Holy Hollywood

Preface (from Tales from the Hollywood Raj):

"Howard took the view that no performer who was not either a romantic young girl or a vain half-wit could conceivably derive any pleasure from performing to microphones and cameras instead of to real people, and whenever possible he would return to the New York or London stage; but as the Hollywood money grew increasingly hard to resist through the 1930s, Howard took refuge in writing for The New Yorker and Vanity Fair a series of increasingly acid 'trivial fond records.' One of these, in fact, pre-dated his first Hollywood film; written for The New Yorker in 1927 and entitled "Holy Hollywood," it was a reaction to the publicity then surrounding the first of Cecil B. de Mille's many biblical epics." Tales from the Hollywood Raj, pg. 116 

Article appeared in The New Yorker, May 14, 1927

[Spelling and punctuation are Mr. Howard's]

Holy Hollywood

Incredible and inscrutable are the ways of Destiny. The Motion Picture, sometime enfant terrible of the Arts, has for a long time been on equal economic terms with oil, steel and automobiles, and is now on the way to a position of spiritual and moral dominance which bids fair to equal that of the great religions of mankind. The signs all indicate that Hollywood is preparing to offer the world its new religion, and is already holding aloft a torch as a spiritual guide to all men.

The inspired Mr Cecil B. de Mille has already set the ball rolling, though the great Mr. Hays (not the Cardinal) must also be given some credit. Fired to a certain fervour by his cinema production of the story of Christ, Mr de Mille, we read in the public prints, has delivered an edict to the effect that all actors employed by him must lead moral lives and that all future contracts with him will contain a guarantee by the actor to live a pure and holy life. 

Imagine the cumulative effect of this in a few years time. The movie actor of the future will pause before the commission of any act which might be construed as improper in any way, and will consult with his conscience or his lawyer as to whether such an act might constitute a breach of contract. Gradually the desire to do wrong will depart from him through natural atrophy, and he will really become a holy person of whom any nice girl could say reverently: 'He's a movie actor, Mother,' just as she said in the old days: 'He's a Minister, Mamma.' There will be no more of those wild Hollywood parties. The ghastly spectre of Breach of Contract will have turned them into prayer meetings. Divorce will become unknown, the horror of infidelity will be banished forever, and the sanctity of the moving-picture home will prove a model for all good families. Even marriage, among the stricter members of the sect, may be shunned in favour of a life of celibacy.

Thus will the new religion arise to which the whole weary world will look—its high priests the great stars and directors, its acolytes chosen from the lesser fry of supers, continuity writers and cameramen. Hollywood will be its Mecca and Holy City. The Papal authority will be vested in one great leader, possibly Mr de Mille himself, and a number of Archbishops will be created from such prominent members as Harold Lloyd, W. S. Hart, John Gilbert, Harry Langdon, Douglas Fairbanks, Chester Conklin and others, while Messrs Lasky, Zukor, Goldwyn, Fox and Schenck will be made honorary Bishops.

It is more difficult to foresee what part will be played by the ladies in this new Cinema Faith. It may possibly be decided that since women are usually the cause of all the trouble, they may only be lay worshippers until they really reach a state of grace. But should they be formed into a Sisterhood of Mercy, it seems certain that Miss Mary Pickford will be at their head, while as Abbesses we may be sure of the devout presence of the Misses Gloria Swanson, Norma and Constance Talmadge, Norma Shearer, Alice Joyce, Mabel Normand and many others.

The churches of the new faith will, of course, be the picture studios themselves, and the ritual the actual filming of the great masterpieces. Thousands of pilgrims will flock to the de Mille studios, and watch in reverent silence the stirring ceremony of Mr de Mille in his papal robes directing some great scriptural story while the sanctified actors go through their religious roles to an organ accompaniment of sacred music.

In time, of course, some dissension will be bound to arise. The Fox section, for example, may get fed up with the high-church ritualism of the de Millites—'those hypocritical de Mille papists'—and set up its own temple in Culver City, while the Lasky worshippers will probably steer a middle course to secure support of congregations in the lower-cinematic-church.

Just as the studios will become the cathedrals, so will the picture theatres become the chapels to which the faithful will flock seven times a week, not counting matinées, the collection being taken up on entrance at an average of fifty cents a head. Thus, finally, we shall get a religion which reaches everyone—universal, all embracing—supported by its acolytes in film chapels and cinematic prayer groups throughout America. Thus will Hollywood drive out the devil and become a City of Holiness (indeed of Angels), a shining example of pious rectitude to the world.

Of course, I could be wrong about all this. Someone in Hollywood may read this prediction and send a warning round the studios. They may decide to continue their present wanton existence with even greater determination. Should this happen, these words will not have been written in vain.

Trivial Fond Records, pgs. 74-76

"Holy Hollywood" The New Yorker, May 14, 1927


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