CITY OF ANGELS: On Sunset, part 1 - Introduction

Sunset Boulevard, one of the longest streets in the world, stretches all the way from the Silverlake neighbourhood of Los Angeles to Pacific Palisades.

The section between Laurel Canyon Boulevard and Doheny Drive is known as The Strip. During LA's early days, strip was term used for parcels of land which were not incorporated. In those days, what is now referred to as Sunset Strip - or simply The Strip - was merely a loose connection between Hollywood and Los Angeles.

In its humble beginnings nothing but a horse trail, the Strip, nowadays dubbed the billboard capital of the world, turned into Hollywood's playground in the early 1930s when the legendary nightclub, Trocadero, opened its doors on 8610 Sunset Boulevard on 17 September, 1934.

Then, as again today, the Strip is home to many of Hollywood's most popular hang-outs and eateries. During Hollywood's heyday, one could hear Eartha Kitt perform at Ciro's, wine and dine at La Rue, dance the night away at the Mocambo, or enjoy an evening at Earl Carroll's, who advertised his nightclub with the words, "thru these portals pass the most beautiful girls in the world", referring to the nightly performance of his Vanities. Another legendary haunt - also long gone - was Alla Nazimova's The Garden of Allah. Nazimova, a silent movie actress of Russian origin, launched her hostelry in 1921, turning it into the hub of Hollywood's social life during the 1930s and 40s. A multitude of Hollywood luminaries resided in the hotel's famous bungalows, which were scattered around a large-sized swimming-pool in the shape of the Black Sea.



8024 Sunset Boulevard was the home of Schwab's drugstore - also long gone - suitably located across the street from The Garden of Allah. Sadly, in the 1980s Schwab's was torn down to make room for a shopping mall. But thanks to Billy Wilder, Schwab's has been immortalised in his 1950s classic, Sunset Boulevard. Nazimova's Garden of Allah on the other hand was faced with an equally unfortunate fate, for what used to be the playground of the Bogarts and countless others, has since been converted into a parking lot. In that instance, it was singer Toni Mitchell who immortalised it in her song Big, Yellow Taxi, in which she laments that "where once was a dream there now is a parking lot".



Truth be told, while most buildings on Hollywood Boulevard escaped the march of progress inasmuch as they were merely mutilated, many of the historic buildings on Sunset fell victim to a relentless building boom and were razed for the sake of profit in the guise of shopping malls, parking lots and the like. The Trocadero is gone, and so is the Mocambo. And although the shell of Ciro's is still standing, it only bares a vague resemblance to what it used to be. The same goes for the Preston Sturges-owned The Players. Nonetheless, some of yesteryear's dinosaurs are still standing - and going strong, like the Chateau Marmont or the Argyle Hotel, then called Sunset Towers, and over the years new buildings and cutting-edge clubs and hotels such as The Mondrian, The Standard or The Viper Room have joined existing ones, and together they contribute to the Strip's inherent blend of of the hot, the hip, and the whacky.



To me - and I am aware that I may well be alone in this - one of the most exciting, invigorating things to do when in Los Angeles, is riding on my bicycle, westwards along Sunset Boulevard at - yes, you guessed it: sunset! - in early autumn. The light alone would be enough to make it memorable. But with all those palm trees that are lining both sides of the street, set against the evening, sapphire-blue California sky, those giant bill boards and neons perched high up atop of houses and hotels in addition to Sunset's unique hotchpotch of architecture, and zipping past all those landmarks into the serenity of Beverly Hills - it simply is an unparalleled experience!

>>> Note: This post will be followed up tomorrow with a guided tour along Sunset Boulevard and its historic buildings.

CITY OF ANGELS: Hollywood, part 3 - Sights And Landmarks (cont.)

Note: The following is the continuation of the guided tour through historic Hollywood, which starts at YAMASHIRO'S (see previous post), then goes east along Hollywood Boulevard, and concludes at the HOLLYWOOD TOWERS.


ALTO NIDO APARTMENTS, 1851 N. Ivar Ave.

The Alto Nido is one of many apartment buildings in Hollywood whose architectural style can be best classified as 'theatrical', and as such it very much goes with its surroundings. However, the Alto Nido has the distinction that it was featured in two classic Hollywood films, both of them films noirs, The Blue Dahlia and, of course, Sunset Boulevard, where it is the home of struggling screenwriter Joe Gillis, played by William Holden. In real life, the Alto Nido once was the home of actress Claudette Colbert.



CAPITOL RECORDS BUILDING, 1750 Vine Street, architect: Welton Beckett Ass., 1956

Located just off Hollywood Boulevard, the Capitol Records Building may well be the most famous structure in all of Hollywood. It is meant to resemble a stack of 45rpm records. At the time it was built, it was the world's first circular office building, and it has been unrivalled in dominating the Hollywood skyline since. Among the artists who used the building's recording studio in the basement are Frank Sinatra and The Beatles.



THE KNICKERBOCKER HOTEL, 1714 N. Ivar Street, architect: E.M. Frasier, 1925

Originally built in Spanish Colonial Revival style, The Knickerbocker has since lost some of its erstwhile glamour. Nevertheless, at least it is still standing and has not been mutilated beyond recognition, for some pages of Hollywood history have been written inside its walls - in bold! Not only was The Knickebocker home to some of the biggest names of the day, it was here that drugged up actress Frances Farmer got picked by the LA police wearing nothing but a shower curtain, and dragged off to a mental home. Rumour has it that Marilyn Monroe used to sneak in every now and then to spend some quality time with her future husband, Joe DiMaggio, who had made The Knickerbocker his home. The most tragic story in connection with The Knickerbocker, however, involves once more film pioneer D.W. Griffith, who died here in 1948, all alone, penniless, and virtually forgotten.



