (and interim chairman) of the Department of Radio-Television-Film at The University of Texas at Austin, where he has been on the faculty since 1976, and is the Executive Director of the University of Texas Film Institute. He has written four books about Hollywood films and filmmaking, including Hollywood Genres: Formulas, Filmmaking, and the Studio System; The Genius of the System: Hollywood Filmmaking in the Studio Era; and Boom and Bust: American Cinema in the 1940s. Schatz edited the four-volume collection, Hollywood: Critical Concepts, and he also serves as series editor of the Film and Media Studies Series for the University of Texas Press. Schatz's writing on film has appeared in numerous magazines, newspapers, and academic journals, including The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, Premiere, The Nation, Film Comment, Film Quarterly, and Cineaste.

Schatz lectures widely on American film and television in the U.S. and abroad, and he has delivered talks and conducted seminars for the Motion Picture Academy, the Directors Guild of America, the American Film Institute and the Los Angeles Film School. Schatz also is engaged in media production, has consulted and provided on-screen commentary for a number of film and television documentaries, and is co-producer of "The Territory," a long-running regional PBS series that showcases independent film and video work.

Schatz's recent publications include an essay on "Band of Brothers" in The Essential HBO Reader (2008) and "The Studio System and Conglomerate Hollywood," the lead essay in The Contemporary Hollywood Film Industry (2008). Current publishing projects include a study of contemporary Hollywood and a revised edition of Hollywood Genres.

As Executive Director of the UT Film Institute, which he founded and launched in 2003, Schatz oversees a program devoted to training students in narrative and digital filmmaking, and the actual production of feature-length independent films.

Reviews

[Carla Remy · Rating 4 out of 5]

The story of the Hollywood studio system, its life from the 1920s until the studios died /changed around 1960. A great deal of focus on David Selznick and Alfred Hitchcock. Fascinating through and through. I liked reading about how movies dealt with television (by selling their catalogues to TV networks, among other things).

[Dfordoom · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Genius of the System isn’t quite a history of Hollywood during the golden age. As the author admits, to have tried to tackle the history of all the studios in this period would have been beyond the resources of a single writer and would have made for an inordinately long book. Instead author Thomas Schatz concentrates his attention on two major studios, one minor studio and one independent producer.

The two major studios Schataz chooses are MGM and Warner Brothers, his third subject is one of the “major minors,” in this case Universal, and the independent producer David O. Selznick.

The great strength of this book is that the author does not set out with a preconceived idea that the studio system was repressive or morally dubious, or that studio executives like Louis B. Mayer, Jack Warner or Darryl F. Zanuck were monsters. As his book makes clear, Hollywood in its golden age made great movies as a result of a fruitful partnership between enlightened but practical studio executives, visionary producers and talented directors.

The book’s other great strength is that Schatz largely ignores the auteur theory, the theory that there is only one true creative force behind any movie and that force is the director. He argues, very convincingly, that producers had at least as much impact on the finished product as directors and that those directors who are usually singled out for auteur status were those directors who were able to combine the roles of director and producer.

The great strength of the studio system is that it created an environment in which creativity could blossom and in which a unique balance was achieved between business and art. Even those mavericks who operated largely outside the studio system needed the support that the studio system provided. The creative personnel who bucked the system, people like Alfred Hitchcock and David O. Selznick, flourished during the great days of the studio system.

The studio system represented a unique partnership between capitalism and art, and it worked. When it was destroyed, by a combination of television and excessively zealous government intervention in the marketplace, the result was a cultural tragedy of epic proportions. A unique balance has been achieved and once that balance was disrupted Hollywood started on a downward slide that has continued to this day.

The Genius of the System is one of the finest books ever written about Hollywood and is highly recommended to anyone who loves movies.

[Graeme Newell · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was a bit of a letdown for me. I had high hopes for an engaging, behind-the-scenes look at classic Hollywood, but what I got felt more like a dry history lesson.

This book gives you a behind-the-scenes tour of the studio system that ruled Hollywood from the 1920s to the 1960s.

Let's talk about the good stuff first. Schatz really knows his topic and dives deep into how studios like MGM, Warner Bros., and Universal were run. He breaks down how each studio was like its own little movie factory, cranking out films with a ton of teamwork and coordination. It’s fascinating to see how these places were more like assembly lines than the creative free-for-alls you might imagine.

