PART ONE: INTRODUCTION
Harold Bell Wright’s success in the movie industry
never approached his triumphs in fiction.
Wright's first novel to be made into a movie, The Eyes
of The World, was filmed in the mountains near Redlands, California, the location described in the book. It was produced by Clune Films, well known at the time for
excellent cinematography.
The critics said The Eyes of the World had beautiful
scenery, but unless a viewer was familiar with the novel
there was no way to figure out the story. Evidently Wright
agreed, because for his second movie he and his publisher,
Elsbery Reynolds, formed the Harold Bell Wright Story-Picture
Corporation with Wright serving as writer, producer, and director.
"People do not go to the theater to see scenic
effects," Wright told a Los Angeles reporter after
"The Shepherd of the Hills" achieved some box office
success. "They go to see a story visualized.
The story is first; everything else is incidental." (Los
Angeles Evening Herald, June 17, 1919.)
By 1920, after only one movie, the Harold Bell Wright Story-Picture
Company was dead. Wright
and Reynolds were no longer on speaking terms as a result of
Wright's decision to have his books published by Appleton instead of by The Book Supply Company.
There is evidence that this quarrel cooled off later and the
two men were friends again, but the fight lasted long enough to
contribute to Wright's losing his movie rights.
In an interview conducted by Columbia
University in 1971,
Hollywood
producer,
Sol Lesser, recounted how in 1920-22 he obtained the right to
make movies from all Wright's books published to that time. According to Lesser, he and his
partner, Mike Rosenberg, wanted the movie rights
to Wright's books because they figured the millions of people who had read the books would want to see movies based on those stories. So Lesser traveled to Tucson to see if Wright would sell. Wright was willing, but there was a problem. Reynolds owned half the
rights to the books, and Wright was not willing to talk to Reynolds or deal with him in any way. But Wright offered a solution. If Lesser would deal with Reynolds directly, and buy
from Reynolds his half of the rights, Wright would give his own half of the movie rights to Lesser in exchange for what would then be Lesser's half of the publishing rights. Lesser says he
"hot-footed" it to Pomona, paid Reynolds $175,000 for
the book and movie rights, and the printing plates, and made the trade
with Wright. When the dealing was done, Reynolds had $175,000, Wright owned all the publishing rights (and the printing plates), and Lesser owned the movie rights to all the Book Supply Company titles. Unfortunately, Wright traded away lucrative
movie rights
in exchange for
book rights that proved to be of little monetary value.
Worse, he gave up all right to control the content of
the movies.
Lesser's
contract with Reynolds, dated
September 6, 1922 and now in the UCLA Library, shows that
before Reynolds sold the rights to Lesser, Reynolds already had some deals in motion for production of
movies from Wright’s books. Clune had agreed to pay Reynolds 3% of receipts for the 1916
movie, The Eyes of the World, and The Norris Company had bought
the rights to make a movie of The Winning of Barbara Worth, also
paying Reynolds 3% of receipts. Evidently Clune and Norris
(who never completed the Barbara Worth movie) had only bought licenses to
make one movie each, because Lesser now bought the unlimited
rights to those titles, along with
rights
to
the other seven Book Supply
Company titles. He also bought the existing film copies of
the 1919 movie, The Shepherd of the Hills.
It is likely that the language in Lesser’s 1922 contract with Harold Bell Wright was identical or very similar to the language in the contract with Reynolds, in which Reynolds granted Lesser "the exclusive universal motion picture and stage rights . . . together with the exclusive and universal right to use the titles and themes . . . and to adapt, arrange, change, transpose, add to or subtract from the themes and titles . . . to such an extent as the purchasers may deem expedient," to make movies from Wright's first nine novels (from
Reynolds contract in UCLA Special Collections). As the contract
would suggest, the Harold Wright
"B-movies" that followed departed
significantly from the stories in the novels. Sometimes only the
names of Wright's titles and characters were recognizable.
The first movies produced under this contract were: When
a Man’s a Man (1924), The Mine with the Iron Door (1924), A
Son of His Father (1925), The Recreation of Brian Kent (1925),
The Shepherd of The Hills (1928) and The Eyes of the World (1930).
In 1926 Lesser sold the rights to “The Winning of
Barbara Worth” to Samuel Goldwyn for $125,000. Goldwyn
employed the top romantic duo of the time, Ron Colman and Vilma
Banky, to play the
leads
in
The
Winning
of
Barbara
Worth. Coleman's
performance
was
overshadowed by the brilliant acting of a rookie
named Gary Cooper who made his debut in this
epic
silent Western.
By 1930 it was clear that the future of movies included
sound. So Sol Lesser, believing that he owned the
unlimited rights to make movies from the Harold Bell Wright
titles he bought in 1922, produced The Eyes of the World with
sound.
By the early 1930's it had also became obvious to Wright that
there was much more money to be made from movies of his early
stories than from reprints of his books, and he wanted back into
the movie business. This is when it occurred to him that
his 1922 contract had only conveyed to Lesser the right to make
SILENT movies. It could not have conveyed rights to sound
movies, he reasoned, because they hadn't been invented in 1922.
He informed Lesser that if Lesser wanted to make, or remake,
sound movies from Wright's early books he would have to enter
into a new contract and pay him for each sound movie.
But
Lesser
argued
that his earlier
contract conveyed to him the right to make ANY movie, including
talking pictures, from the titles covered in the 1922 contract.
Wright and Sol Lesser agreed to let a judge settle the
matter. "Before undertaking production, the two
presented their briefs to the California Court for
'Declaratory Relief,' the Court to declare a finding
on the respective rights in advance without parties suing each
other. The Court found that rights were conveyed, regardless of
technical changes or additions in the film medium."
(Email message from Sol's son, Julian Lesser, to Chudleigh, May
15, 2001.) In other
words, the judge ruled against Wright, and Lesser was free to
make sound movies with no additional payments to Wright.
In a letter (now in the Princeton
University Library) to Harper and Brothers,
written
in January, 1944,
Wright provides a slightly different ending to the story.
He says that after the judge ruled against him, he threatened to
appeal, and rather than continue the legal case, Lesser and
associates settled, "on my terms." These
negotiations, Wright says, led to the six-movie contract
mentioned below. Evidently his terms only related to
additional titles not covered in the 1922 contract.
The first of several sound movies
produced after the judge's ruling, and Wright's later
settlement, was the 1935 film, "When A Man's A Man,"
though before the dispute Sol Lesser had already re-made "The Eyes of the
World" with sound. The
other
sound
movies that Lesser produced under this phase of the 1922
contract included When a Man’s a Man (1935), The Calling of
Dan Matthews (1936), The Mine with the Iron Door (1936), and
Wild Brian Kent (1936).
By
1935
Lesser
wanted
some
new
Harold
Bell
Wright
stories.
Because of declining health,
Wright
turned over all his movie dealings to his oldest son, Gilbert,
who was at the time employed by Sol Lesser to write story ideas
and screen plays for several of the novels Wright had sold to
Lesser in 1922 and later. Gilbert quickly created a proposal,
arranged a deal, and signed a contract selling Lesser the movie
rights to six Harold Bell Wright stories--three PUBLISHED
stories and three ORIGINAL stories. The three published stories
named in the first part of the contract included two published
novels and a published magazine story. One published novel was
listed as Exit in one personal letter, and as God and The
Groceryman in another. Neither of these novels was ever produced
as a movie, so it is probably not important to know which was
correct. The other novel was Helen of the Old House.