HOLLYWOOD & VINE

During Hollywood's golden age, the intersection of Hollywood Boulevard and Vine Street was considered to be the most famous intersection in the world. It certainly must have been one of the busiest! Back then - as again today - the better part of Hollywood's major haunts such as Sardi's (in a building designed by Rudolf Schindler), The Brown Derby (now a parking lot), Clara Bow's It Club (in the Plaza Hotel), and the Ontra Cafe, were all conveniently located in close proximity. Nowadays, the famous art-deco clock outside the Equitable Building is the only remainder of the intersection's heyday, although there's hope that the revival of Hollywood Boulevard's will eventually rub off on Hollywood and Vine as well.



THE HOLLYWOOD PLAYHOUSE, 1735 N. Vine Street, architect: Gogerty & Weyl, 1927

Now known as The Palace, like most other historic buildings the Hollywood Playhouse, too, has gone through quite a few changes in its eighty year history. At first, this Spanish Colonial Revival building operated as a legitimate theatre, showing plays and acts that starred Fanny Brice and, later, Lucille Ball. During the 1940s it changed its name to El Capitan (while the El Capitan functioned as The Paramount), though still running as a live performance theatre. Later, with the advent of television, several TV shows were broadcast from here. It was during the 1960s that it finally changed its name to The Palace, operating as a venue for live music as well as for live TV shows when ABC broadcast its show, named The Palace, from here.



THE PLAZA HOTEL, 1633-37 N. Vine Street, architect: Walker & Eisen, 1927

Also built in 1927, together with The Christie, The Roosevelt and The Knickerbocker, it was one of several swanky hotels scattered around Hollywood Boulevard. It was the first home of Bette Davis after her arrival from New York in 1930. The Plaza's most famous feature was the It Club, owned by Clara Bow. The It Club opened its doors in 1937 and became an instant hit with the Hollywood crowd, conveniently located as it was across the road from The Brown Derby.



WASHINGTON MUTUAL BANK, 1500 N. Vine Street

Located between Selma Street and Sunset Boulevard, this is the original site of the DeMille barn, where Hollywood's first feature film was shot in 1913. A mural on the facade pays homage to the site's erstwhile occupiers as it depicts various scenes from The Squaw Man.



HOLLYWOOD HIGH SCHOOL, 1521 N. Highland Ave. architect: Marsh, Smith & Powell, 1933

Originally built in 1904, it is one of the oldest high schools in Los Angeles. However, the building was almost completely remodelled in 1933. At the time it first opened, the school was surrounded by fields and groves and some of the students arrived by horse or carriage. Over the years, several former pupils have turned into stars - Lana Turner, Jason Robards, Fay Wray - and inside Hollywood High there is a small museum dedicated to their famous alumni with some of their memorabilia on display.



THE PANTAGES, 6233 Hollywood Boulevard, architect: B. Marcus Priteca, 1930

This fabulous art-deco gem opened in 1930 with the premiere of the Al Jolson/ Marion Davies starrer Floradora Girl. By the time of its opening, it was Hollywood's biggest movie palace, with a capacity of 2,815 people. The Pantages was the site of the Academy Awards between 1949 and 1959, though today, with its matchless interior restored, it operates as a musical theatre.



VILLA CARLOTTA APARTMENTS, 5959 Franklin Ave., architect: Arthur E. Harvey, 1926

Perhaps the most beautiful of all of Hollywood's historic apartment buildings, the Villa Carlotta was initially intended to become a hotel. Although its style is said to be Spanish Colonial Revival, its architecture - particularly its entrance - reminds me as much of Italy as it does of Spain. While the above photo dates back to the days when it was built, the Villa Carlotta has remained virtually untouched and it still looks like this today. George Cukor, Edward G. Robinson, and Adolphe Menjou all allegedly lived here at one stage during their career.



DOUBLE INDEMNITY HOUSE, 6301 Quebec Drive

I somehow found out about the location of the house that stands in as Phyllis Dietrichson's home in Double Indemnity. With Billy Wilder's film noir masterpiece being one of my favourite films, I went to the trouble and schlepped all the way up into the Hollywood Hills - by bicycle! - where the house is located. To my utter surprise, the house still looks exactly as it does in the film, in which Walter Neff describes it as "one of those California Spanish houses everyone was nuts about ten or fifteen years ago. This one must have cost somebody around $30,000 ... That is, if he ever finished paying for it ...", a description which is classic Chandler who wrote the screenplay in conjunction with Wilder himself.



HOLLYWOOD TOWERS, 6200 Franklin Ave.

Another - and the last on the Hollywood part of this tour - example of the many swish apartments blocks that went up during Hollywood's boom years. This impressive, chateau-like structure was initially known as La Belle Tour, before receiving the no-frills name under which it is known today.

Note: the next instalment in the series CITY OF ANGELS is a guided tour along Sunset Boulevard, called ON SUNSET. Watch out for Film-Daily's next post!

CITY OF ANGELS: Hollywood, part 2 - Sights And Landmarks

Note: The following is a guided tour through historic Hollywood, which starts at YAMASHIRO'S, then going east along Hollywood Boulevard, and concludes at the HOLLYWOOD TOWERS.


YAMASHIRO'S, 1999 N. Sycamore Ave.

Originally built as a Japanese-style home for Eugene and Adolphe Bernheimer, two brothers from New York settling in Hollywood in 1908, it has since been turned into a Japanese restaurant. While the food at Yamashiro's (which is Japanese for house on the hill) is admittedly excellent, the main reason to come here is for its spectacular location. Perched high up in the Hollywood Hills, it affords stunning views of Los Angeles stretching out below all the way to the Pacific Ocean.


THE MAGIC CASTLE, 7001 Franklin Ave.

Built in 1909 as a private residence for banker Rollin Lane who lived here until 1931, when the mansion was sole to actress Janet Gaynor. One of Hollywood's oldest existing building, it is genuine remnant of the dawn of tinseltown. In 1963, it was purchased by the Academy of Magical Arts, and it has since become a gathering for magicians and their followers from all around the world.


