Read Online Mumbo Gumbo by Jerrilyn Farmer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jerrilyn Farmer
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Angeles, I have a crush on Hollywood. I enjoy its strange history.
And this particular studio on the low-rent side of Hollywood, ragtag as it appears today and obscure to tourists, has more history than most. Not many folks know that this very lot was the original Warner Bros. movie lot, built in 1919. Although the nine old soundstages have gone through half a dozen owners since that time, it remains one of the oldest production studios in continuous use in this town.
I looked back at our office building, one of several three-story, tan stucco units, and then headed off on my errand, crossing a small parking lot on my way to soundstage 9, which contains the sets for Food Freak, awaiting the next taping. I should have been concentrating on my task, figuring out some way to correct the trouble I’d started, thinking about what I might say to Chef Howie that could possibly fix things. But instead, I was daydreaming. I always am while walkingalong these small, private streets, bewitched by the romantic history of early Hollywood.
In 1914, two brothers in the Warner family started a film distribution company in New York. Their two other brothers, Sam and Jack, came west. It was here, on this very lot, that they produced their first silent serials. Here, I thought, looking at the buildings around me, they had once hired Charlie Chaplin’s brother, Sydney, to star in one of their first features. By 1923, the films that were produced by the brothers became highly respected. Here they shot Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis. All the early stars worked here. Barrymore. Swanson. Rin-Tin-Tin.
I walked down one of the trafficless streets on the lot, shielded from greater and lesser Hollywood, and from reality, and from the twenty-first century by the tall walls. Alone on the lot, I forgot for a moment the glorious southern California spring weather, lost in the studio’s no-less-glorious past. The movies found their voice in 1927, a most important year in film history, I thought, as I passed by the very soundstage where The Jazz Singer, starring Al Jolson, was shot. That first film to have dialogue and music was a stunning hit, and an entire era of talkies followed. This little studio on Sunset produced many of those early musicals, like the hugely popular Gold Diggers of Broadway, in 1929.
On this bright afternoon, I could imagine what it might have been like once upon a time, when dozens of chorus girls in marcel waves and glittery tap shoes hung around these quiet studio streets. Back in ‘29, here, at this very corner I was now passing, a young woman might have caught a smoke, hoping to flirt with someone who could boost her to stardom. Istopped, wondering if it was possible to conjure up such ghosts in the strong sunshine.
But Hollywood’s history is a saga of boom and bust and this particular piece of real estate’s heyday was soon past. By 1933, the Warners moved to large new quarters in Burbank. By World War II, these production facilities in Hollywood were leased to independent producers, just like they are now. Back then, they were home to war-training films and Warner cartoons; the big feature films had moved on.
When I reached soundstage 9, I took a look around. Each immense, dome-roofed soundstage squatted on an entire block and I couldn’t immediately see what I was looking for. I checked down the side street. No Chef Howie mobile home. So I continued walking up the block, recalling the stories of this lot’s past.
As television took over this town, a local station moved in and today KTLA continues broadcasting their morning show and newscasts from here. The station accounts for the two huge white satellite uplink dishes now settled like giant upturned mushroom caps next to one of the newest of the buildings. There’s an eclectic mishmash of entertainment facilities here. It’s the home of L.A.’s number one news radio station. KFWB began life right here, and—no one knows this!—its call letters stand for Keep
And this particular studio on the low-rent side of Hollywood, ragtag as it appears today and obscure to tourists, has more history than most. Not many folks know that this very lot was the original Warner Bros. movie lot, built in 1919. Although the nine old soundstages have gone through half a dozen owners since that time, it remains one of the oldest production studios in continuous use in this town.
I looked back at our office building, one of several three-story, tan stucco units, and then headed off on my errand, crossing a small parking lot on my way to soundstage 9, which contains the sets for Food Freak, awaiting the next taping. I should have been concentrating on my task, figuring out some way to correct the trouble I’d started, thinking about what I might say to Chef Howie that could possibly fix things. But instead, I was daydreaming. I always am while walkingalong these small, private streets, bewitched by the romantic history of early Hollywood.
In 1914, two brothers in the Warner family started a film distribution company in New York. Their two other brothers, Sam and Jack, came west. It was here, on this very lot, that they produced their first silent serials. Here, I thought, looking at the buildings around me, they had once hired Charlie Chaplin’s brother, Sydney, to star in one of their first features. By 1923, the films that were produced by the brothers became highly respected. Here they shot Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis. All the early stars worked here. Barrymore. Swanson. Rin-Tin-Tin.
I walked down one of the trafficless streets on the lot, shielded from greater and lesser Hollywood, and from reality, and from the twenty-first century by the tall walls. Alone on the lot, I forgot for a moment the glorious southern California spring weather, lost in the studio’s no-less-glorious past. The movies found their voice in 1927, a most important year in film history, I thought, as I passed by the very soundstage where The Jazz Singer, starring Al Jolson, was shot. That first film to have dialogue and music was a stunning hit, and an entire era of talkies followed. This little studio on Sunset produced many of those early musicals, like the hugely popular Gold Diggers of Broadway, in 1929.
On this bright afternoon, I could imagine what it might have been like once upon a time, when dozens of chorus girls in marcel waves and glittery tap shoes hung around these quiet studio streets. Back in ‘29, here, at this very corner I was now passing, a young woman might have caught a smoke, hoping to flirt with someone who could boost her to stardom. Istopped, wondering if it was possible to conjure up such ghosts in the strong sunshine.
But Hollywood’s history is a saga of boom and bust and this particular piece of real estate’s heyday was soon past. By 1933, the Warners moved to large new quarters in Burbank. By World War II, these production facilities in Hollywood were leased to independent producers, just like they are now. Back then, they were home to war-training films and Warner cartoons; the big feature films had moved on.
When I reached soundstage 9, I took a look around. Each immense, dome-roofed soundstage squatted on an entire block and I couldn’t immediately see what I was looking for. I checked down the side street. No Chef Howie mobile home. So I continued walking up the block, recalling the stories of this lot’s past.
As television took over this town, a local station moved in and today KTLA continues broadcasting their morning show and newscasts from here. The station accounts for the two huge white satellite uplink dishes now settled like giant upturned mushroom caps next to one of the newest of the buildings. There’s an eclectic mishmash of entertainment facilities here. It’s the home of L.A.’s number one news radio station. KFWB began life right here, and—no one knows this!—its call letters stand for Keep
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