Lesser did release a movie, WESTERN GOLD (1937), which he
billed as being based on Helen of the Old House, though the
movie bore no resemblance to the novel. The third published story that Lesser bought was "A
Desert Santa Claus," which was also never released as a
movie. So Lesser
really
produced
none
of
the three published
stories
he
purchased,
though
the
deal
did
give
him
the
right
to
attach
Wright's
name
to
a
movie
that
sort
of
grew
from
Helen
of
the
Old
House.
The second part of the six-movie contract granted Lesser
the right to make movies based on three original stories, not
yet written by Wright.
This
lead
to
much
controversy.
Gilbert said he felt the contract should
have SOME names for these three stories, so he inserted names--and
short
outlines--of
three story ideas of his own, assuring his father that genuine
Harold Bell Wright stories could be substituted before the
movies were produced. The three
stories
Gilbert listed in
the contract were, "Desert Storm," "Man of the
Sea," and "A Farmer Returns." Gilbert told his
father two of the stories, "Desert Storm," and "A
Farmer Returns" were based on ideas he had heard his father
express, but, he said, "the sea tale is not yours."
When Wright learned about Gilbert's
stories
in the
contract, he immediately concluded that if he substituted his
own stories in place of Gilbert's, he would reveal to Lesser,
and perhaps to the world, that Gilbert had committed fraud in
the original contract, and he would position himself as an
accessory to the fraud. Gilbert, who asked his father repeatedly
over the next few months for original stories to submit to
Lesser, never agreed with his dad on that point.
This conflict will be examined in detail in parts two
and
three
of
this paper.
In the end, three movies were produced and released in
fulfillment of this second part of the contract. One, THE
CALIFORNIAN (1937), was written by Gilbert. It must have been an
adaptation of one of Gilbert's three original stories listed in
the contract. Apparently
Lesser didn't like Gilbert's other two stories, because the
other two movies, IT HAPPENED OUT WEST (1937), and SECRET VALLEY
(1937), were written by other writers employed by Lesser. Though
Wright had never even seen any of these stories until shortly
before the contract was signed, Lesser billed each of the three
movies as being "From a Story by Harold Bell Wright."
Wright, who believed he had been trapped into selling other people's stories as his own, and into letting his name be attached to movies he detested, was angry at both Lesser and Gilbert. In 1944, at the end of a letter to his youngest son, Norman, Wright penned, "Since this deal with Lesser, and the kind of junk he put out over my name, I have never had, nor been able to arouse, one word of interest in the Wright stories from any producer. I don't blame them. From a 50,000.00 and 75,000.00 writer I have been made into the cheapest sort of Main Street author." (See Storyteller to America, Lawrence V. Tagg, p. 71) But far more important than Wright's anger at Lesser, was the deep disappointment and anger he felt toward his own son, Gilbert, whom he felt had betrayed him for financial and career
gains. Part Two
and
Three
of
this paper will examine how this troublesome 1935
contract developed and why it created such conflict between
Wright and his oldest son, Gilbert.
PART
TWO:
BEFORE THE STORM
First, we need to understand that the concept of the
two-part, six-movie deal of 1935 between Sol Lesser and Harold
Bell Wright was not invented by Wright’s oldest son,
Gilbert. Lesser and Wright were already discussing exactly this
package deal before Gilbert got involved.
In his 1944 review of his dealings with Gilbert, Wright
tells Norman that in 1935 there was renewed interest in making
movies from his recent stories. Lesser was among those most interested. The problem was that Lesser did not want to buy the published
stories Wright was offering unless the contract also included
three new stories by Wright.
Wright responded that he would sell Lesser his published
stories, and he would sell him three unpublished, or
"original" story ideas that were still in his head,
but he absolutely would not tie the two deals together.
"When you came in the 'situation,'" Wright
wrote to Gilbert on December 26, 1935, "My deal with Lesser
had not as you say, failed.
It is true that he had refused to pay the price that you
and your friend advised me to ask.
But our deal was still open, as the correspondence
shows." Wright
told Norman in 1944, "I [was] trying to sell Lesser the
published stories, and Lesser [was] holding out for me to give
him also three originals."
It is obvious that Lesser was not very interested in any
of Wright's published stories--except Ma Cinderella, which
Wright was not offering him, at least not at the price they were
talking about for the other stories. Why didn't Lesser want the
published stories? According
to Gilbert, the stories weren't very good for movies.
In his December 17, 1935 letter to his dad, Gilbert
refers to the three published stories as, "the least
valuable of your stories," and as "a short story and
two novels which you had every right to consider unsalable to
the pictures." Further
evidence that Lesser was not interested in the published stories
Wright was offering is provided by the fact that after he bought
the three published stories, he produced only one of them, Helen
of the Old House, and he did that only after he discarded both
the novel's story and title.
And he didn't make that movie until after the movies made
from the new or "original" stories were in the theaters.
Why was Lesser so interested in new, original,
unpublished stories? Lesser needed bigger-than-life, heroic
action-figures. If
the ticket sales had warranted it, he could have made a series
of ten or more movies using the name Brian Kent, which he had
purchased in 1922, but what could he do with Exit, or Helen of
the Old House, or A Desert Santa Claus? Not much. But,
if he contracted for new stories, and if he didn't have to pay
for them until he approved them, he could make sure the stories
had the names and characters he needed.
The unpublished stories would give him a chance to use
Wright's name with stories and titles he could control and could
sell effectively. This
was especially true if he could include a few of Wright's
previously published stories in the same contract with the new
original stories. He could then take delivery of the old stories, and perhaps
even produce them and market them, but have the legal right to
not pay for any of them until all the stories listed in the
contract, including the original stories, were finished and
approved by him. Bundling
them into one six-movie contract would give him great control
over the story content.
But Wright would not agree to that.
Why? Wright stated four reasons in his letter to Gilbert,
dated, October 26, 1935, and they all boil down to the same
reason Lesser wanted them tied together.
"Whether it is in the contract or not, whatever
[story] was in the contract would have to be accepted by Lesser
and if he refused to accept it for any reason it would certainly
complicate the settlement for the books that were already
finished." In
other words Wright was afraid he would not get paid for the
three published stories until all three original stories were
finished, and accepted. That
would give Lesser all the control over story content, and since
Wright was not sure he would ever finish three new stories, he
might never get paid for any of the six stories.
That is when Wright got sick and asked Gilbert, who
already "was working for Lesser," to take over these
negotiations for him. And
Gilbert promptly developed a "proposition" that he
thought should be acceptable to both sides.
We do not have a copy of that proposition, but it is not
difficult to reconstruct what was in it. In 1944, just weeks
before his death, Wright assembled fourteen letters he hoped
would demonstrate to his youngest son, Norman, that the senior
Wright had been correct in this dispute with Gilbert. The first letter, from Gilbert to his dad, is dated October
17, 1935. Gilbert
opens the subject with these words: "I have not written you
about the Lesser deal because there is very little to write.
He has been away and only yesterday [Lesser] returned to
read your letter and mine (the one outlining the proposition I
sent to you)."
Gilbert proposed to give Lesser three published stories,
and three unpublished stories, just like Lesser wanted.
But Gilbert sweetened the deal for his dad by adding that
he, Gilbert, would help his father write the three original
stories, much as he had done with their jointly authored book, The Devil's Highway.
Before October 16, Gilbert had talked to his dad about
this arrangement, and Wright had agreed to pay Gilbert $1000 for
his assistance with each of the three original stories.
Apparently Gilbert's "proposition" also
included a link between the two parts of the contract, because
ten days later, in an October 26 letter to Gilbert, Wright says
that after further thought, he absolutely will not agree to a
link between the two parts of the deal, or to anything that
requires him to finish the original stories. He will only agree
to sell the movie rights to Lesser if and when he gets each
story done. But the
subject was never mentioned again and the contract Wright signed
included all six movies.