VILLA BONITA APARTMENTS, 1817 Hillcrest Drive

One of several apartment buildings with fancy names dating back to Hollywood's golden age. However, because of its gothic feel due, mainly, to its ivy clad walls, Villa Bonita, in my opinion, is one of the prettiest.


HIGH TOWER, 2178 Hightower Drive

High up, tucked away in the hills above Hollywood is where Raymond Chandler's alter ego, Philip Marlowe, is supposed to have lived, and it has been assumed that Chandler saw his hero living in one of the apartments connected to the High Tower. In fact, Robert Altman used it as Marlowe's home in his version of Chandler's The Long Goodbye, widely considered to be his best and most mature book. Resembling a campanile, an elevator inside the High Tower which works only by key, brings the lucky hill-top residents up to their homes and apartments.


THE NIRVANA, 1775 N. Orange Drive, Architect: E.M. Erdaly, 1925

The Nirvana also is intrinsically linked to the history of Hollywood. Built in 1925, it is located just across the street from the American Society of Cinematographers. With its mock-pagoda style, The Nirvana is another example of Hollywood's penchant - then as now - towards the fancy and the exotic.


GRAUMAN'S CHINESE THEATRE, 6925 Hollywood Boulevard, Architect: C.E. Toberman, 1927

Built by C.E. Toberman for showman Sid Grauman, Grauman's Chinese is doubtless one of the most famous and probably also one of the plushest cinemas in the world. Many of the blobkbusters - although that word had not yet come into existence - of the time had their premiere here, among them DeMille's religious 1927-extravaganza, King of Kings. Equally famous as the theatre are the foot and handprints of movie stars, located in the theatre's front yard. Like most of Hollywood's historic places, Grauman's, too, changed hands several times and consequently hasn't entirely remained unaltered over the course of its eighty year old history. Having recently undergone yet another costly and extensive renovation, much of the theatre's original splendour has been adequately restored.


THE ROOSEVELT HOTEL, 7000 Hollywood Boulevard, architect: C.E. Toberman, 1927

Named after Theodore Roosevelt, the 26th president of the United States and a relative of Franklin Delano, this legendary hostelry was originally owned by Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks and Louis B. Mayer. It is one of Hollywood's most important buildings and landmarks. Not only is The Roosevelt an excellent example of the Spanish Colonial Revival architecture, so prevalent at the time of its inauguration, it was also here, in the Blossom Room of The Roosevelt that the first Academy Award ceremony was held on 16 May, 1929. A few years ago, The Roosevelt has had a major facelift, including its famous swimming pool, which in the 1950s was painted by British artist David Hockney.


MASONIC TEMPLE, 6840 Hollywood Boulevard, architect: Austin, Field & Frey, 1921

Austin, Field & Frey, who also designed LA's city hall and the Griffith Observatory, were given the assignment to build a Masonic Temple large enough to accommodate the rising number of Freemasons in early Hollywood. Today, the Neo-Classical Revival Temple is a registered landmark, used as a venue for concerts and receptions. In 1948, the funeral ceremony for the great director and film pioneer David Wark Griffith was held here.


EL CAPITAN THEATRE, 6834-38 Hollywood Boulevard, architect: Albert Lansburgh, 1926

The El Capitan opened as a stage theatre before being converted into a cinema in 1942, operating under the name Paramount. While it was still used as a legitimate theatre, the German theatre director Leopold Jessner, who, among many others, had fled Nazi Germany by emigrating to Los Angeles, staged a production of Schiller's Wilhelm Tell at the El Capitan. Financed by William and Charlotte Dieterle in order to give emigre actors a chance to work, the play was staged in English and turned out to be a colossal flop, allegedly due to the actors' limited command of their acquired language which resulted in what contemporary critics called an accent mess . Besides being an exceptionally beautiful building and its prime location on Hollywood Boulevard just opposite Grauman's, one of the many claims to fame of the El Capitan's is, for instance, the fact that the film which many believe to be the best American film ever made, Citizen Kane, had its premiere here. The El Capitan was purchased by the Disney Group in 1984, which subsequently restored it and reopened it in 1988.


HOLLYWOOD & HIGHLAND BUILDING/ KODAK THEATRE, 6801 Hollywood Boulevard, architect: Ehrenkrantz, Eckstut & Kuhn

Formerly the site of the legendary Hollywood Hotel which, built in 1903, was torn down in 1956, it is now a huge, sprawling shopping mall that also houses the Kodak Theatre, Oscar's first permanent home. A lot of money has gone into this controversial project, whose design might not be to everyone's liking. However, it is nevertheless an indicator of Hollywood's comeback as it encouraged other investors that Hollywood Boulevard has ceased to be the scruffy dive it had been for so many years. As a reference to Hollywood's rich and irretrievably lost past, the architecture includes replicas of D.W. Griffith's Babylonian set for his film Intolerance, which was shot just two miles east on the intersection of Sunset and Hollywood Boulevards. This fact, however, may be lost on the casual visitor who, unless they are familiar with Griffith's epochal film, are more likely to be startled by the fake elephants and references to ancient Egypt.


FIRST NATIONAL BUILDING, 6777 Hollywood Boulevard, architect: Meyer & Holler, 1927

Dominating Hollywood Boulevard with its gothic art-deco structure, for a brief period the First National was LA's tallest building until the construction of the city hall in 1928.


MAX FACTOR BUILDING, 1666 N. Highland Ave., architect: S. Charles Lee, 1934

Max Factor was the make-up artist to the stars during Hollywood's heyday. It was here, in this art-deco gem which operated on three floors, that the Max Factor clientele was attended to in special rooms assigned to different types of customers - blondes, brunettes, and red heads, with each room decorated accordingly. Today, the building, which is also listed as a Historical and Cultural Monument, has been bought by a private sponsor and is now home to the Hollywood History Museum, its highlight being Roddy Macdowell's powder room - such as it was!