One of the better parts of the book was how Schatz shines a spotlight on the unsung heroes of Hollywood—the producers, writers, and directors who made the magic happen behind the scenes. Names like Irving Thalberg and David O. Selznick get their time to shine, and it’s clear how crucial they were in making the movies we still love today. It’s a refreshing change from the usual focus on actors, and it gives you a new appreciation for the hard work and creativity that went into those classic films.

Now, let’s get into some of the less awesome parts. First off, this book is packed with information. I mean, really packed. Sometimes it feels like you’re drowning in a sea of names, dates, and movie titles. While the level of detail is impressive, it can also be a bit much. There were times I had to put the book down and take a breather because it felt more like studying for a history exam than reading for fun.

Another problem is the way Schatz organizes the information. He dives so deeply into the minutiae of studio operations that the bigger picture often gets lost. It’s easy to get bogged down in the details and lose track of how everything fits together. A bit more narrative flow and a clearer connection between the various parts of the story would have helped a lot.

Even the parts that should have been exciting, like the behind-the-scenes stories of making classics like “Gone with the Wind” and “Casablanca,” didn’t quite hit the mark for me. While there are some interesting anecdotes, they’re few and far between. For the most part, the book feels dry and academic, which is a shame because the subject matter has so much potential for excitement and drama.

I have to admit, Schatz doesn’t shy away from discussing the darker side of the studio system, like exploitation and harsh working conditions. However, even these sections felt a bit flat due to the overall dry tone of the book. I appreciated the critical perspective, but it didn’t make up for the lack of engaging storytelling.

This book is packed with information, but the dense, overwhelming style made it a tough read. If you’re a hardcore film history buff with a lot of patience, you might find some value here. But for anyone looking for an engaging, behind-the-scenes look at Hollywood’s golden age, this book is a tough sell. If you decide to tackle it, be prepared for a heavy read and maybe keep a notebook handy for all those names and dates—trust me, you’ll need it.

[Tom Stamper · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thought I knew how the studio system worked before reading this book, but I came away realizing that the system was just a generic term for having exclusive rights to talent and big pieces of real estate in which to make and show movies. The overhead to run big studios was enormous so the trick was to keep everyone busy making product while balancing quality and cost. Irving Thalberg had a production approach that was perfect for the Studio system. MGM could not duplicate it without him and by the late 40s it was obsolete anyway. Those Thalberg years were productive for MGM at a time when no other studio made money on their pictures. Maybe Warners and Paramount made enough money in their theaters to offset the production losses. I was never quite sure of Schatz’s accounting methods. But all of this was contrary to how movies have been described as depression proof due to people needing an escape from poverty. Universal, for instance, made good money with their horror output but then blew the money on prestige films that never had a chance of making a profit. Warners made great earning gangster pictures and then Cagney and Robinson would moan about better roles in pictures that would lose money.

If there was any lesson of the studio era it’s that prestige pictures were money losers and b-movies and serials were cash cows. Most of MGM’s profit from the late 1930s were on Mickey Rooney’s cheap Andy Hardy series. Abbott and Costello or Hope and Crosby could rake it in with cheap production values. The smaller studios that made mostly B films could more easily transition into television where the production values were all B Grade or lower.

After Thalberg, the next innovator was David Selznick that made deals with the big studios as an independent. Selznick was more successful after Gone with the Wind than I knew. He just never topped GWTW. He made a fairly good living loaning out his signed talent such as Hitchcock, Joan Fontaine, Ingrid Bergman, Joseph Cotton, Jennifer Jones. and Gregory Peck. He only made four films with Hitchcock in the 1940s. Hitchcock’s other films were loan outs. MCA agent Lew Wasserman would follow a similar pattern as Selznick in the 1950s by packing his clients to the studios. He was so successful that it led to running Universal Studios.

The end of the studio system seemed to ruin the careers of a lot of great directors. With a few exceptions, Hitchcock, John Ford, Howard Hawks, George Stevens, William Wyler, Billy Wilder, and Frank Capra were finished making classics by the early 1960s. They couldn’t make those kinds of movies without being surrounded by the studio apparatus they took for granted. It does give some fuel to the idea that the auteur theory is overblown. They were the most talented directors of their generation, but without the supporting cast of writers and producers and set designers, their talent wasn’t enough. What I took from the book is that the studio system was kind of a fluke and the way it caught on like a virus gave the public a very unique kind of movie that will never quite be duplicated.