It is no surprise that Lesser liked Gilbert's proposition
very much; it was just what he had been proposing to Wright all
along. At that
October 16 meeting with Gilbert, Lesser offered to pay Wright
$30,000 for the six stories--$7500 for each published story and
$2500 for each original story. And, he offered to pay Gilbert an
additional $6000 when all six stories had been written,
submitted and approved. It
is probably fair to say that Wright was not well represented
from this point on in these negotiations, as Gilbert had
overwhelming conflicts of interest. Gilbert was already working
for Lesser, he was hoping to get future jobs from Lesser, and
now he was to be paid $6000 for "assisting" his father
in completing the six stories, which would require him first to
convince his father to agree to the deal, or as Wright said
later, to trick his father into accepting the deal.
It is not altogether clear whether Wright liked the price
Lesser offered for the six stories. In Gilbert's initial letter on October 17, he told his
father that he had informed Lesser he could not accept the
price, "for fear of what his father would do to him."
But as we saw in the letter quoted above, sometimes the
price Wright asked for his stories was set by Gilbert and his
friend. In any
case, Gilbert said he told Lesser that if Lesser would not pay
more, he would send the proposal to other movie studios to see
if they would. And
he told his father that during the previous week he had already
given the six-movie "proposition" to an agent who had
submitted it to other studios, and those other studios were
reading the stories and preparing offers.
And now Gilbert, in the same October 17 letter, casually
mentions to Wright his innocent-sounding little maneuver that
would cause so much conflict for years to come. "I also took the liberty of giving them [the other
studios] a sketchy outline of three originals--saying that they
were merely samples. (I worked out three pretty good originals
and will of course check with you.
But I thought I should have something)."
In defending this action to his father in a letter dated
November 23, 1935, Gilbert says, "I don't see why you
should be worried over the ethics of the originals.
You are simply selling Lesser three story ideas; it is up
to him to make pictures of them. I should have talked with you
before submitting these ideas but I needed them at once.
Two of them are essentially ideas that I have heard you
express. . . . I
simply had to have something on paper, naturally I chose ideas I
felt I could work up."
Furthermore, Gilbert tells his father, "We can sub-
[section missing. Probably, "We can substitute your stories in place of
mine at any time."] I
know that these will be changed and rechanged a dozen times
anyway. All we can hope to do is, with me on the job, to make as good
a picture as possible."
From the October 17 letter it would appear that Gilbert
did not present his own story titles to Lesser, only to the
other studios. But
in the November 23 letter, Gilbert adds, "I am enclosing
copies of these ideas which I submitted to Lesser and which he
is willing to buy."
The other studios did not offer more money than Lesser
offered, so Gilbert resumed negotiations with Lesser.
On November 1, 1935, two weeks after their first meeting
about this contract, Gilbert and Lesser agreed on a draft of the
contract. On
November 22 Wright received a letter from Lesser's secretary
saying the contract was being prepared.
That letter mentions that the titles of the six stories
are Helen of the Old House, Exit, A Desert Santa Claus [the
three published stories] and Desert Storm, Man of the Sea, and A
Farmer Returns [the original stories].
In a November 22 letter to Gilbert, five weeks after
Gilbert first told his dad about the three stories of his own
that he had presented as samples, Wright expresses for the first
time that he feels, "just a little bit streaky about these
three original stories. As
you have already sent them in there is nothing I can do, but I
do think you should send me as soon as possible copies of these
stories. I do not
like the idea of selling something as my own which I have never
even seen. I do not
feel that it is quite ethical and I think it certainly opens up
great possibilities for trouble."
It is interesting to note how soft Wright was in this
objection. He did
not sound angry. He
didn't think it unacceptable.
He only said he felt "a little bit streaky."
For a man who loudly denounced wrongdoing whenever he
encountered it, who tossed his manuscript of When a Man's a Man
into a bonfire when he didn't like it, who burned his paintings
and painting equipment when he decided to write full time, and
who set his Imperial Valley writing shack on fire when he
learned the next owner was going to put animals in it, this was
not the kind of talk that would get his son's attention.
Furthermore, he didn't say he objected to selling stories
that he hadn't written, only that he objected to selling stories
he hadn't seen. His solution was not to substitute his stories
for his son's but to have his son send him the stories so he
could see them before they were sold, implying that once he
reads the stories he will not feel "streaky" any
longer.
Mail between Gilbert and his dad often traveled faster
than the U.S. Postal Service could deliver it.
In a later letter Wright says, "I have your letter .
. . delivered by Leta."
Apparently Wright’s “streaky” letter was hand
delivered, because the very next day, November 23, 1935 Gilbert
sent copies of the three stories to his father, gave his reasons
why he inserted these stories, and repeated that other stories
could be inserted at any time. Gilbert assured his father that
"Two of them are essentially ideas that I have heard you
express as suitable material for a novel: the change in ideal of
the home, and the Mexican border story.
The sea tale is not yours, but I know you have plenty--WE
CAN USE OTHERS IF YOU LIKE." [Emphasis mine]
By legal standards, Hollywood custom, and Lesser's
standard practice, Gilbert was certainly correct.
When Julian Lesser, Sol's son, who knew nothing of this
controversy, was asked in 2001 if he had a copy of the 1935
contract, he replied, "I doubt if the original HBW contract
with my father is anywhere.
If it is, it would have been modified by subsequent
clauses, changes, renegotiated terms, letters of understanding,
plus oral understandings reached by phone."
"A contract means one thing to a journalist; there
it is, in black and white.
But actual execution comes from fights over
interpretation, threats to sue, and talent agents making
peace."
That is what Gilbert was trying to explain to his father
in 1935 and for many years after that.
When Wright first proclaimed it “too late” to make
substitutions, the contract had not even been signed.
Lesser was buying stories that had not yet been written,
so he had to accept any story they produced solely on it's
merits upon delivery. It
did not have to match what they showed him during negotiations
because they had not shown him anything that anyone expected him
to keep. Certainly
the working titles would not be used, and any stories kept would
be significantly altered.
In this same November 23 letter, Gilbert tells his father
he will not be able to show the rough draft of the contract to
Alfred Wright [apparently no relation] until the following
Tuesday because Alfred is out of town.
The contract wasn't signed until the early part of
December.
In light of later developments, we should note here that
no harsh words have passed between father and son, and Wright
has not objected strongly to anything except tying the six
stories together in one contract, which they apparently never
discussed again.
On October 17, when Gilbert first told his father about
his own three stories, Wright said nothing about them.
Why? Perhaps
Wright thought that before the contract was drafted his own
stories would be substituted.
But when he saw Gilbert's titles in the contract in late
November, he still said only that he "felt streaky"
and would like to read them before the sale was completed.
PART
THREE:
THE STORM
But in Gilbert's next letter to his father, written
December 17, 1935 he made requests, "demands" Wright
called them, that changed their relationship forever, and
changed Wright's view of all that his oldest son, Gilbert, had
done since taking over the movie negotiations.
"I have been thinking over the original story deal
from its conception down to the present," Gilbert says,
"and I have come to the conclusion that I am fairly
entitled to receive something out of the deal. Let me outline all that has bearing on the case and see if
you agree."
Wright read Gilbert's outline and he did not agree.
He was profoundly offended and deeply hurt by Gilbert's
reasons why he deserved to be paid.
Before responding, Wright asked for clarification, and
Gilbert repeated his "demands."
On December 26, Wright exploded, "Gilbert--for all
the downright cheap and sordid selfishness, and for ignoble
ingratitude, that statement from you to me is a shameful thing.
I could not have believed you capable of it."
He closes the letter, "I am heartsick and tired.