LASKY & DEMILLE BARN, 2100 Highland Ave.

When Cecil B. DeMille and Jesse Lasky came out to Hollywood to turn the well known stage play, The Squaw Man, into a feature length film, they found this abandoned barn on the corner of Selma and Vine Streets, and deeming it ideal for their purposes, rented it from its owner, Jacob Stern, a German immigrant. One and two reelers, which had a length of about ten minutes and twenty minutes respectively, were still the order of the day. And even though Adolph Zukor, who at the time still operated from New York, had already started to turn stage plays into feature length films, DeMille's and Lasky's undertaking was a first in Hollywood. Today, the barn is listed as Historical Landmark and is owned by the Hollywood Heritage Organisation. After having been moved to its permanent location across from the Hollywood Bowl, it is now a museum that documents the history of early film making in Hollywood.


HOLLYWOOD BOWL, 3201 Highland Ave., architect: Hodgetts & Fung, 2004 (inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright Jr.'s shell, 1928)

One of Hollywood's most famous landmarks, the first shell was built in 1926 by Allied Architects. As it was only meant to be provisional, two shells followed, both built in two consecutive years, and both were designed by Frank Lloyd Wright Jr. Since acoustics and general construction were still not up to the mark, yet another shell was erected the following year, 1929, this time again built by Allied Architects who in turn took their cue from Lloyd Wright Jr's design of the year before. This shell lasted until recently, when construction of a new shell began and was completed in 2004. The architects, Hodgetts & Fung, again based their design on Frank Lloyd Wright Jr.'s shell of 1928. Leopold Stokowski was the Bowl's first Music Director, and when after his emigration to the US, the German conductor Otto Klemperer became the LA Philharmonic's Music Director, he frequently performed at the Bowl. One of the most memorable events in the history of the Hollywood Bowl was in 1935, when Max Reinhardt staged a production of Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, starring Olivia de Havilland, James Cagney, Joe E. Brown, and Mickey Rooney.


JOHN ANSON FORD THEATRE, 2580 Cahuenga Boulevard

Formerly known as the Pilgrimage Play Theatre, this relatively small, intimate venue, meant to resemble old Jerusalem, is renowned for its Shakespeare productions. However, in 1938, Max Reinhardt, who had settled in Hollywood a few years earlier to escape Nazi Germany, directed a successful production of Goethe's Urfaust here.


EGYPTIAN THEATRE, 6712 Hollywood Boulevard, architect: C.E. Toberman, 1922

Sid Grauman's first theatre was inspired by the Egyptian craze, triggered by Howard Carter's discovery of the tomb of King Tutankhamen. The site of Hollywood's first large scale movie premiere, Robin Hood in 1922, at the time of its opening the Egyptian Theatre had guards and ushers sporting ancient Egyptian costumes. The Egyptian changed ownership several times, and at one time belonged to Mike Todd, who besides being Liz Taylor's third husband, was also a tremendous showman and entrepreneur, allegedly installing an extra wide screen for the premiere for his larger than life extravaganza, Around The World in 80 Days. After severe damage caused by the 1994 Northridge earthquake, it was bought by the American Cinematheque, a non-profit organisation, which did a beautiful job in restoring it to its former splendour by trying to save as much of its original features as possible. Having made it their mission to offer more than the standard fare of films, the American Cinematheque frequently organises retrospectives dedicated to individual film makers as well as to film movements in American cinema.


MUSSO & FRANK, 6663-67 Hollywood Boulevard

Hollywood's oldest existing and arguably its most famous eaterie opened in 1919, and neither its interior nor its menu have changed much since. With its cosy atmosphere, its legendary booths, and its, what I choose to call, film noir interior, Musso & Frank managed to preserve its charm, and so it is as much of a hang-out for Hollywood luminaries today as it was then.


FONTENOY APARTMENTS, 1811 N. Whitley Avenue, architect: L.A. Bryant, 1928

Like so many others, this impressive, also a wee bit gothic looking apartment building went up during the boom years of the 1920s in order to accommodate the large number of hopefuls that flocked to Hollywood during its golden age.


WHITLEY HEIGHTS, top of N. Whitley Ave.

The brainchild of Canadian born H.J. Whitley, who had set his mind on recreating a typical Italian hillside retreat, Whitley made his fortune in fine jewellery before purchasing a large parcel of land north of Hollywood Boulevard and subsequently turned it into the first Beverly Hills. Whitley went to great lengths in order to achieve authenticity, including sending his architects to Italy to do research on villas, houses and landscaping. Bette Davis, Jean Harlow, Richard Barthelmes, Rudolph Valentino, Marie Dressler, Gloria Swanson, William Faulkner and Maurice Chevalier, at one stage all lived in this peaceful, beautiful, tucked away community which Greta Garbo once likened to a film set. Parts of Whitley Heights were destroyed in 1947 to make way for the Hollywood Freeway, razing the former homes of Bette Davis and Rudolph Valentino, among many others. Whitley Heights has since been listed in the National Register of Historic Places and is thus protected from further development.


WARNER PACIFIC THEATRE, 6423-45 Hollywood Boulevard, architect: Albert Landsburgh, 1928

This sprawling Italian Renaissance Revival building was meant to become the showcase of the Warner Bros. theatre chain, and being one of the first cinemas equipped to show talkies, the much anticipated premiere of The Jazz Singer was supposed to take place here. However, by the time The Jazz Singer was ready to be released, the Pacific was still under construction, which is why the Jazz Singer's premiere was held in New York instead where Warner's had a movie palace equal to the Pacific. In its heyday, the Pacific was one of several dramatic movie theatres that lined Hollywood Boulevard, others included the Egyptian, the Pantages, Grauman's Chinese and the El Capitan. With its capacity of 2,700 seats, for a short period of time the Pacific was also the largest until the Pantages opened its doors in 1930. Unfortunately, today the Pacific is no longer in operation, which means that its breathtakingly beautiful interior - a continuation of its mock Italian Renaissance facade - is not accessible to the public.