Note: Be sure to read the introduction at the beginning of the book. It almost works as a stand alone essay and gets you hooked before you ever start on the meat of the book.

[Steve Schechter · Rating 3 out of 5]

Movies used to wholly produced by studios. Before the 1960s, the studios controlled every piece of production. They generated and formed the ideas, assigned the creative talent, and executed to the schedule proscribed by a production executive. Filmmaking was driven by the studios, not the filmmakers.

In “The Genius of the System,” author Thomas Schatz isn’t interested in taking a side on which way is better. He’s interested in tirelessly laying out the ways in which the studios used to produce movies. Schatz limits his research to four companies: MGM, Warner Brothers, Universal, and the companies run by David Selznick. The results are usually stimulating but sometimes exhausting.

Some of Schatz’s best work is done on MGM, especially on the Thalberg era. Irving Thalberg implemented a central producer system, first at Universal and then at MGM, where films were planned from his office and the offices of his trusted associate producers. These men meticulously planned everything from pre-production all the way through post-production, which included numerous previews and reshoots if necessary. Thalberg, backed by Louis B. Mayer, learned to spend freely but never exorbitantly in order to achieve quality. The results spoke for themselves as MGM dominated the marketplace until Thalberg’s untimely death in 1936. While MGM still did well immediately following Thalberg’s death and for many years after, they would eventually fall back to the rest of the pack and even start to drag behind them.

The chapters on Warner Brothers are also intriguing. The little studio that sent the majors crashing into the sound era was never short on drama. Schatz describes how Warner Brothers developed their house style of socially relevant crime films. Something I didn’t realize was that Warners established their style while being the leader in movie musicals. But even their musicals, like 42nd Street and Gold Diggers of 1933, were always very much set in the Depression. Social relevance was always part of the Warners’ style.

The best work has to do with the ongoing battles between stars and the Warners. Notoriously thrifty and sanctimonious with their talent, it seems like all of the stars at Warner Brothers rebelled at one time or another. Jimmy Cagney, Edward G. Robinson and others were constantly taking suspensions to protest against assignments they disagreed with. Perhaps no one fought with the Warners more than Bette Davis. It wasn’t until she sued and won that the Warners had to expand their worldview when it came to contract talent.

Schatz does significant work on Hollywood’s first independent mega-producer, David O. Selznick. Sharp, brilliant, and utterly exhausting, Selznick was responsible for massive hits like Gone With the Wind. Selznick argued his way into MGM, moved onto RKO, and broke off on his own to tremendous success. I had no idea that Selznick was as much of an agent as he was a producer. Selznick made a nice profit loaning out his contract talent, like Alfred Hitchcock, to other studios. He also was one of the leading proponents of packaging talent for films, which is standard practice today. What also makes this fascinating is that packaging is the central issue in the current battle between the WGA and talent agents today. It’s a battle that won’t likely be won anytime soon.

The work on Universal was the least interesting to me. The best stuff is on the development of the horror film at Universal. Schatz outlines how talent like William Castle and Tod Browning developed and perfected a genre that endures with great strength today. Audiences will always want to be scared. And studios will always want to produce cheap, profitable product. Universal had a great run of it in the 1930s. But their lack of leadership and direction ultimately held them back.

After reading this book I was amazed that the studio system functioned at all. It seemed like every movie, and I do mean every movie, ran over budget and over schedule. Most films had disastrous preview screenings which led to recuts, reshoots, and additional costs. The studio system seemed like organized chaos. It was the ones who understood it best, like Thalberg and Selznick, who made the most of it.

I liked most of the book but not all of it. Schatz spends significant time describing the production of movies I didn’t really care about. I don’t need ten pages on the rise of Deanna Durbin at Universal. But that’s probably a matter of personal taste more than it’s a criticism of the author. Another quibble is the text of the book is printed in small print. The book is 489 pages to begin with and when I have to work harder to read, it seems like a lot of effort. Again this isn’t a criticism of the author. It’s a criticism of the publishers.

I recommend The Genius of the System but with reservations. You have to be a hardcore classic movie fan to enjoy it. Those with a passing interest might be exhausted by it. Schatz is a good writer but he tends to write long sentences. They can wear down a reader. But as a hardcore classic film fan, I got a lot out of the book. There are movies in my dvr from TCM because I read about them in this book. It’s expanded my film palette and I learned a great deal. Not my favorite but definitely worth your time.