My disillusionment is complete.
I ask you in decency to give me definite assurance from
yourself, your friend Rex and the agent, that I am free from any
further entanglement from you all.
When you have done this, and the Lesser contract is
fulfilled, you will get your money." That is the last thing on the page. There is no salutation or signature.
It is in the midst of this emotional letter that Wright
for the first time states that he deplored Gilbert's insertion
of his own stories in the contract.
He declared it to be "a low-down, shabby trick . . .
that put me in a position that I was forced to accede to your
demands for payment."
Before we examine what Gilbert said that caused this
conflict and why Wright responded like he did, we should put the
conflict itself in perspective.
In some families, words like those Wright addressed to
his son would have marked the end of their relationship forever.
This was not the case with Gilbert and his father, though
their future correspondence seems to be quite careful and
reserved. After
Gilbert assured his father in a January 3, 1936 letter that he
had not been making demands but only asking his father's
opinion, and after he assured his father that he appreciated all
his father had done for him, Gilbert continues, "We had
lots of Christmas presents (thank you both--the stone hippo is a
real prize). . . ." "Well, Dad, I hope to God the
storm is over between us; after all it is 1936 and there might
be something good in it. Happy
New Year to you and Winnie and the Farm."
Three days later Wright responded with a rather cool and
business-like letter and closed, "We are both very sorry to
hear of Barbara's [Gilbert's wife's] illness. I am writing her a little letter today. With love to the family, as always, HBW."
Nearly one year later, on December 9, 1938 Wright sent a
warm invitation to Gilbert and family to be sure to come to the
farm for New Years Eve and over the next day.
Wright urges Gilbert to bring Barbara down for several
days before Christmas. After giving some suggestions on how
Gilbert could improve his presentation of his stories to get
more contracts, Wright closes, "I need not add that these
observations are born of my deep desire to see you achieve the
success you are so eminently qualified to gain. A success which you will never gain until, to your own self,
nothing that has to do with your work is trivial or unimportant.
At no stage of the development of a story idea can
you--dare you--give less than your all."
And in 1944, when Wright tells Norman his side of this
story, he implores Norman "not to change in the least
degree your attitude toward your brother."
And he reminds Norman that even after their difficulties
over this contract, Wright offered to provide the money Gilbert
needed in order to buy a nice house for his family, and it was
to be a gift, not a loan. (That gift was never made because it
was conditional upon Gilbert moving out of Hollywood, something
he was not prepared to do.)
That said, let's go back and examine Gilbert's
"demands," Wright's reaction, and the ultimate outcome
of the six-movie contract.
Gilbert's letter was dated, December 17, 1935.
Wright notes in the margin that the 6-movie contract had
already been signed. In
the opening paragraphs we learn that Gilbert enjoyed a recent
visit with his dad. "It
was great to talk story with you once more . . . ."
We learn that Wright has offered Gilbert $15,000 to help
him finish "The Man Who Went Away," and Gilbert is
eager to get started on it.
It is likely that Wright's irritation with Gilbert's
letter began in the second paragraph when Gilbert requested that
Wright pay him the $15,000 "when I begin work on the
novel." He
didn't actually say "pay me" when I begin; the deal
was that in exchange for Gilbert's help, Wright would finance a
house for Gilbert at a cost of $15,000. Gilbert said, "It seems to me that the house should be
started when I begin work on the novel.
We need it and want it as soon as possible. I think you
might handle the building and then deed the place over to me
when it is paid for, by which time the novel should also be
ready for the editor."
From notes that Wright added to the margin of the letter
in 1944, we learn that Wright was, "so ill that I feared I
would never be able to finish The Man Who Went Away."
And we learn in other handwritten notes that Wright did
not have $15,000 and would have to borrow it.
Writers and co-writers normally receive their pay when
books sell, only in rare cases before they are written.
But Gilbert requested Dad's payments "when I
begin" because he needed it and wanted it.
Wright had to be irritated.
Next Gilbert tells his dad about all his successes in the
movie business. Gilbert
says one of his stories had turned out to be, according to
critics, the best picture Lesser has yet turned out. "Naturally this puts me in a sweet spot; Lesser wants me
to join up permanently with the outfit and so on.
I won't of course, because I am going further than
that." On Friday, Gilbert reports, Lesser had given him an
assignment to write a screen adaptation of The Mine With the
Iron Door, and Gilbert had it done by Monday.
"It was acceptable and so naturally our stock
reached a new high." But with his father, his stock was
beginning to dip.
Now Gilbert makes his move.
He tells his dad the six-movie deal is done and the
stories are sold, "I have come to the conclusion that I am
fairly entitled to receive something from the deal." What Gilbert stated he deserved, and what Wright says in the
margins he already expected to pay, are exactly the same thing:
forgiveness of a $3000 debt that Gilbert had owned his dad for
several years, plus $3000 cash for the three original stories,
making $6,000 compensation altogether.
However there was a subtle difference.
In this December 17 letter, Gilbert tells his father that
years earlier Wright "had generously said that [the debt]
was all water under the bridge and to forget it," and he
tells his father that although Wright now owed him $3000 as a
commission for the overall deal, he, Gilbert was not going to
collect that $3000 from Wright--in appreciation for the debt his
dad had forgiven him earlier.
It seems that Gilbert was happy and proud to offer his
dad that magnanimous gesture.
Wright had something only subtly different in mind.
He said in the margin, "This [the earlier debt
cancellation] is not true.
I had planned to cancel his $3000 debt to me as a return
to him for looking after my interests in the motion picture
field. He beat me
to it."
What difference did it make?
Both men agreed that the work Gilbert did on the deal
nicely cancelled the debt Gilbert owed his father, but they
disagreed on who should thank the other for the exchange!
But a closer look reveals that it made a much more
important difference. There
are two different $3000 functions being discussed. One is the $3,000 that Wright agreed to pay Gilbert for
helping him write the three original stories.
The other is a $3000 consideration for Gilbert's help
with the negotiations. The
two men had agreed before October 16, 1935 that Wright would pay
Gilbert $3,000 for his help with writing the three stories, so
that was not an issue. And we know from reading Wright's notes in the margins of
these letters that he intended to cancel Gilbert's $3,000 debt
in appreciation for all Gilbert's negotiations with Lesser.
BUT GILBERT DID NOT KNOW THAT. There had never been any
discussion of Gilbert receiving anything from Wright for this
management function. Evidently
Gilbert, who had been expecting to receive $3,000 cash for
writing the three original stories, had suddenly realized that
his Dad was very likely to forgive his old debt instead of
paying him for writing the stories. Then Gilbert would get no new money from all this negotiating
and writing. Since
Wright had never told Gilbert about his intention to reward him
in any way for his management of his affairs, Gilbert had no
choice but to think what he did.
In a letter Gilbert wrote January 3, 1936, still trying
to soothe his father's anger, Gilbert says, ". . . until a
short time ago I thought I could bank on $3000 from you."
In other words, Gilbert was hoping to receive $3,000 in
cash, but had recently realized (wrongly, it turns out) he was
likely to only receive the debt cancellation.
So Gilbert's purpose in his December 17 letter was to
prove to his father that there really were two $3000 jobs he had
done. The letter
was a pre-emptive strike. Debt
forgiveness was fine with Gilbert, but only if it applied to all
the management service he had provided, leaving his dad to pay
him $3,000 cash for the original stories.
In his letter he explained this carefully to his dad.
Today we know that Wright was already thinking exactly the same
thing, but was holding the information in his head to be a
pleasant surprise for his son.