CAHUENGA BUILDING, 6381-85 Hollywood Boulevard, architect: John & Donald Parkinson, 1921

Cahuenga Building - this is how Raymond Chandler dubbed this office block, which in reality is the Security Trust and Savings building, in his novels, in which Philip Marlowe has his quarters on the building's sixth floor. To use Chandler's own words from his novel The High Window: "I had an office in the Cahuenga Building, sixth floor, two small rooms at the back. One I left open for a patient client to sit in, if I had a patient client. There was a buzzer at the door which I could switch on and off from my private thinking parlour". The building stands at the north-east corner of Cahuenga Avenue and Hollywood Boulevard. Today, the square next to it has been renamed Raymond Chandler in honour of LA's most famous chronicler.

>>> Note: This guided tour through historic Hollywood will continue in my next post!

CITY OF ANGELS: Hollywood, part 1 - Introduction

Hollywood Boulevard in the 1930s

Due to the fact that American culture, notably film, have permeated even the remotest corners of our planet, Hollywood has become a household name, now synonymous with anything from celebrity to plastic surgery.

Yet, the Hollywood I came to know - and love - couldn't be more different!

Everything in life is subject to one's own perception. And so all I tend to see when cruising through Hollywood on my bicycle are a gathering of Spanish Colonial houses, many of which have miraculously escaped the march of progress, embedded in lush, subtropical greenery, through which the pivotally located Hollywood Boulevard cuts like a lifeline, providing its surrounding areas with its own iconoclastic blend of culture, subculture, clubs, watering holes and eateries, some of which dating back to Hollywood's golden age. Besides being Hollywood's heartbeat, Hollywood Boulevard is most of all a treasure trove for anyone interested in classic Hollywood as it is lined with historic buildings, many of which are connected to the history of Hollywood itself and, of course, to the history of American cinema. Quite aptly, Hollywood Boulevard is also home to what is, perhaps, the best book store in the world, Larry Edmunds, whose expert staff put every film historian to shame.

Who could have foreseen, given Hollywood's humble beginnings, that it would one day turn into the most illustrious community in the world?

Bearing in mind that when Harvey and Daeida Wilcox from Topeka/ Kansas founded Hollywood roughly 125 years ago, meaning to create a genteel, bible-quoting suburb of Los Angeles, looking at all the - although not always obvious - beauty that surrounds you in Hollywood, one could almost be led to believe that the Wilcoxes succeeded in their intention.

The pious couple was bound for Los Angeles, where they arrived in 1883, settling north of downtown for a few years. They did quite well for themselves, making a considerable amount of money in real estate, much of it due to the opening of the Santa Fe Railway line in 1885, which led to a massive land boom. That same year Daeida and Harvey decided to buy a patch of land in the Cahuenga Valley, Cahuenga being the native name for what became Hollywood. They built a farm there which they called Hollywood, a name Daeida overheard a fellow-traveller using while riding on a train. The Wilcoxes intended to create a Christian community, however, it gradually turned into an artists colony. To counteract the fast and loose attitude of Los Angeles, alcohol and any kind of gambling were anathema in Hollywood, an approach that was very much in keeping with the Wilcoxes idea of the Christian utopia they founded Hollywood for in the first place. Churches sprang up, houses and streets were built, a library, and gradually a modest town began to take shape with Prospect Avenue - now called Hollywood Boulevard - at its centre.

Hollywood's subtropical vegetation and Mediterranean feel struck a chord with French artist Paul de Longpre, who settled there in the 1890s, erecting a spectacular mansion encircled by a luxuriant garden which soon became a tourist attraction. In 1891, Harvey Wilcox died. Two years later, Daeida remarried, becoming the wife of Philo Beveridge, the son of Illinois governor John Beveridge.

The introduction of the electric streetcars made access to Hollywood's neighbouring communities easier, conveniently connecting the thriving hillside village with downtown Los Angeles as well as Santa Monica. To accomdate the increasing number of tourists, the Hollywood Hotel was built in 1903, the year Daeida pushed for Hollywood's incorporation as a city, only to be annexed to the City of Los Angeles a mere 7 years later. Water shortage having become s serious problem for the swiftly expanding colony, and the annexation enabled Hollywood to be entitled to its share of LA's water supply.

In 1903, Hollywood was a thriving Los Angeles suburb, boasting 700 inhabitants. Its reputation as a tranquil garden community grew steadily and began to attract wealthy business men and investors from all pockets of the country. One of them was C.E. Toberman, who arrived in 1907 and turned into one of Hollywood's most influential developers, instrumental in transforming Hollywood into the bustling, glamorous, town it eventually became.

It was also in 1907 that the first film folk set up shop in nearby Edendale, now Glendale, and when the New-Jersey based Nestor Company arrived in 1907, Hollywood' quiet, halcyon were numbered. Other film companies followed suit, all of them escaping Edison's waning Trust, or they were simply tired of being harnessed by the East Coast's poor weather conditions. Then, in 1913, Cecil B. DeMille and Jesse Lasky arrived in town to make what would become the first feature length film shot in Hollywood, The Squaw Man. Lasky and DeMille rented a barn on the corner of Selma and Vine Streets and subsequently turned it into a modest film studio.

It was clear that films were here to stay.