[Keith · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a great history of Hollywood's golden era. Thomas Schatz takes an unusual approach, focusing on the business side of things and the collaboration that defined this era of filmmaking. Making movies was and still is big business - it was all profit-driven and the storytelling was directly shaped by market forces. The big studios intentionally used “assembly-line production systems” (p. 5) and their products very rarely reflected the artistic vision of a single person. And yet the studio system of roughly 1925-1960 produced many very good and great films. At its heart, The Genius of the System is a much-needed attack on Andrew Sarris’s overreaching and pretentious take on the auteur theory. As Schatz puts it:

“…the closer we look at Hollywood’s relations of power and hierarchy of authority during the studio era, at its division of labor and assembly-line production process, the less sense it makes to assess filmmaking or film style in terms of the individual director - or any individual, for that matter.” (p. 5).

This era was an example of how consumerism and art can work together. Yes, there were many great and distinctive directors during the studio era - along with many notable screenwriters, film editors, producers, actors, cinematographers, music composers, art directors, costume designers, etc. - yet their authority over the filmmaking process “came only with commercial success and was won by filmmakers who proved not just that they had the talent but that they could work profitably within the system” (p. 5). Truthfully, movies have always been a popular art form, appealing to the masses - and a mongrel art form at that. It’s a mixture of other mediums, such as photography, theater, music, painting, novels, and (after the advent of sound) radio that occasionally comes together into something truly great.
In The Genius of the System, Schatz works by “interweaving the stories of Warners, MGM, Universal, and [David O.] Selznick” to “look closely at individual companies and still keep an eye on the development of the industry at large” (pp. 9-11). These companies, along with other major and minor studios, developed their own unique styles. Studios, especially the five biggest ones, had an unparalleled level of authority in the film industry from the 1920s until around 1960. This reflected and helped shape American culture, and perhaps world culture, at large. This is a fascinating read for anyone with an interest in the movies.

QUOTES:

“Auteurism itself would not be worth bothering with if it hadn’t been so influential, effectively stalling film history and criticism in a prolonged stage of adolescent romanticism. But the closer we look at Hollywood’s relations of power and hierarchy of authority during the studio era, at its division of labor and assembly-line production process, the less sense it makes to assess filmmaking or film style in terms of the individual director - or any individual, for that matter. The key issues here are style and authority - creative expression and creative control - and there were indeed a number of Hollywood directors who had an unusual degree of authority and a certain style. John Ford, Howard Hawks, Frank Capra, and Alfred Hitchcock are good examples, but it’s worth noting that their privileged status - particularly their control over script development, casting, and editing - was more a function of their role as producers than as directors. Such authority came only with commercial success and was won by filmmakers who proved not just that they had talent but that they could work profitably within the system.” (pp. 5-6).

*

“[Director Tod] Browning did press on with Dracula [1931] after Laemmle signed Bela Lugosi, who starred in the stage version and had worked once with Browning at MGM. One can only speculate what Lon Chaney would have done in the role, though by now anyone but Lugosi as Dracula seems inconceivable. This is a good indication, more than half a century after the filmic fact, of the powerful association between star and character, star and genre.” (p. 90).

*

“Warner Brothers. It…says something about the interplay of narrative economy and cost-efficiency. [Director Mervyn] LeRoy’s detached style required fewer camera setups, since he seldom broke down the dramatic space for close-ups, shot/reverse shots, and glance-object cutting.
Ultimately, our perspective is akin to that of somebody watching a rat in a maze - the hero is victimized by social conditions and by circumstances beyond his control. But there is precious little time for us to contemplate the social implications or to demand a closer rapport with the hero, since all of our energies and his are consumed by his inexorable flight. As in so many Warners’ male-oriented sagas, the subtleties of character development and narrative complexity - and ultimately of visual technique - give way to a curious momentum, with the hero’s obsessive, hell-bent quest moving the picture along at a frantic pace. This offsets LeRoy’s essentially static camera in individual scenes, giving the impression of a rather dynamic visual style…
…All in all, the visual and narrative techniques in I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang [1931] indicated how Warners’ top directors turned the constraints of tight budgets and schedules to their advantage, translating Harry Warner’s demand for cost-efficiency into an economic narrative style, one that was ideally suited to the stories they told.” (pp. 146-7).