It was an honest lack of communication, with tragic
results. It is
unfortunate that before Gilbert gave all the reasons his dad
owed him $3,000 for his "commission," he didn't ask
his dad if he planned to give him anything for his management
work. If his dad
had given him a straight answer, this whole conflict might have
been avoided.
But Wright's irritation was rising with each sentence.
In the second paragraph Gilbert said he wanted $15,000
before he did any work on The Man Who Went Away, in the third
paragraph he told his dad he, Gilbert, is wonderful, too good
for Lesser. Now, in
the fourth paragraph he tells his dad, several days AFTER the
contract is signed, that now he feels he deserves something out
of the deal, which he never mentioned before.
In the fifth paragraph Gilbert states that his father had
already forgiven him the $3,000 debt, which Wright says in the
margin he never forgave, but intends to.
In paragraphs six and seven Gilbert argues that his dad
owes him money for all the help he has given, and in the seventh
paragraph Gilbert grants himself a full pardon for the $3,000
debt because his father owes it to him for his services.
"I actually believe," Gilbert writes,
"that the debt is morally and actually wiped out right
now." So what
Wright secretly planned as a gift, Gilbert now tells him, is
only payment of what he owes.
But from Wright's perspective the letter is worse than
stated above. Wright was planning to give Gilbert a $3,000
credit just because he appreciated all he had done.
But most of the reasons Gilbert provides for his father
owing him $3,000 are slightly inaccurate and at least a little
insulting.
Gilbert says Wright already canceled the old debt.
This seems to be a gratuitous point since they both
agreed that canceling the old debt was fair compensation for
Gilbert’s management work.
But it still irritates Wright, who says he never
cancelled the debt. Gilbert
writes, "The deal you originally submitted to Lesser did
not go through. I did all I could to save it." Not true, says Wright, the deal was still open.
Gilbert stated, "I wrote a treatment of each of your
novels and the originals, contacted agents, drew up the
proposition for submission to all the major studios and did all
possible to get the approximate price you wanted (in this event
you would have had to pay the agent’s commission, although he
did little more than contact studio heads). When this fell
through, I got on Lesser's tail again, MADE TRIPS TO YOUR PLACE
[Wright underlined those words], hired a secretary to aid me in
re-writing the treatments, etc, and fought Lesser to take the
least valuable of your stories . . . which you had every reason
to consider as unsalable to the pictures."
What? Wright must have thought, my own son says the
stories I poured my soul into are really worthless?
In the next paragraph Gilbert says, "You are to get
from Lesser $7500 for three of my stories."
And later, "In other words, as it stands now, I am
getting nothing from this intire (sic) deal and am furnishing
three of the six stories into the bargin (sic)." We must remember that from all the knowledge Gilbert had,
this was perfectly accurate, at least in his dealings with his
dad. If Wright
applied the old debt to his story writing and paid nothing for
his management services, Gilbert would not have received a
penny, other than the forgiveness of the loan.
But the words, "I am getting nothing," rang
false with Wright, who knew perfectly well Gilbert was paid
$6000 by Lesser for the same management functions he was now
expecting his father to pay him for.
Wright seems to have just begun to believe that
Lesser’s $6000 served mainly as a motivation for Gilbert to
manipulate his father into accepting the deal.
His anger is beginning to boil.
"I am getting nothing from this deal," Gilbert
said. "The
fact that I am being paid a nominal sum by Lesser to work on the
screen plays does not enter. . . ."
He had already told his father on October 17, that Lesser
was paying him $6000 for the deal.
A “nominal sum” is what Wright received from Lesser
for each movie he sold him in 1922--one dollar (plus Reynolds'
half of the publishing rights to Wright's Book Supply Company
books).
Weeks earlier, Gilbert had said two of the original story
ideas came from his father, now Gilbert describes them as his
alone. "You
said you would naturally pay me for my stories," Gilbert
said. Wright noted, correctly, that he agreed to pay him $1000 to
help him write each of Wright's stories, not to buy Gilbert's.
Finally Gilbert ends, "What do you think?
I knew that so long as I felt this way, after thinking it
all over fully, you would want me to get it off my chest."
From Wright's perspective, as reflected in his many notes
in the margins, Gilbert's arguments were greedy, disrespectful
and totally unnecessary. Why
go to all this trouble to depreciate everything his father had
done, and strain to exaggerate all Gilbert had done, even
mentioning his expense for traveling to visit his father, when
his father already intended to freely pay him exactly what he
was asking for? Wright
noted at the bottom of the page, "Sounds like I am a
stranger."
There is no evidence that Wright ever caught on that his
son was writing these things because he didn't know what Wright
was thinking, and Gilbert expected to be left with an empty bag.
In fact, according to Wright, the idea that his own son
might think his father would not pay him for his work, was the
most insulting cut of all.
"You can scarcely doubt that I expected to pay you
for any help you might give me with these original picture
stories." So there was little hope for understanding in
that direction.
The tone of Gilbert's letter, and the misrepresentations
and exaggerations bothered Wright enormously.
As he thought about them in the following days, he came
to see everything Gilbert had ever done on this 6-movie deal as
an elaborate scheme to force Wright into a position where he had
no choice but to essentially buy stories from Gilbert and sell
them to Lesser as Wright's own work.
In the margin of Gilbert's letter of "demands,"
Wright penned, "He is simply forcing me to buy 3 stories
from him which I never saw and never wanted, in order to land
that $6000 job with Lesser--which depended upon this deal
whereby he sells ME [underlined by Wright] to Lesser."
It is clear that Wright is thinking like people often
think about their ex-spouses after a divorce.
The actions they once saw as most unselfish, the gifts
most precious, the things they once proudly told their friends
about, are now seen as selfish acts, calculated to get something
in return. Gilbert's letter, which Wright saw as greedy and
disrespectful, caused Wright to re-evaluate and reinterpret
everything Gilbert had said or done since taking over the movie
negotiations.
Perhaps it will help us understand what happened if we
look at how easily things could have been different.
Scenario #1. Wright at any time before October 16 could have said,
"Oh, by the way, son, I really appreciate all you are doing
for me with this movie deal.
I would like you to know that when it is all finished, in
addition to the $3000 I will owe you for your work on the three
original stories, I plan to write off the $3000 debt you owe
me." If he had
said that, Gilbert never would have made his "demands," and Wright
would not have been offended.
Why didn't Wright tell his son he planned to compensate
him for all his help with the movie deal?
Probably because he realized it would be a lot easier to
grant the compensation when the deal was done well, than to take
it back it if it wasn't done well.
Scenario #2. Instead of assuming his dad didn't plan to compensate him in
any way, and launching into his list of reasons he deserved to
be paid, Gilbert could have added a paragraph at the end of a
letter that said, "By the way Dad, I have done a lot of
work on this movie deal, and now it is just about finished.
Just in case you are thinking of paying me for all my
work, please know that I don't expect payment.
I would be perfectly happy to have whatever value you
might think my work has been worth applied toward that $3000
that I have never paid back to you."
If Gilbert had done that Wright would probably have
replied, "I guess it is true that great minds think alike.
As a matter of fact, I have been thinking for some time
that I would like to forgive that old debt in appreciation for
all your work. Since this seems appropriate to both of us, we
will consider that a fact--as soon as Lesser pays me for all six
stories." Instead,
Gilbert assumed his Dad would not pay him, and labored to change
his dad's mind, with many offensive arguments.
Scenario #3. Wright, after receiving the offensive letter, could have
realized that his son was speaking out of understandable
ignorance, and could have written, "As a matter of fact, I
have been thinking for some time that I would like to forgive
that old debt in appreciation for all your work.