Yet, there still was scant evidence that the still relatively peaceful hamlet was going to become the universal film capital.An air of untamed provincialism still prevailed, as wrote DeMille's niece, Agnes, who came west with her father, William, who worked as his brother's scenarist: "The scenery was unrefreshing for an easterner. Geraniums hung unnaturally out of palm branches. Magenta bougainvillea matted the shingles and waved shoots and tendrils over the rooftops, struggling in suffocating embrace with the Cherokee roses ... the main thoroughfare, now Hollywood Boulevard, was a shambling, drowsy street of box stores and shingled houses under the dusty crackling palm and pepper trees. The stores had been thrown together in a week, but the houses were substantial, built by citizens of the Middle West who had come to the coast to die at ease in the sun".

However, with the arrival of film, Hollywood's landscape changed rapidly. Having had 7500 inhabitants in 1914, the number had swollen to 36000 by 1920. A building boom ensued which lasted until the early 1930s when the Great Depression put and end to it, and the better part of Hollywood's landmark buildings were erected during that time. To accommodate the growing number of hopefuls and film makers apartment buildings and hotels shot up; film theatres were built; Hollywood exploded, boomed, and with it its surrounding neighbourhoods. Actors become a common sight on Hollywood's streets, but they were nevertheless regarded with distrust in the still pious community. A sign outside the Hollywood Hotel read, "No Dogs, No Actors".

In 1918, Canadian born H.J. Whitley purchased a parcel of land north of Franklin Avenue, with the intention to convert it into an elegant, lavish enclave modelled on an Italian hillside village. As such, it was apt to attract its share of Hollywood's ever increasing share of film's most conspicuous by-product - movie stars. Whitley's dream became reality and Whitley Heights was born. Soon everybody who was anybody flocked to what quickly was dubbed "the first Beverly Hills", the birth of the latter was marked by the opening of the Beverly Hills Hotel in 1912. However, it would take another decade until Beverly Hills would turn into the ritzy community that it is today. The exodus westwards to its arguably more elegant neighbour didn't start until 1922, when Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford erected a regal mansion on Summit Drive, high up in Beverly Hills overlooking all of Los Angeles, calling it Pickfair.

During the 1930s, the steady influx of people continued, all hoping to rise to fame and follow the footsteps of Mary Pickford, Lilian Gish or Gloria Swanson. Thus Hollywood expanded and flourished unabatedly, the storms of the Great Depression notwithstanding. Hollywood in the 1920s and 30s was boom town, with Hollywood Boulevard its bustling centre where stars wined and dined in luxurious restaurants, and the klieg lights, brushing the nightly sky above Grauman's Theatre announcing a premiere starring the latest face in town, and where recent arrivals and new-comers descended in swanky hotels and apartments buildings sporting fancy names like Villa Carlotta, The Chateau Elysee, The Plaza, or The Roosevelt. Hollywood became synonymous with the proverbial American dream, attainable by anyone who longed for it.

Or so it seemed.

The chase of this American dream has been memorably put to paper by Nathaniel West, who until his untimely death in 1940 worked as a screenwriter in Hollywood, his grim, sardonic, The Day of the Locust telling the tale of a dime-a-dance girl whose high hopes of stardom are shattered by the brutal, harsh realities of tinseltown. West's dark, apocalyptic view of Hollywood is a reflection of his own experiences in a place where talent only gets you so far, and where connections and a burning ambition, not to mention luck, usually make the balance tip.

1939, the year Douglas Fairbanks died, is considered to be Hollywood's apogee. The quality of films reached unknown heights and more films of distinction were produced that year than in any other before or since: Gone With the Wind, Ninotchka, Stagecoach, Wuthering Heights, Dark Victory, Only Angels have Wings, Goodbye Mr. Chips and, of course, The Wizard of Oz, were all released in 1939.

In addition to the seemingly endless stream of Americans who arrived in Southern California with the, more often than not, vain hope to make it in pictures there also was a growing number of immigrants arriving in Hollywood who had escaped fascist Europe. Film historian Jan-Christopher Horak wrote that between 1933 and 1952 approximately 1.500 emigres, most of them of German, Austrian or Hungarian origin, arrived in Hollywood, many of them barely eking out a living.

Cinema attendance was high during the war years, but after having reached a peak in 1946, with the onset of television the year after it started dropping alarmingly, spelling the end of Hollywood's golden age. The demise of the studio system was accelerated by the HUAC hearings, casting an additional shadow over Hollywood's manicured lawns. Finally, the government Consent Decree of 1950, which forced the studios to divest themselves of their theatre chains was the death knell of the studio era, the definitive end of which was symbolised by Louis B. Mayer's departure from MGM in 1951.

However, that Hollywood was beginning to lose its lustre didn't deter hopefuls from all over from flocking to Southern California. For instance, thousands of service men had passed through Hollywood during the war, got stuck, and made Hollywood - or its surrounds - their new home. As a result of the swelling population, Hollywood including its neighbouring communities, continued to explode, new neighbourhoods emerged, and subsequently new ways - literally - and solutions had to be found to accommodate the many people who came here to make Southern California their new home.
And so it was almost inevitable that Hollywood shouldn't escape the march of progress with one of the most flagrant downsides being the increasing number of cars. With Hollywood constantly extending and stretching out into the valley and beyond, cars had become the primary means of transportation, gradually replacing streetcars, as they made access to Hollywood newly established neighbourhoods easier and quicker. Hence it is fair to say that the car industry is the main culprit why parts of historic Hollywood got destroyed to make way for either freeways or, worse yet, parking lots. For instance, by the late 1940s whole sections of Whitley Heights were razed to make way for the Hollywood Freeway, connecting Hollywood and Los Angeles with the San Fernando Valley. Opened in 1954, it snakes through the Cahuenga Pass, where once stood the homes of Rudolph Valentino and Bette Davis.