*

“Bette Davis also was getting to know [director William] Wyler personally and seeing him at night. The two became lovers soon after Wyler arrived on the lot [for the film Jezebel (1937)], and their affair brought an end to Davis’s troubled marriage... Wyler and [John] Huston worked evenings through the shoot and with heavy input from Davis, rewriting the script, polishing the dialogue, and blocking out each day’s camera setups. Thus Davis helped shape the project and John Huston got a crash course in filmmaking and in the politics of sex and power in Hollywood.” (p. 222).

*

“Huston considered [Henry] Blanke his ‘champion and mentor’, but Willie Wyler seems to have had the greatest influence on his working methods and directorial style. Following Wyler’s approach to Jezebel, Huston carefully plotted each setup [for The Maltese Falcon (1941)] and conducted heavy rehearsals with both cast and crew, occasionally spending an entire day working out a scene without printing a single take.” (p. 309)

*

“Scarlet Street [1945] was a triumph for Diana, a money maker for Universal, and one of Hollywood’s consummate noir dramas. And despite [director Fritz] Lang’s protestations, it was scarcely a butchered masterpiece. In fact, the Universal-Diana setup seems to have been ideal for a filmmaker of Lang’s talents and his self-indulgent excesses; the studio provided the necessary resources while Wanger provided both the protection and the discipline that Lang clearly needed.” (p. 357).

*

“...it was [film producer and lyricist] Arthur Freed who orchestrated MGM’s musical golden age, virtually defining its trajectory from 1944 with Meet Me in St. Louis to Gigi in 1958…Gene Kelly starred and danced in nine Freed musicals, and Fred Astaire in six. Alan Jay Lerner and the team of Betty Comden and Adolph Green wrote virtually all of the top Freed-unit hits - often the lyrics as well as the book. Lerner, Comden, and Green primarily did stage musicals because they preferred Broadway’s creative freedom (and greater financial rewards, since writers owned a piece of their productions) to the constraints of movie writing. But in Arthur Freed they found a collaborator whose taste and judgment they trusted and whose production unit could transform even their most stage-bound efforts into uniquely cinematic experiences. In fact, An American in Paris [1951] and Singin’ in the Rain [1952], arguably the Freed unit’s greatest achievements, both were original screenplays - the former by Lerner and the latter by Comden and Green - and are inconceivable in any other medium.” (pp. 448-9).

*

“But as Hitchcock was being canonized by critics and historians as the exemplary American auteur, his output suggested something quite different: that in order to turn out quality pictures with any consistency, even a distinctive stylist and inveterate independent like Hitchcock required a base of filmmaking operations, a pool of resources and personnel, a consistent production unit, and a stable management setup. Hitchcock and others were learning, creative freedom and control were of little value without the resources and the constraints that had been basic to the old system but were sorely lacking in the New Hollywood [beginning in the 1960s].
Invariably, the most successful filmmakers in the New Hollywood were those who, like Hitchcock, during his peak years, were basically unit producers able to maintain continuity and stability in an increasingly unstable and uncertain industry. A few successful producer-directors [such as Francis Ford Coppola, Robert Altman, and George Lucas] even tried to create their own studios, hoping to capture the discipline, efficiency, and quality control of the studio system.” (p. 491).

I feel inspired to revisit Easy Riders, Raging Bulls (1998) by Peter Biskind! That is an obvious follow-up to Schatz's book, as it is about the "New Hollywood" of the 1960s and 1970s, another one of my favorite eras of filmmaking.


**


Citation:
Schatz, T. (2010). The genius of the system: Hollywood filmmaking in the studio era. University of Minnesota Press. (Original work published 1988)
*



Citation:
Schatz, T. (2021). The genius of the system: Hollywood filmmaking in the studio era (Paul Boehmer, Narr.). Tantor. https://www.audible.com/pd/The-Genius... (Original work published 1988)

Title: The Genius of the System: Hollywood Filmmaking in the Studio Era
Author(s): Thomas Schatz
Year: 1988
Genre: Nonfiction - Film history
Page count: 528 pages
Date(s) read: 5/2/24 - 5/11/24
Book # 99 in 2024
**

[Douglas Noakes · Rating 5 out of 5]

A comprehensive history of the production systems behind Classic Hollywood studios, highlighting how each major studio developed a "house style". Schatz concentrates on MGM, Warner Bros., Universal, and the independent producer David O. Selznick. Major Moguls like Jack and Harry Warner, Louis B. Mayer and Irving Thalberg share the focus of the book with major directors and stars.