I wish now that I had told you, because it would have
made it unnecessary for you to create all these reasons why I
owed you the money. To tell you the truth, I found several of
your comments rather offensive, and not entirely accurate. But
since we agree that forgiving that old debt is fair compensation
for all the management work you have done, there is no need to
go into those petty issues now.
We will consider your debt paid as soon as Lesser pays me
for all six stories. Thanks
for all you have done."
Why didn't Wright "turn the other cheek" with a
gracious letter like the one suggested above?
Obviously Gilbert's comments touched on issues that
Wright felt deeply about, but had not expressed until Gilbert's
letter arrived. Gilbert's
letter probably ignited angry feelings Wright had been feeling,
and perhaps suppressing, for some time.
From the letters that followed, it becomes clear that
most of those angry feeling involved Gilbert's substitution of
his own original stories, the way Gilbert had manipulated the
situation so Wright believed he had "no choice" but to
go along with it, and the resulting movies that embarrassed him.
But the thing that really got Wright's blood boiling was
that Gilbert now "demanded" that Wright pay him for
doing these terrible things to him.
In a rather terse letter of December 31, 1935 Wright
gives some clues of what he is angry about.
"You admit that you owed me . . . $3,000. You claim
for your stories $3,000. You
claim an agent's commission of $3,000. It seems very clear that the $3000 you owe me cancels one of
the $3,000 items which you feel that I owe you.
Which item do you consider is paid by the cancellation of
your $3,000 indebtedness to me?"
"If you answer that in canceling your obligation to
me, I paid you for your story material, then in the other $3,000
you are charging your father a full rate of commission [ten
percent] that a Jew Agent would charge a total stranger-----and
that on a deal in which you yourself were interested to the
extent of a $6,000 job. To
me this is rather small business for a son of mine."
"If you say that in canceling your $3000 obligation
to me, I am paying your commission and that the other $3,000 is
for your story material (which as you know I had no idea of
purchasing outright, unsight and unseen) then, I say you have
taken your commission just the same.
And I repeat: that in the face of all that I have gladly
done for you these past years, your demand for a full commission
for this, the first service I ever asked of you, is too
contemptible to pass without my notice."
"Understand, I am not protesting the payment of
$3,000 to you----I am protesting the spirit which makes it
possible under the circumstances for you to demand it."
In other words, Gilbert was "demanding" that Wright pay him
$3,000 for representation at the bargaining table, and $3,000
for help in writing his stories, and in both areas Wright
believed Gilbert acted in his own interest and against his
father's interests.
Then Wright adds a mysterious statement: "You can
scarcely doubt that I expected to pay you for any help you might
give me with these original picture stories.
I did not expect that in addition you would be so quick
to demand a commission on this sale to Lesser in which, as I
have already said, you yourself were interested."
Did Wright intend to pay Gilbert $3,000 plus the $3,000
debt reduction, making $6000 total? Or did he intend to grant him only the debt cancellation as
payment for the stories? It
seems from this letter that he only intended to pay Gilbert
$3000, not $6000. But
it is just as clear from Wright's statements quoted earlier,
that he intended to pay Gilbert $6,000, including the debt
cancellation. This
may illustrate again that Wright did intend to pay $3000 plus
the debt forgiveness, but he hated that Gilbert thought his dad
owed it to him. I
believe the answer to this question can be found in the profound
change in the way Wright saw his son's dealings after he got the
letter of "demands." Before
that letter of December 17, Wright fully intended to cheerfully
cancel his son's $3,000 debt for all the wonderful service he
was providing, and he fully intended to pay him $3,000 for the
three original stories. But
once his eyes were opened, once he perceived that he was the
victim of a scheme to force him to sell his name to be attached
to three stories he didn't write, he began to think that even
one $3,000 payment was more than Gilbert deserved, and two
payments of $3,000 was outrageous.
As he read Gilbert's letter he probably moved from paying
$6,000 happily, to paying it grudgingly, and only after
expressing his anger. Still,
he could honestly say he always intended to pay both. It is no
wonder that Gilbert seemed completely baffled by his father's
reactions.
All of which begs us to ask one more question.
Was Wright correct in believing that Gilbert conspired
with Lesser to trick him into selling his name?
Or was Wright unjustified in this re-appraisal and
reinterpretation?
For both men the question seemed to hinge on whether
Wright was trapped or not.
Could he have substituted his own stories for the
"samples" that Gilbert named in the contract, or was
it "too late," as Wright repeatedly asserted?
From a legal, business, ethical or even publicity
standpoint, Wright was wrong in this phase of the dispute.
He was never trapped.
He could have submitted his stories at any time and it
would not have been fraud in anyone's eyes but his own.
I am not denying Gilbert was unwise and insensitive to
try to "bill" his dad for commissions and trips to his
dad's house. But
the root of the problem was Wright's misunderstanding of the
nature of a movie contract with Lesser.
Gilbert stated plainly and consistently that the three
titles and story outlines he inserted in the second part of the
contract were only place-holders that could be, and certainly
would be, replaced later, either with Wright's own stories or
someone else's. Gilbert said that:
1.
Lesser knew these were only "samples" of the
kind of story that would be provided.
2.
Lesser would certainly change the titles before they
became movies, so the titles in the contract didn't matter.
3.
Lesser would certainly toss out all the stories initially
submitted and replace them with other stories, or so modify the
final stories that they didn't resemble the stories submitted.
It is clear to me that Wright was thinking of movie
scripts as though they were saddles at an auction.
When a man offers three saddles for sale, the bidders
inspect them and place their bids, then the winning bidder takes
delivery of THOSE SAME three saddles, not some other saddles.
And a man does not buy a saddle to tear it up or throw it
away. He buys THOSE
saddles because he intends to use THOSE saddles. Wright said
Gilbert had offered his own three stories and misrepresented
them as his dad's, Lesser had inspected them and paid for them,
and now the only honorable choice was to deliver THOSE SAME
three stories and hope no one found out they were not what they
were represented to be.
Who was correct? Beyond
any shadow of a doubt, Gilbert was correct, as is demonstrated
by what actually happened to the three stories Gilbert
submitted. Lesser
did not use any of the three titles he bought, tossed out two of
the stories, and altered the third.
And none of this required the contract to be cancelled.
He replaced two stories and three titles, still paid
Wright for three stories, and still billed them as "From a
story by Harold Bell Wright."
If, instead of complaining about Gilbert's
"fraud," Wright had just spent some time with Gilbert
developing three story ideas, then let Gilbert finish the
writing and submit them to Lesser, Lesser would have done
exactly what Gilbert said he would do, and what Lesser had done
with all the other stories he had bought from Wright--he would
have read them, tossed most of them out, modified the rest
beyond recognition, and claimed the resulting movies were based
on Wright's stories.
What Lesser did with the first half of the contract also
demonstrates the accuracy of Gilbert's position.
In 1922 Lesser had bought the rights to all Wright's
works to date, but he only produced what he found useful.
When Lesser became the owner of Helen, Groceryman, and
Santa Claus, he ignored two of them, and replaced both the story
line and the title of the other.
The resulting movie was sort of like the proverbial
100-year-old axe that had had the handle replaced 10 times and
the head replaced twice. There was nothing of the original left.
Why did Wright refuse to recognize the nature of a
Hollywood contract? Why didn't he just work with Gilbert to
produce three original stories and submit them to Lesser? Time pressure probably played some part.
But that seems like a rather thin reason, and it is not
the reason Wright gave. Wright
already had three ideas and could have outlined them quickly to
Gilbert and let Gilbert run with them. As far as Wright was
concerned, it was "too late" weeks BEFORE the contract
was even signed! Again
Wright was apparently thinking according to the "Code of
the West." Gilbert
had given his word, had named the stories, and that was that.