Sadly, some other buildings linked to Hollywood's past have also been demolished, such as, for instance, the Garden Court Apartments on Hollywood Boulevard, once home to Louis B, Mayer, or the Brown Derby on Vine Street, which was turned into a parking lot, while other buildings have been mutilated beyond recognition. Clearly, the ravages of time have left their mark on Hollywood, yet a great deal of its great past is still in evidence today. Thus, in spite of all the changes Hollywood has undergone, a stroll along Hollywood Boulevard and its surrounds is indispensable for every self-respecting lover of American film and culture as it not only allows you catch a glimpse of what Hollywood was like some 70 years ago, but its architectural mix is like nowhere else in the world: after all, where else does one get to see buildings as outlandish and indeed theatrical as Grauman's Chinese Theatre, Graunman's Egyptian or the El Capitan next to a gothic-style edifice like the First National Bank which in turn is just across the street from the Spanish Colonial Revival Toberman Building which stands next to an art-deco gem like the Max-Factor Building?


Hollywood Boulevard today

Perhaps not surprisingly given the political circumstances, during the 1960s and 70s it seemed as if America was almost ashamed of Hollywood or else didn't take it seriously. It sat there, neglected, a victim of its own, prosperous and glamorous, past. However, a lot has happened over the past 10 years, and it appears that Hollywood has finally awakened to its own precious and unique history, a history which deserves to be preserved and made accessible to the world at large. The Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, the organisation in charge of the Walk of Fame - which itself was invented in an effort to re-invoke Hollywood's lost past - came up with the long overdue idea of putting sign posts all throughout Hollywood that explain the history of each site or building in detail. It is therefore a relief to notice that Hollywood has, what one could call a second coming and that instead of denying its past, Hollywood is at long last taking pride in it, evidently making an effort to protect and preserve it. In addition to the extensive restoration work going on all along Hollywood Boulevard, all buildings and venues of historic interest are now listed in the City's Register of Historical Cultural Monuments. The preservation also extends to neighbourhoods, and little gems like Whitley Heights are now preserved from further development.


>>> Note: This post will be followed up tomorrow with a guided tour through historic Hollywood, including pictures and explanations of all buildings and venues of note related to Hollywood history.

The Ghost, Roman Polanski, France, Germany, UK, 2009

Having always been an admirer of Polanski's work - albeit mainly for his earlier films - I admit that it's been a while since I looked forward to seeing a film with so much expectation and anticipation. The Ghost had its world premiere at this year's Berlin Film-Festival where it got mixed reviews. Although it must be added, that the good ones came mainly from Europe while the not-so-good or downright bad ones came from the other side of the Atlantic. I vividly recall reading a particularly negative one in Variety which appeared the day after the film's opening. Now that I've seen the film, the clear division of the two camps - US vs. Europe - seems to make sense inasmuch as the US fares relatively badly in it. This, of course, also throws an interesting light on the charges brought against Polanksi by the US court which, seen against The Ghost's plot, might be read as an act of revenge.

I don't want to employ the overused term masterpiece , but I must say that as far as political thrillers go, The Ghost is definitely up there with the best of them. However, there are indeed echoes of Polanksi's undisputed masterpiece - Chinatown - especially with regards to the ending. And not only because The Ghost also has a bad, in fact a very bleak, almost cynical, ending. More importantly, it's the feeling of powerlessness, of being at the complete mercy of an invisible power that does and runs things at will, and that who ever or whatever stands in its way, will be eliminated, that brings to mind Chinatown.

Ewan McGregor in his office in the former prime minister's Long Island Mansion

Another element that reminded me of Chinatown is the pacing. During the first 15 minutes or so, I actually thought the film felt rushed and wished Polanski and his screenwriter Robert Harris, on whose book The Ghost is based, would have taken more time to introduce the characters and let the story unfold - slowly. But then after a while, The Ghost settles at a very appropriate pace, takes its time to follow its protagonists around the house - where the better part of the story takes place - and over the course of the story its pristine, luxurious, interior begins to reveal its coldness and the viewer perceives the house more and more as a threat. Much like Bates Motel in Psycho, so Pierce Brosnan's and Olivia Williams' Long Island mansion - actually, The Ghost was entirely filmed on the island of Sylt, but you'd never guess it unless you know - also becomes an integral part of the story as it can be seen as a metaphor for the coldness of its inhabitants, Pierce Brosnan and Olivia Williams. Both seem completely disconnected from their surroundings, walking through their house like ghosts, and the viewer increasingly gets the impression that they were put there just like they were put into their former position of prime minister and first lady, as suggested at the film's end. In fact, as the film wears on, the mansion's interior is perceived as more and more eerie, something that is also reflected in the persistently gloomy weather. Moreover, the landscape that surrounds the house is as bleak and as dead almost, as its inhabitants, who, as we are to find out, are little more than puppets. And very tellingly, seen from the outside, for all its pristine and luxurious interior, the house strikes an eerie resemblance to a bunker or a prison, which again says much about their inhabitants for isn't this exactly what they are? Prisoners.

The Long Island house of Pierce Brosnan and Olivia Williams

So in the end, the protester who takes matters in his own hands is virtually the film's only sign of hope. But this being a Polanksi film, speaking of hope would be way too optimistic, for what is hope if the choices are either being run by a puppet government or else, anarchy?

Fanny och Alexander (prologue), Ingmar Bergman, Sweden/ France/ West-Germany 1982

Opening credits of Fanny och Alexander

When Ingmar Bergman shot Fanny och Alexander (Sweden 1982) he intended it to be his last film, which may explain why this particular film seems almost like a kaleidoscope of his entire oeuvre. Furthermore, the prologue to Fanny och Alexander can be seen as a kaleidoscope of the film as a whole since it deals with a number of topics such as mortality, religion, love, and the isolation of the individual in a godless universe – all topics that have preoccupied Bergman all his life and that culminate in this, his arguably most personal film. In what follows I seek to examine the film’s prologue from the questions of viewpoint, memory and identity, the latter including both, individual as well as national identity.