From a strict contract system and a "production plant" set-up, the overall "studio system" devolved after World War II into a system where the "Big Eight" studios had their contract system usurped by agents and deal-makers creating "packages" of stars, writers and directors (Alfred Hitchcock, James Stewart,Doris Day, et al) brought together for one or two picture deals that included percentages of the profits instead of a weekly salary.

The system worked well for three decades--roughly from 1925-55--producing hundreds of A and B programmers and a few "prestige" films (Like Selznick's "Rebecca" and "Gone With the Wind"). The development and dissolution of this "Golden Era" is as compelling a tale as any Hollywood history I have read.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

Investigates filmmaking from the 1920s to 1960 by looking at MGM, Warners, Universal, and David Selznick. Very focused on the business and the impact of producers. Excellent in many ways, although I spotted a couple errors. Scholarly but very readable.

8/2/16: Forgetting I'd read this and not paying much attention to the book, purchased it today at a thrift store. OK, I'd glad I liked it. Really don't intend to read it again, but will be happy to have it.

[Justin Decloux · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating for about 3/4s of its page count until all the mega-producers like Thalberg and O. Selznick are out of the picture and things start to fall apart. Gets a little tiresome to read so many budgets, but you get used to it.

[Ethan · Rating 3 out of 5]

An encompassing academic view of the studio system in early Hollywood (starting with the 20s and ending in the 50s with the dawn of television and some government anti-monopoly intervention).

Schatz weaves his tale through history by focusing on major studios, a few minor ones, and some independent producers. His view on Hollywood’s history is interesting as there is a much sharper focus on producers and their impact - as opposed to actors or directors.

For those looking for a study of Hollywood, or almost your own history class, this is a great resource! From the pages, I personally collected a list of the films that received more focus and plan to marathon them soon and catch up on the classics. Will loop back if I recommend

[Mark Matheson · Rating 2 out of 5]

Schatz is comprehensive—and just as dry—in his look at the studio system of early Hollywood. He has so much information he wants to share, but microscopic detail clouds out context by the halfway point, making this a chore to get through.

[Hugo Rios-Cordero · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent, fascinating and soothingly disturbing portrait of art and industry.

[Todd Stockslager · Rating 4 out of 5]

nteresting insight into where movies came from when movies mattered. The studio system was an outgrowth of the vertical integration of movie companies and theaters, which demanded a steady, reliable stream of product. The term product itself is instructive, reflecting as it does the assembly-line quality of the movie business. The original producers were just that: mid-level managers responsible for the output of the movie factory.

The goal was to standardize and regulate production to keep the features and b-movies rolling out one a week every week, and to keep costs "below the line" (part of the standard studio overhead). Only the lead actors, sometimes but not always the director, and non-reusable sets were "above the line."

The results, argues Schatz, were often very good, despite the negative image of the studio system. Also surprising was the degree to which the censorship of the Hays code altered scripts and movies. Not just on-screen sex and violence were banned, but plots and characters were changed to fit the standard morals and punishment-for-wrongdoing mores dictated by the Code.

The studio system was finally done in after World War II by court-enforced vertical disintegration, television, and stars and directors whose names (and agents) became bigger than the studios.

[Hunter · Rating 5 out of 5]

he had no footnotes though, 4.8 stars but it rounds up to 5

[Jackie Hwang · Rating 4 out of 5]

good balance between a matter-of-fact description of the Hollywood studio system that existed from 1920-1950s and passionate ode to cinema with all of its creative attributes (the practical methods behind film-making), rises and falls, large figures and characters, and love for the art. Also similar to Thomson's book, a bit of social + economic history is also intertwined, allowing the reader to learn about how social and economic forces shaped the film industry (and vice versa). Perhaps the biggest takeaway from learning about the production and management system of the studio era was the "magic" that it takes away from film-making (for me); it gives you more of an in-depth look into the nitty-gritty practical requirements (gargantuan) and the management decisions.

//interesting also I am starting "Easy Riders, Raging Bulls" right after this so it picksup in 1960s/1970s Hollywood so basically where this book left off :) good timing!