As soon as the words left Gilbert's mouth it was too late
to make changes.
The whole Hollywood economy was contrary to Wright’s
values, and that may be what Wright was really angry about.
From his perspective, this deal was an insult to his
name, to his profession, and to his readers.
Earlier, the world had waited anxiously for every
inspired word from Wright's pen.
Now Gilbert tells him, in essence, “Your story, my
story, someone else's story; who cares? Lesser doesn't care and
neither does anyone else. Write
your own story if you must, but trust me, it won't make any
difference to anyone.”
Perhaps such a time comes in almost every man's life, but
Wright hated hearing it from his own son.
Wright respected his readers as noble creatures of God.
He felt a sacred responsibility to write stories that
championed godliness and gave readers the courage to continue in
their God-given work. The
Hollywood producers acted as though they believed their
customers were fools waiting to be separated from their money by
the lowest forms of entertainment.
And Gilbert was helping Lesser insult those people with
lies and bad stories.
Wright believed every man should perform every task as an
assignment from God, for the service of society and individuals.
The Hollywood professionals, including his own son,
seemed to have no thought but to make money, and didn't care at
all if the work they did was good or bad, as long as it produced
money. Again, your
story, my story, good story, bad story, who cares, just show me
the money.
Technically, Gilbert was right.
His stories were only samples, all parties to the deal
knew that, and Wright could have worked with Gilbert and
replaced them with his own stories.
The charges of fraud were uncalled for.
Supplying genuine Harold Bell Wright stories would not
have "exposed" Gilbert or his father to any
wrongdoing. Gilbert
had every reason to be bewildered by his father's inappropriate
actions and overwrought judgments.
But on a completely different level, a level where one
might peer into the deep canyons of the Catalina Mountains, hear
the whisper of the winds in the Coastal Redwoods, and look into
the souls of men, Wright was correct. Hollywood had gone to
hell, taking his son along for the joy ride.
In Gilbert's proposals Wright perceived the whole world
mocking his character, his name, his public, and his life's
work. Wright knew
that somehow the deal was wrong, though it wasn't fraud in the
way he claimed. No
wonder he could write to Norman in his cover letter, "I
want you to understand my complete loneliness; no one is left
who understands who I am."
And to Gilbert, "My disillusionment is
complete."
Apparently Wright never recovered from the insult of this
final Lesser deal, and he always believed Gilbert had betrayed
his trust and been ungrateful, and maybe he had.
But Wright continued to love his family and communicate
his optimism about the nobility of the ordinary person, and the
ordinary task, as long as he lived.
PART
FOUR:
AFTER THE STORM
In 1944 Wright assembled 14 letters to document his
claims against Gilbert. So
far in this study we have covered only 10, the letters written
during 1935. In the
later letters, both parties repeat their viewpoints, with
neither giving any evidence of understanding the other.
January 3, 1936, Gilbert tells Dad he wasn't making any
demands. He never
expected or asked for a commission of $3,000. He only said this
is what he could have charged if he were not forgiving it in
consideration of the earlier loan Wright had forgiven him.
Gilbert goes on to say, "I have signed with Lesser
to develop the original story ideas into screen stories and to
further develop them into screen plays."
He acknowledges that his dad has given him far more than
he can ever repay and that he is grateful for all of it.
Then he repeats that it is even now not too late to
substitute Wright’s own stories in place of his.
"If, as you suggest, you do not need or want my
help, you would like to get clear of my connection with the
original stories it might be done as follows:
Write three story plots of your own and give them to me.
I will then give you $500 each and collect the other $500
from Lesser for doing the screen plays."
It appears from this comment that Lesser, who has already
paid Wright $2500 for each story plot, plus $1000 to Gilbert for
securing each story, is now paying Gilbert an additional $500 to
develop each story plot into a screen story, and another $500 to
develop the screen play. Gilbert is suggesting that Wright can
write three screen stories--based on his own story ideas, rather
than the ones Gilbert submitted in the first place--and Wright
will get the double benefit of having his own stories produced,
plus receive an extra $500 for each.
Wright never responds, probably because, as he has stated
many times, this would expose both of them as swindlers.
And Gilbert suggested an alternative.
"Or, trade Lesser Ma Cinderella for the
originals." This
was not an altogether unrealistic suggestion because Lesser was
paying $7,500 for each of Wright's three published stories,
Lesser really wanted Ma Cinderella, and Wright would not have to
do any writing to prepare Ma Cinderella for sale.
On January 6, 1936 Wright replied "I certainly shall
not trade Ma Cinderella to Mr. Lesser for these three originals
nor for anything else unless I am forced to do so by further
developments. Then
he repeats his "too late" mantra.
"Inasmuch as you have signed with Lesser to develop
these original story ideas into screen stories; and inasmuch as
any attempt to make any change now that the contracts are all
signed and payment made, I hope that the matter will go on as
you planned it. . . ."
"To attempt any change of this arrangement at this
time would certainly be most embarrassing to me and I should
think to you also. In
other words you carried this deal through to the point where it
was too late for me to object and so I think that you should
carry it through to the end."
December 9, 1938. I
do not know why Wright included this letter in the collection.
In it he tells Gilbert that he, Gilbert, must be doing
something wrong because he has written 14 stories and not one of
them has sold. Wright suggests, not very subtly, that it is because Gilbert
is insincere and doesn't work hard enough.
But Dad reminds Gilbert he is only telling him this
because he loves him and wants to see him succeed.
July 17, 1937. Gilbert tells his dad that the three original stories have
been released as movies. Evidently
Wright has asked Gilbert what he is suppose to say when people
ask him anything about these stories and about where they might
find a print copy. Gilbert
opens the letter with this suggestion: "The only thing you
can say regarding the original stories is that they 'were
written exclusively for the screen.'"
Then he adds this informative note, "Lesser has
released three pictures which he would call adaptations of the
three original story ideas.
They are: SECRET VALLEY, IT HAPPENED OUT WEST, and THE
CALIFORNIAN. In these you are credited in the following manner: "From
a story by Harold Bell Wright."
Then by way of review, he notes, "I wrote Lesser
three stories to fulfill my part of the bargain.
One, The CALIFORNIAN, he used intire [sic]; the other two
he worked over with other writers until they had lost all
semblance of the stories I had written and he gave me no credit.
Lesser has of course made no attempt to use any part of
the original story ideas--any more than he ever attempted to use
the story in a published novel.
His contract gives him the right to make any changes he
desires."
Gilbert now turns his attention to the three published
stories, which Lesser is starting to work on now that the three
originals have been released as movies.
Gilbert says he has been assigned the task of writing
"an original western story" that Lesser will call an
adaptation of Helen of the Old House--one of the three titles
Lesser bought in the first half of the disputed contract.
He continues, "My contract with him calls for a
treatment of the three original story ideas and adaptations of
the three published stories.
If I did that literally it would be very much easier for
me than to dig up and write six original stories along the lines
suggested by him. But
if I did, for example, make an honest and excellent motion
picture story of Helen Of The Old House, he would not use it.
He would have to pay me, because I had fulfilled the
contract, but when the picture came out it would be a western
cowboy story written along the lines he wanted by some other
writers. I write
what he tells me because I need the screen credit and I also
want to keep in his good graces so that he will give me other
work. I hope this
explains the situation."
Gilbert was not talking in these last sentences about
Gilbert's three original stories, but for Wright these final
sentences pretty well "explained the situation."
Gilbert had betrayed his father's trust because he needed
the screen credit, and wanted to stay in Lesser's good graces in
order to get other work.. And,
as Wright would remind us, to collect the $6,000 fee from
Lesser.
Apparently Wright was still turning these thoughts over
in his mind during the final months of his life.