Fanny och Alexander begins with a close-up of water endlessly flowing down a river. The river, which is frequently used in film as a metaphor for life, and with all life originating in water - without it there would of course be no life at all - one of the film’s prime concerns is already established: the passing of life, the endless flow of it, and the memory of life long past. Next, we see an image of a theatre. Only when the camera zooms out do we realize that the theatre is not a real one, but in fact a toy, a miniature theatre. The words ‘Not solely for pleasure’ are inscribed above the stage. The stage itself consists of a backdrop of an Italian landscape until it quickly gives way to a Northern landscape, one that looks far more stern and joyless than the lush, jolly and playful one we saw before. An effective, yet subtle hint that unlike in countries like France or Italy, were indulging in the pleasures of life is indeed part of the culture this is not the case in Northern European countries like Sweden. And, presumably, was even less so at the time the film is set in. Thus, one moment later this backdrop also disappears, revealing a close-up of Alexander’s face -or rather: his eyes- thus establishing the film’s viewpoint, which marks a clear departure from literally all of Bergman’s previous films, for in Fanny och Alexander the story is told through the eyes of a child, Alexander, who, we must assume, is a reflection of Bergman himself, who, as an old man (he was sixty-four when he made the film), is looking back on his childhood by mixing fact and fiction, or, in other words, by reinterpreting reality. That Bergman worked at the Swedish Royal Dramatic Theatre deserves to be mentioned here, and so does the fact that the theatre itself is another metaphor on life, albeit on a rather strict one, a life that is ‘not solely for pleasure’. Depicted as a lonely child, we see Alexander placing an additional figure onto the stage of his toy-theatre: a woman. But, with the camera focusing on Alexander’s eyes, this figure also is blurred, just like the two existing ones -a man and a woman- so as if these figures, although physically present, do not really exist, or if they do, their presence is not really felt. Given Alexander’s obvious solitude and his need for protection and love, exemplified moments later when we hear him, almost terrified, crying out for company, I argue that the three figures stand in fact for his parents and his grandmother, all of whom are notably absent and only the latter eventually appears.

Seemingly frightened, we then see him restlessly wandering through the vast, murky flat where he all but disappears among the heavy, gloomy furniture. Feeling lost, alone and anxious, his cries for company unheard, he hides under the covers of his grandma’s bed. Moments later he is sitting on what looks like a loo, discovering a mouse, trapped in a mousetrap. This is followed by a close-up of his face behind the mousetrap, so as if it was him that is trapped inside the mousetrap, which by now fills the entire screen. In Alexander’s case, the mousetrap may symbolise the dark, immense, deserted apartment in which he himself feels trapped. A jump-cut shows him standing at the window, looking through lace curtains that turn out to be frost, denoting the emotional coldness and isolation he is surrounded by. The mournful music, that so far has underscored the film, suddenly stops, and we see Alexander staring outside. The dimness of the flat is contrasted by the almost glaring white of a peaceful winter-landscape, in the midst of which a street vendor is selling flowers in ostentatiously bright colours. He stands there, wistfully observing the completely mute, tranquil scene, like an animal trapped, longing to break free. This being Sweden, were winters are notoriously long, I would argue that it is no coincidence that Bergman chose this particular season for the opening sequence.

So as if the serenity of it had been too much for him to bear, he runs off in a mad dash, seeking shelter by hiding under a table. But peace and quiet are not to be found. Someone, who not only is the victim of such a strict, if not love-less, upbringing, but whose life has also been dominated by religion (Bergman’s father was a Lutheran priest), Alexander is soon haunted by demons. But he also becomes the victim of his own fantasy and desires. Observing the room from his hideout under the table a marble statue suddenly comes to life, signifying his loneliness and his need for company, and if real people cannot be had, a marble statue will do. Eventually, death himself appears in the guise of a skeleton, carrying a scythe. The memento-mori motif -reminding us of our mortality- has been a persistent theme in nearly all of Bergman’s films. This is highlighted by the clock, connoting the vanitas motif - the passing of time - which seemingly stops at 3pm, the time, according to legend, Jesus died on the cross. He looks at the enormous chandelier, meant to give warmth and light, but whose crystals resemble icicles. Out of nowhere, his grandmother appears, and oblivious to his plight, asks him if he wants to play cards, which may be what she wants but which may not necessarily be what Alexander has in mind.

As previously stated, the prologue to Fanny och Alexander is nearly as rich in motifs as the whole film and, for that matter, as the entirety of Bergman’s output as a director. As such, this prologue is like a film itself. In a mere seven minutes, Bergman succeeds in aptly outlining a childhood in turn-of-the-century Sweden. The images he evokes certainly have their origins as much in Bergman’s own childhood as they are connected to the country he grew up in: Alexander, a child raised in a strict household, where he feels ignored and uncared for. Given the various suggestions, not to mention Bergman’s own background, it is safe to assume that religion plays a fairly large part in the life of the family, while indulging in life’s pleasures is anathema. The coldness Alexander is surrounded by is mirrored in the external coldness, for the brief glimpse we are granted of the outside world shows us a universe dipped in snow, looking as uninviting as it looks strangely alluring - which adequately summarizes and describes this brief glimpse of Alexander’s world.

Start of Principal Photography on Hanna, Joe Wright, UK/ US/ Germany 2010

With Hanna Studio Babelsberg has landed yet another coup, buttressing its increasing significance in the international film world. Hanna, to be directed by Joe Wright of Atonement-fame, will primarily be shot at Studio Babelsberg next to other locations that include Bavaria, Berlin, Finland, and Morocco. Hanna stars Saoirse Ronan, Cate Blanchett, and Eric Bana.

Since the team of Charlie Woebcken and Christoph Fisser took over the studio in 2004, Babelsberg has been on a constant upswing. Not only have they managed to land one international film production after another, Woebcken and Fisser have also turned the studio, which until 2004 went through many ups and downs - though mostly downs - ever since the fall of the Wall, into a highly profitable operation.