Its interesting because unlike other "traditional" industries, Schatz also shares how film has a responsibility for balancing commerce AND creativity, and often times when these worlds collide actors involved pull forces (or want to pull forces) in different directions. Seems like in the studio era, which is also film-making at its nascency (so here you have a new and burgeoning industry that is also trying to figure itself out) production was centralized and mechanized (probably like TV today). Studio bosses were the power brokers, leveraging creatives (directors, actors, writers, etc) to execute their vision and allowed them a narrow role in an assembly line of production. While this may seem unromantic when considering the giant creatives and auteur director structures we have today, it did allow for efficiency and productivity and nurtured some of the most talented film-makers during Hollywood's Golden Age.

I'm astounded by the creative brilliance, instinct, and wilingness to gamble on big decisions, + talent and obsession, and belief in themselves of Schatz's (probably quite accurate) descriptions of Thalberg + Selznick. Thalberg basically built MGM from the ground up and supervised so many projects, handled so many stakeholders (and ones with huge stakes and egos), balanced creative forces and practical actions. No wonder Fitzgerland dubs Thalberg Hollywood's last tycoon. This is my 4th film-related book and repeatedly it seems like this industry consists of big gambles, unwavering beliefs, and an "unstructured" or unsupervised power broker system. At the time, it seemed like success hinged on a film-makers alignment with the studio systems vision (+ talent)

Props to Schatz for the immense research of going through corporate documents, conversations, social analyses of the times, to put this book together. His level of detail to "small" decisions can be traced to conversations between 2 people at a specific point in time for 1 movie -- amazing

- Seems like the producer used to pay a larger role from inception to finished product, while the director was purely brought in during production
- I found the parts about various writing forms (screenwriting vs newspaper, narrative form, exposition, comedy, darkness, character-building) a really interesting analysis--especially as it was something I never considered before
- Schatz talks a lot about the balance of creative expression (directors, producters) vs creative control (the studio)
- Unit production systems seem to provide a stable source of resources for film-makig even though they are bound by industry constraints. It also cultivates familiarity (working with the same colleagues)
- Also interesting to learn that many of the studios had their own distinctive "style": grand "prestige" productions by MGM, low budget/horror at Universal, dark/action-driven plots at Warners
- WWII was a boon to film-making due to government support (also requirements to produce war-supporting material) + increase in income/discretionary spending for civilians -> movie theaters. Post WWII, soldiers return -> marriages skyrocketing + baby boomers -> move to suburbs and less film-going
- style x cost x cinematography - how do we use the camera to tell the story? but movie the camera setup is time + money

[Christine B. · Rating 3 out of 5]

A fascinating but somewhat disjointed analysis of the way film studios worked during Hollywood's Golden Age. The author clearly understands the nuts and bolts of the "system" he describes, but his intended thesis: that the timeless Hollywood classics we love could only have been created within the structured environment of the old studio system, is never really proved or even much argued except at the beginning and the end of the book.

What's in between is a chronological history of several major studios from the 1920s through the 1950s. The styles and production methods of each studio are covered in detail, with lots of examples. This aspect of the book is engaging, and offers a new way to think about film in general and classic films in particular. But the constant jumping back and forth between accounts of the different studios makes for an uneven narrative, and the writer seems to forget his introductory thesis altogether while lost In the weeds of all the production detail. Also, the writing style is more than a little ponderous, leaning on rote and repetitive transition phrases ("in fact,""still") to an irritating degree that is especially noticeable in the audiobook version.

Even so, I now feel like I know a lot more about old Hollywood, and my watch-list of classic movies has expanded considerably as a result of reading this book.

[Justin · Rating 5 out of 5]

The "genius" of the system. It's all right there in the title. Though not intended as such, it's nevertheless a tidy little summary of the end of humanity, or at the very least, humanism. The paradox of the human condition is that we are too clever for our own good; we are inevitably the authors of our own demise.

For what individual, whatever the spark of his or her genius, can compare with any ruthlessly efficient system that quashes dissent, enforces conformity, and destroys all which obstructs its operational efficiency? Certainly not Erich von Stroheim.

Much of Schatz's book is devoted to valorizing Irving Thalberg who, more than any other person, was responsible for the creation of, and perfecting of, the Hollywood System mentioned in the title. That Thalberg was himself an organizational genius is obvious. But his was the genius of the accountant, the bean counter, the advertiser, and the quartermaster. His was not the visionary creative genius of a von Stroheim, an "art for art's sake" sort of person if ever there was one. The two could not coexist, and the needs of the business forced von Stroheim out.

