The great American studio system began to unravel after its most successful year—1947. There was an ugly strike, Olivia de Havilland sued Warner Bros. to break her contract, Harry Warner and Louis B. Mayer were testifying before HUAC, the Supreme Court ruled that the studios must sell their theaters, and television arrived. “The cruelty and hubris of the men who had created the system” tore it down.
Twenty years later, the studios were on their last legs and turning to younger people to rescue them. The first of the arrivistes was a film grad from Hofstra, Francis Coppola. He had been working at Warners for five years when he met a recent USC grad, George Lucas. The two began a very close personal and professional friendship. A year later, a skinny kid from Phoenix talked himself into a job at Universal and quit Cal State without even emptying his locker. Steven Spielberg was going to work in television.
Coppola and Lucas left for San Francisco to set up Zoetrope Studio as an independent, hoping to free themselves from L.A. and the traditional studio culture. They ran up debt and produced only Lucas’ THX 1138, which Warner Bros. was threatening not to distribute. Francis’ failure to go to the mat for George eventually led to their break-up. In order to keep Zoetrope open, Francis accepted Paramount’s offer to direct The Godfather. The $75,000 fee might be enough to save the company.
The Godfather became the most successful film ever made. It outgrossed everything before it and made Pacino, Caan, Duvall, and Cazale household names. Francis’ six percent of the profits made him wealthy and the most famous director in the world. Spielberg was overwhelmed when he saw it and sank into despair over a contract that kept him in television. Lucas followed with American Graffiti, another career-defining blockbuster.
While his two elders prospered, Steven extracted himself from TV and successfully directed a feature film. He was then asked to make a movie about a shark from an as-yet unpublished novel, Jaws. The ever-efficient Spielberg filmed all of the on-land scenes on time. But when production moved to the waters off Martha’s Vineyard, everything went wrong. The boats were too small, the sea was uncooperative, the shark barely worked, and the equipment was not designed for salt water. The shoot ran far over schedule and budget. Spielberg feared being fired and had nightmares about that summer for years. Of course, 1975 saw the birth of the summer blockbuster—Jaws earned even more than The Godfather.
As 1975 came to a close, the three men were working on Star Wars, Apocalypse Now, and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. The filming of Apocalypse in the Philippines became one challenge after another. Three weeks in, Francis removed Keitel from the role of Willard and replaced him with Sheen. Before production could recover, a typhoon wiped out the sets. Then Sheen suffered a heart attack.
Lucas, meanwhile, was in London and Morocco filming Star Wars, uncertain what his team at Industrial Light and Magic could achieve, as the footage initially looked poor. He and his wife, the film’s editor, argued constantly throughout the process. When he screened an early cut at home, a friend suggested the opening crawl to introduce the story. Star Wars exceeded all expectations, outgrossing both The Godfather and Jaws. It was a game-changing phenomenon. Nineteen seventy-seven became a landmark year in Hollywood. Close Encounters opened at year’s end to critical acclaim, while Francis struggled to shape over a million feet of film into Apocalypse Now. Its release kept being delayed.
The film finally premiered in late 1979, winning the Palme d’Or at Cannes. Financially successful but critically mixed, it saved Francis from ruin, as he had personally financed it. The Empire Strikes Back was released in the spring of 1980. It too had a difficult production, but its success was enormous. George came very close to complete independence from Hollywood, as the studios were now only handling distribution.
The studios still had money and infrastructure, however, and they began to fight back. Barry Diller, Michael Eisner, and Jeffrey Katzenberg at Paramount partnered with Lucas as producer and Spielberg as director on Indiana Jones. The film was a major success and offered Paramount a franchise that could print money. The studio particularly loved Harrison Ford, the centerpiece of the series.
Both Coppola and Lucas faced severe financial and personal challenges at roughly the same time. After buying land in Santa Monica and attempting to build an experimental, non-Hollywood studio, Francis had to file for bankruptcy—both for Zoetrope and personally—when the effort failed. Meanwhile, after a decade spent on the Star Wars trilogy, George and Marcia divorced. Her $50 million settlement strained his finances considerably.
After the phenomenal success of E.T., Universal built Steven his own building on a quiet corner of the lot. They later asked him to direct Schindler’s List. Unsure whether he could handle such a difficult subject for his first truly “adult” film, he hesitated—but ultimately created a masterpiece.
Francis was eventually able to pay off his creditors after reuniting with George to make Tucker, and by agreeing to direct The Godfather Part III. Lucas, ever the visionary, embraced the digital future and eventually sold Lucasfilm and ILM to Disney for billions. The two men reconciled and returned to working on smaller projects. Steven’s success continued well into the new century.
Thus, our story comes to a conclusion. The impact of these three men on world culture is almost impossible to overstate. It is hard to think of anyone else whose influence has been so broad and lasting over the past century. Perhaps I am wrong. One thing I am certain of, however, is that the author does not measure up.