On February 10, 1944 he assembled the fourteen letters
and wrote a 12-page summary of events.
The summary was addressed to Norman.
"God knows," Wright says, "I have no wish
to review a matter which cost me many a sleepless night, and
heartaches. But I
cannot put the thing completely out of my mind and heart until
you know the exact truth of it." So in twelve pages
attached to the fourteen letters, Wright summarizes how he had
given far more to Gilbert than Gilbert can ever pay back, how
Gilbert substituted his own three stories for Wright's and how
when he found out about it, it was too late to make any
substitutions.
And what was the “exact truth” of it?
Did Wright ever really know the exact truth of it?
Did Gilbert or Norman?
And do we know the exact truth of it?
Probably not.
ADDENDUM:
IF WRIGHT REPLIED TO THE ABOVE
ANALYSIS
If
Wright could tell us this story the way he preferred, in a
novel, it might go something like the following.
Was Wright correct?
Or was he the victim of his own famous imagination?
"It was already dark when young Gilbert strode out
of Mr. Lesser's office, and down the gas-lit street to his room.
He quickly undressed, playfully flopped onto the bed,
turned out the light, and lay in the darkness with a smile on
his lips. But he
could not fall asleep. The
smile on the lower half of his face seemed strangely at odds
with the worry lines on the upper half.
There was a shadow on his bright plans and he would not
fall asleep until it was resolved.
This deal he had just put together was a masterpiece.
It would put a lot of money in his pocket.
He never doubted that.
He could hardly believe his good fortune, or his talent.
His dad, once the most popular author in the world, had
asked Gilbert to put the deal together with Lesser, and Gilbert
had put it together with amazing speed.
He reviewed the details in the dark. His father would pay him $3,000 for helping him write three
new stories for Mr. Lesser, and would probably also forgive
$3,000 Gilbert had owed his dad for several years.
"That is $6,000," he said out loud.
"Now Mr. Lesser is going to pay me $6,000 for
helping my father get all six stories ready.
That makes $12,000."
He was sitting up now as he added more things that
hadn't been discussed yet.
Lesser would almost certainly pay him $500 for developing
each of the six story ideas into a screen story, and another
$500 for developing each screen story into a screen play.
"Let's see," Gilbert mumbled, as he turned the
light back on and wrote it all down in a column, "That is
six-thousand more dollars, making a total of, lets see,
$18,000!"
He turned out the light and sank slowly onto the
mattress, suddenly thinking of the remaining problems, which
might kill the whole deal.
He had to convince his dad, who had declared he
absolutely would not sign any agreement that included both
finished and unfinished stories, to sign the agreement.
And then he had to get him to actually write the stories,
which his dad said he could not do in the near future.
That second problem will probably be the most difficult,
he thought. His dad
was sick in bed and might never finish the novel he had been
working on for several years, which was his first priority.
His mind skipped erratically back and forth between the
two problems and finally landed on the second one, getting him
to actually write three new stories.
He has already agreed to pay me to help him write the new
stories, maybe I should just take the lead.
At first he pictured himself begging his father, over and
over, for weeks, months, years.
"Dad, please. Can you have one more story idea
outlined within three weeks? Well, how about three months?
Three years?" Finally
Gilbert realized that the only solution would be to just start
writing and challenge his father to keep up.
Gilbert could create a story idea, outline it, and send
it to his dad to take the next step.
But he won't, thought Gilbert, and I will be right back
where I started. He
will be sick, or working on the novel.
What Gilbert needed was a way to start a story process
that could not be stopped even if his father was sick or too
busy. That is when
he remembered those three original stories he, Gilbert, had
written as samples.
He leaped out of bed and started pacing the floor.
What if he wrote those stories, his own stories, into the
early draft of the contract, and told his dad they would be
replaced as soon as his dad gave him three real Wright stories.
His dad would agree, thinking nothing would happen until
he submitted his own stories.
But his dad would certainly not submit the stories and
Gilbert's titles would still be there when Lesser mailed the
final contract to Wright to be signed.
What would happen then?
Gilbert didn't know the answer.
How would his dad react to that?
He was pretty sure his dad wouldn't like it, but what
would he do? Would
he phone Lesser and say, “Stop, there is no way I am signing
this contract with stories in it that I didn't write?”
Gilbert had no difficulty picturing his father doing
exactly that. It
was probably a stupid idea, and obviously wouldn't work, but
Gilbert's mind kept going back to it.
What would Lesser say when an angry Wright phoned?
Hmmm. What would Lesser say? Before
today's deal Lesser had already given up on ever getting any
more stories from Wright. And
Lesser knew perfectly well the stories Gilbert had shown him
today were written by Gilbert.
But a silly grin began to form at one side of Gilbert's
mouth as he thought of the crafty Mr. Lesser.
Somehow he heard Mr. Lesser, saying, "What do you
mean you didn't write these stories, Mr. Wright?
You told me your son was acting as your agent, and he
told me you wrote these story ideas! Are you telling me your son was trying to sell me
fakes?"
It was at that moment, long after Gilbert's brain should
have been sleeping, that a truly evil plan began to form.
For at that moment Gilbert realized that his father would
never phone Gilbert, because he would already know exactly what
Lesser would say. Gilbert
realized that when his dad saw the contract with his son's
stories in it, he would believe it was already too late to say
anything without revealing his son as guilty of fraud.
So his father would be angry, he would be hurt, he would
probably go to bed sicker than before, but he would not say
anything.
And now Gilbert began to play that story out to its end.
The first problem—getting his father to agree to the
deal—had already been solved when Gilbert wasn't even working
on it. His father
would have no choice but to sign the contract, and then he would
not hinder Gilbert in any way from proceeding with his own
stories. Other men
might look at the draft of the contract and conclude that after
it was signed they could substitute the real Wright stories and
not tell Lesser. But
Gilbert knew his dad would never entertain participating in a
fraud. No his dad
would just watch in sadness as Gilbert finished the stories,
attached Wright's name, and delivered them to Lesser.
And now the smile covered all of Gilbert's face.
He bounced back onto the bed, thinking of what he was
going to do with the $18,000 that was now as good as in the
bank. And why
should his father care about all this?
It had been decades since anyone cared about the old
man's books. Lesser would pay his dad $30,000 for the stories without
Wright having to lift a finger.
Sure his dad would be angry that his name was attached to
pictures he hadn't written and didn't like, and he would be
frustrated that he couldn't say anything, but he would get over
it.
He tried not to think of the sadness in his dad's eyes,
and he found it didn't bother him as much when he thought about
the $18,000. Gilbert
took that as a good sign. If
he was going to succeed in the movies, like Mr. Lesser, no, if
he was going to be greater than Mr. Lesser ever dreamed of
being, he was going to have to discard those old values that had
held his dad back from true success all these years.
Gilbert was beginning to think like Mr. Lesser, and feel
like Mr. Lesser, and frankly, it felt good.
Gilbert drifted off to sleep with vague images drifting
through his head, images of himself sitting in Mr. Lesser's
producer's chair, driving Mr. Lesser's car . . . .
When
he awoke the next morning, Gilbert felt great, especially for a
man who had gotten so little sleep.
He went straight to the table, sat down, dipped his pen,
and began to write, "Dear Dad, I have not written you about
the Lesser deal because there is very little to write."
Is this elaborate plot what Gilbert was thinking? I don't believe it was. But apparently this is what Wright suspected that Gilbert did.
Gilbert said he never entertained any such plot, and
never understood why his dad felt this way.
We will probably never know who was right, but we do know Wright's true relationship to the movies that came from the 1935 contract with Lesser.
Copyright 2001-2002. Gerry Chudleigh
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