But that is something to be mourned, not celebrated.

[Christine Sinclair · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book may not be for everyone, but if you are a movie fan(atic) like me, you will love it! It is a comprehensive, well-researched look at the rise and fall of the Hollywood studio system, from 1920 through 1960. The complexities of the film industry (product vs. art) are clarified with specific examples of corporate structure, films and stars from each of the major studios, as well as the "major-minors" and the minors. The many reasons for the decline, ranging from the Depression, World War II, the growing independence of stars, directors and producers, and the Paramount anti-trust decision, to the impact of HUAC, and the advent of television, are all examined in this well-written and definitive summary of The System. Genius!

[Austin Lugo · Rating 4 out of 5]

While well researched and well-told, the entire book is built upon a flawed thesis. It is an assumption which not only shapes the story, but bends the facts themselves to fit into an innaccurate belief system.

This idealogy is built upon the unbending faith that the auteur does not exist. That the director is no more a single feature of a film than any other figure.

While this all sounds nice and intriguing, it is a fundamental misunderstanding of how movies are made, and the role a director, did, does, and continues to play

[Iulia Necșulescu · Rating 4 out of 5]

A good book on the history of the Studio System and the creative producers that helped to build it. Some of the practices are still implemented today, while others vanished with the disintegration of the vertical model. Worthwhile if you want to understand how films were made during that period and want to know more about the differences between the studios and their different approaches to film production during uncertain times.

[Alec · Rating 4 out of 5]

I did not read this cover to cover - my interest in the business side of things is simply not sufficient. But were I someone who bought books, I'd consider buying it as a reference. I really floating through it and reading select chapters. Schatz does make a convincing argument against the auteur theory, although he strays pretty far from his thesis to simply give a broad history of some of the major studios.

[John Kenrick · Rating 5 out of 5]

Magnificent fun

Detailed and extremely enjoyable look at the glory days and eventual decline of the great Hollywood studios. Schatz offers fresh perspectives and backs them up with statistics I have not seen elsewhere -- the result of his passionate and prodigious research. Highly recommended for anyone who wants to better understand what made the studio system tick. Superb.

[Jeremy Pollack · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really fascinating deep detailed dive into the history of early Hollywood studio systems. Rated 5 stars though I'd also note it is most definitely not for everyone! If the idea of a detailed exploration of a complex human-economic system and its adaptation through time doesn't pique your interest, this might not be the book for you. :)

[Jason · Rating 5 out of 5]

Studio by studio look at how MGM, Warners, Universal, and Selznick International established and thrived during the studio system era and how they maintained their output once they lost their grip on the industry and its players. Perfect balance between each studio and presents the info without lingering on any one production or historical event.

[VJ · Rating 3 out of 5]

The book takes us from the dawn of movie production houses such as MGM, Paramount, Warner Brothers through Producers like Selznick to Directors like Hitchcock; actors such as Ingrid Bergman, Cary Grant. It draws upon detailed notes on how the industry has evolved from 1900’s to 1980’s where the story ends.

Fast forward today, it seems the big movie houses are in the same mess - either too much on their plate like Disney or someone like Paramount saddled with debt or just being hit below the belt by Netflix and Amazon Prime.

[Alex · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of the best books I have read about the Hollywood Studio system. It is hard to do a total history of each movie and the style of each studio, but this books come close in painting a picture of what it was like to work in and create the system

[Anna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Highly recommended

This book is for those readers interested in classic Hollywood productions. It does not feature just one studio, but follows several, from high-end MHM to lower end Earners and Universal. I learned a great deal from this book and highly recommend it.

[Phil Atteberry · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an excellent analysis of the film industry during its years of studio dominance, from the late 20’s to the late 1940’s. Many films are discussed along with a lot of historical context. It’s a long and detailed book, but I enjoyed it a lot.

[Gary Erwin · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thought that the book might be a little bit dry when I first get it, but it kept me interested from start to finish. The biggest take-away was the contrasting strategies that the different studios used to find their own unique niches and successes in the studio system of days gone by.

[Sean · Rating 5 out of 5]

A very well researched book that reads like an academic essay about the balance between artistic talent and cost-efficiency in the classic Hollywood era.